History, Literature And Theology in the Book of Chronicles (Bibleworld)

HISTORY, LITERATURE AND THEOLOGY IN THE BOOK OF CHRONICLES BibleWorld Series Editor: Philip R. Davies, University of...

Author: Ehud Ben Zvi

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HISTORY, LITERATURE AND THEOLOGY IN THE

BOOK OF CHRONICLES

BibleWorld Series Editor: Philip R. Davies, University of Shefeld BibleWorld shares the fruits of modern (and postmodern) biblical scholarship not only among practitioners and students, but also with anyone interested in what academic study of the Bible means in the twenty-rst century. It explores our ever-increasing knowledge and understanding of the social world that produced the biblical texts, but also analyses aspects of the Bible’s role in the history of our civilization and the many perspectives – not just religious and theological, but also cultural, political and aesthetic – which drive modern biblical scholarship. Published: Sodomy: A History of a Christian Biblical Myth Michael Carden Yours Faithfully: Virtual Letters from the Bible Edited by: Philip R. Davies Israel’s History and the History of Israel Mario Liverani

The Apostle Paul and His Letters Edwin D. Freed The Origins of the ‘Second’ Temple: Persian Imperial Policy and the Rebuilding of Jerusalem Diana Edelman An Introduction to the Bible Revised edition John Rogerson The Morality of Paul’s Converts Edwin D. Freed Forthcoming Sectarianism in Early Judaism Edited by: David J. Chalcraft Linguistic Dating of Biblical Texts An Introduction to Approaches and Problems Ian Young and Robert Rezetko Symposia: Confrontations in Biblical Studies Roland Boer Vive Memor Mortis Qoheleth and the Wisdom of his Day Thomas Bolin

HISTORY, LITERATURE AND THEOLOGY IN THE

BOOK OF CHRONICLES

EHUD BEN ZVI

Published by UK: Equinox Publishing Ltd Unit 6, The Village, 101 Amies St., London, SW11 2JW US: DBBC, 28 Main Street, Oakville, CT 06779 www.equinoxpub.com First published 2006 © Ehud Ben Zvi 2006 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or any information storage or retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publishers. British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Ben Zvi, Ehud, 1951History, literature, and theology in the book of Chronicles / Ehud Ben Zvi. p. cm. -- (BibleWorld) Includes bibliographical references (p. ) and index. ISBN 1-84553-070-5 (hb) -- ISBN 1-84553-071-3 (pb) 1. Bible. O.T. Chronicles--Criticism, interpretation, etc. I. Title. II. Bible world (London, England) BS1345.52.B46 2005 222'.606--dc22 2005017566

ISBN-10 1 84553 070 5 (hardback) ISBN-10 1 84553 071 3 (paperback) ISBN-13 978 1 84553 070 9 (hardback) ISBN-13 978 1 84553 071 6 (paperback) Typeset by CA Typesetting, www.sheffieldtypesetting.com Printed and bound in Great Britain byLightning Source UK Ltd., Milton Keynes and Lightning Source Inc., La Vergne, TN

eISBN: 184553493X

To my grandchildren, may their lives, which just start, be a blessing

CONTENTS

Acknowledgments Abbreviations

ix x Part I INTRODUCTORY ESSAYS

Chapter 1 INTRODUCTION Chapter 2 THE BOOK OF CHRONICLES: ANOTHER LOOK

2

20

Part II CHRONICLES AND THE REREADING AND WRITING OF A DIDACTIC, SOCIALIZING HISTORY Chapter 3 OBSERVATIONS ON ANCIENT MODES OF READING OF CHRONICLES AND THEIR IMPLICATIONS, WITH AN ILLUSTRATION OF THEIR EXPLANATORY POWER FOR THE STUDY OF THE ACCOUNT OF AMAZIAH (2 CHRONICLES 25)

44

Chapter 4 SHIFTING THE GAZE: HISTORIOGRAPHIC CONSTRAINTS IN CHRONICLES AND THEIR IMPLICATIONS

78

Chapter 5 THE CHRONICLER AS A HISTORIAN: BUILDING TEXTS

100

Chapter 6 THE SECESSION OF THE NORTHERN KINGDOM IN CHRONICLES: ACCEPTED ‘FACTS’ AND NEW MEANINGS

117

viii

History, Literature and Theology in the Book of Chronicles

Chapter 7 ABOUT TIME: OBSERVATIONS ABOUT THE CONSTRUCTION OF TIME IN THE BOOK OF CHRONICLES

144

Part III CHRONICLES AND THEOLOGY AS COMMUNICATED AND RECREATED THROUGH THE REREADING OF A HISTORIOGRAPHICAL, LITERARY WRITING Chapter 8 A SENSE OF PROPORTION: AN ASPECT OF THE THEOLOGY OF THE CHRONICLER

160

Chapter 9 (Co-authored with A. Labahn) OBSERVATIONS ON WOMEN IN THE GENEALOGIES OF 1 CHRONICLES 1–9

174

Chapter 10 IDEOLOGICAL CONSTRUCTIONS OF NON-YEHUDITE/PERIPHERAL ISRAEL IN ACHAEMENID YEHUD: THE CASE OF THE BOOK OF CHRONICLES

195

Chapter 11 A GATEWAY TO THE CHRONICLER’S TEACHING: THE ACCOUNT OF THE REIGN OF AHAZ IN 2 CHRONICLES 28.1-27

210

Chapter 12 THE AUTHORITY OF 1–2 CHRONICLES IN THE LATE SECOND TEMPLE PERIOD

243

Part IV CHRONICLES AND LITERATURE: LITERARY CHARACTERIZATIONS THAT CONVEY THEOLOGICAL WORLDVIEWS AND SHAPE STORIES ABOUT THE PAST Chapter 13 WHEN A FOREIGN MONARCH SPEAKS

270

Bibliography Index of Biblical Works Cited Index of Authors and Individuals Cited

289 303 313

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Previous versions of these chapters were presented orally at different professional meetings. I would like to thank my colleagues in the Chronicles, Ezra–Nehemiah Section of the Society of Biblical Literature, the Canadian Society of Biblical Studies, the European Seminar of Historical Methodology, and the Pacific Northwest Society of Biblical Literature for their feedback and encouragement. I am indebted to my former students in my seminars on Chronicles for inspiring me, keeping me on my toes, asking questions and raising issue. In particular I am thankful to Ken Ristau and Tim Langille who helped me at different stages of the preparation of the volume or some of its individual chapters. The University of Alberta provided me with an HFASSR grant that helped me prepare this manuscript. The dedication of the staff at interlibrary loan at the University of Alberta this work would have been impossible. My departmental office has also been very helpful. T&T Clark International, and the journals Biblica, Studies in Religion, Horizons in Biblical Theology and The Scandinavian Journal for the Study of the Old Testament have kindly allowed me to republish articles and chapters in this volume. I have expressed my thanks to them at the beginning of each relevant contribution, but I would like to convey my thanks to them all here too. My thanks are also due to Janet Joyce for accepting this volume for publication, and how can I state my deep gratitude to Philip Davies, whose editorial hand and thoughtful advice guided me in the process of conceptualizing and preparing this manuscript and other works as well? Finally, most of all, I am indebted to my wife Perla Mónica, for her love and constant support sustain me.

ABBREVIATIONS

AB ABRL AOTC BA BAR BASOR BBR BEATAJ BETL BHS Bib BibInt BJS BLS BTB BWANT BZAW CBQ CEJL DBHE DJD EI ESHM FAT FOTL FRLANT FTS HALOT

HAT HDR HSM HSS

Anchor Bible Anchor Bible Reference Library Abingdon Old Testament Commentaries Biblical Archaeologist British Archaeological Reports Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research Bulletin for Biblical Research Beiträge zur Erforschung des Alten Testaments und des antiken Judentums Bibliotheca ephemeridum theologicarum lovaniensium Biblia hebraica stuttgartensia Biblica Biblical Interpretation: A Journal of Contemporary Approaches Brown Judaic Studies Bible and Literature Series Biblical Theology Bulletin Beiträge zur Wissenschaft vom Alten und Neuen Testament Beihefte zur ZAW Catholic Biblical Quarterly Commentaries on Early Jewish Literature L. Alonso Schökel, et al., Diccionario bíblico hebreo-español (Madrid: Trotta, 1988) Discoveries in the Judaean Desert Eretz-Israel European Seminar in Historical Methodology Forschungen zum Alten Testament The Forms of the Old Testament Literature Forschungen zur Religion und Literatur des Alten und Neuen Testaments Freiburger theologische Studien L. Koehler, W. Baumgartner and J.J. Stamm, The Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament (trans. and ed. under the supervision of M.E.J. Richardson; 4 vols; Leiden: Brill, 1994–1999) Handbuch zum Alten Testament Harvard Dissertations in Religion Harvard Semitic Monographs Harvard Semitic Studies

Abbreviations HTR JANESCU JBL JHS JSOT JSOTSup JSP JSTJ JTS LCL LHBOTS LTQ LUÅ NCBC NEAEHL

OTL OtSt PMAPA RB SBLDS SBLSP SBLSymS SBT SJOT SR SSN STR SVT TA TLOT

TPT TynB VT VTSup WBC WTJ WMANT ZAW

xi

Harvard Theological Review Journal of the Ancient Near Eastern Society of Columbia University Journal of Biblical Literature Journal of Hellenic Studies Journal for the Study of the Old Testament Journal for the Study of the Old Testament, Supplement Series Journal for the Study of the Pseudepigrapha Supplements to the Journal for the Study of Judaism Journal of Theological Studies Loeb Classical Library Library of Hebrew Bible/Old Testament Studies (former, JSOTSup) Lexington Theological Quarterly Lunds universitets årsskrift New Century Bible Commentary The New Encyclopedia of Archaeological Excavations in the Holy Land (ed. E. Stern; 4 vols; Jerusalem: The Israel Exploration Society & Carta, 1993) Old Testament Library Oudtestamentische Studiën Philological monographs of the American Philological Association Revue Biblique SBL Dissertation Series SBL Seminar Papers SBL Symposium Series Studies in Biblical Theology Scandinavian Journal of the Old Testament Studies in Religion/Sciences religieuses Studia Semitica Neerlandica Studies in Theology and Religion Studia in Veteris Testamenti Tel Aviv Theological Lexicon of the Old Testament (ed. E. Jenni, with assistance from C. Westermann; trans. M.E. Biddle; 3 vols; Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1997). Theologico-Political-Treatise Tyndale Bulletin Vetus Testamentum Vetus Testamentum, Supplements Word Biblical Commentary Westminster Theological Journal Wissenschaftliche Monographien zum Alten und Neuen Testament Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft

Part I INTRODUCTORY ESSAYS

Chapter 1 INTRODUCTION

This is a collection of twelve studies, ten of which were published in the last fifteen years in a variety of journals, Festschriften and other works. Chapters 3 and 10 are published here for the first time, and Chapter 9 was co-authored by Antje Labahan and me. These studies are published together, because their cumulative weight leads, among others, to a new understanding of the Book of Chronicles, its balanced and nuanced theology – for the present purposes, there is no difference between ‘theology’ and ‘ideology’, historiographical approach and of the way in which the book serves to reshape the social memory of its intended and primary rereaderships, in accordance with its own multiple viewpoints and the knowledge of the past held by its community. (Ancient readerships in ancient Israel were rereaderships; the latter term will be used occasionally to stress that the relevant books were not read, but mainly reread, time and again.) The book is organized around four parts: (a) Introductory Essays, (b) Chronicles and the Rereading and Writing of a Didactic, Socializing History, (c) Chronicles and Theology as Communicated and Recreated through the Rereading of a Historiographical, Literary Writing and (d) Chronicles and Literature: Literary Characterizations that Convey Theological Worldviews and Shape Stories about the Past. The first part includes this chapter as well as one in which several of the positions elaborated in this volume are brought forward and summarized. The second part explores what I would call the historiography of the implied author of the book of Chronicles as constructed by the intended and primary rereaderships of the book. In which ways is the past constructed in this didactic work? In which ways do the readers of the book socialize themselves by reading the book or reading it to others. To be sure, the point of the didactic exercise is not only to construct a past, but to construct a past for the purpose of communicating ‘proper’ theological positions. So the ‘historian’ is also a ‘theologian’. Conversely, the ‘theologian’ is

1. Introduction

3

a ‘historian’, since much of this theology is formulated and communicated through the construction of images of the past. As result, the boundaries between the material discussed in Part II and Part III are quite artificial and certainly porous. Essays in Part III focus more, however, on theology as communicated and recreated through the reading and rereading of Chronicles than on questions of historiographical writing. Similarly, Chronicles is a historical narrative. It is a history, but as any history it is also a literary piece, even if subject to particular genre requirements (e.g., to be coherent with the images or social memory/ies agreed upon or at least acceptable within the discourses of the communities within which and for which the relevant historical book was written). Thus the boundaries of the last section are certainly as arbitrary and porous as those of the first two. The main difference is that some often called literary-critical questions are more salient here than in the other sections. These studies represent my work on Chronicles through a considerable time span. Of course, my mind kept considering matters, and probing new ideas and directions, so there is a sense of progress (hopefully, not of regress) from the earlier to the later contributions. Thus, for instance, ideas first adumbrated in some earlier contributions are fully developed in later ones, and then, at an even later stage, their implications or the larger context in which they play a role become clear. Similarly, some positions taken as accepted knowledge in earlier essays are strongly questioned or rejected in later ones. This said, when taken as a whole, the reader of this volume will note that although each of these studies explores a particular topic or pericope their conclusions or implications on several crucial topics tend to converge time and again. Among these topics, one may mention the call for a thorough re-evaluation of the theology of the Book of Chronicles and the understanding of (hi)story that the book advances. This collection as a whole contributes also to the advancement of better understanding of the self-perception of the (hi)storian that it reflects, the world of knowledge of its readership, and accepted views about borders, among Israel and ‘the other’, or men and women, and their partial permeability. Thus, this collection provides an important window for the examination of the intellectual history and milieu of late Achaemenid Yehud and Jerusalem. It contributes also to a better understanding of the concept of the reception and mode of reading of (hi)storiographical works that existed within that milieu. For instance, Chapter 3 shows that the primary readerships of the book were asked to, and most likely did approach some passages in Chronicles (and other [hi]storiographical works) from perspectives other than collecting information so as to recreate a fully

4


mimetic, on the surface true, image of past events. Moreover, it claims that such passages were marked, so as to help the primary readerships that approached the text within, rather than against its grain to recognize them. I would like to emphasize from the outset that these studies repeatedly demonstrate that Chronicles communicates to its intended readership a theological worldview built around multiple, partial perspectives informing and balancing each other. Significantly, it is a worldview in which the limitations of even theologically ‘proper’ knowledge are emphasized. For instance, in Chronicles’ past similar deeds may and at times did lead to very different results. Thus, even if most of the past is presented to the readers as explainable, it also affirms that those who inhabited it could not predict the path of future events. Chronicles is therefore, a (hi)storiographical work that informs its readers that historical and theological knowledge does not enable the prediction of future events. Further, although Chronicles tries to expand the ‘explainable’ past, it poignantly construes some of the most crucial events in Israel’s social memory as unexplainable in human terms. Thus, Chronicles communicates to its readers that some of YHWH’s most influential decisions concerning Israel cannot be predicted or explained. It is against this background of human limitation in understanding causes and effects in a past (present and future) governed by YHWH and the uncertainty that it brings, that the emphasis on divinely ordained, prescriptive behaviour should be seen. The intellectual horizon of Chronicles was perhaps not so far from that of the interpretative frame of Job or Qohelet, and of these books as a whole. The essays have been kept in their original form, except for minor changes. These include very minor bibliographic updates, occasional additional comments in the notes, simple matters of style and the like, and a few notes on matters on which I did substantially change my mind (see Chapter 11). As a result, readers of this volume can still approach each one of these essays separately, as readers of these chapters in their original publication have been able to do. At the same time, the reader of this volume will easily recognize that these essays are interconnected. At times, a simple observation in the body of text or in a note in one is fully discussed in another; at times, the argument of one strongly builds on and develops further or reinforces positions advanced in another. Readers of this volume will be able to discern and follow these connections much more easily than readers of the individual articles, and above all will be able to assess the cumulative argument on the central matters mentioned before that this collection as a whole provides.

1. Introduction

5

Since I have refrained from changing these essays in any substantial way, I will mention here some of my thoughts as I underwent the process of reading and thinking about them again, from a 2005 viewpoint. The first essay (Chapter 2) originated as my presidential address at the 2002 Annual Meeting of the Canadian Society of Biblical Studies (CSBS). The precise contents were distributed in printed form, as all presidential addresses in the Society, in the yearly Bulletin the society distributes to its members the following year. It was later published in Studies in Religion/ Sciences Religeuses, which is the journal of the Canadian Corporation for Studies in Religion. It was my intention at the time to use the presidential address to bring the book of Chronicles to the attention of the members of the CSBS, and above all, to new ways of understanding Chronicles, to invite them to consider a new general viewpoint. The book of Chronicles has been discussed much more among members of the Society since. If I contributed to that process, even if in a minor way, I would be delighted. In its present form the essay serves well as an introductory chapter to the volume as a whole. It provides a reflection on, and above all a summary outline of some of the views I have adopted through time on the book of Chronicles and the study of the book of Chronicles (see, e.g., Chapters 6, 8 and 9). It also elaborates on some important themes that are not dealt with elsewhere in the volume (see especially the discussion about shaping memory and similarity and dissimilarity in the presentation of a new historiographical work). A prominent aspect of the talk, and of the essay now, is the call to recognize the balanced, theological approach that Chronicles communicated to its intended and primary rereaderships, once all its messages are taken into account. Chronicles is a work in which the partial messages of individual literary subunits (e.g., regnal accounts or sections thereof) interact, inform and place in proportion those of other subunits in the book and all together communicate the full range of the theological discourse in which both authorship and intended and primary readerships were involved. It follows, therefore, that one must carefully differentiate between the messages conveyed by particular accounts, or portions thereof, and those conveyed by the book as a whole. The former are only strands in the dense tapestry of the latter. To understand the theological positions that are brought forward in Chronicles as a whole, and which the intended and primary rereaderships were supposed to associate with the Chronicler as its implied author, the focus should be on the general tapestry. This issue is a recurrent theme throughout the volume.

6


Looking back at this essay, my main regret is that I did not include in the original address (or its later published version) any discussion of modes of reading and the related questions concerning genre that emerge from these considerations. Of course, a full discussion of these matters would have been well beyond the scope of the presentation/article, but some reference to them would have been in order. An analysis of these matters, however, stands at the center of Chapter 3 (published for the first time in this volume). One of its main conclusions is that the intended and primary readerships of the book were asked to, and most likely did approach some passages in Chronicles (and other [hi]storiographical works) from a perspective other than collecting information so as to recreate a fully mimetic, on the surface, true image of past events. In fact, the Chronicler (i.e., the implied author of the book as constructed by the mentioned readerships) does not claim to provide a transparent window into the past, but something akin to a painting of the past with a particular point to make and a didactic purpose, that is, as representations that bring forward a truth or sets of truths, but not necessarily a detailed, mimetic and fully historically reliable picture of events and circumstances of the past. To be sure, the primary readerships most likely believed that the communicator speaking to them through the text of Chronicles, that is, the Chronicler was relating to them the events as they truly happened. But ‘truly’ here does not point at ‘truth’ in the sense of ‘objective’ truth, or history as ‘it actually happened’. The literati who constituted these communities of readers neither expected nor demanded full and complete mimesis with past events. Nor did their historiographical works claim to provide it. In fact, they contain instances of lack of congruence at the mimetic level that served as literary or rhetorical devices to draw attention to meanings of the text at levels other than the mimetic, from the perspective of the primary readerships. The observations advanced in the chapter bear implications for the study of ancient Israelite historiography and for that of the possible genre differences and overlaps between ‘historical’ and ‘fictional’ narratives. A full study of these implications is, of course, beyond the scope of the chapter and involves more than Chronicles. These observations have also ‘practical’ applications for the study of particular accounts in Chronicles. The latter are illustrated with several examples from the account of Amaziah in 2 Chronicles 25. I hope readers of the chapter are drawn to further studies of both the ‘practical’ and general implications of the matters discussed here.

1. Introduction

7

Chapter 4 (i.e., ‘Shifting the Gaze: Historiographic Constraints in Chronicles and their Implications’) is in part a call for a corrective stance. The study of Chronicles has focused for the most part on how and why Chronicles deviates from its sources. My call is to focus as much on cases of ‘lack’ of deviation, which are at the very least as many in the book. Certainly, Chronicles could not deny, some facts agreed upon within the community/ies within and for which the book was composed. But why these facts, but not others? What characterizes them, and what does it tell us about the world of the intended and primary rereaderships of Chronicles and their construction of the implied author of Chronicles? This chapter maintains a very important distinction between ‘core facts’ that cannot be challenged and all other facts that existed within the relevant discourses and constructions of the past that existed among the Yehudite literati of the time of Chronicles (cf. my ‘Malleability and its Limits: Sennacherib’s Campaign against Judah as a Case Study’, and Chapter 6 in this volume). Rather than enumerating these core facts – though numerous examples are provided in the chapter – the main point of the essay is to examine how these distinctions between ‘core’ and ‘non-core’ contributes to an understanding of the worlds of knowledge within which Chronicles was composed and first read and reread. Again, I hope this chapter will contribute to the setting of an agenda that should, and I hope will be expanded also in terms of the literature being studied. For instance, one could ask which kinds of core facts are represented across biblical genres in Yehud and which are not, and why? As per methodology, the matter of core facts can be profitably approached within the general, heuristic frame of social memory/ies and its/their roles in society. Certainly, the study of social memories has much to contribute to that of the intellectual history of the Yehudite literati. It is worth mentioning also that such studies should take into account both the explicit and implicit, the narratively salient and the non-salient references to worlds of knowledge. For instance, I addressed in the chapter the supposed and often highlighted ‘lacks’ of references to central events in the social construction of Israel’s past in Chronicles. I concluded that the latter should not be construed as evidence for a denial or for an implied request to dismiss or devaluate the periods that are not mentioned, nor their main figures. In fact, these precise figures (e.g., Moses) may be found to hold a central position in the Chronicles’ theology. Chronicles’ choice not to describe these events or periods – nor even to refer to them in significant ways – is better explained in terms of the design for the book.

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Of course, since the article is focused on ‘shifting the gaze’ in research, it does not discuss at any substantial length references to some implicit instances of variation that affect substantially the construction of the past and suggest a balance between malleability of social memory and lack thereof. In other words, instances in which the past is not challenged directly but indirectly and only partially, that is, a new implicit position is set now to inform and be informed by the existing dominant aspect of the social memory. (For the expression of substantive and sophisticated theological positions by balancing different positions that is so pervasive in Chronicles – and other works of biblical literature – see passim in this volume). An obvious case is the implicit rejection in Chronicles of the claim advanced in Kings that following Hezekiah’s massive defeat of the Assyrians, the latter never returned or exerted any dominion of Judah (see 2 Chron. 33.14b). Future research on these matters is much needed. Chapter 5 was originally part of a volume devoted to the Chronicler as Historian. The volume itself is, as H.G.M. Williamson put it, a reflection of the liveliness of the debates on Chronicles.1 Of course, a key question in such debates is what is meant by ‘the Chronicler’. I, for one, mean the implied author of the book of Chronicles in its present form and as constructed by its intended and primary readerships but, of course, I am fully aware that other scholars hold other definitions. This is not a trivial matter, since a debate about attributes of a particular referent must begin by establishing the identity of such a referent or it risks being a conversation in which everyone talks past each other. This chapter examines reports in the texts of building construction outside of Jerusalem, in both the Judean countryside and in north Israel, during some periods and the lack of such reports in others. As a whole, these reports (or their absence) are shown to depend much more on literary and theological/ideological concerns than on the availability of written sources. In fact, the chapter suggests why various specific and detailed notes on royal building enterprises may have been invented, as we would put it today. Such a position stands in clear contrast to the often heard stance that Chronicles would have had no good reason to do so, which was also represented in the collection in which the chapter was originally published (again, Williamson, very perceptively, points out and summarizes in one sentence the sharp divergence of approaches present in the book).2 The essay also maintains that even when it is likely that there were some written sources, as in the case of the list of cities in 2 Chron. 11.5b10, the central heuristic question is why Chronicles associated such a list with Rehoboam, instead of with another king. The answer to that question

1. Introduction

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is again not to be found in the source itself, but in the literary and ideological world of the authorship and primary readerships of Chronicles. To be sure, this analysis removes the possibility of using these accounts – taken at face value – as positive proof of the building enterprises of Judahite kings, but it also leads to a better understanding of the world of knowledge of the society within which and for which Chronicles was composed and contributes to the study of ancient historiography and to that of the constructions of the past in ancient Yehud. What would I have written differently from the perspective of about nine years later? First, I would have probably developed the matter of the ideological correspondence of Judah (less Jerusalem) and northern Israel and placed it within a larger frame of references informing each other and which as a whole represent the worldviews of the Chronicler as construed by the primary and intended rereaders (cf. Chapter 10). Yet, perhaps, concerns about the scope of the paper and a desire to keep its sharp focus might have preempted me from carrying out such a discussion in the chapter. Secondly, although I have explicitly addressed this issue, I would have brought more to the forefront the question of how do we know what we claim to know (i.e., epistemological issues) and how this relates to the examples discussed here. For instance, I would have strongly emphasized that despite the fact that the chapter deals with reports about building activities, archaeology can neither prove nor disprove that Chronicles followed reliable historical sources, or that such sources were available to the authorship. Surely something, and in fact quite a bit, was built in Judah during Manasseh’s reign and certainly wells were dug during the reign of Uzziah, and during the reign of most Judahite kings. But findings of wells and of increased settlement in some areas during the time of Manasseh – to use these two examples – do not prove that such historical realities led to the inclusion of relevant references in Chronicles (e.g., 2 Chron. 33.14b or 2 Chron. 26.10) or that one must assume the existence of (accurate?) historical documents that mediated between that reality of the monarchic period and the world of knowledge of the authorship and rereadership of Chronicles. Conversely, cases of lack of such references (e.g., in relation to Josiah’s days) cannot be interpreted to mean that no wells were dug during his lengthy reign or that no documentation about them (but about those built by other kings) reached the hands of the authorship of Chronicles, directly or indirectly. Similarly, one cannot learn from the fact that (a) a town existed in the monarchic period and (b) Chronicles associated the said town with the deeds of some monarchic period king, that the authorship of Chronicles must have had reliable sources or traditions that described the

10


actions of the king in that town. If the town existed in the Chronicler’s time or was known at that time, then the authorship of the book could have creatively imagined an ideologically proper story, or deduced logically from that authorship’s viewpoint that such types of events most likely took place in such and such location, or referred to a place to increase the verisimilitude of the story, or any combination of the above. Thus, for instance, the reference to Babylon and its very existence in Manasseh’s days neither proves nor disproves the historicity of the story of this king’s captivity in 2 Chron. 33.10-11. Likewise, arguments that unduly constrain the Chronicler to a regard for the actual text of sources and limit the amount of what we may call ‘invention’, but from the perspective of the authorship (and probably of the intended primary readerships) were seen as logical deductions, hold no water. Arguments of the type, ‘the Chronicler could not have thought/imagined…’ are particularly difficult to sustain, even when archaeological evidence is brought to bear. But, perhaps, the appropriate place for a focused and well-developed discussion of these considerations would have been a separate article. Chapter 6 continues to some extent the thread of essays on social memory and core facts, but it points to the way in which sharing a set of ‘core facts’ does not necessarily mean a sharing of constructed meaning and theological and social significance. Kings and Chronicles both reflect a shared set of facts agreed upon about the secession of the northern kingdom, but the report of the secession conveys a very different meaning for the intended and primary readerships of Chronicles than for those of Kings. In Chronicles, as in most – if not all – historiographical works, the narrative context gives meaning to the facts, rather than vice versa. This chapter is, in a nutshell, an analysis of the Chronicler’s construction of the secession of the north, its distinctiveness and its implications for understanding the ideological worldviews and self-perceptions shaped and reflected in the account. Chronicles’ explanation of the secession shows YHWH as one who made crucial decisions concerning Israel that were essentially beyond the explanatory power of the Yehudite literati, among whom one is to locate the authorship and primary readership of Chronicles. Historical events and particularly crucial events such as the secession may defy human reason, including that of the literati and the implied authors of the works they penned and read (cf. Chapter 2 in this volume). Why would, for instance, YHWH decide that the glorious kingdom should be divided during the golden age of Israelite history? No answer is or can be given. Why would the Israelites, and particularly Rehoboam, behave in such an absolutely irrational, unexplainable way? No

1. Introduction

11

answer is or can be given. An important theological (and historiographical) corollary of these considerations is that since history is conceived by the implied authorship and the intended and primary readerships of the Chronicles as a record of YHWH’s (direct or indirect) deeds, since YHWH is not imagined as bound by the limits of human reason, then from their perspective, history (and the fate of Israel) must be at times fully unpredictable and certainly unexplainable. This is an important admission for a historian (cf. with the literati’s self-criticism in the book of Jonah, see Ben Zvi, Signs of Jonah)3 as well as an important statement about the mystery of the deity for a theologian. This chapter illuminates also the Chronicler’s strategy of placing seemingly competing claims informing and balancing one another. Within this system the intended and primary readers are asked to evaluate and reinterpret the particular messages conveyed by certain units in a way strongly informed by those of other accounts. As a result, they develop a more integrative and far more sophisticated understanding of the theological positions that are brought forward in Chronicles as a whole and those they were supposed to associate with the Chronicler. This is a recurrent and crucial theme in this volume as a whole. The chapter also demonstrates that contrary to common perceptions, the kingdoms are never ‘reunited’ from the Chronicler’s perspective, and that Judahite pious kings are constructed as kings who refrained from politically annexing the north, even if within the world of the book they certainly could have done so. They are implicitly constructed as being aware that such an action would have been against YHWH’s wishes. Although this understanding of YHWH’s will does not preclude at all a divinely-led future political re-unification of Israel (cf. some of the utopias in prophetic books), it places the latter fully in the hands of YHWH, whose actions and timing cannot be fully understood, and certainly not predicted by humans. This position of the Chronicler raises even further the ideological importance of YHWH’s decision to split the kingdom, for (a) it is never reversed in the entire (hi)story of monarchic Israel and (b), through projection, it is still decisive for the relation between Yehud and Samaria in the days of the authorship and intended and primary rereaderships of Chronicles. Further implications of this position and the related theological concept of ‘peripheral Israel’ stood outside the scope of this article, but are at the very heart of Chapter 10, which is profitably read alongside this chapter. Chapter 7 discusses constructions of time in Chronicles and the theological or ideological worldviews that such constructions imply. It addresses

12


questions of malleability, and lack thereof, concerning temporal matters, as well as narrative and ideological expansions and contractions of time within the world of the text. It discusses also the impact of these considerations on questions of historicity and historiography (cf. Chapter 3). Among the observations advanced in the chapter is that Chronicles shows a shift in the ideological organization of time from king-centeredness to a textual-centeredness, which emphasizes the coherence, consistency, and legitimacy of texts that were considered authoritative, and therefore in need of ‘explanation’ of their true meaning. The chapter also underscores that the shift involves a discourse of theological coherence between the particular in Israel and the cosmic/universal, and an emphasis on the land. Looking back on this contribution from the vantage point of the present, I would have added that here too Chronicles shows a system of claims balancing and placing one another in proportion. For the aforementioned shift following the fall of the monarchy is to some extent balanced by a sense of continuity of genealogically organized time from the monarchic to the postmonarchic time (see 1 Chronicles 3; this is consistent with the general tendency in Chronicles to construe continuity within images of upheaval and change, and vice versa; cf. and contrast with the approach in J.W. Wright’s, ‘The Fabula of the Book of Chronicles’).4 In fact, there are very few claims in Chronicles that are not placed in ‘proportion’ by claims advanced elsewhere in the book. Chapter 6 also discusses the implied apprehension that the arrow of time might be curved, that what seems to be fully mono-directional time might end up being circular time. In all these aspects Chronicles’ concerns and viewpoints are emblematic of the discourses of Achaemenid period Yehud. All these considerations have not only an impact on the so-called historicity of Chronicles, but much more importantly shed light on reading strategies for historiographical works that were in existence in ancient Israel. These issues are not addressed in the chapter, but are brought to the center within a much larger, and appropriate framework in Chapter 3. The 1995 article republished here with minor changes as Chapter 8 has been crucial in the developing of my approach to Chronicles. There I raised for the first time in a full length article the notion that the Chronicler (i.e., the implied author of the book of Chronicles as construed by its primary and intended readers) consistently set the lessons that the historical audience may have learned from some, or even many, of the individual accounts in the book in theological perspective by qualifying them with the message conveyed by other accounts. The Chronicler, thus,

1. Introduction

13

shaped within the text, and communicated to the audience, a sense of proportion that is integral to the thought and teachings conveyed by the book of Chronicles as a whole. This sense of proportion reflected and shaped an image of YHWH’s ways in a manner consistent with a quite unpredictable world. It allowed for a variety of potential interpretations of (socially accepted) historical events, and of the actual experiences of the audience for which this book was written. This sense of proportion or balance is a major key for a proper understanding of the theology of the Chronicler. Its presence throughout the book is demonstrated time and again through most of the chapters of this book that postdate the writing of this chapter. Somewhat later I recognized that the literary (and ideological) strategy of shaping and reflecting meaning by reading, rereading, evaluating, reevaluating, balancing, and reinterpreting the particular messages conveyed by a unit or section thereof in the book in a way that is deeply informed by the (at times, seemingly contradictory) messages of other units is not only well-attested but central to the intended and primary constructions of meaning in many other books within the authoritative repertoire of ancient Yehud, and particularly prophetic books (see my works on Micah, Jonah and Hosea). Looking back, this was certainly an expected feature of authoritative books meant to be read, reread, and meditated upon, which is not dependent on a particular genre, be it historiography or prophetic literature. A conclusion that cannot be overemphasized of these considerations is that, as mentioned above, studies in Chronicles must clearly and explicitly distinguish between the messages conveyed by a particular account, or portion thereof, and those conveyed by the book as a whole. The former are only strands in the dense tapestry of the latter. In other words, the messages of the book as a whole evolve as the intended and primary rereaders move beyond the level of individual accounts, or sections thereof, and as a result, they develop a more integrative and far more sophisticated understanding of the theological positions that are brought forward in Chronicles as a whole and those they were supposed to associate with the Chronicler. As mentioned above, and against a popular perception, these theological positions are characterized by a strong sense of proportion, or balance, by positions of ‘both – and’, rather than categorical positions. In Chapter 9, A. Labahn and I turn to the characterization of women in the genealogies. Studies of the worldviews and the related images of the past shaped and communicated by Chronicles cannot focus only on constructions of the past deeds of men, but should also include the study

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of ideological characterizations of women and their deeds, of discursive characterizations of women in society and the like. To be sure, there is no denying that Chronicles is a patriarchal book, in the sense that it is the product of a patriarchal society. But the same holds true for all the books of the Hebrew Bible, and almost any other ancient book. As such, this characterization by itself, although correct, is not particularly helpful for historical studies. More promising is to ask questions such as in which ways do the genealogies of Chronicles construct women, their social roles and the boundaries around them? This chapter shows, for instance, that the genealogies do not provide support for many negative characterizations of women in male discourses of the time and somewhat later periods. Women are not mentioned as whores, temptresses, impurity carriers, as leading men to the worship of other gods, nor are they constructed as essentially ‘passive’. These genealogies created a literary and ideological world in which women cannot be dismissed, and in which they can become very active. To be sure, women are characterized in ways that maintain and reinforce the traditional female roles within the (patriarchal) family and associate them with divine blessing (i.e., progeny). But the very same genealogies also provided their (male) readers with a substantial number of instances in which women took upon roles traditionally carried out by males. Moreover, these actions were viewed so favorable that they were associated with divine blessing. In sum, on the one hand, as expected, the genealogies reflected, carried and reinforced the main construction of family and family roles in a traditional ancient near eastern society, but on the other, they taught their intended and primary readers again and again that gender and ethnic boundaries could, were, and by inference can and should be transgressed by the Yehudite community, on occasion, with divine blessing, and resulting in divine blessing. The contrast with the positions advocated in Ezra-Nehemiah concerning ethnic boundaries is obvious and seems to indicate an unbridgeable chasm between the theologies of Ezra-Nehemiah and Chronicles on such a central ‘halachic’ as well as conceptual area. What remains to be done is a consistent re-evaluation of the constructions and characterizations of women in the rest of the book of Chronicles and of the ways in which they interrelate with and inform (balance?) those communicated in the genealogies. This endeavor demands, of course, at least a full monograph devoted to the topic and stands well beyond the limits of a chapter in a volume of collected essays. Of course, any good article is supposed to raise issues for further and more thorough study.

1. Introduction

15

Chapter 10 (published here for the first time) focuses on the ideological interrelation between Yehud/Jerusalem and Israel. It examines the ways in which Chronicles dealt with the very existence of Israel outside ‘the land’ during the Persian period and its attempts to ideologically Israelitize (or better Yehudize) them within their own Jerusalem-centered discourses. It is a study of the construction of ‘peripheral Israel’, and to some extent of the northern tribes/Samaria, which are viewed as standing in a liminal status. On the one hand, the latter are in ‘the land’ (as opposed to those in Babylonia or Egypt, for example), but on the other, they live outside Judah/ Yehud/Jerusalem and are peripheral to the main drama of Israel’s history, as constructed in the discourses of these literati. Readers may wish to read this chapter in relation to and as partially complementing Chapter 6, and vice versa. The following point needs to be stressed: given (a) the central ideological and social value of constructions of central and peripheral Israel in ancient Yehud and (b) the fact that Chronicles was composed, read and reread as part of a much larger corpus of authoritative texts, it seems to me that the road ahead concerns the ways in which the images of central and peripheral Israel in Chronicles relate to those in other authoritative books within the accepted repertoire of the literati of the time. My impression is that the images reflected and communicated in Chronicles are quite ubiquitous and represent a core, connective ideological feature (i.e., one that connects many other disperse features and keeps them together) in postmonarchic Yehud, akin and related to the concepts of ‘exile and return’ (see my ‘What is New in Yehud?’)5 and of ‘exilic Israel’ (see my ‘Inclusion in and Exclusion from’).6 But the case still has to be made. In addition, more research is needed to track the development of such concepts, and the role of connective ideological stances as necessary, systemic features for the general stability of a dynamic worldview/s in Yehud and particularly so since the latter were shaped by and around shaped a multiplicity of claims. Of course, these matters require a work solely devoted to them. Chapter 11 (published 1993) is an in-depth study of the account of Ahaz in Chronicles. Moreover, it shows the heuristic importance of studies of paradigmatic regnal accounts as it shades light in a number of important issues concerning the theology of the Chronicler. In addition, it contains an excursus on Chronicles’ position regarding the future role of the Davidic king. This chapter is also the end result of years of work on the account of Ahaz in the earlier stages of my career. In many ways it served as a living and enlivening spring out of which and through which I kept developing

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the ideas that were put forward in a more salient and clear way in Chapter 8 and which served as a fertile ground on which I developed my later studies in Chronicles. To be sure, as mentioned in the body of the chapter, at the time of writing the original version of this contribution I still thought that I was analyzing the actual author or authors. Not much later I became keenly aware that, in fact, I was dealing with the implied author of Chronicles all along. Similarly, several years later I came to the conclusion that in Chronicles there is no ‘re-united monarchy’, though to be sure, the Jerusalemite center is characterized as more able to properly socialize Northern Israel into Israel following the fall of the northern monarchy (see Chapters 6 and 10). The idea that Chronicles as a whole conveys its theology through sets of reports that if read separately would have communicated positions that appear on the surface to be at odds with each other appears in the article, but is not fully developed. It is worth stressing than in all these accounts the article is still very much representative of some present day critical discourses about Chronicles, even if I do not share them now. Reading it back now, from the perspective of more than a decade of work on Chronicles and other biblical literature, I still stand by the essence of the analyses advanced there. I notice, however, that the study of the message of Chronicles concerning wrong ways of learning from history/ experience (§2.2) could have been elaborated further and slightly rephrased. It is true that Chronicles conveys to its intended and primary readerships that inner logic of worldly Realpolitik leads to disaster, and by implication that so does any rational enterprise that does not take into account YHWH and human obligations towards YHWH. It is to be added, however, that the concept of a worldly, secular Realpolitik is far more meaningful in our discourses about policies and historical causation than in ancient ones. Within the basic worldviews that existed in the ancient Near East, there were humans but also there were divine beings. A historical narrative that deals solely with humans, and in which deities neither play nor can play any role whatsoever, explicitly or implicitly, would not have been accepted as reliable, and certainly not as mimetic of the ‘real world’. Similarly, any construction of strategic or tactical planning that dealt only with ‘worldly’ matters (e.g., numbers of soldiers, equipment, supplies, fortifications), but takes no consideration of the wishes of the divine beings would have been considered foolish. In fact, this a common trope in the characterization of the enemy in neo-Assyrian documents and in some biblical sources as utterly foolish, a despiser of the deities, and worthy of contempt by any ‘reasonable’ person.7 It is in this general rhetorical, historiographical, and certainly ideological context that the motif of the failure of the ‘worldly

1. Introduction

17

Realpolitik’ in the account of Ahaz can and perhaps also should be approached. In addition, Ahaz’s approach to the Assyrian king as a potential savior (instead of YHWH) plays on the image of mighty foreign kings as fulfilling the role of para-gods who take the place of a failed (and by theological necessity, always failed) alternative to YHWH as patrons and protectors of Israel (see my commentary on Hosea, pp. 143-44 and passim). (One may even compare somehow the offense with that of Asa who in illness turned only to the physicians.) To be sure, within the account, the character of Ahaz learns the lesson and decides to worship divine beings, but errs by choosing the gods of Damascus. The point here is not that the logic that Ahaz used was necessarily flawed, but that logic alone is unable to provide an answer to Ahaz in such conditions. Wisdom and rational thinking need what the books of Proverbs and Ben Sira would call ‘fear of YHWH’. The problem with Ahaz is that he lacked such a fear and without it he was unable to use wisely his rational abilities. It is in the theological discourses encapsulated in phrases such as ‘the fear of YHWH is the beginning of wisdom/profitable rational thinking’ that the account of Ahaz in Chronicles may be further illuminated. Chapter 12 is the oldest in the collection. Although it is a bit dated, to my knowledge there is still no comparable study of the reception of Chronicles in the late Second Temple period. I am not aware of any serious objections against its main conclusions, which in my opinion certainly stand today. As a whole this chapter points to matters of reception and illuminates ways in which various readerships may approach the same text in different ways, and even ascertain different levels of authority. The main premise that in many regards Chronicles was considered somewhat less authoritative than Kings is consistent with some observations advanced in Chapter 2. Readers of this volume who are interested in the ancient history of reception of Chronicles are encouraged to read Chapter 12 along with two relatively new contributions, namely I. Kalimi, ‘History of Interpretation’ (1998)8 and G.N. Knoppers and P.B. Harvey, Jr, ‘Things Omitted and Things Remaining’ (2002).9 Readers particularly interested in Josephus’ retelling of the (hi)story of ancient Israel and the ways in which he approached Chronicles are strongly advised to read Chapter 12 in a way informed by C.T. Begg, Josephus’ Account; L.H. Feldman, Studies, and of course, the recently published volumes 1-3 of the new translation and commentary of Josephus’ works edited by S. Mason. 10 Chapter 13 represents another instance of shifting the gaze. This time rather than looking at the reported royal speeches of Israelite kings (i.e.,

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those of the textually and ideologically inscribed inner group), it focuses on those of foreign kings. In the process, the chapter sheds light on the characterization of ‘the other’ and on the ideology that is reflected by, and communicated through these speeches to the intended and primary readerships of the book in relation to the potential of foreign nations. For instance, it is worth stressing that Solomon is characterized as a king who considers Huram, the king of Tyre, as a worthy partner for theological reflection about the reasonability of building a house for one who cannot be contained even by the ‘highest heavens’ and that Huram is portrayed as a foreigner who understands the unique and preeminent status of YHWH, the latter’s unique relation to Israel and whose style is reminiscent of several Psalms. Significantly, Huram is also careful to keep in mind potential ethnic concerns about the building of the temple. Foreign kings who speak in Chronicles are never presented as stereotypical figures and with the exception of Sennacherib (see ‘core facts’ agreed by the community) voice either godly messages or God’s messages. From these accounts, the intended and primary readerships can only learn that foreign monarchs and by implication their peoples have the potential to acknowledge and recognize the supreme deity of YHWH along with the elevated status of Israel/Judah/Jerusalem. They remain ‘the other’, as they fulfill the role of the ‘external evidence’ supporting the claims of the inner group, but are also partially Israelitized. They are construed as hybrid, most positive characters. That which Chronicles places in the past is not so divergent from the hope for the future about the nations that will come to acknowledge YHWH and the role of Zion/Jerusalem and Israel in prophetic texts. Again, despite all their differences, Chronicles and prophetic literature seems to reflect two sides of a largely shared set of basic worldviews (and cf. the characterization of the foreign kings who speak with the nonIsraelite speakers in Jonah). Of course, in Chronicles, the positive images of foreign kings are balanced by that of Sennacherib. ‘The other’ can think and behave godly but also very ungodly, just like the Israelites. Finally, the fact that the last two kings who speak godly in Chronicles are foreigners is also an important ideological feature. This chapter may be read alongside Chapter 10 which deals with peripheral Israel as construed from the center. All in all, Chapter 13 is a step in the study of ‘the other’ in Chronicles, and from a larger perspective in the discourses of ancient Israel/Yehud. An obvious next topic for research would be a full analysis of foreign kings in Chronicles, because the conclusions about the kings who speak inform and are informed by those who do not speak in the book. Looking back on this paper, I notice that it is a bit

1. Introduction

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unidirectional. The creation of a hybrid identity for foreign kings, for the outer group, involves to some extent at least a partial construction of hybridity within the inner group. After all, if the boundaries are somewhat porous, they are so in both directions. I should have emphasized that element. Endnotes 1. See H.G.M. Williamson’s ‘Review of M.P. Graham, K.G. Hoglund and S.L. McKenzie (eds.), The Chronicler as Historian (JSOTSup, 238; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997)’, in VT 48 (1998), pp. 276-77. 2. Williamson’s ‘Review’, p. 277. 3. E. Ben Zvi, Signs of Jonah: Reading and Rereading in Ancient Yehud (JSOTSup, 367; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2003). 4. John W. Wright, ‘The Fabula of the Book of Chronicles’, M.P. Graham and S.L. McKenzie (eds.), The Chronicler as Author: Studies in Text and Texture (JSOTSup 263, Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1999), pp. 136-55 (esp. 144-47). 5. E. Ben Zvi, ‘What is New in Yehud? Some Considerations’, in R. Albertz and B. Becking (eds.), Yahwism after the Exile: Perspectives on Israelite Religion in the Persian Era (STR, 5; Assen: Van Gorcum, 2003), pp. 32-48. 6. E. Ben Zvi, ‘Inclusion in and Exclusion from Israel as Conveyed by the Use of the Term “Israel” in Postmonarchic Biblical Texts’, in S.W. Holloway and L.K. Handy (eds.), The Pitcher Is Broken: Memorial Essays for Gosta W. Ahlström (JSOTSup, 190; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1995), pp. 95-149. 7. E. Ben Zvi, A Historical-Critical Study of The Book of Obadiah (BZAW, 242; Berlin/New York: W. de Gruyter, 1996), pp. 59-61, 68-71. 8. I. Kalimi, ‘History of Interpretation: The Book of Chronicles in Jewish Tradition. From Daniel to Spinoza’, RB 105 (1998), pp. 5-41. 9. G.N. Knoppers, and P.B. Harvey, Jr, ‘Things Omitted and Things Remaining: The Name of the Book of Chronicles in Anitquity’, JBL 121 (2002), pp. 227-43. 10. C.T. Begg, Flavius Josephus Judean Antiquities 5–7 (ed. S. Mason; Flavius Josephus Translation and Commentary, IV; Leiden: E.J. Brill, 2001); L.H. Feldman, Studies in Josephus’ Rewritten Bible (JSTJ, 58; Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1998) and Flavius Josephus Judean Antiquities 1–4 (ed. S. Mason; Flavius Josephus Translation and Commentary, III; Leiden: E.J. Brill, 2000).

Chapter 2 THE BOOK OF CHRONICLES: ANOTHER LOOK*

1. Introduction Today I would like to invite you to take another and more balanced look at the Book of Chronicles, to read and reread it, to see beyond its apparent and misleading simplicity, and to consider or reconsider its potential as an area of academic research or interest. I am doing so fully aware of the bad PR that has accompanied this book for centuries. Even today, despite the recent efforts and contributions of a relatively small group of scholars, including some members of our society (i.e., the CSBS), the book is considered more often than not as, at best, of peripheral importance from historical, literary or theological perspectives. The book is often described as being boring, inferior to other biblical narrative works – never mind to books such as Isaiah or Hosea. It is often characterized as being theologically or ideologically flat, and of lesser value as a historiographical work, not only in comparison with Greek historiography, but also, and mainly, in comparison with the deuteronomistic historiographical works. Many colleagues among those who do not work on Chronicles still identify with the words of Baruch Spinoza, more than three centuries ago, at the beginning of the critical study of the Bible, ‘I have always been astonished that they [the books of Chronicles] have been included in the Bible by men who shut out from the canon the books of Wisdom, Tobit, and the others styled apocryphal’ (TPT, II, 10.5).1 Today, I would like to invite you to reconsider the value of Chronicles, and as an ancient historian to point at the depth of the knowledge that it may provide us about ancient Israel. To be sure, I am not talking about the so-called historicity, or better, the degree of correlation between the accounts in Chronicles and the most likely reconstruction of the history of monarchic Israel/Judah. In fact, I am on record as one who is very skeptical about what one may learn from Chronicles about the historical circumstances in monarchic Judah.2 Rather, I would like to focus on the intellectual and social history of the Persian-period literati within which and for

2. The Book of Chronicles: Another Look

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which the book was composed, in its present form. I would like to focus on the interaction between the text of Chronicles and these communities of readers and rereaders, on meanings that these ancient literati detected in, or likely developed through, their reading and rereading of the book, either consciously or unconsciously. I would like to relate these meanings and ideological constructions to those conveyed by other texts also accepted within these communities of rereaders, as well as to their historical and social background, and ask questions about what can be learned about these readers from the historical fact that a book such as Chronicles was written for them, and that they accepted it within the repertoire of books to be read and reread. To illustrate the matter, I would focus on four different vignettes or ‘explorations’ that illustrate the approach I am suggesting. But before I do so, a word about method in the study of the book of Chronicles as a written document meant to be read and reread by an intended readership. Although the text included portions that were quoted from Samuel, Kings and other sources, the ancient readers were not asked to skip these parallel sections. The (hi)story narrated in Chronicles includes the paralleled material, and it is this (hi)story that the readers were supposed to learn.3 2. Between Human Actions and Divinely Controlled Effects: Implications One of the most detrimental positions for an understanding of the full range of the ideology conveyed by the book of Chronicles to its intended readership has been the almost universally-accepted claim that the book reflects and shapes a worldview that is strongly framed around, and actually governed by, a concept of individually-assessed coherence between actions and effects regulated by YHWH, which at times is called the Chronicler’s doctrine of retribution,4 or ‘the imperative of reward and punishment’.5 I have addressed these matters in other contexts,6 but given what is at stake, a brief summary of the evidence is in order. To begin with, there is no doubt whatsoever that the (hi)story of Israel as presented in Chronicles includes numerous instances that exemplify again and again the actual implementation of coherence between human actions and divine responses.7 But it is also true that the same (hi)story contains a very substantial number of instances that unequivocally show a lack of this coherence. Moreover, it bears particular note that at times Chronicles associates these particular instances of lack of coherence with crucial events or social roles in its construction of Israel’s (hi)story.

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It is obvious that in this (hi)story not all pious people enjoy blessing, as defined in the book (i.e., long life, children, prosperity and the like). Zechariah the son of Yehoiada was actually killed, and Hanani the seer was put in prison, both due to their actions. These actions, however, are clearly characterized in the book as those that pious people, and certainly true prophets, are required to take. Other people, not necessarily prophets, are described as experiencing oppression due to a bad king’s anger when confronted with pious speech (2 Chron. 16.10; 24.20-22; cf. 2 Chron. 18.1-27; 25.14-16). Bad kings may have to go through a foreign invasion, but the same holds true for good kings (Asa, Jehoshaphat, Hezekiah; see 2 Chron. 14.8-14; 16.1-7; 20.1-30; 32.1-21). Whether the invasion is to be understood as a ‘divine test’ when pious kings come under foreign attack, as is often claimed,8 but as ‘divine punishment’ when sinful kings are confronted with the same situation, as at times the text explicitly claims (2 Chron. 12.2), the fact remains that the same divinely-caused, but worldly results follow polar opposite human behaviors. Thus, the concept of a necessary coherence between the foreign invasions and sinful behavior is strongly and unequivocally subverted by the text, and not once, but four times in Chronicles (2 Chron. 14.8-14; 16.1-7; 20.1-30; 32.1-21). The concept that an individual may receive even incommensurable blessings without ever doing anything to deserve them is also advanced in Chronicles. ‘See, a son shall be born to you; he shall be a man of peace. I will give him peace from all his enemies on every side; for his name shall be Shlomoh and I will give shalom and quiet to Israel in his days. He shall build a house for my name. He shall be a son to me, and I will be a father to him’ (1 Chron. 22.9-10; cf. 1 Chron. 28.5-7; 29.1). A situation of peace and quiet is in itself a blessing within the world of Chronicles, and the same holds true for building activities in general. Since the building project referred to here is that of the temple, Solomon’s blessing is the highest possible in this category. The same can be said about the father-son relation between YHWH and Solomon that is described here. But what action could Solomon have done before he was even born to receive such a divine ‘reward’? Certainly, this is not a case in which the pious actions of an individual lead to corresponding effects in the divine economy. This instance involves both a divine, personal gift and a reward for the deeds of a father, which leads us to the question of ancestral merit. Chronicles also fails to explain the divine choice of Solomon’s father, David, in terms of blessings that befell him because of his deeds prior to the blessing.9 Ancestral merit (or demerit) contradicts a doctrine of an individually assessed coherence between actions and effects regulated by God. Indeed,


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Chronicles clearly contains numerous texts that seem to negate any notion of ancestral merit.10 But first, and to mention the obvious, the doctrine of ancestral merit is explicitly present in 2 Chron. 21.7.11 Second, many accounts in Chronicles obviously imply a hereditary concept, and the same holds true for the general worldview conveyed by the book. Within the ideology of the book, to serve as a king over YHWH’s kingdom, or as priest in the only temple for the only God in the entire world, or to be Israel, for that matter, were blessings, or at least potential blessings, that were not available to others. These potential blessing were inherited. Third, punishment of children for the sins of their fathers is also attested in, and communicated to the readership of Chronicles. For instance, pious and theologically reliable Hezekiah is described as saying, ‘for our fathers have been unfaithful and have done what was evil in the sight of the LORD our God… Therefore the wrath of the LORD came upon Judah and Jerusalem, and he has made them an object of horror, of astonishment, and of hissing, as you see with your own eyes. Our fathers have fallen by the sword and our sons and our daughters and our wives are in captivity for this’ (2 Chron. 29.6-9). The text clearly states, ‘our sons, our daughters and our wives’ suffer from the results of the sins of ‘our fathers’. If one were to argue that ‘children and wives’ are not to be considered individuals that stand on their own for these matters in this discourse (cf. the book of Job) and therefore that this example does not really count, then still Chronicles informs the readers that the land has to be desolate for seventy years, until the coming of the kingdom of Persia. Surely, there were many males who were born, became adults and eventually even fatherless during these seventy years. They could not have polluted the land in any way and still were unable to live in it. They were clearly forced to live in exile from their land for the sins of their ancestors (2 Chron. 36.20-21; cf. 1 Chron. 9.1). Needless to say, all these cases are absolutely inconsistent with a categorical principle of individually-assessed coherence between human deeds and divine responses. Additional examples come easily to mind. For instance, the readership of Chronicles is told of seventy thousand men who died due to David’s census, without the text even suggesting that they died because of their own sins (see 1 Chron. 21.14). One may note also that the readership can infer that kings strongly influenced the behavior of the people, for they tend to depart from their wrong ways as soon as a sinful king dies, to the point that they even deny the just-deceased king his burial honors (see 2 Chron. 28.27; cf. 2 Chron. 21.19-20).12 Further, a doctrine of coherence implies also some form of scale that relates two manifestations, human actions and divine retributions. But the

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readership of Chronicles is told that such a scale is not retrievable from Israel’s (hi)story. The readers of Chronicles are informed that, for instance, Ahaz, the worst possible king of Judah, although punished with defeat in war, is not killed, though members of his elite and many of his people are. Did Ahaz not forsake YHWH as much as those twenty thousand men who were killed in one day because ‘they had forsaken YHWH, the god of the fathers’ (see 2 Chron. 28.6; contrast with 2 Chron. 33.1-13)? It seems to me that, as in relation to many other matters, the book of Chronicles as a whole advances here a balanced viewpoint. Theological or ideological claims advanced in some accounts are informed and balanced by contrasting claims advanced elsewhere in the book.13 The result is a deeply connected web of meanings that reflects and shapes a far more sophisticated discourse than any set of accounts separately (a device ubiquitous in prophetic literature).14 If the reading of Chronicles is meant, among other things, to encourage an understanding of the present and of the divine economy by understanding the past of the readership, then it cannot be overstressed that Chronicles as a whole conveys a sense that not only human actions cannot be predicted, but also YHWH’s response to them cannot be predicted, and at times remains unexplainable.15 Doing good may lead to blessing, but also to death (cf. Job); oppression and death may come to the innocent, and although people are supposed to make their own choices and be responsible for them, they may also suffer because of the sins of their fathers, and conversely, their father’s position may lead to privilege and blessing. In addition, YHWH may cause even crucial events, such as the secession of the Northern Kingdom (see 2 Chron. 11.4)16 or the selection of David, simply because YHWH has so decided. The point I want to emphasize here is not so much the concept of YHWH’s freedom to act. There is nothing surprising about that. This freedom was usual in ideological constructions of the hegemonic side in asymmetric relations such as deity-human, great king-vassal king, kingsubject, master-servant (or slave). Instead, I would like to focus on the self-image of the authorship and readership of Chronicles, on their strong self-awareness of the limitations of their own knowledge. These limitations concern not only the literati’s ability to understand their past, or YHWH, but also involve an inability to predict the effects of human actions on the basis of the past, and this is particularly interesting in ancient historiographical work. Significantly, the more the literati read and carefully reread the (hi)story presented by Chronicles, the more aware they become that they may not be able to predict or even understand particular events.


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The more they read and reread the book, the more aware they become that YHWH’s described actions seem to be contingent rather than a result of any categorical imperatives that they can abstract from (hi)story, from any (hi)story.17 I would like to conclude this first exploration with two observations: (1) The book shapes and reflects the self-image of the literati and the limitations of the knowledge they may achieve through their reading and rereading of authoritative literature about Israel’s past, but by doing so, at the same time, the importance of careful reading and rereading of these same texts is reinforced, for after all, they learn as much because they carefully study these texts. (2) Reading and rereading Chronicles brought salience to unbridgeable limitations in their knowledge and to their lack of ability to predict particular events in the future. But at the same time, it brought to their attention numerous, blunt accounts that (a) carried a clear appeal to behave in a manner consistent with that which the community considered divinely mandated and, accordingly, proper and appropriate; and (b) exemplified an individually-assessed sense of correspondence between human actions and divinely ordained effects. Thus, on the one hand, Chronicles is a document pointing at, reflecting on, and contributing to the sophisticated self-understanding of Yehudite literati for whom it was written, including their limitations (cf. also, e.g., Jonah),18 but on the other, it was a great source of edifying texts that could be used to educate (or ideologically socialize) the community, to teach its members how to behave on the grounds of the events of their past. Significantly, many of the accounts in Chronicles, when taken separately, seem to be written to maximize persuasion, to ingrain a ‘godly’ behavior. The presence of these types of accounts in the book is not surprising given the likely social roles of literati in ancient Israel as ‘educators’ and brokers of authoritative teachings (cf. 2 Chron. 17.9; 2 Chron. 20.20).19 It also reflects an important element in their own intellectual, ideological discourse/s, for within them, even if the future or (hi)story is unpredictable, even if YHWH’s actions are not fully explainable and will never be, the need to seek YHWH and follow YHWH’s commandments remained. To some extent, one may compare this approach with that in Qoh. 12.12-14, and particularly with ‘the end of the matter; all has been heard. Fear God, and keep his commandments; for that is the whole duty of everyone’ (Qoh. 12.13; NRSV). This text, although belonging to a very different genre, reflects a similar theological attitude, whether knowingly or unknowingly. Moreover, it was written for a community of readers that was not too different from that of the primary readership of Chronicles. Both were written for

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what could only be the relatively few bearers of high literacy in ancient Jerusalem, in not too dissimilar societies (even if Qohelet, as it stands, was likely written in the Ptolemaic period and Chronicles, as it stands, likely in the late Persian period). 3. Between Similarity and Dissimilarity in the Presentation of a New Historiographical Work: Implications One of the most salient features of Chronicles from the perspective of the intended readership is that it constructs their (hi)story of their own monarchic past once again. There is nothing strange in developing new (hi)stories of the past, even if they must by necessity differ at points from those already existing in the world of knowledge and literature of their readership. In fact, such a development is to be expected, whether it takes the form of a new ‘(hi)story’, or of interpretations and rewritings of ‘old (hi)stories’. The book of Jubilees, for instance, provides a version of the past that differs from that in Genesis; Josephus retold the biblical (hi)stories.20 Within the boundaries set by what may be called the facts about the past that are agreed upon within a particular society or community, people can live, and have lived, with more than one (hi)story of their own past.21 Yet in each case, one of the basic questions for research can be framed in terms of new (hi)stories for new times, that is, new (hi)stories for new readerships. Josephus rewrote biblical narratives for a post 70 CE, Greekspeaking readership that probably included Greek-speaking Jews (see Ant. 1.5, 9; 12; 16.174; 20.262),22 and he did so with Roman patronship. Jubilees (or the Temple Scroll, for that matter) addressed a so-called sectarian readership that was supposed to attach much authority to the claims advanced by these books. Turning to the literature of the Jerusalemite literati of the Persian period, even without Chronicles, prophetic books and the deuteronomistic historical books construed images of the past that at times were in tension (e.g., Josiah in Zephaniah and in Kings).23 To be sure, these literati were certainly able to discern obvious genre differences and the corresponding constraints between prophetic books and (hi)storigraphical works such as Kings. But Samuel, Kings and Chronicles belong to the same literary and discursive genre and all were included in the ideologically authoritative repertoire of these communities of readers. Further, from their perspective, the book of Chronicles unequivocally presented itself as a kind of imitation of Samuel–Kings.24 It was certainly obvious to any reader of these books that Chronicles borrowed much of its text from


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the former. Although the text never explicitly acknowledges it, the ubiquitous repetition of texts carries a strong and unmistakable message. The imitation mentioned above points to a stylistic standard that was considered appropriate for the relevant rhetorical purpose within the social group to which the book is aimed. Thus, the book of Chronicles implies a readership not only aware of Samuel and particularly Kings, but one for whom acceptable (hi)stories of the monarchic past are to be styled in the pattern of these books. Of course, style always carries some substantive meaning, and imitation implies not only acknowledgment of sociocultural norms, but also its reinforcement. But even here Chronicles carried its balanced approach, in which obvious, explicit claims made somewhere in the book are set in perspective by other claims made elsewhere in the book. On the one hand, the book styled itself to the mentioned readers as closely related to Kings and Samuel as possible, through an unparalleled amount of direct and explicit textual borrowing, so as to advance its own claim for legitimacy among them. But on the other hand, the book clearly carried a very different voice from the one in Samuel and Kings. Just as the intended readers would have recognized the borrowing, they would have easily recognized the consistent linguistic flavor that set the book apart from the sources from which it borrows. Chronicles, Ezra and Nehemiah all share the so-called Late Biblical Hebrew diction; Kings and Samuel do not.25 It bears particular notice that even when the text in Chronicles is copied almost word for word from Kings, it often includes numerous minor linguistic, as well as stylistic and literary changes that serve to reaffirm the characterization of the voice of its narrator (and of the implied author) as different from that present in classical Hebrew texts,26 even if many of the latter, at least in their present form, were also composed in the Persian period. The result is that if the rhetorical voice of Kings carries a deuteronomistic, or Mosaic-like flavor, even if it does not follow the ideology of Deuteronomy too closely,27 that of Chronicles presents itself as a much later and as an un-classical voice; as a historiographical voice closer to the times, accepted literary practices and circumstances of the actual community of readers;28 but also as a voice that is well-versed in Samuel–Kings, as well as other authoritative books (e.g., Genesis, Deuteronomy, Leviticus, Jeremiah); as the voice of one able to study them, one in the light of the other, and to draw conclusions from this study. Such a characterization allows the text to shape and reflect a construction of the past that differs from that of Kings and Samuel, without directly taking on the traditional authority of these books, but rather the opposite: subtle co-opting it,

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working in parallel to it, and at the same time undermining the sole authority of their construction of the past among its readership. The balance between Chronicles’ unequivocal imitation of, and differentiation from, between the acceptance of, and the undermining of, the authority of the collection of books comprising the deuteronomistic (hi)story touches another point. Although Chronicles clearly resembled and evoked the memory of that (hi)story in its readers, it included an introduction and a conclusion very unlike those of the deuteronomistic (hi)storical collection. Introductions and conclusions are among the most important interpretative keys provided to a readership and as such deserve particular notice. Chronicles is structured as a book, not as a collection of books. It consists of a (hi)story of monarchic ‘Israel’ (or Judah) from David to the destruction of the temple, to which a lengthy introduction (chs. 1-9) and relatively short but most substantive conclusion (2 Chron. 36.20-23) are added.29 The style of the preface in Chronicles is unique in biblical literature.30 To be sure, genealogies do exist in other books, and those in Chronicles likely evoked the memory of those in Genesis, and could have suggested to the readers that Chronicles is actually comparable to the primary (hi)story (i.e., Genesis to 2 Kings) rather than to the deuteronomistic (hi)story. But the extent of these genealogies and the manner in which they alone carry the construction of a (hi)story of the world from Adam is unparalleled elsewhere in the repertoire of books of the intended and primary readership. Similarly, the opening of Chronicles may have been evocative of that of Exodus, but the differences are obvious. In sum, since no biblical book begins with anything like ‘Adam, Seth, Enosh, Kenan, Mahalel, Jared…’ the readers are informed from the outset not only that the book is relevant to the study of humanity (i.e., the ‘children of Adam’), but also that it is unique. Just as one aspect of the introduction likely suggested to them that Chronicles may be comparable to the primary (hi)story, or the history from Exodus on, another aspect balances such suggestions and clearly sets the book apart from these (hi)stories, and from Genesis and Exodus in particular (and cf. 1 Chron. 1.1 with Gen. 1.1 and Exod. 1.1). Of course, the introduction is not only involved in the negotiation of the uniqueness of the book and its possible relation to other works in the repertoire of the community, but also asks the readers to understand the (hi)story advanced in the main body of the book (1 Chronicles 10–2 Chronicles 36) as anchored in a (hi)story of the world, and of the social organization and composition of Israel. The obvious ideological meanings reflected in and conveyed by a ‘universal’ history that deals for the vast part


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with the (hi)story of Davidic Judah deserves a separate study that goes beyond the limits of this paper. As for the construction of society advanced in this introduction, we will address some aspects of it later. What about the conclusion of Chronicles? It structured the book and shaped its message in a manner conspicuously unlike that of Kings, or the entire deuteronomistic (hi)story. Following the introduction (1 Chronicles 1–9), the main body of Chronicles begins with a short preface to Davidic Judah/Israel, namely a report of the fall of Saul’s house because of its betrayal of YHWH. The main body of the book, and the book as whole, concludes with Cyrus, a foreign, non-Davidic king who orders the rebuilding of the temple in his first year (cf. Hezekiah’s re-opening of the temple in 2 Chron. 29.3). Thus the text moves from negatively portrayed preDavidic to positively portrayed post-Davidic times. The Saulide failed experiment led to the ascendance of David, and eventually to the climax of the book in David’s provisions for the building of the temple (1 Chronicles 22–29);31 monarchic Judah led to the eventual destruction of the temple, which, in turn, led to Cyrus. As the readers read the book, they move from the process that culminated in the building of the temple to that leading to its rebuilding.32 Another instance of the balanced approach of Chronicles becomes evident. On the one hand, the conclusion moves the (hi)story of Israel from the desolation caused by Judah’s (/Israel’s) rejection of YHWH at the time of Dadivic Zedekiah – which is structurally prefigured in Saul’s period – to a restoration under the rule of a foreign king who is never construed, nor can be construed, as the king of Judah (cf. Deut 17.15). But the message about blurring boundaries that the readers could have abstracted from this observation – and similar observations – is balanced with an ideological construction of the required time that separates desolation from reconstruction in explicitly local ideological terms, that is, around shabbatot (seven-year periods), more specifically ten shabbatot (seventy years) of desolation (see 2 Chron. 36.21-22).33 In addition, readers are asked to associate this construction of that time to both (a) the text in Lev. 26.3435, 43 (cf. 2 Chron. 26.21), as the language of the text clearly suggests, and (b) as the text explicitly states, the words of Jeremiah, as construed in the book of Jeremiah (see 2 Chron. 36.21-22; cf. Jer. 25.11-12; 29.10). Thus Chronicles concludes with an organization of the knowledge of the community of readers that develops a sense of harmony and coherence between two texts that were considered authoritative by the intended readership/s. Such an organization of the world of knowledge of the intended readership is supported by many other instances of harmonization elsewhere in the

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book (2 Chron. 35.13; Deut. 16.7; cf. Exod. 12.8-9).34 Just as the very existence of the book of Chronicles is positive proof of a discourse in which more than one authoritative (hi)story about the past co-existed, even if there were tensions among them, the very same Chronicles points to and reflects an ideological process aimed at achieving some degree of convergence among pre-existing authoritative texts. Again, the claims that the readers of Chronicles learn from some aspects of the book are informed and balanced by other claims they also find in Chronicles. The same process is at work in a related area. The ubiquitous presence of Late Biblical Hebrew language and of direct borrowings from other texts emphatically communicated to the readers that the book is derived from and later than these texts. But at the same time, due to the mentioned process of harmonization and interpretation, Chronicles presents itself as the carrier of the proper meaning of the other books. The literati must read Chronicles to understand what the authoritative books of the community actually mean, that is, the book communicates to its readers that it is as authoritative or even more authoritative than the other books, albeit in its own way.35 4. Reshaping of Memory and the Readership New (hi)stories develop with new times. They most often do not attempt to obliterate, but to reshape, their primary readership’s basic image of their own past, by shifting emphases and evaluations of characters, and/or by creating new points towards which the historical narrative moves. (Hi)stories also serve to reshape social memory, and such memory is more important than simple (hi)story in the life of the community. By social memory I refer here to ideological or discursive events that are considered paradigmatic by a particular social group, and as such provide it with a frame to understand other events.36 Social memory is quite omnipresent in the discourse of a group, and relates to events whose lasting consequences are conceived as defining for the character of the society that bears such a memory. There can be no doubt that the most important social memory in the discourse of post-monarchic Yehud was that associated with the cycle of exile, liberation from Egypt, the reception of divine instruction in the wilderness and coming back to the land. The ideological understanding of the Babylonian exile, the myth of the ‘empty land’, the concept of ‘the return’, the association of (ideologically) exiled Israel with the community in Yehud,37 the construction of the wilderness as a proper location for a


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necessary and positive interaction between YHWH and Israel are all among the matters patterned according to this social memory. Against this background it bears especial note that the ideological centrality of Jerusalem and of the temple, which was one of most salient and ubiquitous themes within the discourse of Persian Yehud, had no clear anchor in an Exodus, Horeb/Sinai, Conquest/Return memory. After all, the Pentateuch pointed to the Tabernacle, which, because of its lack of attachment to a particular geographical location, could not serve by itself as a foundational story for the choice of Jerusalem and for the claimed status of its temple as the only legitimate one in YHWH’s economy. The second most important memory is that of the patriarchal stories. Again, it could not have served this purpose. It is against this background that some aspects of Chronicles become clear. Chronicles associates the tabernacle with the Yehudite and ideologically Davidic temple.38 It also associates the location of the temple with the patriarchal stories by explicitly identifying the place of the temple with Mount Moriah. The patriarchal stories were potentially problematic since they do not single Jerusalem out of other cultic places in Canaan; in fact, it might have suggested that other places were more important. Chronicles solves the problem by associating the temple and Mount Moriah (2 Chron. 3.1; and cf. Gen. 22.2). But Chronicles does more, and in a more subtle way. Chronicles defamiliarizes the main (hi)storical narrative. Chronicles does not include accounts of the central ideological events associated with the main social memory, nor relates the patriarchal stories. Further, it includes no account of the conquest or the ‘Judges’. Instead it begins the main narrative with the death of Saul and concludes it with Cyrus. I would like to stress, Chronicles does not ask its readership in any possible way or manner to construe the history of Israel without, for instance, Moses, Exodus or Horeb, or without Joshua’s conquest.39 For the purpose of this essay it would suffice to state that Moses and other basic elements of this main social memory are mentioned numerous times in Chronicles.40 But Chronicles defamiliarizes the main (hi)storical narrative. Defamiliarization calls the attention of the readers to, and brings to the forefront, that which was selected as the core of this new narration of the known past. As mentioned above, the main body of Chronicles deals with the (hi)story of Israel from the building of the temple to the rebuilding of the temple. Moreover, the universal setting of the introduction serves to provide even more prominence to Israel and above all to the Jerusalemite temple, and its associated ideological constructs, such as the house of

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Judah, and above all David (cf. 1 Chron. 28.4-6; 2 Chron. 6.5-6). Thus, Chronicles’ selection is consistent with and conducive to the enlargement of the main social memory so as to include the establishment of the temple and the related selection of Jerusalem. Chronicles’ message on this matter is clearly supported by its association of David with Moses as a cult founders (e.g., 2 Chron. 8.14),41 and by its association of both of them to the establishment of the Jerusalemite temple and its rituals (cf. 2 Chron. 23.18). But this is not a one-time event, as Persian period Yehudites know all too well. The temple had to be rebuilt, and thus Chronicles concludes with the note leading to its rebuilding (as with David, Cyrus does not actually rebuild the temple, but set this event in motion). In other words, such as the Exodus from Egypt informed the construction of the ‘return’, and the Joshua story about the establishment of Persian Yehud, so also Chronicles communicates to its readership in various ways that David’s foundational activities were indeed foundational, that is, created a pattern against which the establishment, organization and ritual of the second temple – the temple of the intended and primary readership – was to be understood and evaluated (see 2 Chron. 6.5-7; and cf. 1 Kgs 8.16-18). Of course, as Chronicles does so, it legitimizes the second temple, that is, a temple that was established by, and was ultimately under the control of a Persian king, and which, at times and for some, was controversial. Chronicles reassured its intended readers that it was YHWH who caused the Persian king’s actions, that the time of the rebuilding was correct and consistent with the predictive claims of the authoritative works held by the community and above all, that the temple is basically a Davidic temple, because it follows the plans and regulations set by David. In other words, the readers are told that the actual royal founder of the temple, and of the worship that takes place in it, is not Cyrus, nor any Persian governor – kings build temples not governors – but David.42 If the community is ideologically organized around the divine instruction (or torah) and around the temple, Moses and David are to be the central figures of Israel’s memory. In this sense, Chronicles complements the memory creating function of the Pentateuch and does so on the basis of the books of Samuel and Kings,43 while at the same time keeping a balance between legitimizing similitude and ideological innovation. Further, the lionization of David and the characterization of his status as partially comparable to that of Moses44 raise an important issue. Just as Moses’ unique role as the intermediate for YHWH in the area of giving torah/divine teaching and the ideological construction of that divine teaching as one that will not be replaced by another within the life of the


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community demand the ideological claim that no new Moses will conceivably raise up, the central claim that David set the blueprint for the first temple and for any legitimate temple for all times makes the expectation of a new David impossible within that discourse.45 If the eternal contributions of Moses and David prohibited any expectation on the part of the community for a new Moses and a new David, still the implementation of the ‘inheritance’ of these characters demanded the presence of people in authority to set it in practice, within the real world. Although one may think of characters such as Ezra, High Priests, Judahite governors appointed by the Persian center and even a Persian king fulfilling that role in their own ways, it is worth stressing that the readers and rereaders of Chronicles were also included among those responsible for the maintenance of the proper temple, along with its rites, institutions and the like. It is they who were told through their readings and rereadings of Chronicles what a Davidic temple is supposed to be, and how it was supposed to be run, along with terrifying lessons from (hi)story about what happens when the proper temple and its rites are rejected (and, of course, on how people are supposed to behave in accordance to the divine instruction in general). A note: the preceding explanation for the defamiliarizing scope of narrated events in Chronicles leaves open the question of why Chronicles began with ‘Adam, Seth…’ and why it went beyond David’s conceptual establishment of the temple, or perhaps Solomon’s building of the actual temple. The answer to the first question is that the choice of temple and Jerusalem is thus set in a world (hi)story that narrows quickly to Israel, and to the main human character involved in the choice, just as the Exodus and Sinai events are set in the Pentateuch within a cosmic history that narrows quickly to Israel, to divine choice and to Moses. The answer to the second question is that the book is about proper Davidic temple-building, which from the perspective of a Second Temple community is about proper temple rebuilding. The difference in the endings of the borrowed text, (Kings in this case) and Chronicles, could not be larger and it directly relates to this point. As mentioned above, the main (hi)story of Chronicles moves from David’s temple to a Davidic temple about to be rebuilt according to the word of YHWH through Jeremiah and by a divine intervention mediated by Cyrus (2 Chron. 36.21-23). Such a (hi)story demands an account of the temple being destroyed too, which in turn serves to socialize the community of readers through their rereading of the ways that they should follow to avoid such a disaster happening again, while at the same time providing hope that even if they fail, and the temple is destroyed, after a time YHWH will return it again.46

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History, Literature and Theology in the Book of Chronicles 5. A Few Observations on the Social Aspects of the Construction of the Readers’ Past

I would like to conclude my invitation to take a new and more balanced look at this book with a brief consideration of some features of the particular constructions of the past in Chronicles that have not always received the attention they deserve. The readers of Chronicles are informed and asked to take into account in their construction of their own (hi)story that the ancestry of Judah, with whom most Yehudites probably identified, included people of explicitly foreign ethnic backgrounds. As Gary Knoppers has demonstrated, cases of intermarriage involve a Canaanite, Ishmaelite, Aramean, Egyptian (twice) and a Moabite. Further, the text includes among the Judahites ‘a number of individuals and clans…who appear non-Israelite or only loosely related to the Israelites in other biblical sources’.47 I would like to stress that the readers of Chronicles are informed that a Judahite father married his daughter to a man who was both an Egyptian and a slave, and the result was generations of Judahites (1 Chron. 2.34-35). They are informed of other instances in which the mother’s lineage, rather than the father’s, defined the identity of the child, even if the father was not a slave (1 Chron. 1.50; 2.16-17). These genealogies also told the readers of a few, but important men identified as sons of their mother, rather than of their father (1 Chron. 2.16-17; the name Zeruiah’s husband is not mentioned at all). They are told also of a woman who built three cities (1 Chron. 7.24), the only case in the Hebrew Bible (even if she had a brother, who incidentally does nothing). In addition, with respect to women, one may notice the relatively frequent references to them as sisters, and not only as mothers and wives. To be sure these issues deserve a full and separate study,48 but for the present purposes, it suffices to state the unavoidable conclusion that the reading and rereading of these genealogies reminded these literati, again and again, that common social (including gender and ethnic) boundaries have, at times, been transgressed in the past, and that the results of those transgressions might have been quite positive. Endnotes

* Published with minor changes as ‘The Book of Chronicles: Another Look’, SR 31 (2002), pp. 261-81, and a slightly modified version of the Presidential Address delivered at the 2002 Annual Meeting of the Canadian Society of Biblical Studies in Toronto. The oral tone of that address has been kept. I wish to express my gratitude to SR for allowing me to republish this essay in the present volume.


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1. It is worth stressing that Spinoza then continues, ‘I do not aim at disparaging their authority, but as they are universally received I will leave them as they are’ (TPT, II, 10.6) and then he moves into discussing Psalms. Many pre-critical readers and translators of scripture, of course, preceded Spinoza in his relatively low evaluation of the book, and many readers of Chronicles after Spinoza held similar evaluations. On the history of ancient interpretation of Chronicles, see I. Kalimi, ‘History of Interpretation: The Book of Chronicles in Jewish Tradition’, RB 105 (1998), pp. 5-41; and Chapter 12 in this volume. It is doubtful whether Chronicles’ reception would have been the same had the books of Samuel and Kings been lost. Given the authority usually associated with these books, Chronicles was considered more often than not as a secondary work, to be read and interpreted in their light. As a result, Chronicles often became a reservoir of ‘things that were left out’ of the other, more important books (see the title of the book in the LXX tradition: ‘Paralipomena’). To some extent, even the critical study of Chronicles has more often than not been conducted under the light, or perhaps, under the shade of Samuel and Kings. For instance, the latter often serve to create the main outline of histories of Israel, to which minor details were added on the basis of Chronicles. Perhaps more important, the book of Chronicles has often been read in a manner governed by external texts (e.g., Samuel–Kings) rather than as a literary unit by itself. So scholars have often divided the book into a parallel text and the non-parallel text, despite the fact that nowhere does the book of Chronicles suggest to its intended readership to approach it from such a perspective, that is, to read as if it was composed to be read as a column in A. Bendavid, Parallels in the Bible (Jerusalem: Carta, 1972) or the like. 2. For a recent volume that discusses the matter of the historicity – in contemporary terms – of the accounts in Chronicles from a variety of perspectives see M.P. Graham, K.G. Hoglund and S.L. McKenzie (eds.), The Chronicler as Historian (JSOTSup, 238; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1997). 3. See also n. 1. 4. See J. Wellhausen, Prolegomena to the History of Israel (Cleveland and New York: Meridian Books, 1961; German original, Berlin: Reimer, 1883), pp. 203-10; W. Eichrodt, Theology of the Old Testament (OTL; 2 vols; Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1967), II, pp. 307-308, 342; R.B. Dillard, ‘Reward and Punishment in Chronicles: The Theology of Immediate Retribution’, WTJ 46 (1984), pp. 164-72; idem, 2 Chronicles (WBC, 15; Waco, TX: Word Books, 1987), pp. 76-81; J. Goldingay, ‘The Chronicler as a Theologian’, BTB 5 (1975), pp. 99-126, esp. p. 122; D.F. Murray, ‘Retribution and Revival: Theological Theory, Religious Praxis, and the Future in Chronicles’, JSOT 88 (2000), pp. 77-99, esp. pp. 78-80. Some of these scholars, although strongly supporting this position have also stressed that ‘this doctrine is not worked out purely mechanically’, see, H.G.M. Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles (NCBC; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1982), pp. 31-33 and W. Rudolph, ‘Problems with the Books of Chronicles’, VT 4 (1954), pp. 401-409, esp. pp. 405-406. For a through and nuanced discussion but still strongly tilted towards this concept of coherence between human deeds and YHWH’s response to them, see S. Japhet, The Ideology of the Book of Chronicles and its Place in Biblical Thought (BEATAJ, 9; Frankfurt am Main: P. Lang, 2nd rev. edn, 1997), p. 150, esp. pp.

36


165-98, and cf. S. Japhet, I and II Chronicles (OTL; Louisville, KY; Westminster/John Knox Press, 1993), pp. 44-45. 5. For ‘the imperative of reward and punishment’, see Japhet, Ideology, p. 163. The term ‘retribution’ has negative connotations and unduly limits the scope of the Chronicler’s theological position (see, for instance, 2 Chron. 17.1-5; 27.6). For the terminology used here, see B.S. Childs, Introduction to the Old Testament as Scripture (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1979), pp. 651-53. See also Dillard, ‘Reward and Punishment’, p. 165 n. 2. The basic theological components of this principle, including retribution without much delay, appear in Deut. 7.9-10; cf. Ezekiel 18; 33.18-19. 6. See Chapters 6, 8 and 11 in this volume. 7. See 2 Chron. 12.1-6 (esp. 5b); 21.12-17; 24.23-24; 25.14-24; 28.3-5. For a thorough discussion of the principle and examples, see Japhet, Ideology, pp. 150-98. For a critique of commonly accepted positions about this principle, see, among others, B.E. Kelly, Retribution and Eschatology in Chronicles (JSOTSup, 211; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1996). Kelly maintains that ‘the theme of reward and punishment…has its meaning not within a general theory of divine action in history, but specifically as part of the covenantal relationship between Yahweh…and his people’ (Retribution and Eschatology, p. 106). He states that ‘the Chronicler is not concerned to show “the systematization of history” according to divine justice [contrast with Japhet, Ideology, pp. 156-76], nor with “rationalizing” the actions of the deity’ (Retribution and Eschatology, p. 107), nor addresses the issue of theodicy nor ‘the origin of evil and its final requiting’ (Retribution and Eschatology, p. 107). According to him, ‘the writer uses the theme of blessing and punishment to demonstrate a much more fundamental concern than retribution, namely, Yahweh’s mercy and restorative will towards his sinful people’ (Retribution and Eschatology, p. 108; emphasis in the original). Kelly maintains that a central message of the book is that the sins and the guilt of previous generations ‘need not be visited upon’ the Chronicler’s community and that in ‘this respect, the emphasis upon the “individual” character of retribution emerges as fundamentally positive’ (Retribution and Eschatology, p. 109-10). See also Kelly, ‘ “Retribution” Revisited: Covenant, Grace and Restoration’, in M.P. Graham, S.L. McKenzie and G.N. Knoppers (eds.), The Chronicler as Theologian: Essays in Honor of Ralph W. Klein (JSOTSup, 371; New York: T&T Clark, 2003), pp. 206-27. 8. See, for instance, Japhet, Ideology, pp. 191-98. On divine testing, see also, E. Ben Zvi, ‘When YHWH Tests People: General Considerations and Particular Observations Regarding the Books of Chronicles and Job’, to be published in a FS edited by Duncan Burns and John Rogerson. 9. See 1 Chron. 10.14; 11.1-3; 28.4-6; 2 Chron. 6.5-6. There are references to the word of YHWH by the hand of Samuel (1 Chron. 11.3) and to divine choice. The text also associates the choice of David (and of Judah) with that of Jerusalem (1 Chron. 28.46; 2 Chron. 6.5-6), but nowhere is the choice of David explained in terms of a reward for David’s actions prior to YHWH’s selection of David as king. To be sure, ‘all Israel’ mentions David’s role as army leader in Saul’s days and his being their ‘bone and flesh’ as they come to crown David as king, but these characterizations certainly do not explain YHWH’s choice of David. The reference to their ‘bone and flesh’ applies to any Israelite. Further, the readers of the book are neither asked nor were likely to assume that simply being a high military officer in the service of a king is the kind of action that


37

corresponds to the highest possible divine blessing. In fact, such a conclusion is almost unimaginable within that discourse. Moreover, one may mention that the text explicitly reminds the readers that David served Saul, who was explicitly and emphatically evaluated as a sinful king (1 Chron. 10.13-14) in the immediate textual vicinity of the reference to David as military leader of the people during the days of Saul. 10. See Japhet, Ideology, p. 162; and cf. Wellhausen, Prolegomena, p. 209. 11. This attestation has often been explained away as not belonging to the ‘Chronicler’, since it appears in a parallel text, or due to the ‘Chronicler’s’ (that is, the actual author of the book of Chronicles) sloppiness at the time of composing the book (that is, he simply failed to recognize that the text he copied implied ancestral merit). Similar claims have been made regarding other texts raising the same kind of issues. This approach is rejected here. First, as Kalimi has clearly shown, Chronicles is not a sloppy book, but one that carefully employs a number of sophisticated literary devices. Second, and more importantly, if one were to argue that the actual author of the book was frequently absent-minded, or inconsistent for no reason, still this observation would be irrelevant for the study of the book of Chronicles as an (hi)storiographical work, as opposed to the study of what was in the mind of the actual author of the book. For the former, the ideology of the implied author of the book, as a whole, is of relevance. The implied author of the book is constructed by the readership as they interact with the book as an integral whole, namely a work within which texts such as 2 Chron. 21.7 are as integral to the (hi)story as any other text in Chronicles. 12. See Chapter 8 in this volume. 13. See Chapter 8 in this volume. 14. See, for instance, E. Ben Zvi, Signs of Jonah: Reading and Rereading in Ancient Yehud (JSOTSup, 367; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2003). 15. See Chapter 6 in this volume 16. See Chapter 6 in this volume. 17. This raises questions concerning comparisons between the approach and intellectual milieu of Chronicles and that expressed in Thucydides (The Peloponnesian War 1.22). Although the latter approach is comparable to some extent to the one reflected in particular accounts in the book, it is set in ‘proportion’ and strongly qualified by the message of the Book of Chronicles as a whole. Cf. (and contrast) with the position I advanced earlier and which is represented in Chapter 11. 18. See Ben Zvi, Signs of Jonah. 19. See Y. Amit, ‘The Role of Prophecy and the Prophets in the Teaching of Chronicles’, reviewed and expanded in idem, ‘The Role of Prophecy and Prophets in the Chronicler’s World’, forthcoming in a collection of essays about Second Temple Prophecy edited by R.D. Haak and M. Floyd (eds.), Prophets, Prophecy and Prophetic Texts in Second Temple Judaism (LHBOTS, 427; London/New York: T&T Clark, 2006), pp. 80101; W.M. Schniedewind, ‘The Chronicler as an Interpreter of Scripture’, in M.P. Graham and S.L. McKenzie (eds.), The Chronicler as Author: Studies in Text and Texture (JSOTSup, 263; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1999), pp. 158-80. 20. G.N. Knoppers and S.L. McKenzie have recently discussed the appropriateness of a description of Chronicles as a ‘Rewritten Bible’. See G.N. Knoppers, 1 Chronicles 1–9 (AB, 12; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 2004), pp. 129-34; S.L. McKenzie, 1–2 Chronicles (Abingdon Old Testament Commentaries, Nashville: Abingdon Press,

38


2004), pp. 33-34. Cf. E. Ben Zvi, ‘In Conversation and Appreciation of the Recent Commentaries by S.L. McKenzie and G.N. Knoppers’ in M.D. Knowles (ed.), ‘New Studies in Chronicles: A Discussion of Two Recently-Published Commentaries’, Journal of Hebrew Scriptures 5.20 (2004-2005), pp. 21-45 (31-36), available electronically at http://www.jhsonline.org and Knopper’s response in the same, pp. 74-75. 21. See Chapters 4 and 6 in this volume and E. Ben Zvi, ‘Malleability and its Limits: Sennacherib’s Campaign against Judah as a Case Study’, in L.L. Grabbe (ed.), ‘Bird in a Cage’: The Invasion of Sennacherib in 701 BCE (JSOTSup, 363; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2003). 22. See the commentary by L.H. Feldman, in S. Mason (ed.), Flavius Josephus: Translation and Commentary. III. Judean Antiquities 1–4 (Leiden: E.J. Brill, 2000), pp. 3, 378 and bibliography cited there. 23. See my ‘Josiah and the Prophetic Books: Some Observations’, in L.L. Grabbe (ed.), Good Kings and Bad Kings (LHBOTS, 393; ESHM, 5; London: T&T Clark, 2005), pp. 47-64. 24. On imitation in the Hebrew Bible in general and in Chronicles in particular, see J. Van Seters, ‘Creative Imitation in the Hebrew Bible’, SR 29 (2000), pp. 395-409. (For a recent work that responds to and interacts with Van Seter’s position, see C. Mitchell, ‘Transformations in Meaning: Solomon’s Accession in Chronicles’, JHS 4 [2002] available at http://purl.org/jhs and http://www.JHSonline.org and the National Library of Canada.) It is worth mentioning that recently A.G. Auld has vigorously claimed that Chronicles does not depend on Samuel-Kings, but these works as well as Chronicles depend on a shared, third source. See A.G. Auld, Kings without Privilege: David and Moses in the Story of the Bible’s Kings (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1994); idem, ‘What Was the Main Source of the Books of Chronicles?’, in Graham and MacKenzie (eds.), Chronicler as Author, pp. 91-99; idem, ‘What If the Chronicler Did Use the Deuteronomistic History?’, in J.C. Exum (ed.), Virtual History and the Bible (Leiden: E.J. Brill, 2000), pp. 137-50. His position has not received much support and for a critical response see, e.g., S.L. McKenzie, ‘The Chronicler as Redactor’, in Graham and McKenzie (eds.), Chronicler as Author, pp. 70-90. This is not the place to evaluate Auld’s position, but even if he were correct in this regard – which in my opinion is unlikely – the basic argument advanced here will remain valid, since we would still be talking of a new (hi)story/ies. 25. In fact, within a community of readers in which the books of Ezra–Nehemiah and Chronicles were accepted as authoritative, this triad was likely to suggest a second collection of historical works, comparable to some degree to that of the deuteronomistic or primary history, but much later. I am convinced, however, that the book of Chronicles was not composed by the same person or group responsible for EzraNehemiah. (One may note, among others, the differences on matters of intermarriage, the absence of the concept of ‫‘ זרע הקדש‬holy seed’ [Ezra 9.2; cf. Neh. 9.1-2].) 26. See, for instance, S. Japhet, ‘Interchanges of Verbal Roots in Parallel Texts in Chronicles’, Lesh 31 (1967), pp. 65-179. For a study of stylistic and literary changes see esp. I. Kalimi, Book of Chronicles: Historical Writing and Literary Devices, now republished in a revised version as I. Kalimi, The Reshaping of Ancient Israelite History in Chronicles (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2005). On the phenomenon of Late Biblical


39

Hebrew one may add now Ian Young (ed.), Biblical Hebrew: Studies in Chronology and Typology (London/New York: T&T Clark, 2003). 27. See G.N. Knoppers, ‘Rethinking the Relationship between Deuteronomy and the Deuteronomistic History: The Case of Kings’, CBQ 63 (2001), pp. 393-415. 28. See K.G. Hoglund , ‘The Chronicler as a Historian: A Comparativist Perspective’, in Graham, Hoglund and McKenzie (eds.), Chronicler as Historian, pp. 19-29, esp. p. 29. 29. The claim that the conclusion is ‘a very late editorial gloss’ (e.g., S.J. de Vries, 1 and 2 Chronicles (FOTL, XI; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1989), pp. 13-14, 424) is problematic and in any case irrelevant to the discussion here, since it deals with the ancient readings of the book of Chronicles as we know it, not of any hypothetical forerunner of the book. On the importance of the ending of the book and about its role as an interpretative key for the understanding of Chronicles’ message, see Chapter 10 and cf. J.E. Dyck, The Theocratic Ideology of the Chronicler (Leiden, E.J. Brill, 1998), and I. Kalimi, An Ancient Israelite Historian: Studies in the Chronicler, his Time, Place and Writing (SSN, 46; Assen: Royal Van Gorcum, 2005), pp. 145-57. 30. The importance of genealogies in ancient Greek historiography is well known. Yet, contrary to Greek historiography, but consistent with typical Hebrew Bible style, the author of Chronicles remains anonymous. I wrote elsewhere on the phenomenon of self-effacing authors in Yehud, see E. Ben Zvi, ‘What is New in Yehud? Some Considerations’, in R. Albertz and B. Becking (eds.), Yahwism after the Exile: Perspectives on Israelite Religion in the Persian Era (STR, 5; Assen: Van Gorcum, 2003), pp. 3248. 31. Cf. D.J. Estes, ‘Metaphorical Sojourning in 1 Chronicles 29:15’, CBQ 53 (1991), pp. 45-49; J.M. Trotter, ‘Reading, Readers and Reading Readers Reading the Account of Saul’s Death in 1 Chronicles 10’, in Graham and McKenzie (eds.), Chronicler as Author, pp. 294-310, esp. pp. 299-310. 32. This is not to deny that within the intellectual milieu within which the book of Chronicles was composed and first read the rebuilt community and temple were not identified as the absolute fulfillment of the ideal period. See Chapter 10. 33. On the construction of time in Chronicles, see Chapter 7 in this volume. 34. M. Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation in Ancient Israel (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1988), passim, Schniedewind, ‘Chronicler as an Interpreter of Scripture’, pp. 169-71); I.L. Seeligmann, ‘The Beginnings of Midrash in the Books of Chronicles’, Tarbiz 49 (1979/80), pp. 14-32; and recently, E. Ben Zvi, ‘Revisiting “Boiling in Fire” in 2 Chr 35:13 and Related Passover Questions: Text, Exegetical Needs and Concerns, and General Implications’, in I. Kalimi and P.J. Haas (eds.), Biblical Interpretation in Judaism and Christianity (LHBOTS; London: T&T Clark, 2006). 35. It is worth stressing that each time Chronicles brings coherence to, or blends together, existing authoritative texts that stood in some tension, the book is providing its readership with a new text that actually follows none of the preceding texts. See, for instance, G.N. Knoppers, ‘Hierodules, Priests, or Janitors? The Levites in Chronicles and the History of the Israelite Priesthood’, JBL 118 (1999), pp. 49-72; cf. Seeligmann, ‘Beginnings of Midrash’. 36. See G.M. Spiegel, ‘Memory and History: Liturgical Time and Historical Time’, History and Theory 41 (2002), pp. 149-62.

40


37. E. Ben Zvi, ‘Inclusion in and Exclusion from Israel as Conveyed by the Use of the Term “Israel” in Postmonarchic Biblical Texts’, in S.W. Holloway and L.K. Handy (eds.), The Pitcher Is Broken: Memorial Essays for Gosta W. Ahlström (JSOTSup, 190; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1995), pp. 95-149; idem, ‘What Is New in Yehud?’. 38. See J. Van Seters, ‘The Chronicler’s Account of Solomon’s Temple Building: A Continuity Theme’, in Graham, Hoglund and McKenzie (eds.), Chronicler as Historian, pp. 283-300, esp. p. 293. 39. See Chapter 4 in this volume and Ben Zvi, ‘Malleability and its Limits’. 40. For Moses see 1 Chron. 6.34; 15.15; 21.29; 22.13; 23.15; 26.24; 2 Chron. 1.3; 5.10; 8.13; 23.18; 24.6, 9; 25.4; 30.16; 33.8; 34.14; 35.6, 12. He is explicitly associated with the Exodus and the Horeb covenant (2 Chron. 5.10), Israel’s stay in the wilderness (1 Chron. 21.29; 2 Chron. 24.9), the ‘Tent of Meeting’ (2 Chron. 1.3), the tabernacle (1 Chron. 21.29), Aaron and implicitly with Israel’s worship in the wilderness (1 Chron. 6.34), the cultic regulations for the three main festivals (2 Chron. 8.13) and with torah or the Book of Torah or the word of YHWH in his hand (2 Chron. 23.18; 25.4; 30.16; 33.8; 34.14; 35.6, 12). On these matters see Chapter 4. 41. Cf. S.J. de Vries, ‘Moses and David as Cult Founders in Chronicles’, JBL 107 (1988), pp. 619-39; J.W. Kleining, ‘The Divine Institution of the Lord’s Song in Chronicles’, JSOT 55 (1992), pp. 75-83; Schniedewind, ‘Chronicler as an Interpreter’, pp. 177-78. 42. Ben Zvi, ‘What is New in Yehud?’ 43. See de Vries, ‘Moses and David’. 44. See de Vries, ‘Moses and David’. 45. The same does not hold necessary true for the hope of a Davidic king – to be sharply differentiated from that of a ‘new David’. It is likely that if such a ‘Davidic king’ was hoped for, then he was conceptualized in terms closer to that of an Ezekielian ‫נשי‬ (chief, minor king) or an archon subject to a friendly (and divinely guided) Persian hegemony than an independent, strong monarch. See the excursus in Chapter 11 of this volume. Needless to say, this approach stands in contrast with the ‘royalist’ or ‘monarchist’ approach to Chronicles. See, for instance, D.N. Freedman, ‘The Chronicler’s Purpose’, CBQ 23 (1961), pp. 436-42; Schniedewind, ‘Chronicler as an Interpreter’, pp. 158-59. But one has to keep in mind that the work of the ‘Chronicler’ about which Freedman and others ‘royalists’ comment is substantially different from the book of Chronicles as we know it. The latter is the text being studied in this paper. 46. There are numerous other observations that follow under the rubric of ‘reshaping the memory of the intended readership’, and even more about that of ‘reshaping an accepted (hi)story’. For the present purposes it would suffice to briefly point to two examples I have discussed at length elsewhere. An emphasis on ‘memory’ and on ‘paradigms’ explains, for instance, a description of the House of Omri in Chronicles in which Omri is mentioned neither as king nor as founder of the dynasty, but which creates a story of a paradigmatic ‘House of Ahab’ that served as a quasi-mythical symbol of the potentially fatal lure evildoers may hold for the readers of the book, even if they are the pious, and of the potential dangers of associating with them (see E. Ben Zvi, ‘The House of Omri/Ahab in Chronicles’, paper distributed at the 2001 meeting of the European Seminar on Methodology in Israel’s History; to be published as


41

L.L. Grabbe (ed.), Ahab Agonistes: The Rise and Fall of the Omri Dynasty (LHBOTS; ESHM; London: T&T Clark, forthcoming). Re-writing (hi)story to be read and reread again and again raises the issue of the degree of malleability in the readership’s discourse/s, and serves to identify sets of core facts about the past that were agreed upon by the community of literati and were beyond any malleability. These facts, include a number of different issues, from Adam as the first human, to Moses’ role, to Solomon building the temple, to the lists of kings of Judah, to the length of the reign of each of these kings, to the existence of the northern and basic overview of the (hi)story of the Northern Kingdom (see Chapter 4 in this volume). These sets of agreed-upon fact provide an excellent resource for understanding the world of knowledge of the communities of literati among whom and for whom the book of Chronicles was written. All these issues require a separate discussion, to which I have contributed in other contexts. 47. G.N. Knoppers, ‘Intermarriage, Social Complexity and Ethnic Diversity in the Genealogy of Judah’, JBL 120 (2001), pp. 15-30 (23). 48. Antje Labahan and I have discussed aspects of the characterization of women in the genealogies of Chronicles elsewhere. See Chapter 9 in this volume.

Part II CHRONICLES AND THE REREADING AND WRITING OF A DIDACTIC, SOCIALIZING HISTORY

Chapter 3 OBSERVATIONS ON ANCIENT MODES OF READING OF CHRONICLES AND THEIR IMPLICATIONS, WITH AN ILLUSTRATION OF THEIR EXPLANATORY POWER FOR THE STUDY OF THE ACCOUNT OF AMAZIAH (2 CHRONICLES 25)

1. General Considerations How did ancient readers and rereaders of the book approach this historiographical book? In which ways did they read it? Which reading strategies played prominent roles in these literati’s reading of the book, and particularly in relation to which passages? These types of questions are crucial for an understanding of the message of the book and the significance of its narrative subunits as they were construed by these ancient literati. Moreover, explorations of these questions bear clear implications for the study of genre attributes and genre expectations of historiographical works that existed within the circles that accepted the book of Chronicles as an authoritative book. This contribution advances some observations on these matters and then illustrates how they inform the study of particular accounts or sections of accounts within the historical milieu in which and for which they were composed by dealing with particular elements of the report of Amaziah’s reign. It must be said from the outset that full, definitive, unequivocal answers to the opening questions cannot be achieved easily, if at all. This being said, preliminary considerations and observations that are limited to some narrow issues can be very helpful. For instance, heuristic models that assume that the ancient literati approached the book of Chronicles, through all their rereadings,1 with one single and ‘pure’ reading strategy are most likely to be misleading and unnecessarily restrictive. For instance, one can identify safely particular types of strategies of reading that played a prominent role in the way in which the book of Chronicles and its accounts were read, and why they were read, read to others, and studied. Given the social and socializing roles fulfilled by authoritative books in ancient Israel in general,2 and the clear didactic tone of Chronicles, one

3. Observations on Ancient Modes of Reading of Chronicles

45

can assume confidently that the ancient literati emphasized in their readings questions such as what is the point of the story? Why is it told? What does it say about us (i.e., the ancient community of readers) and about our behavior? In other words, these communities of readers approached the book and its subunits with point-driven strategies. This observation, however, should not be understood as implying that these readers could not or did not find pleasure in their reading, or that they thought that the implied author did not attempt to create good and memorable stories with strong characters and plot development, or that esthetically pleasant puns on words do not appear,3 or for that matter that they lacked antiquarian interests. There is no reason at all to assume that the readers of the book were asked to or did approach the book as a whole or its different subunits with one single-minded reading strategy. Further, since they reread the book numerous times and most likely read it to others unable to read by themselves under different settings and circumstances, sets of readings instead of a single reading were produced. One has to take into account also the large variety of literary genres evoked or embedded in the book, and the fact that not even narrative accounts had to be approached all the time from exactly the same reading strategy. To be sure, these considerations point at the vast complexity of issues associated with historical reconstructions of reading strategies among the literati who read the book of Chronicles in Persian Yehud.4 It is the contention of this contribution that notwithstanding these matters, some heuristically helpful observations regarding some aspects of these reading strategies can be advanced. First, since the book was successful, that is, it was accepted by its primary readerships, one may assume that there is at least some degree of overlap between the intended readership of the book and its primary readerships.5 Thus, one is to assume that basic claims explicitly advanced by the book, including those about its own authority, were by large accepted by at least some primary readership/s in Yehud.6 Second, ancient readerships did not read texts that they considered authoritative against the grain. In other words, readers of authoritative books imagined themselves as following the communicative wishes of the author as they thought them to be, and of course, those of other authoritative voices (such as YHWH) that were from their perspective faithfully embedded in the text. This being so, for instance, if or when they bracketed out or ignored some information, or chose to read some sections within reading approaches that did not take some data at face value, they had to think that the author of the book (and other authoritative voices embedded in the book) allowed

46


or even more likely asked them to do so. Of course, this was not necessarily or even likely a self-reflective, critically-aware process. From their perspective, they were simply reading the true meaning/s of the text.7 From the perspective of a historical analysis of the likely reading strategies of the primary readership (and intended readership) of the book of Chronicles, however, these considerations carry important implications. Third, there were sociological reasons for and mechanisms meant to maintain the existence of truthful, valid meanings that the intended and primary readerships associated with the authoritative book. Certainly, from the perspective of the intended readership, and any readership that resemble it, unequivocal statements in the text could not be simply tossed out as nonsensical within the world of the book, but had to be interpreted by ‘competent’ readers as pointing to some valid truth. As mentioned above, that truth was considered to be the real communicative intention of the author and other authoritative voices faithfully reported by the author. In fact, the book itself was considered authoritative because it was read as conveying these truths. Fourth, recent studies of Chronicles, and in particular those by Kalimi, have emphasized the carefully crafted wording of Chronicles.8 The intended and associated primary readerships were supposed to be aware of that feature, and accordingly, imagine the Chronicler as one who masterfully conveyed meanings by careful choices of words and expressions. This being the case, the latter could not be dismissed by these readerships as irrelevant as soon as they raise some possible tension. Instead, they should be interpreted. G. Rusch summarized his position concerning the concept of understanding in literature in general as follows: ‘Understanding means to meet the interactive/communicative expectations of a communicator’. 9 In the case of the ancient readers of Chronicles, this communicator was the implied author of the book (hereafter, ‘the Chronicler’) who spoke to them as it were from the book as they read and reread it, and whose voice is authoritative by itself and as such not only faithfully carries other authoritative voices, but is deeply interwoven with them. This being the case, for the purpose of advancing historical reconstructions of the likely ways in which the book of Chronicles was read by ancient readers in Yehud, it is necessary to focus on the communicative wishes of the Chronicler as construed by the intended and at least some primary readership. It is this construction of communicative wishes that served for them as a central, crucial key in their choice of reading strategies.10 After all, these strategies had to be conceived as faithful to the Chronicler’s intention. How did ancient readers construct the communicative intentions of the Chronicler? Most likely on the basis of both (a) markers in the text and


47

(b) their world of knowledge, including, among many others, their ideological perspectives, social memories, expectations about the literary genre of the book or some of its embedded units, and claims of other authoritative texts in their repertoire. The variety and number of textual markers in Chronicles, the wide range of issues and concepts covered under the term world of knowledge, and all the possible interactions between the textual markers and world of knowledge necessitates that the scope of this study be limited to manageable, yet heuristically promising, narrow matters. This contribution addresses a particular subset that is characterized by two features: First, it is well grounded on a significant variety of unequivocal textual markers that are present in a substantial number of texts and on unambiguous aspects of the literati’s world of knowledge. Second, his subset suggested to the intended readership of the book, and to any ancient primary readership that resembles it in a substantial way, that the Chronicler was not attempting to convey an image of a past that was correct in detailed fashion or had to be taken at face value. Instead it informed that as they read the relevant passages in the book, they should set aside or bracket out considerations based on narrowly understood historical referentiality. The first point contributes substantially to the strength of the argument advanced here. The second point raises important issues for the study of ancient Israelite historiography in general and Chronicles’ historiography in particular. It has to be stressed from the outset that the Chronicler always presents himself11 and was always construed by his intended readership and similar primary readerships as someone who was interested in, and who communicated a true image of the past. The question is, of course, in which sense was this image to be taken as true by the readership?12 The analysis that follows indicates that (a) in numerous cases this truthfulness did not involve full ‘factual accuracy’; (b) the text unequivocally made the readership aware that this was the case; and therefore, (c) competent readers of the book in antiquity were made fully aware that they should not read certain passages of this authoritative, historiographical book with an expectation of historical accuracy in a narrow sense; and finally (d) the incongruence of the text in these cases at one possible level of reading draws the attention of the readers of the book and instills, from their perspective, the meaning of that text at other levels with additional significance.13 It is to be stressed that (d) holds true whether the actual author willfully intended to create incongruence in the text from the very outset

48


or not. This being said, it is unreasonable to assume that authorships would always be unaware of the rhetorical effect of incongruence on the readerships of their works. 2. The Data and its Implications 2.1. Introduction The ancient readers were confronted throughout Chronicles with numerous passages that if approached with a reading strategy governed by assumptions based on purely historical or referential standpoints were either (a) mutually exclusive or (b) plainly absurd. Certainly, the Chronicler did not intend readers to throw away these passages as nonsensical, nor to consider them untruthful. Most significantly, contrary to the tendency in some later sources (e.g., Josephus, LXX Chronicles, Targum) in which some of these troublesome cases were solved, at least partially, nothing of the kind is noticeable in the text of Chronicles as is, which is, of course, the one being read by its intended readership, and on whose bases they were supposed to understand the true message of the Chronicler. To be sure, these cases may be explained away in some way or another, though at times it is not always easy or even plausible to do so. Moreover, examples discussed in the following sections, although illustrative, raise the matter of their cumulative weight, particularly given not only the number, salience and diversity of these instances. Rather than being as separate, peripheral or marginal, these instances when taken together provide interpretative keys that can be used elsewhere in the study of Chronicles within its primary historical setting. 2.2. The Case of the Person with Two Mothers The readers of the book were emphatically told in 2 Chron. 11.21-22 that the mother of Abijah was Maacah, the daughter of Absalom. In fact, according to the text, Abijah became the chosen successor of Rehoboam and future king, because of the latter’s love for Maacah.14 The same readers were informed in 2 Chron. 13.2 that Abijah’s mother was Micaiahu the daughter of Uriel of Gibeah. The intended and similar primary, ancient readerships of the book (hereafter, ‘primary readerships’, for the sake of simplicity) were asked to identify this woman by the cumulative evidence of her name and her patronym as different from Maacah, the daughter of Absalom.15 Are we supposed to believe that the primary readerships of Chronicles were asked to think, and actually accepted the proposition that Abijah had


49

two biological mothers? Or that he was born to a servant woman and adopted by her mother? None of these options is remotely likely. But it is as unlikely that the primary readerships interpreted the text they read as asking them to assume that the two were one. Had this been the case, then why would the Chronicler refer to the same woman by two different names and two different patronyms and would have seemingly purposefully deviated from his source in 2 Kgs 15.2 so as to create the two mothers’ case to begin with? To be sure, modern scholars have attempted to solve the perceived tension between the two texts. Such attempts are, however, irrelevant for studies of the most likely reading of the intended readership of the book as is. For instance, claims that the text in 2 Chron. 13.2 is in (historical) ‘error’ are beside the point in this context, 16 because the book does not claim to be in historical error, nor is it likely that the Chronicler was conceived by the primary readerships as an authoritative voice asking its readers to take its words, or some of them as historical errors.17 The same holds true for proposals based on textual emendations.18 No matter what the circumstances were that might have led to the present text of Chronicles, this text was read, and reread and studied within some groups of ancient literati. For these readers, and certainly the intended or ideal readership of this text the latter was meaningful. Moreover, it is on the basis of this text that these ancient readers were asked to, and did construe their image of the implied author or communicator. It is worth stressing that the presence of what for us would be a glaring contradiction between two reports in the text does not lead to any attempts within the text to alleviate matters.19 The issue is ignored completely in the text. The primary readerships had to conclude that the Chronicler did not see a problem here and that he wished them to approach the text in the same manner.20 In other words, they were supposed to bracket out the tension between the two texts and accordingly, develop a strategy of reading that did not include the question of ‘how can it be that a person has two mothers?’ Instead they were supposed to focus on the meaning conveyed by the association of Abijah and particularly Rehoboam to Absalom within the context of 2 Chronicles 11 on the one hand,21 and that of Abijah with the area of Benjamin within the context of 2 Chronicles 13.22 It bears notice that attempts to erase the differentiation clearly advanced by the text between these two women, as in Josephus23 and in modern research,24 are born out of the requirements of a very different mode of reading, one that assumes detailed referentiality and, therefore cannot allow the textual and literary ‘inconsistency’ to stay, because from that

50


viewpoint it would have led to an impossible inconsistency in the referent, namely, ‘the real world’. But this mode of reading was not at work in this section of Chronicles insofar as it concerns the primary readerships, nor seems to have influenced in any way the redactional history of the Hebrew version of Chronicles. 2.3. Two Cases of Removing and Not Removing the Bamot The primary readerships of the book are told unequivocally, not once but twice, that Asa removed the bamot (2 Chron. 14.2, 4), but they are also told that he did not (2 Chron. 15.17). Significantly, a text meant to convince its intended readers of its truth value does nothing to alleviate the supposed tension between all these statements.25 The case of Asa’s removal and non-removal of the bamot is not unique in Chronicles. Jehoshaphat, Asa’s pious son, is also characterized as someone who removed and did not remove the bamot, and also in this case there is no attempt to lessen the tension between the two statements (see 2 Chron. 17.6; 20.33). It is very unlikely that the primary readerships learned from these types of statements that the Chronicler was confused or nonsensical, or that they should ignore them altogether.26 It is far more likely that they saw here an indication that in these instances they were not supposed to approach the text with questions such as how can a person both remove and not remove the bamot.27 In other words, in these cases, questions of detailed historicity were again to be bracketed out, so as to allow the text to convey better its true meanings to its primary readerships. These meanings may have included, for instance, that these readerships were supposed to learn that (a) true cultic reforms should not be imagined as excluding the removal of bamot,28 (b) there was strong undercurrent of popular, improper, cultic behavior during the monarchic period, even under kings whose deeds were pious (see 2 Chron. 15.7; 20.33; 33.17), and (c) the reforms of Hezekiah29 and Josiah were in some ways incomparable with other reforms.30 2.4. The Case of Cultic Reforms at Seemingly Unlikely Times According to 2 Chron. 14.2-4, Asa purged the kingdom of foreign altars, pillars, asherim, bamot, and hammanim. Of course, the world of knowledge of the primary readerships includes that none of these items can be removed if they did not exist to begin with. But the Chronicler makes it impossible for them to assume that the five, and certainly foreign altars existed in Judah and were condoned during Abijah’s reign,31 or that Asa


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installed them early in his reign, just before he removed them. This is so because Abijah and Asa up to his thirty-fifth year are characterized in the book as pious and as recipients of divine blessing. To be sure, had the primary readerships approached the account of Asa with questions such as why did Asa launch such a vast purge following the reign of pious Abijah when there was no need for such measure, or how can it be that this king removed and did not remove the bamot, they would have understood the account to be senseless, just as Welhausen and others who followed this mode of reading have actually done.32 However, it is very unlikely that such was the strategy of reading taken by these ancient readerships or that they thought that the Chronicler was just sputtering nonsense, or got confused It is far more likely that they thought that the Chronicler asked them to approach the text from another perspective, namely one that bracketed out questions of narrow historical referentiality and focused on ideological and typological messages. Among the latter, one may mention that good kings of the past have been imagined not only as builders of cities, fortifications, armies, or the like, but also and mainly as reformers or, better, restorers of cultic purity in their realm. If the intention of the Chronicler in the relevant passages concerning Asa is understood in this way, then several other issues become clear. For instance, the Chronicler built up the characterization of Asa as a pious reformer that existed within the discourses and world of knowledge of the primary readerships,33 and appropriated, reshaped, elaborated and above all augmented that image in the social memory, up to the point of turning the king into a kind of proto, but failed Hezekiah.34 Rhetorical and ideological needs related to the contrast between the nascent and illegitimate kingdom of Israel, which has been recently created in the narrative world of Chronicles, and the legitimate, Davidic kingdom of Judah played a role in the tendency in Chronicles to shape a comparatively positive image of Judah and its first kings, while at the same time abiding by the constraints of the world of knowledge of the readership and the historical ideology of Chronicles.35 In sum, the text was not meaningless but abundant in meaning. Simply, it was not supposed to be read within a narrow referential mode. The readers were alerted that such was the case by clear textual, namely the text states that the bamot were removed and that they were not, and contextual markers, the relation between the reigns of Abijah and the beginning of the reign of Asa. Significantly, these contextual markers do not have to encompass two different regnal accounts. The report about the reign of Asa informed its

52


primary readerships that Asa led two cultic purges/reforms. The first is associated with the beginning of his reign and led to a period of blessing and peace (2 Chron. 14.1-6), which was, however, interrupted by the invasion of Zerah the Cushite. Following Asa’s success in the war and the words of Azariah, the son of Oded, the king initiated a second cultic purge, which again led to a period of peace (see 2 Chron. 15.8-17), which in turn led once more to a foreign invasion.36 Nothing in the text suggests that the primary readerships were supposed to approach the book with the question of how could it be that the pious and blessed king of 2 Chronicles 14 left the ‫ שקוצים‬that later on were removed by the same king (2 Chron. 15.8). Certainly, they were not asked to associate the existence of ‫שקוצים‬ with a pious king such as Asa of ch. 14, or to imagine obviously positive cultic reforms that spared their existence. From the perspective of the primary readerships, competent readers of the book were not supposed to raise these questions, which by necessity lead to absurd conclusions. After all, the Chronicler could not have written the text to convey nonsense. In other words, the two reforms of Asa serve, among others, as a contextual marker informing the readerships that they should not read the book in a way governed by an assumption of detailed referentiality and its associated logic.37 Of course, it had to be written to convey truthful meanings, but its didactical intentions were somewhere else, for instance, among many others, about teaching the primary readerships about the behavior required of a good king, the importance of prophets calling people to YHWH and the proper response to them, matters of divine testing of the pious,38 and comparisons between Asa, Hezekiah and Josiah, all of whom led reforms that were followed by foreign invasions. It is worth noting that cases of cultic reforms at seemingly unlikely times are not restricted to one particular account, that of Asa. The case of this king’s purge following the reign of pious Abijah is reminiscent to some extent of Josiah’s. Given that the reign of Josiah directly follows the pious late period of Manasseh (2 Chron. 33.12-17) and the short reign of Amon, a reading approach using logic based on narrowly understood referentiality would have required that the latter be construed as a major counterreformer, in the mold of Ahaz or Manasseh in his first period, but nothing of the sort occurs in Chronicles, which allocates only five verses to his reign.39 Similar considerations apply to Josiah’s command to the Levites ‫תנו‬

‫את־ארון־הקדש בבית אשר בנה שלמה בן־דויד מלך ישראל אין־לכם משא בכתף‬ (‘place the holy ark in the house that Solomon, the son of David, king of Israel, built; you need no longer carry it on your shoulder’; 2 Chron. 35.3).


53

The intended readers are nowhere asked to concern themselves with questions such as when and who removed the ark from the temple – in itself an important cultic item. In fact, the text makes it almost impossible to deal with these matters, since it would have been very difficult for the primary readerships of Chronicles to assume that the ark was not in the temple during the late years of Manasseh’s reign and nothing suggests that Amon removed it (see above).40 Instead of paying attention to these questions of narrow factual mimesis, they were asked read the text within a mode that sought meaning in, for instance, the relationship created by the text between the deeds and words of Josiah and Solomon (2 Chron. 6.1011) and the implications of this relationship, since neither the temple nor the dynasty were to last long after Josiah’s death. 2.5. Cases Involving Time or Temporal Relations 2.5.1. Genealogical time expands and contracts. I discussed ‘time’ in Chronicles elsewhere.41 For the purposes of this essay, it suffices to draw attention to a few clearly stated facts in the narrative of Chronicles. The primary readerships were informed by 1 Chron. 29.22 that Zadok was the priest at the time of David and the person who was anointed as priest when Solomon was anointed as ‫נגיד‬.42 They were also informed in 1 Chronicles 543 that this Zadok was the father of Ahimaaz, who was the father of Azariah, who was the father of Johanan, who in turn was the father of Azariah who served as priest in the house that Solomon built in Jerusalem (1 Chron. 5.34-36).44 In other words, the Chronicler told them that there were five generations of priests during the Solomonic period. This data stands in sharp contrast with the four generations of priests in Chronicles that occupied the time from Solomonic Azariah to the reform of Josiah, that is, well over 300 years within the Chronicler’s own sequential time.45 Were the primary readerships of the book supposed to assume that the Chronicler wished for them to learn from this seemingly factual observation that priests were blessed with longer lives following the death of Solomon and until the reform of Josiah? Of course, this is not the case. Such an approach would have been considered absurd. This being so, one has to conclude that the primary readerships could not have grasped the intention of the Chronicles as an attempt to communicate narrow historical referentiality. In other words, they could not have approached this particular aspect of the text within a strategy of reading that raises these types of questions. Instead they most likely understood genealogical density as a literary and ideological device meant to create a sense of time expansion, that for the intended and primary readerships was directly associated

54


with the Solomonic period and the beginning of the temple, that is, crucial times in the history of Israel shaped and communicated by the book.46 2.5.2. Too little or too much time. Cases of seemingly problematic temporality in Chronicles are not restricted to genealogical lists. 2 Chronicles 13.21 clearly suggested to the primary readerships that Abijah married his fourteen wives and fathered twenty-two sons and sixteen daughters when he was king.47 But he reigned only for three years (2 Chron. 13.2). The message of the text was most likely understood in terms of the use of the motif of multiple progeny as marker of blessing, which within the text is presented as a divine response to Abijah’s pious deeds as king. There are no hints in the text that either the authorship or the primary readerships were concerned about or even raised the problematic logistics of the matter.48 To be sure, perhaps one might argue that the last example could have been understood by the primary readerships in terms of a miraculous divine action, in which case from their perspective it would have pointed at factual referentiality. Whatever the merits of such a proposal, the same cannot be said of the following example. Kalimi has emphasized and demonstrated the use of literary proximity to convey a sense of chronological proximity in the book of Chronicles.49 One of the most obvious cases of literarychronological proximity involves the reform of Josiah and the campaign of Pharaoh Necho (2 Chron. 35.19-20).50 Chronicles neither attempts to conceal nor can conceal from its readers that the confrontation between Necho and Josiah that resulted in the latter’s death must take place in absolute referential time by the king’s last regnal year, that is his thirtyfirst year (2 Chron. 34.1). At the same time, the narrative about Josiah in Chronicles clearly associates his disobedience and death with the aftermath of his cultic purge, that is, with his eighteenth year (2 Chron. 35.1920). The primary readerships are asked to approach the text from a point-driven reading strategy that aims at uncovering the ‘real meaning’ of the events described in the narrative and which focuses on, among others, an implicit comparison between Hezekiah and Josiah along with its ideological implications,51 and the ubiquitous motif of divine testing of pious kings.52 It is not that these readerships did not know that the two events are separated by more than ten years, but they were supposed to bracket out that knowledge so as to grasp the true message of the text. From this perspective, raising the matter of the thirteen chronological years between the reform and Josiah’s death would be not only irrelevant but positive proof of a lack of reading competence.


55

2.5.3. Speeches and seemingly problematic temporal circumstances. Bracketing and not bracketing off. Ancient readers within the primary readerships of Chronicles would have also showed their lack of reading competence if they had asked questions such as why the voice, style and viewpoint of numerous speakers in the book closely resembled those of the narrator? Or how did the Chronicler know the exact words he placed in the mouths of speakers at crucial moments in the narratives? In fact, there was most likely an awareness that historians wrote the speeches that central characters were expected to deliver under specific circumstances.53 This being so, it is particularly interesting for the present purposes that at times the words of a godly speaker within the book of Chronicles seem on the surface more than a bit out of place within the purported historical context in which they are placed, if either the context or the speech or both are understood in terms of narrowly understood referentiality. To illustrate, the referent of the review and construction of the past in Azariah’s speech in 2 Chron. 15.3-654 cannot be the aftermath of Asa’s glorious victory over Zerah – which is described in superlative terms in Chronicles – or the celebrated peaceful period that immediately preceded it, or, for that matter, the regnal periods of Abijah, Rehoboam (for the most part – under whom, in any case, there were priests and the like), Solomon or David. But there is little reason for the addressees in the world of the book (i.e., Asa and his people) to skip all these periods just to recall in their minds the background of the period of the Judges,55 or to associate this particular review of the past with northern Israel only,56 or to understand it as reflecting future (eschatological?) times. In fact, even from the perspective of the primary readerships that bracketed off the circumstances of the speech within the world of the book, the referent/s of the text resist unequivocal identification. To be sure, some aspects of the text may have suggested to them that Azariah referred to the period of the Judges (see v. 4) and that this is what the Chronicler wanted to convey. But other aspects and explicit word choices (cf. v. 5a with Zech. 8.10) in the text pointed in a different direction. Moreover, they were aware that the Chronicler does not mention the period of Judges elsewhere in the book. Similarly, there was no reason for them to conclude that the Chronicler wanted them to understand Azariah’s words as referring unequivocally to future (eschatological?) circumstances. The plain fact is that the text remained open to more than one partial association with a particular period whereas at the same time conveying an ideological truth. In other words, the text was conveying a non-contingent truth. The primary readerships of the book understood that the words of

56


Azariah were meant to educate Asa and his people, as well as themselves of an ideological, non-contingent truth that applies to all, through all time, including, of course, Asa’s and the primary readerships’ days. This being so, it is worth noticing that this truth is shaped around and based on textual references to other authoritative books in the literati’s repertoire,57 but which were not necessarily known to Asa. Narrowly understood questions of factual accuracy such as ‘did Asa know the precise text of Zech. 8.10?’ had to be bracketed off again, to let the text and the Chronicler convey its message.58 Even as certain questions of historical referentiality had to be bracketed off and even as the mentioned truth was understood as non-contingent and applying equally to Asa’s and to the primary readerships’ days, the explicit (hi)storical association of the message of Azariah with Asa in the world of the book was certainly meaningful and could not be ignored. The fact that such a godly message was reported as having been communicated by a true prophet to Asa and the people of his generation, along with the explicit account about their positive response to this truth, contributes much to the positive characterization of Asa as a major pious king.59 This ideological role is emphasized by the very choice of the name of the prophet, i.e., Azariah, which is more than a simple pun on Asa’s words in 2 Chron. 14.10 ‫‘( יהוה אין־עמך לעזור בין רב לאין כח עזרנו יהוה אלהינו כי־עליך נשענו‬there is no difference for you between helping the mighty and the weak. Help us, YHWH, our God, for we rely on you’). The particular name of the prophet serves to shape a tight link between Asa’s request of help (14.10) from the divine and the divinely ordained presence of a prophet, whose name (Azariahu) means ‘YHWH has helped’, before Asa (15.1). The Chronicler communicated to the primary readerships that YHWH has helped not necessarily or mainly by giving Asa and his people victory over Zerah, but by providing them with a permanent teaching through a true, divinely inspired prophet (‘YHWH has helped’). Above all, it teaches them that they were supposed to understand YHWH’s instruction through the prophet as the main fulfillment of Asa’s desire of help from YHWH, and a blessing by itself. In this instance, the primary readerships were asked to develop a strategy of reading that focused, among others, on these ideological matters and on the use and reuse of scripture and its implications, but relegated questions such as did Asa know Zech. 8.10? Or did the past portrayed in Azariah’s speech reflect ‘historically’ Asa’s days? Or Abijah’s days? Or Solomon’s days? Or to whose days did it refer?60 This example illuminates the nuanced strategies of reading that at times the primary readerships were supposed to adopt on matters of bracketing


57

and not bracketing off questions of historical referentiality. On the one hand, to understand the meaning of the text, they had to bracket them off in relation to the world of the past portrayed and assumed in the prophetic speech; on the other hand, they were supposed to relate the speech directly to Asa and even to a particular time in his reign. 2.6. Do the Citations in Chronicles Undermine the Previous Considerations? The central observation advanced by the cumulative weight of the evidence surveyed above is that the primary readerships of Chronicles were led to construe the Chronicler as one who does not always convey or wishes to convey accurate history in a narrow sense, but some other type of truth that cannot be reached by approaching the text with strategies of reading based on narrow referentiality. It might be claimed, however, that Chronicles’ numerous citations conveyed to the primary readerships a contrary claim, namely that he was communicating detailed, accurate ‘history’.61 The general issue of the rhetorical role of source citations or references in Chronicles deserves a full study. For the present purposes, it suffices to note that there are insurmountable difficulties in reconstructing the reading strategies of the intended readerships of these sources, if they existed at all. Further, and more importantly, how were the primary readerships of the book of Chronicles supposed to construe the Chronicler’s preferred strategies for reading the sources he claims to have known?62 Significantly, the actual, primary readership of Chronicles knew about the Chronicler’s use of his main sources, namely the narratives in Samuel and Kings, for all these texts were available to them and were part of the repertoire that created the textual community of which they were part as they read Chronicles. Moreover, it is far more likely that they thought that the range of reading strategies that the Chronicler asked them to adopt as they read his book was not substantially different from that which the Chronicler would have adopted with his sources. This being so, it seems likely that the primary readerships of Chronicles construed the Chronicler as one who did not always read his sources within a fully referential mode of reading based on narrowly understood factuality. In sum, whether the sources existed or not, it is certain that the Chronicler rhetorically used references to them to convince the primary readerships of the truthfulness and reliability of the events described in the book. But for the Chronicler and these readers truthful and reliable images of the past are not confined to those that comply with the requirements of reading models and logics grounded on the type of historical precision generated by narrowly defined referentiality. They considered an image of the past to be true, if it served

58


as an illustration that advances proper ideology, behavior and understanding of the past and YHWH, for Chronicles is about (hi)story for a social and ideological purpose. 3. Placing These Observations within the Context of the General Repertoire of (Hi)storiographical, Authoritative Texts from Persian Yehud As mentioned above, the Jerusalemite literati in the Yehud and early Hellenistic period constituted to some extent a textual community, that is, a community shaped around authoritative texts they wrote, read, edited, studied, copied and read to others, and the messages about the divine that were reflected and shaped by these messages. Within this community at any time there were several constructions of the past, all of which were based on accepted texts. It is precisely because the primary readerships of Chronicles did not approach it with a reading strategy based on detailed referentiality and the historical logic that it implies, that they could hold as true in a meaningful sense both Samuel–Kings and Chronicles at the same time, even if they would contradict each other from such a perspective.63 Further, one can hardly expect that within these communities of ancient readers books be written and accepted as authoritative if they required their readers to adopt modes of readings that were unheard of within the community. In other words, one is to expect that to some extent or other Chronicles would not be alone in its requirements from the literati. Chronicles certainly was not alone in this regard. Although each narrative work that shaped images of the past in ancient Israel was different, and each showed diverse degrees in mimesis, all of them implied readerships that would know that at times the preferred reading approach to the text was not to ask questions associated with a narrowly understood concept of factual accuracy. Genesis, for instance, conveys two different accounts of creation and other episodes that were unlikely to be read within a reading strategy that raises the type of questions associated with a narrowly defined understanding of true referentiality.64 Notwithstanding all the differences, the ancient readers could not but understand that the book of Kings presented two contradictory images of the reign of Solomon regarding forced labor (see 1 Kgs 5.27-32; 11.28 and contrast with 1 Kgs 9.20-22) and the implied author of Kings wished them to consider both as true. They also noticed that Judg. 1.8 and 1.21 report that Jebusite Jerusalem was conquered and that it was not, because the Jebusites remained in power and they also knew of Josh. 15.63. They learned from 1 Sam. 17.54 that David brought the head of Goliath to Jerusalem when Saul was still king and the


59

city was, from a narrow referential viewpoint a Jebusite city, according to the main narrative of the book. Of course, a crucial component of the main narrative in the book of Samuel is the story about David killing Goliath (1 Samuel 17; see the close link between 1 Samuel 17 and 18 and the ensuing narrative). But the readers of the book of Samuel are also told that Elhanan son of Jaare-oregim, the Bethlehemite, killed Goliath (2 Sam. 21.19). These examples can be easily multiplied, but they suffice to demonstrate that Chronicles certainly was not alone in asking its primary readerships to approach the text at times with a strategy of reading that is not governed by expectations associated with narrowly understood mimesis. The example that raised the question of the identity of Goliath’s killer points at another important feature of the literati who read and composed historiographical works. It shows that the very same literati did both (a) develop and read texts that require non-mimetic modes of readings, as demonstrated above and (b) emended some existing traditions so as to fit them better to mimetic expectations. The authorship and primary readership of Chronicles were responsible for the cases discussed in section 2, but also for the note explaining that Elhanan son of Jaare-oregim, the Bethlehemite, killed not Goliath, but the brother of Goliath (1 Chron. 20.5), which is meant to alleviate the tension caused by a reading of the relevant passages in Samuel within a mimetic mode of reading.65 These literati were not constrained to one mode of reading, nor did they have one in mind when they wrote for a readership constrained to one single reading strategy. At times, they employed those that carried strong narrowly understood mimetic claims, and at times preferred alternative strategies. Of course, this matter raises the question of how to distinguish between these two instances. From a methodological perspective questions of explicit textual markers and unequivocal elements in the world of knowledge of the authorship/primary readerships are to be the deciding factor. A practical application of these considerations to a particular account in Chronicles is carried out in section 4 to illustrate these matters. Before one turns to applications, however, the considerations advanced in section 2 must be placed in proportion. To be sure, the cumulative weight of the evidence demonstrates beyond doubt that at times the primary readerships of the book were asked to read literary subunits within it in a way that was not governed by considerations of narrowly understood referentiality, and that in fact, a fully mimetic reading approach would have impeded their understanding of the message of the Chronicler and of the ‘true’ image of the past it conveys. This being so, the term ‘true’ was not necessarily understood in narrow mimetic terms.

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At the same time, it is to be stressed that a ‘true’ image of the past of the community could not contradict a set of basic core ‘facts’ agreed upon by the community about its past. It could not stand against the literati’s memory of Israel (i.e., of themselves, to a large extent), or even against its grain.66 Although narrow referentiality was certainly not a requisite, no story could associate the death of Josiah with Sennacherib. The Chronicler could be imagined as stating that Asa did and did not remove the bamot, refer to his two cultic purges, and even to his two mothers, but not as one claiming, for instance, that Asa was Solomon’s son or that he was the last king of Judah. Similarly, the text cannot extend the reign of Abijah nor shorten, for that matter, that of Manasseh.67 As in many other issues, the Chronicler shaped and communicated a sense of proportion, through two messages that may seem in tension.68 On the one hand, there was the clear message that in numerous cases a mode of reading based on (narrow) historical referentiality should not be adopted. On the other hand, the book reinforced the message that there cannot be any deviation from referentiality in the sense of a general coherence with accepted memories in their main thrust.69 The messages are not contradictory, but complementary. Chronicles asked its primary readerships to understand its narrative of the past as both a historically reliable representation of events and circumstances in its general lines, but at the same time as one that is not constrained by expectations of fully mimetic representations and their internal logic. 4. Applying These Considerations to the Account of Amaziah (2 Chronicles 25) 4.1. Introduction The value for the study of the book of Chronicles and of the considerations advanced above is related directly not only to its possible implications for general matters of ancient historiography, but to their power to explain a number of instances in a variety of units, and above all the presence of seemingly odd references in different literary units or subunits throughout the book. The following is an illustration of the explanatory power of these considerations, as they apply to some seemingly odd features of the account of Amaziah in Chronicles.70 4.2. Numbers of Seirites and Sela Images To begin with a rather straightforward case, according to 2 Chron. 25.11-12, Amaziah struck 10,000 Edomites and captured exactly the same number.


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Further the 10,000 who were captured were executed by bringing each of them to the top of the cliff/Sela (‫ )ראש־הסלע‬and then throwing them from the top of the cliff/Sela (‫)ראש־הסלע‬, so that they all of them burst open upon their fall. It seems certain that the Chronicler did not ask the primary readerships to focus on the question of how likely it is that the two numbers were exactly the same, or on the logistic problems that such a form of execution carries.71 Intended and proficient primary readers were supposed to focus on matters such as the pun on words in ‫‘ בני־שעיר עשרת אלפים‬ten (‫ )עשרת‬thousand Seirites’. The pun is not only consistent with the literary style of the Chroniclers, but it also conveys a link between the identity of those killed in battle, Seirites, and the number of those who actually fell, ten/(ten thousand). Given this nomen-omen perspective, it is not surprising that the number of Seirites captives is also 10,000. Moreover, the close repetition of the key word ‫‘ עשרת‬ten’ reinforces the pun.72 The primary readerships were to focus also on the reference to Edomite Sela73 that turns the widely-known Edomite/Seirite stronghold and very height on which its strength was grounded into the instrument of their death.74 This reference also served to evoke texts such as Pss. 137.9; 141.6 and Jer. 51.25. Given this discursive context, the image of their execution served to bring into the text the type of metaphorical association between Edom and Babylon and that which is evil and counter to YHWH that is well attested in postmonarchic discourses (e.g., Ps. 137.7-9).75 4.3. The Case of a Large Freelance Army of Mercenaries It is remarkable that Chronicles (vv. 6, 9) does not state that king Amaziah sought help from King Joash of Israel and hired the troop from him (cf. the account of Ahaz). Instead it conveys an image of an Israel populated with nothing less than 100,000 mighty warriors who constituted a kind of freelance group not subject to royal authority at all and in control of very substantial wealth. The primary readerships of the book most likely bracketed out the problematic matter of the factual accuracy and focused on the meaning that such characterizations of Israel and its king carried within the narrative. Joash is portrayed as an utterly powerless king, who becomes extremely powerful as soon as Ahaziah fails to properly approach YHWH (see below).76 4.4. The Case of the Raiding Northern Mercenaries Another remarkable case involves 2 Chron. 25.13. According to this text, the men of the Ephraimite troop whom Amaziah, in a pious deed, sent back to their place (v. 10) fell upon the cities of Judah, from Samaria to

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Beth-horon, and killed three thousand people in them, and took much spoil.77 The text, if read in a way informed by the preceding verses is one among several in Chronicles that make the point that pious deeds may and have led at times to results often associated with divine judgment, such as destruction and death.78 It must be noticed, however, that the text is certainly polyvalent and carries two other readings that balance and place the first in proportion, as typical in the book of Chronicles.79 More significant for the present purposes is the explicit geographical reference to ‫ערי יהודה‬ ‫‘ משמרון ועד־בית חורון‬the cities of Judah from Samaria to Beth-horon’. Williamson writes that ‘Samaria is out of place here, since it is well within the northern kingdom…[i]t must be an error for a Judean town’.80 Rudolph suggests an identification for that supposedly Judean town, Migron (‫)מגרון‬, a place mentioned in Isa. 10.28 and 1 Sam. 14.2.81 Not only there is no support for textual emendations of the term Samaria,82 but such proposals do not explain the message of the existing text to its primary readerships. In addition to the fact that any reference to Samaria evoked in the primary readerships an image of the northern city, the text explicitly affirms that the mercenary troops raided the cities from Samaria to Bethhoron, not vice versa. This statement is consistent with the information provided in v. 10 according to which the mercenaries returned to Ephraim (‫ )וישובו למקומם‬before raiding the cities of Judah. This being the case, according to the Chronicler’s narrative, the raid had to proceed from north to south and Samaria therefore must be located, as expected within the world of knowledge of the authorship and primary readerships of Chronicles, north of Beth-horon.83 Samaria is not the only troublesome geographical reference here. Bethhoron is itself a town within Ephraim, as the Chronicler clearly states in 1 Chron. 6.53; 7.24, and in fact, historically it was part of the northern kingdom of Israel at the time. Even if one were to argue that the authorship and primary readerships of Chronicles were not aware of the matter,84 it is almost impossible to assume that such readerships thought that Samaria or the area nearby were part of Judah at the time, or at any time for that matter.85 Moreover, as the attention shifts to the world of knowledge of an authorship/readership group of literati in Persian Yehud, the reference to Beth-horon is fully understandable as pointing to the northern border of Yehud86 (and from their perspective, likely that of monarchic Judah). In other words, within a perspective informed by the world of knowledge of the Yehudite literati the raid affected a territory outside Yehud, from the center of the province of Samaria to the very border of Yehud.


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Johnstone maintains that since the cities (Beth-horon and Samaria) belong to the north, the text seems to ridicule the troops, by stating that in their anger they attacked their own people, whom they were supposed to defend.87 But the sting of the ridicule stands if the text associates the cities with Ephraim. The Chronicler, however, explicitly and emphatically refers to them as Judah’s cities. Japhet attempts to solve the problem by positing the (historical) existence of scattered cities which belonged to Judah within the territory of the northern kingdom. According to her, ‘the Ephraimite band, avoiding the risk of actually raiding Judaean territories, may have fallen upon the “cities of Judah” scattered in Ephraim’.88 The factual existence of such extra-territorial cities in the midst of the much more powerful northern kingdom is, however, extremely unlikely.89 It is also unlikely that the primary readerships thought that the Chronicler intended here to communicate to them that Judah conquered the Ephraimite territory as far as Samaria, or that likely following such a conquest, Judahite enclaves were set within the territory of the northern kingdom as far as its capital, Samaria.90 Significantly, such towns or conquests are not mentioned elsewhere. Had the Chronicler wished to convey that point, which would have been a major one, the primary readerships would have expected much more than a minor, oblique and passing reference on the matter. This being so and given the considerations discussed above, it seems more reasonable to assume the primary readerships were supposed to approach the text from a perspective other than representing in a fully mimetic manner a past reality.91 Rather than coming to the text with questions about the historical accuracy of the reference to these cities, or for that matter to a man with two mothers and four generations of priests spanning more than three hundred years, the primary readerships were supposed to focus on the communicative significance of these references within its narrative and ideological contexts. In this particular case, the salient mention of ‘the cities of Judah from Samaria to Beth-horon’ serves to construe an image of the past in which the power and blessed status of Judah at the time when its king follows YHWH is substantially enhanced vis à vis that of Israel (the main ideological counter image of Judah). This characterization of Judah’s power and status is brought, however, not for its own sake. The main point is that such power evaporates, in a miraculous way, as soon as the king forsakes YHWH’s ways (see vv. 14, 15-24, and read v. 13 in the way informed by vv. 14-15). A king who was supported by YHWH and whose cities stood as it were at the very heart of the kingdom of Israel is quickly and fully transformed from his sin, and is correctly recognized by others as the simple thornbush of Lebanon (‫)החוח אשר בלבנון‬.

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Significantly, at the very same time the king of Israel who a short moment ago, within the world of the narrative, controlled neither the area by his own capital, Samaria, nor massive bands of free mercenaries in his own realm becomes instantly a cedar of Lebanon (‫)הארז אשר בלבנון‬, that is a majestic tree/king. Under these circumstances, not incidentally, the Israelite king is portrayed as one who bears a godly message to Amaziah (v. 19) in a manner reminiscent of that of Necho to Josiah.92 Of course, these messages went unheard. It is worth noting also that the text goes even as far as to connote a structural and literary association between the Ephraimite band and YHWH. The anger of the Ephraimite band anticipates that of YHWH,93 and their success against Judah, whose king already sinned or was about to sin,94 anticipates that of YHWH’s tool for judgment, the Israelite/Ephraimite army. As one takes the cities of Judah in the north (outside Yehud), the other does so those in Judah proper (that is, Yehud), as one raids the northern cities, the other raids the temple in Jerusalem, and both are, of course, governed by YHWH. 4.5. The Case of Utterly Unreasonable Actions The actions of Amaziah described in v. 14 are obviously presented as counter to any expectation and fully unpredictable.95 Why would a king reject the god who gave him a great victory and turn to the god of the defeated? In fact, this question is explicitly posed to the king in the world of the text and to the readers of the book by a prophet in v. 15. The king, who before was pious and perceptive, is portrayed as unable to understand the most obvious truth in the message of the prophet, and in a miraculous manner finds others who share his inability (see v. 17 and note the contrastive pun on words of the root ‫ יעץ‬in vv. 16-17). In other words, Ahaziah’s actions (and those of his companions) are presented as deeply illogical. For the present purposes, this observation raises an interesting question: was the Chronicler understood by its primary readerships as communicating in this particular case a mimetic picture of the past, or as one who asked them to bracket off questions of narrow historicity, as in other instances discussed above? Neither of the two alternatives can be ruled out, and in fact, it is likely that they were not really alternatives, but complementary positions. At the same time, it is worth noting that these irrational actions are explained as caused by YHWH’s decision,96 as those in the episode of the secession of the north.97 To be sure, the primary readerships of Chronicles were asked to read, understand, accept, learn and ponder the message


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conveyed by the analogous report about Rehoboam and northern Israel’s wholly illogical actions at the time of the secession within the narrative world of Chronicles, without recourse to their knowledge of the book of Kings. But, at the same time, the literati who constituted these primary readerships certainly were aware of a very different and partially incompatible story in Kings. They could accept, learn and ponder about the meanings of both narratives of secession only if at very least they bracketed out questions about narrowly defined historicity.98 If the analogous case of Rehoboam is any indication, then the same process of bracketing out narrowly defined historicity or ‘factual accuracy’ was at work in the portrayal of Amaziah (and his fellows) irrational actions. Of course, as mentioned above, this conclusion does not rule out the likely existence of other complementary readings and rereadings developed under slightly different modes of reading the same text. 5. Conclusion The evidence gathered here indicates that the primary readerships of the book were asked to, and most likely did approach some passages in Chronicles (and other [hi]storiographical works) from perspectives other than collecting information so as to recreate a fully mimetic, on the surface true, image of past events. This evidence also indicates that such passages were marked, so the primary readerships that approached the text, reading it within rather than against its grain, could recognize them. In all these cases, the Chronicler does not claim to provide as it were a transparent window into the past, but something akin to a painting of the past with a particular point to make, that is, as representations that bring forward a truth or sets of truths but not necessarily a detailed, mimetic and fully historically reliable picture of events and circumstances of the past. In these cases, the primary readerships were invited to observe and learn from that ‘painting’, but to do so they had to bracket out assumptions about, and questions rising from approaches grounded on narrowly defined historicity. To be sure, proficient readers come with certain questions to the text and bracket others, on the basis of their recognition of its genre. These considerations about Chronicles raise therefore, issues associated with socially agreed distinctions and delimitations concerning genres in ancient Yehud, and especially between historical and fictional narrative. I discussed these matters at length elsewhere,99 but for the present purposes, it suffices to say that the primary readerships most likely believed that the

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communicator speaking to them through the text of Chronicles, that is, the Chronicler, was relating to them the events as they truly happened. But ‘truly’ here does not point at ‘truth’ in the sense of ‘objective’ truth, or history as ‘it actually happened’. The literati who constituted these communities of readers neither expected nor demanded full and complete mimesis with past events. Nor did their historiographical works claim to provide it. In fact, it seems that incongruent meanings at the mimetic level served, from the perspective of the primary readerships at the very least to, as devices to draw attention to meanings of the text at other levels. It is to be stressed that this holds true whether the actual author willfully intended to create incongruence in the text from the very outset or not. This being said, it is unreasonable to assume that authorships would always be unaware of the rhetorical effect of incongruence on the readerships of their works. The evidence discussed here, along with the use of typology, common topoi and the use and reuse of similar narratives or narrative fragments in different instances to convey meanings, along with explicit contradictions between statements in different authoritative books or within the very same book, if taken at face value, demonstrate the point beyond doubt. From their perspective, a truthful text that portrays events in their past has to be true in regards to its ideological meaningfulness and consistent with a set of core facts about the past that were agreed upon within the community.100 As expected, the same or similar principles applied to other texts in their repertoire of authoritative books that communicated images of the past, and accordingly, the textual phenomena described here appear in these other texts as well. The described openness towards reading approaches that do not assume or require (historical) mimesis is consistent with emphasis on style, rhetoric and ideology in ancient historiography in general,101 and may be indicative of an awareness among the Yehudite literati of the character and social role of memory within the community, as opposed to a simple recollection of ‘historically’ precise data. Finally, these observations bear implications not only for the study of ancient Israelite historiography and for that of the possible differences and overlaps between ‘historical’ and ‘fictional’ narratives,102 but also practical applications for the study of particular accounts in Chronicles. The latter was illustrated with several examples from the account of Amaziah in 2 Chronicles 25.103


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Endnotes 1. The book was meant to be read, reread, and most likely read to others. It cannot be overstressed that readings of the book by the literati of Yehud were rereadings of the book. I discussed elsewhere the importance of rereading see, for instance, E. Ben Zvi, Signs of Jonah: Reading and Rereading in Ancient Yehud (JSOTSup, 367; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2003) and bibliography cited there. Only for the sake of simplicity were the terms ‘rereading’, ‘rereadership’ and the like supplanted by ‘reading’, ‘readership’ and the like. 2. Chronicles presents itself as an authoritative book and its claim was accepted most likely by at least some primary readerships. 3. Cf. the explicit expectation of both proper contents and esthetically pleasant writing stated in Qoh. 12.10. Certainly, numerous literary features of Chronicles point that much attention was given to the latter. Cf. I. Kalimi, The Reshaping of Ancient Israelite History in Chronicles (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2005). 4. I agree with those scholars who date the book to the late Achaemenid Yehud. See, for instance, I. Kalimi, An Ancient Israelite Historian: Studies in the Chronicler, his Time, Place and Writing (SSN, 46; Assen: Royal Van Gorcum, 2005), pp. 41-65; H.G.M. Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles (NCBC; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1982), pp. 15-17. A date in the early Hellenistic period is also possible; see R. Albertz, A History of Israelite Religion in the Old Testament Period (OTL; 2 vols.; Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1994), II, p. 545; S. Japhet, I and II Chronicles (OTL; Louisville, KY; Westminster/John Knox Press, 1993), pp. 23-28; on this debate see G.N. Knoppers, 1 Chronicles 1–9 (AB, 12; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 2004), pp. 10117 and note also G.N. Knoppers, ‘Greek Historiography and the Chronicler’s History: A Reexamination’, JBL 122 (2003), pp. 15-30. In any event, the arguments advanced here are not dependent on whether the book was written during the late Persian period or early Hellenistic period. 5. Had there been an unbridgeable gap between the two, the book would not have been accepted at all by the readership; in fact, it is unlikely that such a book would have been written at all. 6. Incidentally, one may note the substantial endeavor involved in copying the text time and again. The book is among the largest in the Hebrew Bible, surpassed in number of words only by Samuel and Kings. These two and Chronicles had to be written in two scrolls. 7. Cf. L.K. Handy, ‘One Problem Involved in Translating to Meaning: An Example of Acknowledging Time and Tradition’, SJOT 10 (1996), pp. 16-27. 8. Kalimi, Reshaping of Ancient Israelite History. 9. Cf. G. Rusch, ‘Comprehension vs. Understanding of Literature’, in S. Tötösy de Zepetnek and I. Sywenky (eds.), The Systemic and Empirical Approach to Literature and Culture as Theory and Application (Siegen University, 1997), pp. 107-19, esp. 115. 10. For methodological underpinnings and applications of the approach taken here see among others, Rusch, ‘Comprehension vs. Understanding’; D. Kraemer, ‘The Intended Reader as a Key to Interpreting the Bavli’, Prooftexts 13 (1993), pp. 125-40; Ben Zvi, Signs of Jonah: pp. 3-6 and passim; idem, A Historical-Critical Study of the

68


Book of Obadiah (BZAW, 242; Berlin/New York: W. de Gruyter, 1996), pp. 43-45 and passim. The approach used here and in my previous works is similar to that advanced in E.W. Conrad, ‘Forming the Twelve and Forming Canon’, in P.L. Redditt and A. Schart (eds.), Thematic Threads in the Book of the Twelve (BZAW, 325; Berlin: W. de Gruyter, 2003), pp. 90-103, esp. 93-96. Following Eco, Conrad refers to the Model Reader and Model Author, which in the terminology used here are certainly comparable to ‘the intended readership’ and ‘implied author’. Conrad’s ‘intention of the work’ is comparable to some extent to ‘the communicative wishes of the implied author as constructed by the intended readership’. 11. It is more likely that these readerships imagined the implied author of the book as male than female. 12. Notwithstanding all the obvious differences, Picasso’s painting Guernica provides its readers what Picasso, and many others, thought to be a true representation of events in the Spanish Civil War. In fact, it is impossible to understand the painting in its original historical context in a different manner, but no one would like to claim direct and naïve referentiality for figures in the painting. In fact, such a claim would have interfered with a proper understanding of the message of the author. Cf. and contrast this image of a painting with that of the girl with two thumbs of P. Long. 13. To be sure, this is only one subset in Chronicles and the messages it conveyed to the intended and relevant primary readerships informed but were also informed by other subsets in the book, a point to which I will come later. 14. According to 2 Chron. 15.16 (//2 Kgs 15.13) the mother of Asa is a woman also called Maacah. Since Asa is referred to as Abijah’s son (2 Chron. 13.31), the primary readerships of Chronicles were most likely asked to understand this Maacah to be another woman who bore the same name as Rehoboam’s beloved wife and Abijah’s mother. It is possible, though far less likely that they have understood this Maacah to be the same as Abijah’s mother and therefore the daughter of Absalom, in which case, ‫‘ אם‬mother’ would denote in 2 Chron. 15.15 ‘grandmother’ (cf. 1 Kgs 15.10). One may notice, however, that Chronicles omits the text of 1 Kgs 15.10 and never characterizes the Maacah who is the mother of Asa as daughter of Absalom. 15. Neither her name, nor that of his father is even similar to that of Rehoboam’s beloved wife. ‫ מעכה‬is clearly different from ‫מיכיהו‬. There is no reason at all to assume that the latter is a Chronistic version of the former, or that the sound of the ‫ ע‬would have been lost, or that ‘Micaiahu, the daughter of Uriel of Gibeah’ is simply a ‘scribal variant’ of ‘Maacah, the daughter of Absalom’, unless one assumes beforehand that the two must be one. Of course, one may always argue about the reference to a father, whether this is really to a father or to an ancestor (e.g., grandfather), but the text does not provide any clear hint that this is the case here; moreover, the cumulative weight of a different name and different patronym certainly suggests to the readership that two different people are mentioned 16. E.g., S.J. de Vries, 1 and 2 Chronicles (FOTL, XI; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1989), p. 291. Certainly the Chronicler is not trying to convince the intended readership of Chronicles that the book they are reading is ‘in error’. To maintain that the text is in ‘error’ is relevant to the project of writing ancient Israelite history. Within this endeavor, the statement is tantamount to saying that in this instance the book of


69

Chronicles is not ‘historically reliable’. The statement, however, is less relevant to other projects, such as reading the book as it is and advancing an understanding of the most likely ways in which the intended readership interpreted the reports and made sense of them. 17. On the surface, one may argue that this particular example is simply a case of historian’s inconsistency (cf. Josephus, among many others) and that the primary readerships recognized it just that way and accordingly, paid no attention to it. There are several problems with this interpretation, however. Among them, (a) it does not deal with the claim to authority of the text, which had to accepted by the primary readerships; (b) it does not address the matter that biblical books, including Chronicles, seem to have undergone revisions and that for a while at least, their readers and writers were the same social group; (c) it avoids rather than engages with the text that eventually crystallized after the redactional processes that shaped the Hebrew text of Chronicles ended, that is the present text. On Josephus’ inconsistencies and the debate about its possible implications, see S. Mason, ‘Contradiction or Counterpoint? Josephus and Historical Method’, Review of Rabbinic Judaism 6 (2003), pp. 145-88. 18. No matter, the value one may assign to considerations of most difficult reading or to the reading Maacah, daughter of Abishalom in the parallel text in 1 Kgs 15.2, or for the sake of the argument, to any claims about a hopelessly confused writer, the simple fact remains that there was an historiographical text in which Abijah was associated with two different mothers. Incidentally, the reading in Chronicles is the most difficult reading. The LXX reads Maacah, daughter of Uriel of Gibeon. This is most likely a conflated reading. 19. The ingenious, although always partial, solutions that have at times being proposed, on the assumption that the two must be one have no basis on the text itself. There is nothing in it that may have helped the readers of the book to come to the kind of explanations advanced for instance in Japhet, I and II Chronicles, pp. 670-71, which by her own admission do not solve all the problems. 20. This certainly holds true for the intended readership, but also most likely for primary readerships too, since the latter did accept this work and invested it with authority, that is, they bought into what they considered to be the authorial communicative intentions of the book. 21. The reference to Maacah in 2 Chron. 11.20-22 is part and parcel of a story meant to project, among others, an image of a reunited Davidic house and a kingdom that at a time of war against northern Israel is headed by someone who is a descendant of both Solomon and Absalom. 22. This reference construes an image of close ties between the royal house of Judah and Benjamin, which of course are relevant to the story of Abijah in particular and of the southern kingdom in general. 23. See C. Begg, Josephus’s Account of the Early Divided Monarchy (AJ 8, 212-420) (BETL, 108; Leuven: Leuven University Press/Peeters, 1993), pp. 68 n. 384 and 109-10 n. 688. According to Josephus, Abijah’s mother is Machanē, daughter of Thamarē and granddaughter of Absalōn (8.249) and Asa’s mother is Machaia (8.286). Josephus, just as Chronicles, does not mention the name of the father of Asa’s mother.

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24. Many modern scholars have found this tension problematic and, accordingly, have tried to explain it away in different ways – often by posing a redactional process. For a summary see Japhet, I and II Chronicles, p. 728. It bears notice that she concludes her survey, ‘these contradictions – so glaring to the modern reader – remain an issue that has not yet been adequately clarified’. This essay opens a way to a clarification of these matters. 25. The text of 2 Chron. 15.17, ‫והבמות לא־סרו מישראל רק לבב־אסא היה שלם‬ ‫‘ כל־ימיו‬but the high places were not removed from Israel; nevertheless the heart of Asa was blameless all his days’ raises other issues, but it does not alleviate the supposed tension between removing and not removing the bamot. 26. It bears notice that the Chronicler departed intentionally from the source text in Kings (cf. 1 Kgs 22.44) when he wrote ‫אך הבמות לא־סרו ועוד העם לא־הכינו לבבם‬ ‫‘( לאלהי אבתיהם‬yet the high places were not removed; the people had not yet set their hearts upon the God of their ancestors’; 2 Chron. 20.33, NRSV) just as when he introduced the reference to Micaiahu the daughter of Uriel of Gibeah (see above). On the reign of Jehoshaphat in Chronicles, see Gary N. Knoppers, ‘Reform and Regression: The Chronicler’s Presentation of Jehoshaphat’, Bib 72 (1991), pp. 500-24. 27. On the bamot in Chronicles see S. Japhet, The Ideology of the Book of Chronicles and its Place in Biblical Thought (BEATAJ, 9; Frankfurt am Main: P. Lang, 2nd rev. edn, 1997), pp. 217-21. 28. Cf. 2 Chron. 31.1; 34.4; see also 2 Chron. 32.12; 33.3. 29. The reform of Hezekiah, the king who is lionized the most in Chronicles, involves an unequivocal, complete removal of the bamot (see 2 Chron. 31.1; 32.12; cf. 33.3). Most significantly, from an ideological perspective, the effects of Hezekiah’s total purge of bamot do not last long. Immediately after the death of the king, Manasseh, his own son, rebuilds them (see 2 Chron. 33.3). 30. As typical in Chronicles, these meanings informed and were informed by meanings conveyed by other sections. See Chapters 2 and 8 in this volume. 31. Contrast with 1 Kgs 15.12. Chronicles, however, advances a very different story in this regard. 32. See the eloquent discourse in J. Wellhausen, Prolegomena to the History of Israel (Cleveland and New York: Meridian Books, 1961; German original, Berlin: Reimer, 1883), p. 193. Of course, this approach is very common. See, for instance, Japhet, p. 220 n. 80 which explicitly refers to Wellhausen’s comments on these matters. 33. See 1 Kgs 15.12-13. 34. See 2 Chron. 16.1-12. 35. The readership of Chronicles is supposed to construe Rehoboam as a king who behaved in a positive manner during most of his reign. Abijah is presented altogether as a pious king. The readership is informed that Asa behaved piously since his first to his thirty-fifth year; negative actions are associated with his thirty-sixth to forty-first year only (a minuscule proportion of his reign). Jehoshaphat is presented as a pious king for most (if not almost all) his reign. Cf. P. Welten, Geschichte und Geschichtsdarstellung in den Chronikbüchern (WMANT, 42; Neukirchen–Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1973), pp. 127-28; G.N. Knoppers, ‘Rehoboam in Chronicles: Villain or Victim?’, JBL 109 (1990), pp. 423-40, and Chapter 6 in this volume.


71

36. I discussed the motif of foreign invasions and other calamities against pious kings in E. Ben Zvi, ‘When YHWH Tests People: General Considerations and Particular Observations Regarding the Books of Chronicles and Job’ (forthcoming in a collections of essays edited by Duncan Burns and John Rogerson; revised version of paper presented at the annual meeting of the PNW-SBL held in Vancouver, BC, May 2004). 37. Claims that the two reforms are actually one (e.g., de Vries, 1 and Chronicles, pp. 296-97; see also bibliography cited there) might be relevant to the project of writing ancient Israelite history, but not to that of reconstructing the intended readership’s understanding of the text. Nothing in the text as it is suggests that there was only one purge. To the contrary, the text is quite unequivocal in its separation between the two. Within the world portrayed in the book, actions associated with the first purge led to several and most likely ten years of peace (2 Chron. 13.23; 14.5) that came to an end with Zerah’s invasion (2 Chron. 14.8-14), which in any event must precede Asa’s fifteenth year (2 Chron. 15.10). The second purge is directly associated with the fifteenth year and led to a period of 20 years of peace, till the end of the thirty-fifth year of Asa (2 Chron. 16.1-2). To be sure this chronology is not consistent with that of Kings (see below), but the intended readership of the book is certainly supposed to take it seriously and as truly representative of the position of the implied author, who in fact, was construed as actively involved in persuading the readers to accept it as valid. Needless to say, whether this chronology is historically inaccurate, or for that matter accurate, from our perspective today has no relevance to the construction and acceptance of the communicative intentions of the implied author by the intended and primary readerships of the book of Chronicles. 38. I discussed the ubiquity and meanings of the motif of YHWH’s testing of the pious in Chronicles and elsewhere in Ben Zvi, ‘When YHWH Tests People’. Compare and contrast Japhet, Ideology, pp. 191-98. 39. Two of these five verses actually refer to the coup against him. Very little is said about his deeds. 40. To be sure, later readers, even in pre-critical times did come to Chronicles with different reading strategies and raised these questions. See, for instance, Radaq. Needless to say, the book of Chronicles, as is, was not of much help to them. 41. See Chapter 7 in this volume. 42. Zadok anointed Solomon according to 1 Kgs 1.45. 43. In its present form. For proposals regarding an original text, see, for instance, W. Rudolph, BHS. Proposed textual emendations or redactional suggestions, however, are of no help for the understanding of the authorial communicative intentions of the present book as constructed by its intended readership. 44. Contrast with 1 Kgs 4.2. 45. Abijah 3 years, Asa 41, Jehoshaphat 25, Jehoram 8, Ahaziah 1, no king/Athaliah 6, Joash 40, Amaziah 29, Uzziah 52, Jotham 16, Ahaz 16, Hezekiah 29, Manasseh 55, Amon 2. 46. The approximately 50 years of sequential time span from Josiah (including his entire reign) to the destruction of Jerusalem (Josiah 31 years, Jehoahaz 3 months, Jehoiakim 11 years, Jehoiachin 3 months, Zedekiah 11 years), another important period in Chronicles’ (hi)story, are populated by four sequential generations of priests. Hilkiah

72


is the priest in the eighth year of the reign of Josiah (2 Chron. 34.8-9). The other three priests in the list are Azariah, Seraiah, Jehozadak who was the priest at the time of the exile (1 Chron. 5.41). It is possible to understand the rapid change of priests following Hilkiah in terms of the instability of the period. But clearly, the five generations of priests during Solomon’s time cannot be understood as communicating a sense of instability. This was a golden period from the perspective of the Chronicler. 47. See that the reference to marriage and children is directly, and unequivocally preceded in the narrative by ‫‘ ויתחזק‬and he grew mighty’, which in Chronicles in general and in this account in particular cannot be understood as pointing to a period before he became king (see 2 Chron. 1.1; 12.13; 17.1; 21.4; 27.6; 32.5; cf. 2 Chron. 11.1721). 48. Cf. Num. 1.45-46, according to which the number of male Israelites from 20 years old and upward was 603,550 and Num. 3.43, according to which the number of male first-borns from a month old and upward was 22,273. The point of the text may well be to convey a sense of astounding fertility among the Israelites, but neither the authorship nor intended readerships seem to be concerned with the logistical aspects, namely how many children (male and female) each mother was supposed to have. The issue is similar to the claim that the Israelite population grew from 70 people to close to two million in four generations. 49. I. Kalimi, ‘Literary-Chronological Proximity in the Chronicler’s Historiography’, VT 43 (1993), pp. 318-38. (Published in revised form in I. Kalimi, Ancient Israelite Historian.) 50. For the use of ‫‘ אחרי‬after’ in Chronicles in the sense of relatively close temporal proximity see 2 Chron. 22.4; 25.14, 25; and for the precise expression ‫אחרי כל זאת‬ used in the same manner see 2 Chron. 21.18. This expression does not occur elsewhere in the Hebrew Bible. 51. See, among others, Kalimi, ‘Literary-Chronological Proximity’, esp. pp. 323-28. 52. Ben Zvi, ‘When YHWH Tests People’. 53. For a well-known biblical case, see E. Ben Zvi, ‘Who Wrote the Speech of Rabshakeh and When?’, JBL 109 (1990), pp. 79-92. For studies on prophetic and related addresses in Chronicles, see, for instance, R. Mason, Preaching the Tradition (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990). For a treatment of the matter of prophetic speeches and ancient historiography as related to Chronicles, see K. Sparks, ‘Prophetic Speeches in Chronicles: Speculation, Revelation, and Ancient Historiography’, BBR 9 (1999), pp. 233-46. 54. Note esp. v. 3 ‫תוֹרה‬ ָ ‫מוֹרה וּלְ לֹא‬ ֶ ‫וּללֹא כּ ֵֹהן‬ ְ ‫ֹלהי ֱא ֶמת‬ ֵ ‫וְ יָ ִמים ַר ִבּים ְל ִי ְשׂ ָר ֵאל לְ לֹא ֱא‬ v. 5 ‫ל־יוֹשׁ ֵבי ָה ֲא ָרצוֹת‬ ְ ‫יּוֹצא וְ ַל ָבּא ִכּי ְמהוּמֹת ַרבּוֹת ַעל ָכּ‬ ֵ ‫וּב ִע ִתּים ָה ֵהם ֵאין ָשֹׁלום ַל‬ ָ and v. 6 ‫ל־צ ָרה‬ ָ ‫ֹלהים ֲה ָמ ָמם ְבּ ָכ‬ ִ ‫י־א‬ ֱ ‫גוֹי־בּגוֹי וְ ִעיר ְבּ ִעיר ִכּ‬ ְ ‫ וְ ֻכ ְתּתוּ‬v. 3 ‘For a long time Israel was without the true God, and without a teaching priest, and without law; v. 5 In those times it was not safe for anyone to go or come, for great disturbances afflicted all the inhabitants of the lands; v. 6 They were broken in pieces, nation against nation and city against city, for God troubled them with every sort of distress (NRSV). 55. Contrast, among others, with S.S. Tuell, First and Second Chronicles (Interpretation; Louisville, KY: John Knox Press, 2001), pp. 169-70.


73

56. Contrast with W. Johnstone, 1 and 2 Chronicles. II. 2 Chronicles 10-36. Guilt and Atonement (JSOTSup, 254; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997), pp. 65-66. 57. Cf., among others, Jer. 10.10; Hos. 3.4-5; 5.15-6.1; Amos 3.9; Zech. 8.10; Ps. 31.6. See Japhet, I and II Chronicles, pp. 717-21. 58. If these questions were not bracketed off, the primary readerships would have to conclude that Asa could not have understood the full meaning of the message of the prophet, and that YHWH intended the message to be only partially understood by Asa. Both propositions are very unlikely within the ideological world of the Chronicler. Of course, this is just one example of a relatively common feature in Chronicles. The second speech to Asa, for instance, includes a clear reference to Zech. 4.10 (and 1 Sam. 13.13). See 2 Chron. 16.9. 59. For instance, one may compare 2 Chron. 15.2 with 1 Chron. 28.9. In the latter, David instructs Solomon; in the former, the prophet Azariah instructs Asa. Both responded positively. Cf. Tuell, First and Second Chronicles, p. 169. 60. Cf. the discussion of ‘Azariah’s appeal to history’ in P. Beentejes, ‘Prophets in the Book of Chronicles’, in J.C. de Moor (ed.), The Elusive Prophet: The Prophet as a Historical Person, Literary Character and Anonymous Artist (OtSt, XLV; Leiden: E.J. Brill, 2001), pp. 45-53, esp. 49-52. 61. Cf. M.Z. Brettler, The Creation of History in Ancient Israel (London and New York: Routledge, 1995), p. 47. 62. Cf. Josephus’ references to sources, and in particular to the texts of documents to be found engraved on bronze tablets in the Capitol (Ant. 14.187-89, esp. 188; cf. Ant. 14.266). Incidentally, not only is it very unlikely that he accessed these documents, but in all likelihood he could not have done that, because of the fire of December 19, 69 CE. See, for instance, H.R. Moering, ‘The Acta pro Judaeis in the Antiquities of Flavius Josephus: A Study in Hellenistic and Modern Apologetic Historiography’, in J. Neusner (ed.), Christianity, Judaism and Other Greco-Roman Cults: Studies for Morton Smith at Sixty. Part Three Judaism before 70 (Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1975), pp. 124-58, esp. 131; on this and general matters associated with citations of documents in Josephus, see, among others, M. Pucci Ben-Zeev, Jewish Rights in the Roman World – The Greek and Roman Documents Quoted by Josephus Flavius (Tübingen: J.C.B. Mohr/Siebeck, 1998), pp. 381-408 and esp. 394-99; idem, ‘Josephus’ Ambiguities: His Comments on Cited Documents’, paper presented at the 2003 Josephus’ Seminar and available at http://josephus.yorku.ca/pdf/ben-zeev2003.pdf. 63. Of course, the same does not hold true for later harmonizers of these books. But certainly this is not the case from the perspective of the intended readers of Chronicles and their construction of the communicative intention of the Chronicler. 64. For instance, they most likely noticed the ideological significance of the fact that within the narrative world of the text, the announcement of the birth of Isaac (Genesis 18) and the birth itself (Genesis 21) are separated by the story of Sarah and Abraham in Gerar (Genesis 20). Moreover, it is obvious that this text here recalls that the story in Gen. 12.10-17, and the associated motif of the conceptual differentiation between Canaan and Egypt (note that Hagar is Egyptian). Certainly it brings forward the motif of the exceptionally beautiful endangered matriarch and the related motif of the, at least, powerless patriarch. It seems far more likely that the readership for which the

74


book of Genesis in its present form was composed understood the typological representation and its ideological significance and therefore considered the story to be true than they followed a narrowly defined mimetic reading strategy for Genesis 20 and accordingly centered around the supposed tension between the reported exceptional sexual desirability of Sarah and her very old age. 65. For additional examples in Chronicles see Kalimi, Reshaping of Ancient Israelite History, pp. 38-52. 66. It is worth noting that the tendency of ‘core facts’ agreed upon within a particular community to influence that which is/can be said/written is attested in numerous cultures, across time and place. The question is, of course, which is included and excluded by a particular community from their definition of core fact and the level of freedom that writers have on these matters. 67. On statements about regnal years as core facts see Chapter 7. I wrote extensively on the question of ‘core facts’ and limited malleability in ancient Israelite historiography. See, for instance, Chapter 4 and my essay, ‘Malleability and its Limits: Sennacherib’s Campaign against Judah as a Case Study’, in L.L. Grabbe (ed.), ‘Bird in a Cage’: The Invasion of Sennacherib in 701 BCE (JSOTSup, 363; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2003), pp. 73-105. 68. See Chapters 2 and 8. 69. To be sure, one may assume that had the book of Chronicles deviated from core facts in the community’s image of its past or with its general memory, the book would have been rejected by its primary readership. In fact, most likely it would not have been written at all, since the actual authors of the book were also members of that community who shared memories and its associated system of core facts about the past. 70. The account of Amaziah in 2 Chronicles 25 is one of the richest sources for understanding many of the ideological positions of the Chronicler and demands a separate discussion, which I plan to undertake soon. The discussion in this section is meant only to illustrate the explanatory value of the considerations advanced above. On the account of Amaziah in Chronicles see M.P. Graham, ‘Aspects of the Structure and Rhetoric of 2 Chronicles 25’, in M.P. Graham, J. Kuan, and W.P. Brown (eds.), History and Interpretation: Essays in Honor of John H. Hayes (JSOTSup, 173; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1993), pp. 78-89. 71. Neither the Chronicler nor the intended readership of the book seemed to have problems with what we would call the ethical aspects of that action. It is worth mentioning that centuries later Amaziah’s action was strongly condemned and considered to be a reason for the exile of Israel. See ‘at that time [when Amaziah killed the Edomite captives] the Holy One, blessed be He, said: “I decreed death upon the descendants of Noah only by the sword but these brought them unto the top of the Rock, and cast them down from the top of the Rock, that they all were broken in pieces”. “There will be no rest”: at that time the Holy One, blessed be He, said, “Since they acted thus, they shall go into exile”. Since they sinned, they were exiled…’ (LamR, Prologue 14; Soncino ET). Needless to say, the sages responsible for Lamentations Rabba held a view of the matter that is opposite to that of the Chronicler. Incidentally, the latter praises pious Asa and his people for commanding that any Israelite who does not seek YHWH be killed (2 Chron. 15.13).


75

72. On paronomasia in Chronicles see Kalimi, Ancient Israelite Historian, pp. 67-80. He explicitly refers to the case discussed above on p. 72. 2 Kgs 14.7 reports also that 10,000 enemy men were killed, but identifies them as Edomites. The pun on words, the nomen-omen perspective and the reference to the 10,000 captives appear only in Chronicles. The reference to ‘ten’ in Kings served most likely as a point of departure from which through sophisticated craftsmanship the Chronicler developed a text that carried literary and ideological messages. 73. It is worth noting that Chronicles omits the report in 2 Kgs 14.7 stating that ‫‘ ויקרא את־שמה יקתאל עד היום הזה‬he [Amaziah] called it [Sela] Joktheel [the name of Judahite town in Josh. 15.38] which is its name to this day’. In Chronicles, the city remains ‘Sela’. Further Chronicles transforms the report stating ‫ותפש את־הסלע‬ ‫‘ במלחמה‬he [Amaziah] took Sela by war’ into one describing the killing of the captives at Sela. 74. Cf. Jer. 49.16; Obad. 1.3; see Ben Zvi, Obadiah, pp. 53-61. 75. See also Ben Zvi, Obadiah, pp. 230-46 and esp. 232 n. 7. 76. It is worth noting that Josephus saw the problematic character of the reference to hiring the mercenaries without reference to the king of Israel and solved it by retelling the story with a reference to the king (see Ant. 9.188). For other motifs in Josephus’ retelling, and on his portrayal of Amaziah see C. Begg, ‘Amaziah, King of Judah According to Josephus’, Antonianum 70 (1995), pp. 3-30. To be sure, Chronicles, as usual, somewhat balances the picture. The narrative role of the hired troop becomes structurally similar to that of the King’s army later in the story (see below). Also v. 7 uses the ambiguous term ‫‘ צבא ישראל‬the army of/from Israel’. Yet the salient omission of a reference to the king in the relation to the hiring both in vv. 6 and 9 cannot but bear significance in the narrative. (In other cases in Chronicles help is hired from kings, see accounts of Asa and Ahaz.) 77. ‫ובני הגדוד אשר השיב אמציהו מלכת עמו למלחמה ויפשטו בערי יהודה משמרון‬

‫ועד־בית חורון ויכו מהם שלשת אלפים ויבזו בזה רבה‬ 78. See also 2 Chron. 16.10; 24.20-22. See Chapters 2 and 8. 79. The text was written to be read and reread. As the text is read in a way informed by the preceding verses, it carries a particular meaning. As it is read in a way that is informed by the following verses it carries another (see esp. v. 14 and see discussion below). In addition, the text was written so as to allow a third and complementary manner, according to which the very request for help from mercenaries is a sin, which is not removed by Amaziah’s later action of sending them away. In fact, within this reading the text here is reminiscent of that of 2 Chron. 28.16, 20. In both cases external help is sought, and not only that it does not help, but actually becomes an agent of destruction. (A number of additional links bind together the accounts of Amaziah and Ahaz). The three seemingly disparate meanings balance each other and convey and reflect a more sophisticated ideology than that of each reading alone. For this sense of balance and proportion in Chronicles see works cited in note above. 80. Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles, p. 330. 81. W. Rudolph, Chronikbücher (HAT: Tübingen: J.C.B. Mohr – Paul Siebeck, 1955), p. 279; idem, BHS. 82. None of the ancient versions read Migron here.

76


83. This geographical itinerary fits well with the possible historical background for the war between Amaziah and Joash advanced by Na’aman, according to whom Joash’s armies invaded and defeated Judah, because of Amaziah’s attempt to free Judah from Israel’s hegemonic control. See N. Na’aman ‘Historical Background’. It is worth stressing, however, that the (hi)story narrated in Chronicles, which is the text being discussed here, and the historical reconstruction advanced of the events by Na’aman – even if correct – belong to two different conceptual categories. 84. Na’aman refers to the Chronicler’s (for him, the actual author of the book) lack of knowledge of the geographical realities of the monarchic period. See, N. Na’aman, ‫( הרקע ההיסטורי לפרשת המלחמה בין אמציה ליהואש‬English title: ‘The Historical Background of the Account of the War between Amaziah and Jehoash’), Shnaton 9 (1987), pp. 211-17, esp. 214. 85. As I demonstrated elsewhere, the principle that Judah cannot take the territories of the North by force, except for borderline areas which were included in Yehud and were considered part of monarchic Judah (e.g., Bethel), is of major importance in the book of Chronicles. See Chapter 6. The area of Beth-horon if included in Yehud was by its northern borders. Significantly, here again Josephus deviates from the account in Chronicles. According to him the Israelite troop advanced as far as Bethsemera. The latter may be a conflation of Beth-horon and Samaria or a reference to Beth-shemesh (cf. 2 Chron. 25.21, 23). See Begg, ‘Amaziah’, p. 13 n. 39. In any event, it is worth stressing that Josephus’ version avoids the problematic reference to ‘from Beth-horon to Samaria’, just as he avoids the problematic lack of reference to the king of Israel in the episode of the hiring. The Chronicler, of course, does not avoid them. On the contrary, he makes them important elements of the historical narrative. 86. See O. Lipschits, The Fall and Rise of Jerusalem (Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2005), pp. 139-40, 148, 373. 87. Johnstone, 1 and 2 Chronicles, II, p. 157 88. Japhet, I and II Chronicles, p. 865. 89. See, Na’aman, ‘Historical Background’, among many others. 90. Judah’s conquest of the main territory of the northern kingdom as far as Samaria would have been contrary to central aspects of the ideology of the book of Chronicles. See Chapter 6. 91. Or a reality believed to have existed in the ninth century. 92. 2 Chron. 35.20-22. 93. Note the Chronicler’s choice of words: ‫ ויחר אפם מאד ביהודה‬and ‫חרי־אף‬ (‘they became enraged with Judah’ and ‘in fierce rage’) in v. 10 refer to the mercenary band and cf. ‫( ויחר־אף יהוה באמציהו‬YHWH became enraged angry with Amaziahu) in v. 15. 94. Amaziah must have taken the crucial decision to carry off the gods of Edom before he came to Jerusalem. 95. Contrast them with those of Ahaz, which are presented as reasonable within the logic of a particular viewpoint. I discussed the matter elsewhere, see Chapter 11. 96. See the words the Chronicler places in the mouth of the prophet, as soon as he learned that the king has rejected his words ‘I know that God has decided to destroy


77

you, because you have done this and have not listened to my counsel’ ‫ידעתי כי־יעץ‬ ‫( אלהים להשחיתך כי־עשית זאת ולא שמעת לעצתי‬2 Chron. 25.16). 97. I have discussed the matter at length in Chapter 6. 98. E.g., did a heavy yoke on the tribes of Israel exist or not exist during Solomonic times? See work cited in note above. 99. E. Ben Zvi, ‘General Observations on Ancient Israelite Histories in their Ancient Contexts’, in L.L. Grabbe (ed.), Enquire of the Former Age: Ancient Historiography and Writing in the History of Ancient Israel (London/New York: T&T Clark, forthcoming). 100. Cf. with the ways in which the narratives about Jesus in the gospels were considered to be true. 101. Cf. M.J. Wheeldon, ‘True Stories: The Reception of Historiography in Antiquity’, in A. Cameron (ed.), History as Text: The Writing of Ancient History (London: Gerald Duckworth, 1989), pp. 36-63 and see esp. the introductory words in pp. 3336. In fact, one of the advantages of the approach advanced here is that it brings together multiple observations about Chronicles that are often studied separately. As such it creates a framework in which these observations and their implications inform each other and together advance a better understanding of the work as a whole. 102. I discussed this matter in Ben Zvi, ‘General Observations’. 103. My thanks to my former student Ken Ristau, whom I may have failed to convince of all of the arguments advanced here, but whose praiseworthy ‘resistance’ helped me to sharpen my case.

Chapter 4 SHIFTING THE GAZE: HISTORIOGRAPHIC CONSTRAINTS IN CHRONICLES AND THEIR IMPLICATIONS*

1. Introduction Much has been written about the ability of historians to shape constructions of the past according to their own worldviews, theologies or ideologies, and on the influence of social location on historiography. In fact, there is abundant proof that the ancient historians responsible for such books as Kings and Chronicles could mould their accounts to serve particular theological, ideological, literary and rhetorical purposes.1 To be sure, the same holds true for most histories. Such a situation is to be expected, since theological/ideological (hereafter, theological) frames and considerations influence the significance ascribed to events in the past.2 Moreover, the articulation of the significance of an historical event requires that the event be set within a comprehensive historical narrative3 that most often includes the historical causes and effects of the event, and at times, even alternative paths that were open to the historical agents but not chosen by the historical agents. In other words, events as understood and construed within a larger narrative (or meta-narrative), rather than ‘the events per se’, are the bearers of social and theological significance in accounts of the past. Significantly, the (implied) author of Chronicles (hereafter, ‘the Chronicler’)4 was mainly interested in constructing and communicating the social and theological significance of the Israel’s history (or the portion of it covered in Chronicles; on this matter, see below). The Chronicler constructed and communicated meaning through the creation of a historical narrative that included numerous accounts of past events, shaped so as to convey a particular significance. The Chronicler used sources, imitated them5 and substantially deviated from them, as it is abundantly attested. In fact, today almost every serious commentary on Chronicles addresses at length these deviations and explains the literary and theological issues. There is still much to be learned from this research perspective.

4. Shifting the Gaze

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Recently, however, I became more interested in ‘lack of deviation’, or, in other words, on which ‘historiographic facts’ the Chronicler accepted or had to accept as a given. Which facts6 could the Chronicler not deny, even if they were theologically or rhetorically problematic from the viewpoint of Chronicles? And why these facts, but not others? In more general terms, I became more interested in the question of limits of historiographic malleability in ancient Israel. I am convinced that an examination of these limits is likely to shed much light on the social context and the related discursive constraints within which the writing of Israelite history in the Persian period, when Chronicles was written, took place.7 Moreover, this type of studies contributes substantially to our knowledge of the ‘facts’ about Israel’s past that were shared by the community at the time, or at least among its literati. This understanding permits a clearer view of their world of knowledge.8 Thus, in a recent article, I built on the observation that chronological data in Kings – related to the length of reign and the age at ascension to the throne – is maintained in Chronicles, even when it is difficult in itself, and I dealt with what follows from this observation about the constructions of time advanced in Chronicles, as well as about the Chronicler’s use of sources.9 In addition, in August 2000, I presented a paper entitled ‘Malleability and its Limits: Sennacherib’s Campaign against Judah as a Case Study’, before the European Seminar for Historical Methodology.10 In this paper I addressed the issue of malleability and its limits in different ancient histories – including Chronicles – from the perspective of a particular case-study. The present contribution continues my exploration of these issues but differs from the earlier works by focusing on the book of Chronicles as a whole. To be sure, a fully comprehensive, case-by-case study of malleability and its limits in Chronicles would exceed the limits of this paper. Therefore, the present study will concentrate on a set of diverse and paradigmatic cases, and then on the implications that arise from this set. It is worth stressing at this point that due to the goal of this study, the approach to the selected texts should bear the imprint of a kind of reverse critical gaze, that is, the main focus must be on the historical data taken from the Chronicler’s sources that has not undergone a substantial change in Chronicles. This is the opposite of what we often do when we study Chronicles. Further, since this essay deals with the construction(s) of the past advanced by Chronicles, what has to be studied is the extant book, that is, a narrative that reports and shapes an image of past events. In fact, there is no real choice in that matter. The intended rereaders11 were not

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asked to take more seriously or view as more authoritative the non-parallel than the parallel accounts, and certainly not to dismiss the latter. The (hi)story told in the Chronicles not only encompasses both types of account but also interweaves them into one single narrative and by doing so it denies their separate existence. The ‘voice’ of the implied author resonates in both types of account equally. So if the implied author is referred to as ‘the Chronicler’, as is the case here, the Chronicler’s voice also carries both types of account equally. In sum, studies of the historical narrative stated in Chronicles, the world it construes, and its reception by the intended and primary rereadership must deal with the entire text, without making differences between parallel and non-parallel texts – which are in fact scholarly constructions. If the type of research envisaged here is to be successful, the selection of study cases must be carried out carefully. It is imperative that the focus be on issues that were central to the discourse of the period, rather than on some assorted marginalia that cover minor points of agreement between the book of Chronicles and its sources. Not much is at stake in marginal details, and therefore reverberations or direct citations from sources may be explained in terms of the simple practicalities of composing a text on the basis of written sources.12 Taking these considerations into account, the following cases were selected for this paper: (a) basic genealogies and the sense of identity they create, (b) the king of Judah and the construction of the monarchic past in terms of regnal periods by Davidic kings, (c) the existence, presence and leadership of northern Israel, (d) major events in Judahite13 monarchic history (such as the conquest of Jerusalem, the building of the temple, the division of the kingdom, Jerusalem’s salvation in Sennacherib’s times and its destruction in Zedekiah’s), and (e) and the motifs of exodus and exile. 2. Shifting the Gaze: Some Considerations on Selected Issues 2.1. Some Observations about Genealogies Genealogies occupy the first nine chapters of Chronicles. They construct a world within which Israel – with whom the rereaders of the book identify – finds its place, indeed a central place.14 Later, they organize Israel according to tribes, families and, above all, leading families of national and even cosmic importance, due to the role of Jerusalem and its temple in the ‘cosmic’ sphere (e.g., the Davides, the priests).15 To be sure, the genealogical sequences in Chronicles are not presented for their own sake, but for their ability to convey and shape a particular


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ideology (or theology). One may notice, for instance, the powerful rhetoric of a presentation in which the entire human genealogy quickly narrows to the line that leads to Israel, for a moment rests on those most closely related to Israel, that is his only brother Esau (1 Chron. 1.35-54) and then to Israel itself. While one chapter is allocated to all the nations outside Israel, there are eight assigned to Israel. Such a theological construction of the world map reflects and shapes a conception about the centrality of Israel.16 It also affects the way in which the genealogies are treated. For instance, it creates a strong incentive to ‘streamline’ through omission in 1 Chron. 1.1-26.17 At other points, however, the Chronicler may add or rearrange information in such a manner that subtly communicates a particular theological position. A typical example is Chronicles’ opposition to the view expressed in Ezra-Nehemiah regarding marriage with non-Israelites and ‘ethnic purity’.18 In all these cases, it is evident that the narrative in which particular genealogical data are mentioned strongly contributes to the ability of the data to communicate desired significance to the rereadership of the book. Thus, the significance of the data, and at points, the data itself seem malleable. Indeed there are numerous differences between the genealogical lists in 1 Chronicles 1-9 and those in its sources.19 But it is also worth emphasizing that at all the crucial points for Israel’s identity and for the construction of its place in the world, the Chronicler follows tradition. Thus, Adam, Seth, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and others all appear at their expected places. In fact, Chronicles communicates the same basic construction of identity in terms of general humanity (see the main signposts, i.e., Adam, Seth, Noah) and of Israel and its neighbors that is developed in the patriarchal narratives. Even the concept of ten generations between Adam and Noah and between Shem and Abraham is maintained. Similarly, Saul remains a Benjaminite, and all the kings of Judah are Davides, to mention only two obvious examples. The question is why one does not find in Chronicles that Jacob or Israel20 is Abraham’s son, or that humanity did not begin with Adam;21 or for that matter that Ishmael, rather than Esau, is Israel’s brother? The most likely answer to this question is that such claims would have contradicted some known ‘facts’ (hereafter, facts) agreed upon by the community within which the book was composed and first read and reread (i.e., ‘consumed’ as theological, cultural artifact). Yet there were facts and facts. Not all facts were equal. If one assumes, as it is most likely, that this community’s world of knowledge included the book of Genesis, other pentateuchal books and those included in the collection of books usually

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called the deuteronomistic history, then it is clear that the Chronicler could and did omit, and even contradict, some of the facts mentioned there. It seems, therefore, that a distinction was drawn between ‘core facts’ that cannot be challenged and all other facts, within the community within which Chronicles was composed and read. Sure, genealogical changes or shifts were possible within the community’s discourse, but outside the core. The central genealogical elements that bear the main narrative of Israel about itself stood already beyond the limits of historical malleability. In fact, it is because Chronicles shares so much with the accepted genealogical story of Israel about itself that it is able to persuade at least some of its rereadership to accept or entertain the changes advanced in the text. The Chronicler may subtly attempt to reduce the status of a given fact by omitting or contradicting it, or may advance a particular theological agenda, such as opposition to social and theological streams that come to the forefront in Ezra–Nehemiah (see above). All in all it seems that Chronicles’ ability to persuade the rereadership to consider change required the Chronicler not to alter or contradict any of the central pillars of the main genealogical (meta)narrative that provided a sense of self-identification to Israel.22 One may go even further and ask how likely it is for such a society of Israel (Jerusalem centered, Achaemenid period Yehud) to raise a successful historian who would even wish to deny these accepted facts? 2.2. Some Observations on the Kings of Judah Chronicles imitates the regnal accounts in Kings, but as it is well known, it also deviates from them on numerous occasions and for a number of reasons. It is worth emphasizing, however, that Chronicles does not propose a different list of kings of Judah. Chronicles reports the same kings and in the same sequence as Samuel and Kings.23 This is particularly noteworthy, since this does not hold true for positions of authority and legitimacy other than kings in monarchic Judah. For instance, the list of prophets mentioned in Chronicles includes many who do not appear elsewhere, and at least some are likely to be created in and shaped by the book of Chronicles. In addition, not only does the book of Chronicles include high priests who were not mentioned in Kings and Samuel, but it also presents a list of high priests that communicates a sense of temporal expansions and contractions according to theological and rhetorical concerns.24 The Chronicler and the intended (and primary) rereaders of the Chronicles could imagine, communicate and accept a past of Israel populated by characters (including a priestly elite) unknown from other sources, but there were limits to


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such freedom. The composition of the regnal list itself was not an open issue. It seems that within the discourse of the period any construction of the past had to include the same list of Judahite kings advanced in the book of Kings.25 There was room for historiographic innovation, but there were limits to that innovation too. Moreover, the book of Chronicles is only rarely completely consistent,26 but it is so in relation to the composition of the list of kings and also regarding the length of the regnal periods (and the age of the king at ascension). Chronicles does not deviate from the Masoretic Text of Kings on those issues,27 no matter how much it deviates and even contradicts the report in Kings about a particular monarch, and no matter the theological difficulties that maintaining the length of regnal periods may involve.28 Elsewhere I developed the idea that inflexibility in this matter is deeply associated with a particular construction of sequential time in Chronicles and with the (implicit or explicit) notion of the king as a marker of social and cosmic time. The latter, of course, reflects and communicates a very high status for the Davidic king.29 Since the Chronicler was able to change much from the received sources in relation to other aspects of the regnal accounts, it seems that from the perspective of the Chronicler there were some ‘core facts’ agreed upon by the community and expressed in the book of Kings about regnal accounts that were beyond malleability. Other facts about them were malleable. 2.3. Some Considerations on the Northern Kingdom30 The division of the kingdom was one of the main events in the narrative of Israel’s monarchic past in Yehud and among the literati elite within which Chronicles was composed. According to their story about themselves, the consequences of such a critical event were never erased. Hope for change was left to a distant, utopian future. As it is well known, Chronicles never grants legitimacy to the northern kingdom. This attitude also affects the way in which it construes the historical background of the split of the united monarchy – which is somewhat different from the one advanced in Kings. Still, it is important to stress that Chronicles neither denies the division of David’s and Solomon’s kingdom nor locates it in a different time period than does Kings. According to Chronicles, it happened just after the death of Solomon and at the beginning of the reign of Rehoboam. Surely, Chronicles shapes the details of the event to convey a particular meaning,31 but the basic ‘data’ associated with the event such as the matter at stake (i.e., the division of the kingdom), the main characters involved, and the temporal reference, do not seem to be changeable.

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Chronicles refers to the northern kingdom as Israel – as was the case in the discourse of the period. To be sure, this way of naming the northern kingdom leads to a situation in which two contemporaneous polities were referred to as ‘Israel’. The use of the term Israel for pointing to the northern kingdom in opposition to or as separate from Judah is found in numerous cases in Chronicles (e.g., 2 Chron. 13.12, 15-18; 16.1-4; 17.4; 18 passim; 20.35; 21.6), but the term ‘Israel’ is also used in the book to refer to Judah, the only theologically legitimate polity of Israel during the post-Solomonic monarchic period from the viewpoint of Chronicles (see 2 Chron. 12.5; 17.1; 20.29, 34; 21.2). In fact, the double meaning of Israel (i.e., as referring to two different polities) comes to the forefront in passages in which the two meanings appear in close textual proximity (see 2 Chron. 20.29, 34, 35; 21.2, 6). This situation, of course, calls attention to the question of which polity ought to be considered Israel, which is important in Chronicles’ theology and reconstruction of the monarchic period.32 In addition, in Chronicles – as in the general discourse of the period – the term ‘Israel’ points to the theological concept of Israel as YHWH’s people and as a people with a particular past and commandments to follow.33 In sum, also in Chronicles the term ‘Israel’ creates an ongoing ambiguity or, better, potential or actual polyvalence that helps to construct the identity of the intended rereadership, which is also Israel.34 Chronicles does not deviate from the discourse of its time in this regard.35 In fact, this potential polyvalence is a theological, literary and meta-narrative necessity at some points in the Chronicler’s narrative (see discussion on 1 Chron. 1.9 below). To be sure, Chronicles removes anything that might suggest that the northern kingdom as a polity is or was equal or even comparable to Judah in theological (or ideological) terms. Chronicles does not recognize the northern kings as legitimate kings of Israel, or their polity as YHWH’s kingdom and house (contrast 2 Chron. 17.14). The removal of the reports about the northern kings in Chronicles – which in Kings suggest that the two kingdoms are at least potentially comparable – and the lack of explicit temporal synchronisms between the Judahite and Israelite kings (except in 2 Chron. 13.1) indicate that the kingdoms of Judah and Israel are not similar from YHWH’s perspective – and should not be from that of the Chronicler or the subsequent rereaders. In all this, Chronicles clearly deviates from the source being imitated, namely Kings. Still it is important to emphasize that Chronicles explicitly recognized the kings of (northern) Israel as kings (see, e.g., 2 Chron. 16.1, 3; 18.3). Moreover, although not all the kings of Israel are cited,36 those who are mentioned in the narrative appear at their proper times, as the latter are


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reported in the book of Kings. So Jeroboam is contemporary with Rehoboam and Abijah, Asa with Baasha, Ahab and Ahaziah with Jehoshaphat, Jehoram and Jehu with Ahaziahu,37 Jehoash with Amaziahu, and Pekah with Ahaz. Further, notwithstanding the numerous differences in detail and the significance of the accounts for the message of Chronicles, the basic outline of the political interactions between the kings of Judah and Israel are consistent with the world described in Kings.38 Moreover, although Chronicles does not reproduce the regnal accounts about the kings of Israel that appear in the book of Kings, their presence is felt in Chronicles. To illustrate this, the account of Rehoboam’s building activities served as a/the (theologically proper) response to the report about Jeroboam’s building activities in 1 Kgs 12.2539 and implies an authorship and rereadership of Chronicles that is aware of the latter. Significantly, although Chronicles does not mention Jeroboam’s building activities, it also does not deny the veracity of the account in Kings either. Instead it deals with the resulting theological dissonance by advancing a report about the far larger building activities of Rehoboam, the legitimate king. Similarly, the exile of northern tribes under Tiglath-pileser III is not mentioned in a place parallel to that in Kings, nor could have been within the literary/theological frame governing the organization of Chronicles. But such an exile is certainly part and parcel of the historical awareness of the Chronicler and of the rereadership of Chronicles, as 1 Chron. 5.25-26 demonstrates. This historical awareness reflects the acceptance of a set of facts about the past agreed upon by the community within which the authorship and rereadership of Chronicles emerged. In sum, the Chronicler could and did change details, omit references to some known facts about the northern kingdom, and certainly shapes the significance of those mentioned in Chronicles. At the same time there was a set of core facts about the northern kingdom that was agreed upon within the community/ies in which and for which Chronicles was written. Chronicles not only does not contradict these agreed upon facts, but also, at times, clearly assumes them. 2.4. Some Considerations on Major events in Judahite Monarchic History Undoubtedly an important component of the memory of the monarchic past was the conquest of Jerusalem. Although the details of the conquest in Chronicles are different from those in 2 Samuel,40 the basic outline is similar. In both cases, David marched against the Jebusite city, overcame its resistance, and then rebuilt or repaired it after his conquest. The stronghold of the city is named ‘the city of David’, and David’s name became

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greater and greater, for YHWH the Lord of Hosts was with him. Whereas there was some flexibility with the details of the story, the basic outline reflects what seems to be a set of facts agreed upon by the community, which were not malleable.41 Another major event in the memory of Israel as construed in Yehud was the construction of the (first) temple. Although Chronicles does almost anything possible to lionize the figure of David and to construe him as the true founder of the temple,42 it clearly maintains that Solomon was the actual builder. In addition, Hiram/Huram remains an important secondary character in the story. Further, the description of the dedication of the temple and the report about Solomon’s prayer point again at a corpus of facts agreed upon in Yehud. To be sure, there is abundant evidence that minor changes in the recounting of the events associated with the building of the temple were allowed – any comparison between the texts immediately shows them – but just as compelling is the evidence that there was a set of core facts from which deviance was impossible.43 The same can be said of many other events in Judah’s history. For instance, there is much variation between the Chronicler’s account of Sennacherib’s confrontation with Hezekiah and the one reported in the book of Kings.44 The significance of the story is substantially different.45 However, the core facts are shared: there was an Assyrian campaign, the main characters remain the same, and the result of the campaign is identical. Significantly, the same can be said about the main outline of another crucial event: the destruction of Jerusalem in Zedekiah’s time. These examples can be multiplied. Whereas the Chronicler could shape the stories of the past of monarchic Judah to a point and construe the significance of events in new ways, the Chronicler did not – and could not – deviate from the basic narrative outline and the basic set of core facts that appeared in the books of Samuel and Kings. Although, it is important to notice that Chronicles shows theologically motivated omissions, emendations, additions, explanations and the like, it is as important to notice and emphasize that also here a set of core facts and outlines seemed to stand beyond malleability. 2.5. Some Observations on ‘Missing’ Periods in the Israelite Story of their Own Past, on Exodus, Exile, and ‘Empty Land’ S. Japhet wrote, ‘Chronicles presents a different view of history: the dimensions of the Babylonian conquest and exile are reduced considerably, the people’s settlement in the land is portrayed as an uninterrupted continuum, and, in the same way, the constitutive force of the exodus from Egypt


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is eliminated. Chronicles simply omits the entire historical context – slavery, exodus, and conquest.’46 These words had an important impact on the study of Chronicles. From the perspective of the endeavor taken up in this paper, several relevant questions may be raised. Were the intended and primary rereaders of Chronicles supposed to construe their past as one characterized by an uninterrupted settlement in the land? And if so, had Sinai – which is to say, outside the land – no role to play in such a historical reconstruction? Turning to less theologically charged issues, but still significant for the construction of the past of the rereadership, does it follow from the fact that the main narrative about the story of the people in the land begins with the death of Saul and the rise of David that the intended and primary rereaders were supposed to construe their past without Joshua, the conqueror of the land, or for that matter without Samuel, since the story of his leadership as reported in 1 Samuel is not included in Chronicles? Several pieces of information are worth considering as one begins to assess these questions.47 There is only one reference to Joshua the son of Non in Chronicles (1 Chron. 7.27), but one must keep in mind that there is only one too in the text that Chronicles imitates the most, namely Samuel–Kings (1 Kgs 16.34). The reference to Joshua in 1 Chron. 7.27 is at the conclusion of the genealogy of Ephraim. It suggests the presence of a teleological perspective or awareness in this genealogy. Further, S. Japhet correctly observed ‘the pedigree of Joshua the son of Non resembles that of David in I Chron. 2.10-15, except that the formula is “X, Y his son”, rather than “X begot Y” ’.48 This being so, it is unlikely that the community of rereaders of Chronicles construed (a) the Chronicler as one who was unaware of Joshua’s role in Israelite history,49 and (b) a history in which Joshua had no role. In fact, it is very unlikely that the intended and primary rereaders thought that they were asked by the Chronicler to construe a picture of its past that did not include Joshua. The reason for the absence of a direct reference to Joshua’s exploits in Chronicles must, therefore, be found elsewhere. It would suffice at this point to state that this paper will maintain that it has to do with the thematic structure of Chronicles. Similarly, the story of Samuel’s leadership in 1 Samuel is also absent in Chronicles. There is no parallel to that story, just as there is no parallel to Joshua’s narrative. Does it mean that the Chronicler was construed as being unaware of Samuel or that the rereadership of Chronicles was supposed to be persuaded that there was no such character or that he was essentially irrelevant? The answer to both questions is unequivocal and negative. To begin with, Samuel is referred to in 1 Chron. 6.28, 33. Here the genealogy of

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Samuel is attached to that of Kohath. The addition results in a genealogy that is much longer than those of Gershom and Merari. As mentioned above, genealogical time expands for important periods in Chronicles and contracts for the less significant (see §2.2). In any case, the genealogy provides the required Levitical pedigree for Samuel, and it is based on the texts 1 Sam 1.1 and 1 Sam. 8.2.50 Samuel, the seer, is also mentioned in 1 Chron. 9.22, along with David, as those who established the gatekeepers in their offices. Samuel appears as the prophetic (primary) recipient of YHWH’s word regarding David’s anointing (see 1 Chron. 11.3), which is a major event in history from the Chronicler’s perspective. Samuel is mentioned also in relation to Saul, Abner and Joab in 1 Chron. 26.28. In 2 Chron. 35.18 he is characterized not only as a prophet but also as a leader of Israel. Finally, there is a reference to Samuel also in 1 Chron. 29.29, which characterizes him as a seer and writer and sets him in the time of David. The case of Samuel illustrates the need for caution in reaching conclusions from the non-appearance of a story where one would expect it to be, if the Chronicler had been under full obligation to follow the so-called deuteronomistic history in all its main narratives. The non-appearance of a narrative may be due to many different factors. The study of the understanding(s) of the text within the milieu of its primary and intended rereadership demands consideration of its world of knowledge, discourse and the expectations that the text assumes from its intended rereaders. It is worth stressing the role that one’s implied expectations may play in discerning the significance of lack of reference to a character or to his or her story. The case of Samuel in the book of Kings is helpful in this regard. Samuel is not mentioned (at least explicitly) anywhere in the books of Kings. To the best of my knowledge, no one concluded from this simple observation that the rereaders of Kings were supposed to be persuaded by the book that there was no Samuel, or that if there was such a character he played no substantial role in the history of Israel. No one, to the best of my knowledge, suggested that such was the intention of the author of Kings. The reason for the absence of these proposals is clear: there was no expectation for the presence of explicit references to Samuel in Kings. Although the name or memory of Samuel could have been mentioned in Kings, this was not necessary. The absence of references to him is explained – if noticed at all – in terms of the thematic structure of 1 Kings. There was no necessity to mention him to advance the book’s narrative and theological claims. It is assumed that the primary rereadership did not require the explicit mention of Samuel, and that both the author of Kings and the rereadership were well aware of him.


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In sum, the absence of references to a figure or event in the world of knowledge of a community does not necessarily mean denial or even a desire to downgrade such a figure or event. If this holds true for absence of references, then how much more so for the lower profile that some persons or events assume in the narrative. With these considerations in mind, we may turn to the geographical and theologically charged term ‘Sinai’. The word Sinai does not appear in Chronicles, but a keen observer would recognize that it rarely appears outside the Pentateuch (Judg. 5.5; Neh. 9.13 and Ps. 68.9, 18). Also, there is only one reference to Horeb in Chronicles (2 Chron. 5.10), but again the term ‘Horeb’ seldom appears outside the Pentateuch.51 Yet the text in which it does occur in Chronicles is most instructive. It contains an explicit reference to the two tables that Moses placed in the ark at Horeb, when YHWH made a covenant with the children of Israel on their way out of Egypt. It is self-evident that such a text assumes a rereadership familiar with Moses, and whose reconstruction of history includes the covenant at Horeb and the exodus from Egypt. In fact, the text not only utilizes such knowledge for rhetorical purposes – the legitimization of the ark and of Solomon’s activities – but also reaffirms it. The narrator’s reference to these matters in 2 Chron. 5.10 is further supported by the text of the quotation from YHWH’s promise that the Chronicler places in Solomon’s mouth.52 It contains the phrase ‘since the day I brought my people out of the land of Egypt’ (2 Chron. 6.5). The text directly evokes the exodus narrative, along with its main human character (i.e., Moses) and the associated theophanies. References to the exodus also appear in 1 Chron. 17.21 and 2 Chron. 7.22 (and cf. 1 Chron. 17.15). References to Moses are not rare at all in Chronicles,53 despite the fact that there is no account of the exodus or of the Sinai/Horeb event in the place that one would assume it to be, had the Chronicler been obliged or desired to follow the main story line of the Primary History in all its main subnarratives. Moses is mentioned in 1 Chron. 6.34; 15.15; 21.29; 22.13; 23.15; 26.24; 2 Chron. 1.3; 5.10; 8.13; 23.18; 24.6, 9; 25.4; 30.16; 33.8; 34.14; 35.6, 12. He is explicitly associated with the exodus and the Horeb covenant (2 Chron. 5.10), Israel’s stay in the wilderness (‫ ;במדבר‬1 Chron. 21.29; 2 Chron. 24.9), the ‘Tent of Meeting’ (‫ ;אהל מועד‬2 Chron. 1.3), the tabernacle (1 Chron. 21.29), Aaron and implicitly with Israel’s worship in the wilderness (1 Chron. 6.34), the cultic regulations for the three main festivals (2 Chron. 8.13) and, of course, with Torah or the book of Torah or the word of YHWH in his hand (2 Chron. 23.18; 25.4; 30.16; 33.8; 34.14; 35.6, 12). There is nothing surprising about these references. Moses, and

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all the mentioned themes associated with him, had a prominent place in the world of knowledge and discourse of the society within which and for which Chronicles was composed. Moreover, Chronicles assumes and interprets many of the instructions and laws in the Pentateuch, especially those regarding the cult.54 In fact, at times Chronicles attempts to harmonize them.55 In any event, such a process of interpretation and harmonization assumes the authority of the texts that are interpreted and harmonized. But if Pentateuchal texts (and particularly Exodus-Deuteronomy) are important for the theology of Chronicles – as indeed they are56 – then how can one expect the Chronicler or the literati for whom the book of Chronicles was primarily written57 to be dismissive (or ignorant) of the main claims of these texts about Moses, the exodus, Sinai/Horeb, the covenant or the stay in the wilderness? Within this social, theological and historical context it is certain that the Chronicler was construed by the intended and primary rereadership of the book as one who is aware of core facts associated with these events in the Pentateuch and in much of biblical literature, in which allusions to them are abundant. In this regard, the Chronicler was not imagined different from the rereadership at all.58 Turning to the question of ‘the exile’. It is obviously true that the book conveys a clear sense that the exile is temporally limited (see 2 Chron. 36.21) and that this limitation reflects and reaffirms Israel’s authoritative literature (as interpreted by Chronicles).59 It is also true that the book looks beyond the exile and that it even begins to construe time in a new manner for an Israel (Yehud) in which there are no kings of Judah (see below). Yet it does not follow from any of these considerations that the exile is negated – nor, for that matter, the constitutive myth of the community in Yehud, namely the one about exilic Israel returning to an empty land to rebuild the temple when Persia ruled. The (Babylonian) exile is explicitly mentioned in Chronicles as 1 Chron. 9.1 and 2 Chron. 36.11-20, and at the expected time, during the expected reign. The exile of Judah was not only total in Chronicles (see 2 Chron. 36.20) but had to be total since according to Chronicles the land had to be desolate for 70 years to fulfill its sabbaths (following the Chronicler’s understanding and harmonization of Lev. 26.34-35, 43 and Jer. 25.11-12; 29.10).60 If the land was desolate and uninhabited, then any community settling in the land after Zedekiah must come from outside the land. The text makes clear that such a community emerged from the Judeans exiled to Babylonia (2 Chron. 36.20-23). Such an understanding is consistent with


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numerous postmonarchic texts and has important implications concerning the concept of Israel.61 As mentioned above (§2.3), at times the potential polyvalence of the term Israel turned into a theological, literary and meta-narrative necessity. The best example of this case in Chronicles is directly relevant to the issue of exile. 1 Chronicles 1.9 states first that ‘all Israel was enrolled by genealogies’. Obviously, the Chronicler could not have used ‘Judah’ to refer to all the tribes and groups whose genealogies precede the verse in the book. Although the signifier remains ‘Israel’ and so textual cohesion is maintained, the signified (i.e., the referent of Israel) changes in the next clause in the same verse, for it reads ‘all Israel was enrolled by genealogies and these were written in the Book of the Kings of Israel’. The same book is mentioned in 2 Chron. 20.34 and 2 Chron. 33.18. Since the kings referred to are the kings of Judah, and since one of them (Manasseh) reigned after the destruction of the northern kingdom, it is clear that the referent of the word ‘Israel’ in these verses is not the northern, but rather the southern kingdom, namely, Judah. Moreover, even without the other references to the book, it is extremely unlikely that the Chronicler would have claimed that the best (only?) source for the genealogies of all Israel is the book that reports the deeds of the kings of the northern kingdom. It is much more likely that kings mentioned in 1 Chron. 1.9 are the kings of Judah, and that since their kingdom is the only legitimate polity of Israel, it was called ‘Israel’ (cf. 2 Chron. 12.5; 17.1; 20.29, 34; 21.2). Textual cohesion and metanarrative cohesion are maintained by a subtle shift from ‘Israel’ as the whole of the tribes to ‘Israel’ as a theologically viewed kingdom, namely Judah in practical terms. This subtle shift is necessary for maintaining the textual and theological cohesion of the entire verse, which as a whole reads, ‘all Israel was enrolled by genealogies and these were written in the Book of the Kings of Israel. But Judah [i.e., the “Israel” whose kings were noted in the previous clause] was taken into exile because of their unfaithfulness.’ Significantly, the text then moves to a description of new community of Israel formed by the returning exiles (1 Chron. 9.2-38) in Judah (= Yehud).62 Whereas there are historiographical and theological reasons that probably required that Chronicles end with the reference to Cyrus’ words about the rebuilding of the temple in Jerusalem, they do not necessarily apply to the genealogies. Here, the Chronicler could complete the presentation of Israel by pointing to the new, postmonarchic, Persian period community or commonwealth of Israel (1 Chronicles 9) centered on Jerusalem and its temple.63

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Further, Chronicles not only looks beyond the exile, but it also considers it to be a turning point: it is at this point of destruction and exile that the sequential time – so consistently construed in regnal terms – ceases. Significantly, it is replaced in the book with a construction of time in terms of a textual centeredness, with an emphasis on the coherence, consistency and legitimacy of the authoritative texts on the one hand and astronomic or cosmic data on the other.64 In sum, it is not only that Chronicles does not deny the exile, but also that the motif of the exile and much of its mythical and theological roles in the discourse of Persian-period Yehud are still present in Chronicles, even if they are not salient in the narrative.65 3. Conclusions 3.1. On the Reason for ‘Missing’ Accounts or for Slight References to Them As mentioned above, the exile and return were not highlighted in Chronicles. Similarly, anyone who reads Chronicles against the background of the Primary History immediately recognizes that there are no parallels in Chronicles to many important stories (e.g., exodus, Sinai) and descriptions of entire periods (e.g., Judges, Samuel) in the Primary History. It has been shown again and again that these supposed ‘lacks’ should not be construed as evidence for a denial or for an implied request to dismiss or devaluate the periods that are not mentioned, nor their main figures. In fact, these precise figures (e.g., Moses) may be found to hold a central position in the Chronicles’ theology. The Chronicler’s choice not to describe these events or periods – nor even to refer to them in significant ways66 – is better explained in terms of the Chronicler’s design for the book. Chronicles sets Israel among the nations and structures in genealogical lines, and moves quickly and directly to the (hi)story of the legitimate kingdom of Israel (i.e., the ‘united kingdom’ of David and Solomon and then Judah). Just as it includes a glimpse of the period leading to the establishment of this kingdom, it contains a glance at the period that follows the fall of monarchic Judah and looks in particular towards the establishment of the new commonwealth in Yehud. The focus on this monarchic polity is consistent with the fundamental importance given to Jerusalem and particularly to the temple (and the legitimization of the second temple in terms of the first), which are central theological themes in Chronicles.67


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3.2. On Core Facts Accepted by the Community about its Past and their Implications This paper has pointed again and again at a set of ‘core facts’ about Israel’s past that were agreed upon by the literate elite of Yehud. The Chronicler did not challenge these core facts. Nor is it likely that the author(s) of Chronicles could have done so, even had they wished to, which is itself an unlikely proposition. It is implausible that ancient Yehudite historians would have simply decided to deny the core facts ‘agreed by all’ in their society, particularly those that provided the basis for the main narrative that provides a sense of self-definition and identity to their community. Even if such an individual were to be found, then it would have been extremely unlikely that the community of literati would have accepted such an innovation. The production of a history of Israel – the construction of the people’s past – is a social phenomenon. Its writing and later reading and rereading did not take place in a vacuum, but in a social landscape in which discursive and theological expectations (as well as a particular world of knowledge) existed. Although the proposition of alternative facts was certainly a possibility within this milieu, as Chronicles clearly demonstrates, some core elements of the history of Israel agreed upon among the Yehudite elite were not subject to revision. Finally, the report of facts per se is not necessarily the domain of history writing. History writing, also in antiquity, involved explaining the facts mentioned. The Chronicler offered an explanation of the accepted core facts, on the basis of a particular and quite balanced theology and on historiographical and literary considerations.68 To be sure, these explanations may develop a power of their own, and their logic sometimes questions aspects of received narratives. Thus, historical explanations begin a process of ‘improving’ the construction of the past by adding what was likely to have happened and omitting what was unlikely to have happened. Core, agreed facts, however, are unlikely to be subject to such a process since people were sure that they had happened. Endnotes * This chapter is a slightly modified version of a contribution first published as ‘Shifting the Gaze: Historiographic Constraints in Chronicles and their Implications’, in M. Patrick Graham and J. Andrew Dearman (eds.), The Land That I Will Show You: Essays on the History and Archaeology of the Ancient Near East in Honor of J. Maxwell Miller (JSOTSup, 343; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 2001), pp. 38-60. The original publication opened with the following note: ‘It is with great pleasure and humility that I dedicate to Max this paper on ancient history and historiography, two topics that are close to his heart. May it serve as a small token of my gratitude for all the support he provided my

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family and me during my period of graduate study at Emory and for his friendship since.’ I wish to express my gratitude to T&T Clark International/Continuum Press for allowing me to republish this contribution in the present volume. 1. On historiographic and literary considerations that influenced the writing of Chronicles, see I. Kalimi, The Reshaping of Ancient Israelite History in Chronicles (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2005). 2. This type of issues has been discussed, in one way or another, numerous times in articles in History and Theory. See, for instance, L. Hölscher, ‘The New Annalistic: A Sketch of a Theory of History’, History and Theory 36 (1997), pp. 317-35. 3. ‘Narrative’ is here understood in a broad sense. 4. Who likely resembled the actual author/s of Chronicles on this matter. 5. See John Van Seters, ‘Creative Imitation in the Hebrew Bible’, SR 29 (2000), pp. 395-409. 6. To be sure, by ‘fact’ here and hereafter in this paper I do not mean something that actually happened, but something that was thought to have happened (e.g., the first of humankind was Adam). 7. They may be conducive to a better understanding of similar processes at different times, e.g., Josephus’ times. 8. It goes without saying that the fact that we know the main sources of Chronicles makes this analysis feasible. Josephus’ works serve as the other excellent case study that may be used, but it belongs to another time period. Notwithstanding Auld’s claims to the contrary, this work assumes that Chronicles was based on and largely imitated the texts included in the so-called deuteronomistic history. The Chronicler was also knowledgeable of such sources as Pentateuchal traditions or texts, the text of some Psalms and most likely some prophetic books. Auld’s position is expressed in A.G. Auld, Kings without Privilege: David and Moses in the Story of the Bible’s Kings (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1994); idem, ‘What Was the Main Source of the Books of Chronicles?’, in M.P. Graham and S.L. McKenzie (eds.), The Chronicler as Author: Studies in Text and Texture (JSOTSup, 263; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1999), pp. 91-99; idem, ‘What If the Chronicler Did Use the Deuteronomistic History?’, in J.C. Exum (ed.), Virtual History and the Bible (Leiden: E.J. Brill, 2000), pp. 137-50. 9. See Chapter 7 in this volume. 10. The paper was published in 2003, see E. Ben Zvi, ‘Malleability and its Limits: Sennacherib’s Campaign against Judah as a Case Study’, in L.L. Grabbe (ed.), ‘Bird in a Cage’: The Invasion of Sennacherib in 701 BCE (JSOTSup, 363; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2003), 73-105. 11. It should be noted that the readership of the book is most likely and most often a rereadership, since the book was read and reread. So it is more precise to refer to rereadership than to readership. All further references will be to rereadership. 12. Biblical authors were not constrained by ‘copyright’ nor did they have to mention the actual written sources they used. To copy them when there was nothing of substance at stake was not only simpler, but also probably conveyed an aura of authority to the writing. 13. Or following Chronicles’ theology, ‘Israel’s monarchic history’. On the concept of ‘Israel’, see below.


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14. See M. Oeming, Das wahre Israel: Die ‘genealogische Vorhalle’ 1 Chronik 1–9 (BWANT, 128; Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer, 1990). 15. On genealogies in Chronicles, see among others, G. Knoppers, ‘Shem, Ham and Japheth: The Universal and the Particular in the Genealogy of Nations’, in M.P. Graham, S.L. McKenzie and G.N. Knoppers (eds.), The Chronicler as Theologian: Essays in Honor of Ralph W. Klein (JSOTSup, 371; New York: T&T Clark, 2003), pp. 13-31; idem, ‘Greek Historiography and the Chronicler’s History: A Reexamination’, JBL 122 (2003), pp. 627-50; idem, I Chronicles 1-9, esp. pp. 245-65; G. Snyman, ‘A Possible World of Text Production for the Genealogy in 1 Chronicles 2.3–4.23’, in Graham, et al. (eds.), The Chronicler as Theologian, pp. 32-60; Y. Levin, ‘From Lists to History: Chronological Aspects of the Chronicler’s Genealogies’, JBL 123 (2004), pp. 601-36; idem, ‘Who Was the Chronicler’s Audience? A Hint from his Genealogies’, JBL 122 (2003), pp. 229-45; and W. Johnstone, 1 and 2 Chronicles. I. 1 Chronicles 1–2 Chronicles 9. Israel’s Place among the Nations (JSOTSup, 253; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997. Some issues relevant to genealogies are discussed in Chapters 7 and 9. 16. It goes without saying that this kind of self-conception was most common in the ancient world (cf., with the understanding of Assyria, Egypt and Babylon of their place in the ‘universe’). Needless to say, similar viewpoints have been attested in numerous polities throughout history, including modern days. 17. All the names in 1 Chronicles 1 are derived from Genesis. On these lists see esp. Johnstone, 1 and 2 Chronicles, I, pp. 24-36. 18. See S. Japhet, The Ideology of the Book of Chronicles and its Place in Biblical Thought (BEATAJ, 9; Frankfurt am Main: P. Lang, 2nd rev. edn, 1997), pp. 346-51; cf. G.N. Knoppers, ‘ “Great among his Brothers”, But Who Is He? Social Complexity and Ethnic Diversity in the Genealogy of Judah’, Journal of Hebrew Scriptures 3.6 (2000), esp. §6.11 and 7.1; see idem, ‘Intermarriage, Social Complexity and Ethnic Diversity in the Genealogy of Judah’, JBL 120 (2001), pp. 15-30. See also Chapter 9. 19. See A. Bendavid, Parallels in the Bible (Jerusalem: Carta, 1972), pp. 14-30. Minor differences appear even within Chronicles itself and cf. 1 Chron. 8.29-38 and 1 Chron. 9.35-44. 20. Chronicles (MT) prefers the name ‘Israel’ over ‘Jacob’ in the genealogical section (see 1 Chron. 1.34; 2.1) in which the concept of ‘the children of Israel’ is reflected, communicated and set in the background of all humanity (but see also 1 Chron. 16.13). 21. The Chronicler could and did omit Eve, but could not begin a world history without mentioning Adam or claim that someone other than Adam was the first man. Gender counted. 22. Other implications will be discussed in §3. 23. Sometimes the names by which the kings are designated are different. For instance, Kings tends to use the name ‘Azariah’, but Chronicles refers to the same king as ‘Uzziah’. Still, the Chronicler learned from Kings that this king could be referred to by two names (Azariah and Uzziah; see 2 Kgs 15.30, 32, 34), the name may be different but the persona is the same. In fact, Kings’ use of the name ‘Azariah’ seems to have influenced the composition of the report about him in Chronicles (see 2 Chron. 26.7, 15 and general tenor of the passage). The preference for the name Uzziah may be

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related to the presence in Chronicles of another character, the prophet Azariah who confronts Uzziah/Azariah. On these matters see, I.L. Seeligmann, ‘The Beginnings of Midrash in the Books of Chronicles’ (Hebrew title ‘‫)’ניצני בספר דברי הימים‬, Tarbiz 49 (1979/80), pp. 14-32 (15-16); H.G.M. Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles (NCBC; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1982), pp. 333-34. Slight shifts in the form of the name, such as ‫ יחזקיהו‬instead of ‫חזקיה‬, or the more theologically satisfying ‫ אביה‬instead of ‫– אבים‬ though see S. Japhet, I and II Chronicles (OTL; Louisville, KY; Westminster/John Knox Press, 1993), pp. 683-84 – are of no relevance for the issue at stake here, since the referent of the name, no matter how they are written, is clearly the same king. 24. Four generations are allocated to the time of Solomon, four to the time between Solomonic Azariah to the reform of Josiah (i.e., well over 300 years in Chronicles’ main sequential timeline), and four to the approximately 50 years in that timeline that spans from Josiah (including his entire reign) and the destruction of Jerusalem. On this matter see E. Ben Zvi, ‘About Time: Observations about the Construction of Time in the Book of Chronicles’, HBT 22 (2000), pp. 17-31 (reprinted in Chapter 7 of this volume). (The question of whether these connoted expansions and contractions of time are the result of redactional activity is irrelevant for the purpose of the present discussion, since the primary and intended rereaders of Chronicles in its present form were not asked to read it in such a way that would discard portions of it as ‘secondary’. They accessed a list, and this list of high priests connoted a clear construction of time.) 25. The same holds true for Josephus, for instance. 26. From the viewpoint of the primary (re)readers of Chronicles (and from that of the implied author of the book, i.e., the Chronicler), this lack of ‘consistency’ is not an incidental matter that it is best to ignore, but an important theological marker. It provides a sense of theological proportion to the book. See Chapter 8. 27. Contrast with LXX Kings or Josephus. 28. On all these issues see Chapter 7. 29. See Chapter 7. 30. For a detailed discussion of the secession of the northern kingdom in Chronicles see Chapter 6. 31. See Chapter 6 and cf. G.N. Knoppers, ‘Rehoboam in Chronicles: Villain or Victim?’, JBL 109 (1990), pp. 423-40. 32. Cf. Chapter 10. 33. See, e.g., the construction of the past that begins with the genealogies, the references to Moses and the divine commandments associated with him (see 2 Chron. 5.10; 8.13; 23.18; 24.6, 9; 25.4; 30.16; 33.8; 34.14; 35.6; 35.12), Saul, David, Solomon and the Jerusalem Temple, as well as the one to its precursor, the tent of meeting that Moses made in the wilderness (see 2 Chron. 1.3), and Davidic instructions concerning the way in which the ‘work’ of the temple is supposed to be carried out. 34. The use of the term Israel with multiple meanings in Chronicles and the way it expresses a certain theology and develops identity through its tensions is similar to the one present in Micah 1. See E. Ben Zvi, Micah (FOTL, 21b; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000), pp. 30-31. To be sure, there are constraints on the level of freedom assigned to this polisemy. At times, the potential for theologically unacceptable formulations, which may derive


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particularly from the use of the term Israel for the northern kingdom, led to the presence of some unequivocal sign in the text that serves to mark the referent as the northern kingdom only. This may be achieved by presenting a contrast between Judah and Israel (e.g., 2 Chronicles 13), or by the addition of fool-proof disambiguating clauses (e.g., 2 Chron. 25.7). 35. On this aspect of the discourse of postmonarchic Israel, see E. Ben Zvi, ‘Inclusion in and Exclusion from Israel as Conveyed by the Use of the Term “Israel” in Postmonarchic Biblical Texts’, in S.W. Holloway and L.K. Handy (eds.), The Pitcher Is Broken. Memorial Essays for Gosta W. Ahlström (JSOTSup, 190; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1995), pp. 95-149. 36. And why should they? According to the theological organization of the book, the regnal accounts in Chronicles deal with the kings of Judah. The kings of Israel are to be mentioned when it is necessary for the narrative, i.e., only when they interacted with Judah. It is important to stress that this policy of omission does not imply at all a denial of their existence. It simply communicates a negative stance concerning the place they should take in the historical memory of the community within which and for which Chronicles was composed, and concerning their significance in the large historical scheme of (theological) Israel. Moreover, these omissions result from the decision to report only the regnal accounts of Judah, so as to avoid any suggestion of comparability between the two policies. 37. Ahaziahu is called ‘Azariah’ in 2 Chron. 22.6 and ‘Ahaziahu’ in the rest of the chapter. Both names refer to the same individual, as the context unequivocally requires. 38. For instance, Pekah attacked Ahaz, and there was war between Rehoboam and Jeroboam or Asa and Baasha, but peace and alliance between Ahab and Jehoshaphat. 39. See Chapter 5 and the bibliography mentioned there. 40. Cf. 2 Sam. 5.6-10 with 1 Chron. 11.4-9. 41. Cf. Josephus, Ant. 7.61-65. 42. Cf. W. Riley, King and Cultus in Chronicles: Worship and Reinterpretation of History (JSOTSup, 160; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1993). Temples in antiquity were established by royal orders. The second temple was established by the orders of a Persian king, but the legitimization of the temple mainly in terms of Persian kings was theologically difficult. The legitimization of the second temple and its worship was dependent on its being a continuation of the first. There is the wholly expected emphasis on the Mosaic basis for the first (and second) temple and its worship, but Chronicles construes a past in which the Davidic king par excellence, David, organizes its worship in detail. The result is that David, rather than a Persian king, becomes the actual founder of the temple – first and second – at the symbolic and theological level. See E. Ben Zvi, ‘What Is New in Yehud? Some Considerations’, in R. Albertz and B. Becking (eds.), Yahwism after the Exile: Perspectives on Israelite Religion in the Persian Era (STR, 5; Assen: Van Gorcum, 2003), pp. 32-48. 43. Cf. Josephus, Ant. 8.61-129. 44. Or in Isaiah, for that matter. 45. See Ben Zvi, ‘Malleability and its Limits’. 46. Japhet, Ideology, p. 386. 47. Cf. Z. Kallai, ‘The Explicit and Implicit in Biblical Narrative’, in J.A. Emerton (ed.), Congress Volume Paris 1992 (SVT 61; Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1995), pp. 107-17.

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48. Since ‘Chronicler’ here stands for the implied author (or communicator) of the book, it is construed by the rereadership. 49. Japhet, I and II Chronicles, p. 183. 50. On these matters, see Japhet, I and II Chronicles, pp. 153-54. 51. 1 Kgs 5.9; 19.8; Mal. 3.22; Ps. 106.19. Most of the references to Horeb in the Pentateuch are, of course, in Deuteronomy. 52. Solomon is certainly characterized here as a reliable character. 53. Alternatively, E.M. Dörrfuss (Mose in den Chronikbüchern: Garant theokratischer Zukunftserwartung [BZAW, 219; Berlin: W. de Gruyter, 1994]) has argued that these references to Moses are typically the product of later redactional activity. 54. See, e.g., the following statement by H.G.M. Williamson: ‘…it should be noted that, despite appearances, there is no superseding of the Mosaic regulations. The Chronicler repeatedly affirms, either by explicit reference or allusion, that as far as was practicable the worship of the temple was ordered in conformity with the stipulations of the Pentateuch’, 1 and 2 Chronicles, p. 30. 55. See, for instance, M. Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation in Ancient Israel (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1988), pp. 135-38. 56. It is worth noting that the Pentateuchal books are more authoritative than Kings or Samuel in Chronicles. On these matters see Seeligmann, ‘Beginnings of Midrash’. 57. After all, it is a written text whose reading and rereading requires a high level of literacy. 58. In blunt terms, claims that David brought the children of Israel out of Egypt, that the covenant of Horeb took place in Solomon’s days, that associate YHWH’s Torah with Hezekiah rather than Moses, that there was no exodus or that Israel should not care much whether there was an exodus or a Sinai event – as construed by postmonarchic communities – would have been unthinkable within that society of literati. 59. Cf. 2 Chron. 36.21-22 with Lev. 26.34-35, 43 and Jer. 25.11-12; 29.10. As I have discussed elsewhere, the language of 2 Chron. 26.21 recalls and makes explicit the explanation of the exile and the promise of hope that are implicit in Lev. 26.14-45. As such, it associates the text with a sense of fulfillment and of legitimacy. The 70 years are explicitly related to Jeremiah (see 2 Chron. 36.21-22; cf. Jer 25.11-12; 29.10). One of the results of this activity is a legitimization of the prophetic text that is carried out by the explicit reference to its fulfillment. In addition, the fact that it closely links the prophetic text to the Leviticus text serves to create a sense of harmony and coherence among sources that are authoritative for the Chronicler and the community within which and for which the Chronicles was composed. On these matters see Chapter 7 and the bibliography mentioned there. 60. See preceding note. 61. I discussed some of these matters in Ben Zvi, ‘Inclusion in and Exclusion from Israel’. 62. Whether 1 Chron. 9.2-17 is based on Neh. 11.3-19 or vice versa, the textual relation between the two texts clearly shows an ancient understanding of the text in Chronicles as referring to the postmonarchic community. The reference to the exile of Judah in 1 Chron. 9.1 makes such a referent far more likely than any possible alternative (cf. already Radak; see Miqraot Gedolot, note on 1 Chron. 9.1, ‘And Judah


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was carried away into exile to Babylon for their unfaithfulness’). Of course, if the reference to Judah’s exile is removed from the text, or if its value is downgraded on the claim that it is secondary, then a different text is created. The same holds true for emendations to the phrase ‘the Book of the Kings of Israel’. One may contrast this approach with that advanced in Japhet, I and II Chronicles, pp. 206-208. The references to Benjamin, or Ephraim and Manasseh (1 Chron. 9.3-9) do not necessarily point to a return of people other than those exiled from monarchic Judah (cf. Neh. 11.3-19). See also E. Ben Zvi, A Historical-Critical Study of the Book of Obadiah (BZAW, 242; Berlin/New York: W. de Gruyter, 1996), pp. 197-229. It bears noting that Chronicles indicates the presence of people from tribes other than Judah in Jerusalem or Judah in monarchic times (see 2 Chron. 11.13-17; 35.18). 63. It bears noting that the generations of Davides also continue well beyond the time of the Babylonian exile in 1 Chronicles 3. 64. See Chapter 7. 65. On the importance of the concept of exile for the Chronicler see J.E. Dyck, The Theocratic Ideology of the Chronicler (Leiden, E.J. Brill, 1998). 66. It goes without saying that there is no need to expect manifold references to an event, when the main account of such an event is not included in Chronicles, because of the reasons mentioned below. On the other hand, there is no need to assume that the Chronicler would systematically erase all references to such an event in the sources that were available for and imitated in the writing of Chronicles. Of course, if there is no expectation of full or consistent mention, there is no ‘absence’ too. Contrast this approach with that advanced in Japhet, Ideology, pp. 380-84, esp. pp. 382-83. 67. As an aside, one may mention the case of an opposite topical selection, namely Pseudo-Philo. 68. On the aspect of balance in the Chronicler’s thought, see Chapter 8. On historiographic and literary considerations, see I. Kalimi, Reshaping of Ancient Israelite History.

Chapter 5 THE CHRONICLER AS A HISTORIAN: BUILDING TEXTS*

The Chronicler1 presents to the readers of 1–2 Chronicles a number of reports about building activities outside Jerusalem. These reports explicitly associate the activities with particular kings of Judah and with Solomon (see 2 Chron. 8.4-6; 11.5-12; 14.5-6; 16.6; 17.12-13; 26.2, 6, 10; 27.4; 32.29) and likely serve multiple functions in the shaping of the message of 1–2 Chronicles for its readers. This thematic paper will address the question of how these specific accounts illuminate both the historiographical work of the Chronicler and the value of the Chronicler’s testimony for a critical reconstruction of the history of Judah in the monarchical period. To this purpose, it will first attempt to clarify basic methodological issues and premises underlying the study of these accounts. Then it will address in particular the reports that have no parallel in Kings and will advance a proposal concerning the criterion that led to their inclusion in Chronicles. Finally, it will explore the implications of this criterion for the study of the Chronicler’s historiography and for the use of Chronicles in the reconstruction of monarchical Israelite and Judahite history. 1. Methodological Issues On the surface, the most natural approach to the study of the building accounts and their respective degrees of historical accuracy (as understood in modern historical-critical research; hereafter and simply, accuracy or historical accuracy) is to take them at face value and then compare their specific claims with archaeological evidence. It is no surprise, therefore, that appeals to archaeology to prove or disprove the historical reliability of the Chronicler have been repeatedly made since the second half of the nineteenth century.2 However, the potential results of this method, at least in our case, are somewhat limited. An obvious and substantial limitation of this approach is that it involves the well-known difficulties in dating archaeological

5. The Chronicler as a Historian

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findings to the reign of a certain monarch rather than to larger and less well-defined periods, such as ‘the seventh century BCE’, without relying on the biblical information. If biblical information were used, then such a dating would be another case of circular argumentation, and as such would be unconvincing from a critical perspective. On the other hand, it is true that archaeological data may undermine the argument in favor of the historical accuracy of the ostensible claims of historical narratives, or even render them unlikely beyond redemption. Such is the case concerning the claim of a single conquest campaign in the book of Joshua. Turning to the building accounts in Chronicles, Funk, for instance, maintains that ‘on the basis of the archaeological evidence, it is difficult to account for the Chronicler’s attribution of the rebuilding of Beth-Zur to Rehoboam’.3 Funk’s conclusion – if correct, and so it seems to be – clearly undermines the argument for the historical accuracy of 2 Chron. 11.7 in particular, and of 2 Chron. 11.5-10 in general. Moreover, the building reports themselves are not all of one kind. For the purpose of this article, it would be helpful to distinguish between those in which the text of Chronicles follows that of Kings – or its source – as in 2 Chron. 8.4-6 (//1 Kgs 9.17-19, to a large extent),4 2 Chron.16.6 (//1 Kgs 15.22), and 2 Chron. 26.2 (//2 Kgs 14.22), and those accounts that are unique to Chronicles. In the former, since Chronicles rests on Kings – or its source – the issue at stake is that of the accuracy of the information given in Kings.5 Most significantly, the reports that are unique to Chronicles (i.e., unparalleled in Kings) – with the exception of 2 Chron. 11.5-10, which will be discussed below – are among the building reports least amenable to the ‘archaeological approach’ in the entire Hebrew Bible, because of the vagueness of their claims, as even a cursory reading of these texts shows: (2 Chron. 14.5) (2 Chron. 17.12) (2 Chron. 26.6) (2 Chron. 26.10) (2 Chron. 27.4) (2 Chron. 32.29)6

…‫כי‬

‫ויבן ערי מצורה ביהודה‬ ‫ויבן ביהודה בירניות וערי‬ ‫ויבנה ערים באשדוד ובפלשתים‬ …‫ויבן מגדלים במדבר ויחצב ברות רבים כי‬ ‫וערים בנה בהר־יהודה ובחרשים בנה בירניות ומגדלים‬ …‫וערים עשה לו ומקנה־צאן ובקר לרב כי‬

Furthermore, it is certainly to be expected that, for instance, some towers in the wilderness were built and some cisterns were hewed out in the approximate half-century assigned to the reign of Uzziah (see 2 Chron. 27.10). Of course, the same holds true for many other regnal periods in Judah, or anywhere in the ancient Near East.7

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This being so, archaeological evidence pointing to towers and cisterns in Judah dating to the first half of the eighth century BCE does not and cannot contribute significantly to our understanding of historiographical aspects in Chronicles, nor even to the issue of the (intended) historical accuracy of the Chronicler, unless one assumes beforehand that the Chronicler could not have told the readers of Chronicles about the building of cisterns by Uzziah (and fortresses by Jehoshaphat and the like), unless these activities were described in a historically reliable source that was considered such by the author of Chronicles.8 In general terms, the methodological issue at stake here is ultimately that of ad verecundiam, that is, concerns with the appeal to authority. In this case, the appeal is to the authority of the Chronicler.9 Hence, as in any case of an appeal to authority, the weight of the appeal depends on: (1) an understanding of the statement of the authority that is faithful to its intentions and that takes into account the conventions of its discourse, and (2) the competence of the authority on the subject under discussion. It follows, therefore, that the validity of the appeal to the testimony of the Chronicler regarding the accounts discussed here – and for the purpose of reconstructing the history of monarchic Judah – depends on two independent items. First, it depends on one’s understanding of the Chronicler’s historical/ theological narrative in general, and of the building reports in particular, as texts written under the social and literary (genre) requirement that they should be historically accurate – at least within the limit of the Chronicler’s knowledge.10 Alternatively, at the very least, it depends on the strength of the argument that the mentioned reports, or their basic claims, had to be anchored in historical knowledge about specific and concrete actions (or lack of actions) of Judahite kings, both thought to be historically accurate by the author of Chronicles and acceptable as such by the reading community for which the book was written.11 Second, the appeal to Chronicles as a source for historically reliable information about the pre-exilic period depends on the Chronicler’s expertise concerning building projects carried out during the monarchic period, outside Jerusalem; or, alternatively, on the existence of sources underlying the relevant reports in Chronicles that fulfill the aformentioned two criteria. Of course, the latter can be considered an option only if a strong argument can be made that (1) these sources really existed, and (2) the Chronicler faithfully (re)presented them.12 It follows, therefore, that the decisive observations about these accounts concern themselves with: (1) the likelihood that there were sources


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underlying them; (2) if there were, the extent to which they can be reasonably reconstructed from Chronicles; (3) if there were and they can be reconstructed, the issue of how to assess the strength of an appeal to their authority; (4) turning to Chronicles itself, the image of the past conveyed by these accounts and its implications concerning the historiographical craft of the author of Chronicles; and finally, (5) the question of whether the Chronicler’s building reports had to be anchored in what was regarded as accurate historical information. That the image of the past conveyed by the Chronicler through these reports need not be accurate is self-evident once one recognizes the relative scarcity of kings mentioned. To illustrate, is it historically likely that Josiah, who reigned for several prosperous decades, never built anything? Should all the development in the seventh century in Judah be associated with Manasseh? It is significant that even if for the sake of the case one accepted such a position, the Chronicler does not claim that Manasseh built or rebuilt any town in Judah (see 2 Chron. 33.12-17). In fact, the Chronicler does not report any royal building activity in Judah’s countryside after Hezekiah, and the relevant (?) reference to events in Hezekiah’s reign is not certain.13 It seems difficult to maintain that although the author of Chronicles had no knowledge about construction projects in Judah’s countryside since Hezekiah, this writer knew about such projects in the eighth and ninth centuries (i.e., that narrative gaps in Chronicles correspond to source/ knowledge gaps). Such a proposal is not only unsupported by evidence, but it is also an unnecessary ad hoc hypothesis, whose sole function is to support the view that Chronicles would not have omitted ‘historical’ information if available, a position contradicted by any close comparison between Kings and Chronicles.14 An additional question should then be added to the others: why did the Chronicler associate building accounts only with certain kings,15 and what can be learned from this fact concerning the aforementioned issues to be assessed? 2. Building Texts Unique to Chronicles Turning to the accounts themselves, it is generally accepted that the text in 2 Chron. 11.5b-10 reflects a written source, most likely a list of cities entitled ‫ ערים למצור‬or perhaps ‫ערים למצור ביהודה‬.16 There is no reference to Rehoboam in the reconstructed text that is assumed to reflect the original source, nor is there any indication that the text of the source itself

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associated the list with Rehoboam. And so, how did the author of Chronicles know that this list belonged to Rehoboam?17 A claim that the Chronicler relied on a ‘tradition of interpretation’ that was passed along with the list, but significantly left no identifiable traces,18 is not only an ad hoc hypothesis but also one that by definition cannot be verified.19 In addition, one cannot reasonably assume that the author of Chronicles associated the list with Rehoboam, because after careful analysis the writer reached the conclusion that the specific geographical deployment of fortifications suited best the circumstances of that period. In fact, the geographical deployment is such that it does not allow any clear conclusion in this regard, neither on the basis of the Deuteronomistic narratives about monarchic Judah that were available to the author, nor on those of modern historical reconstructions. Moreover, the period of Rehoboam is not necessarily among the most consistent with the data in the list, in either case.20 One must also keep in mind that biblical writers could and actually did use – knowingly or unknowingly – city lists in (historical) narrative contexts that had nothing to do with their likely historical context, as the lists in Joshua clearly show.21 This being so, it seems preferable to rephrase the question, so as to ask why the Chronicler related such a list to Rehoboam, rather than how the author of Chronicles knew that this list belonged to Rehoboam. The most secure starting point for this inquiry is that details (and especially detailed lists) serve in historical narratives the general purpose of strengthening the narratives’ verisimilitude or their history-likeness. It is obvious that the Chronicler resorts to this rhetorical device quite often. Moreover, recourse to it is widely found in other biblical ‘historiographical’ works.22 Taking all this into account, it is noteworthy there is no list comparable to this fortification list in the Chronicler’s account of the monarchic period, and that general language characterizes the other reports on building activities outside Jerusalem found in Chronicles but not in Kings. The Chronicler communicates, thus, a unique emphasis on the historylikeness of Rehoboam’s building activities outside Jerusalem, and accordingly on the credibility of the speaker23 in this special regard.24 If so, the question is why the Chronicler considered it necessary to support so strongly the description of Rehoboam as one who builds and fortifies, and at this specific time in his career.25 The answer seems to be in 1 Kgs 12.25 and in its significance within the context of the Chronicler’s theological discourse. The text in 2 Chron. 10.1-11.4 follows – with some deviations – that in 1 Kgs 12.1-24; then one finds 1 Kgs 12.25, which reads,


105

‫ ויבן את־פנואל‬... ‫ ויבן ירבעם את־שכם בהר אפרים וישב בה‬and, in its place ‫( וישב רחבעם בירושלם ויבן ערים למצור ביהודה‬2 Chron. 11.5). The similarities in language and the explicit contrasts between ‫ירבעם‬, ‫שׁכם‬ and ‫ בהר אפרים‬on the one hand, and ‫רחבעם‬, ‫ ירושׁלם‬and ‫ ביהודה‬on the other, are self-evident. Moreover, according to the historico/theological discourse in Chronicles, Jeroboam has just committed one of the most significant sins in Israel’s past by revolting against the House of David (2 Chronicles 10), whereas Rehoboam and his people have just followed the voice of the Lord as announced by Shemaiah, the man of God (2 Chron. 11.1-4). Since building activities and especially fortifications are usually an expression of divine blessing in Chronicles, the report in Kings suggests (or would have suggested) a ‘strange inconsistency’ to the (intended) readers of Chronicles: it is not the pious king but the wicked one who is characterized there as a builder (and by probable connotation, as blessed). It seems, therefore, that it is not by chance that the account in Chronicles deviates just at this point in the narrative from the text in Kings. The more so, since it seems obvious that the Chronicler took the language and the contents of the relevant section in Kings as the starting point of the new (unparalleled) narrative but used them so as to construct – in a way that is coherent with the Chronicler’s own discourse – a clear contrast among central terms involved in the ongoing theologico/historical narrative that characterize the book of Chronicles.26 Significantly, the Chronicler claims that Rehoboam built not two, but fifteen27 cities; and despite that, as a good king he dwells in Jerusalem. Of course, the more significant that ‘Jeroboam’s rebellion’ is in the discourse in Chronicles, the more significant the strength of the characterization of Rehoboam as builder (and blessed) becomes, and accordingly, the stronger the reason to associate a list of fortified cities with Rehoboam. But was this association thought to be historically accurate by the author of Chronicles? One may indeed conjecture that this writer (ancient historian) extrapolated from what was maintained to be true to what was unknown, in order to reach the ‘likely’.28 So, if as a rule pious kings are more likely than evil ones to build fortifications, then Rehoboam – at this moment in his career – was among the likely candidates for this endeavor, and for reasons that will be explained later, perhaps one of the most likely. Still, this would be a totally unverifiable conjecture; the mind of the author is outside the realm of critical investigation, and it is impossible to assess to which degree an ancient writer thought that his or her work was likely to reflect past historical events. Hence, it seems more appropriate to focus on the authorial voice in Chronicles, that is, the Chronicler. The latter

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certainly asks the intended reader to accept the validity and relevance of the reconstruction of the past presented in Chronicles, as well as its accuracy. It is surely reasonable to assume that the readers for whom the book was written perceived these narrative claims. However, whether these readers interpreted such claims as necessarily pointing to precise historical referentiality and to historical accuracy in a modern sense, or even thought in such categories, is doubtful. Turning to other reports of building activities outside Jerusalem, in sharp contrast to 2 Chron. 11.5b-10, there are no lists of cities in 2 Chron. 14.5-6; 17.2; 26.10; 27.4; and 32.29. Moreover, contrary to expectations associated with the requirements of verisimilitude and credibility, there is almost no detail in these reports: what is described as built is designated only by generic terms such as ‘cities’, ‘fortified cities’, ‘towers’ and the like; and the places where the latter are built are characterized only in the most general terms (‘Judah’ or its main subregions, such as ‘the Judean Hills’ or ‘the wilderness’). The issue of credibility is solved here – probably less successfully, and likely with less at stake than in 2 Chron. 11.5-12 – by striking a balance between the language that is shared among these reports and that serves to convey a sense of patterning and some degree of individuality given to each of them, so as to correspond to the particular actions of each monarch as described in the book. Significantly, the Chronicler does not attribute the same building activities to more than one king. Each monarch is presented, therefore, as somewhat unique in this regard, and accordingly, the credibility of the narrative is enhanced. A few examples must suffice. According to Chronicles, Jehoshaphat built ‫בירגיות‬, as did Jotham, and both built cities. Those of the former, however, are referred to as ‫ערי מסכנות‬, whereas those of the latter only appear as ‫ ;ערים‬the former built ‫ – ביהודה‬as a whole, the latter his ‫ערים‬, ‫ ;בהר־יהודה‬but his ‫בירניות‬, ‫בחרשׁים‬. Moreover, Jotham built not only ‫בירניות‬, but also ‫מגדלים‬.29 Significantly, Asa also set up ‫מגדלים‬, but in cities (see 2 Chron. 14.6) and as part of city defenses. So the same word, ‫ מגדלים‬points to (watch)towers in one report and to towers in the other.30 Jotham was not the only king to build ‫( מגדלים‬watchtowers); Uzziah did the same, but he did so ‫במדבר‬, unlike Jotham. Moroever, Uzziah’s ‫( מגדלים‬watchtowers) were associated in the text with cisterns, rather than with ‫בירניות‬, as Jotham’s were. Large flocks were the explicit reason given for the aforementioned building projects of Uzziah, but another king, who also has his share of the same blessing, did not build ‫ מגדלים‬nor hew cisterns because of that, but ‘made’ ‫( ערים‬see 2 Chron. 26.10; 32.29).


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Contrary to the case in 2 Chron. 11.5b-10, the reports in 2 Chron. 14.56; 17.2; 26.10; 27.4; and 32.29 do not seem to contain language or expressions that may further the argument that the author of Chronicles was following independent, written sources, each dealing with the specific building projects of a Judahite monarch.31 The report in 2 Chron. 26.6 deserves further study. It shows many of the characteristics of those mentioned above. It differs from them, however, because it clearly refers to building activities in the (territories) of Yavneh and Ashdod. It has been claimed that this account is based on some external source, on the grounds that ‘it [Jabneh] is not otherwise found in literary sources before the Maccabean period, a fact that argues against pure invention here by the Chronicler’.32 But the same fact, especially when it is taken along with the observation that Yavneh seems to have been an important town in the Achaemenid period and onward,33 is better explained as another case in which the author of Chronicles is influenced by the historical circumstances of the writing, just as in the well-known instance in 1 Chron. 29.7, and likely also in 2 Chron. 28.18, where the list of cities suits the circumstances of the Achaemenid period and perhaps suits them better than those of Ahaz’s days.34 If so, and if there is no convincing reason to suppose the existence of sources behind the building reports in 2 Chron. 14.5-6; 17.12; 26.6, 10; 27.4; and 32.29, then for the purpose of this article, the inquiry into these accounts should proceed directly to a study of the issue referred to as (4) above, namely, the image of the past conveyed by these accounts and its implications concerning the historiographical craft of the author of Chronicles. Such an analysis should, of course, take into account the conclusions reached earlier about the reasons that led the Chronicler to include the list of fortified cities in Rehoboam’s account, namely, a ‘hidden’ contrastive dialogue with the information present in Kings, one in which actions in the kingdom of Israel are contrasted with contemporaneous actions in Judah. All these reports share in common a call to their readers to include in their image of the past the building activities carried out by specific kings of Judah outside Jerusalem that were not mentioned at all in the book of Kings.35 These kings are Asa (before his fifteenth year; see 2 Chron. 15.10), Jehoshaphat (certainly before the death of Ahab, according to the narrative), Uzziah, Jotham, and Hezekiah – albeit the inclusion of the latter in the list is debatable. It is worth stressing that the building activities attributed to Asa that are mentioned only in Chronicles are more or less contemporaneous with the establishment of the second dynasty in Israel (and likely with that of Tirzah as capital).

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In addition, Jehoshaphat’s building activities can be seen as more or less contemporaneous with the reign of Ahab, and within the historical narrative of Chronicles, also with the reign of Omri, who was the founder of the third dynasty of Israel and the builder of Samaria.36 If one takes into account that Asa’s actions are described in strong negative terms since his war against Baasha (see 2 Chron. 16.1-13, and esp. vv. 7-9, 10, 12), then one must conclude that within the discourse of Chronicles, Asa would have been an unlikely candidate for blessing and the construction associated with it, even if these were needed as a counterpoise to the image of Omri as builder in Kings. The job had, therefore, to be left to Jehoshaphat.37 It is obvious that Uzziah’s actions may be seen as coterminous with the heyday of the fourth dynasty of Israel, the reign of Jeroboam II (cf. 2 Kgs 15.1),38 but also even with that of Menahem’s dynasty (cf. 2 Kgs 15.17),39 whereas Jotham, within this context, may be related to Pekah (cf. 2 Kgs 15.32).40 Thus, it is noticeable and most likely significant that every period that could have been construed as at least a potentially new beginning or renaissance for the kingdom of Israel by a person knowledgeable of the historical narrative of Kings (or a source closely following it) is coterminous with a period described in Chronicles as one of development in countryside Judah, by means of accounts that are unique to this book and that seem to rely on no previous source – with the exception of 2 Chron. 11.5b-10. The misleading new overtures in the north (the Chronicler considered them all as hopeless, since the very existence of the northern kingdom was an act of defiance against YHWH) are thus compared and contrasted with actual divine blessings in Judah and their material expressions, which include among others, building.41 The correspondence between Judah (except Jerusalem) and northern Israel is understandable and actually expected in the discourse of the Chronicler. The latter, along with others, tended to consider Jerusalem apart from other cities in Judah (i.e., from countryside Judah). This being so, northern Israel can be seen as similar in kind only to Judah, certainly not to Jerusalem. It is worth noting that there is an impressive selection of accounts of correct behavior and ‘blessing’ topoi appearing in close (literary) proximity to the mentioned ‘building’ reports.42 Most of these accounts are unique to Chronicles. This observation certainly strengthens the argument developed here that the Chronicler invested much effort in shaping for the audience the image of blessing over Judah at relevant points in their view of the past.43 This observation also serves to put the building reports in


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perspective: they are minor elements in a much larger characterization of particularly blessed times. Still, it is worth noting that they appear in all of these instances – unlike other reports – and that they cease to appear, once the northern kingdom vanishes. A final note: any proposal claiming that the Chronicler sent a single message to the audience in a particular account or set of accounts is inherently weak. Approaches that may be likened to procrustean beds are not conducive to a better understanding of ancient texts that were written to be read and reread by the community, and they are certainly not appropriate for dealing with sophisticated theological voices, such as that of the Chronicler. Many reports, including the building reports, serve multiple purposes, and each of them should be discussed separately with special attention being given to their textual and contextual differences. This article, however, deals mainly with the shared elements of these accounts. Endnotes * This chapter is a slightly modified version of a contribution first published as ‘The Chronicler as a Historian: Building Texts’, in M.P. Graham, K.G. Hoglund and S.L. McKenzie (eds.), The Chronicler as Historian (JSOTSup, 238; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1997), pp. 132-49. J. Van Seters addressed the issue of building activities in Jerusalem in that volume. My ‘job’ was to discuss accounts of building activities outside Jerusalem. This division of work actually reflected the tendency in Chronicles to consider Jerusalem apart from other cities in Judah with regard to royal initiatives such as building and administrative organization. See, for instance, P. Welten, Geschichte und Geschichtsdarstellung in den Chronikbüchern (WMANT, 42; Neukirchen–Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1973), pp. 52-78; N. Na’aman, ‘The Date of 2 Chronicles 11:5-10 – a Reply to Y. Garfinkel’, BASOR 271 (1988), pp. 74-77 (76). I wish to express my gratitude to T&T Clark International/Continuum Press for allowing me to republish this essay in the present volume. May I also mention that the volume in which the original version of this chapter was published was dedicated to the memory of Ray B. Dillard. 1. The term ‘Chronicler’ refers to the authorial voice construed by the (ancient) readers of the book of Chronicles through their reading of the book. This authorial voice may reflect, in part, that of the actual author or authors (hereafter, author) of the book, yet it should be clearly differentiated from the latter. Moreover, it must be stressed that it is the authorial voice construed by the readers that influences society, for readers only have access to it, rather than to the flesh and blood author. It is the communal and interpersonal reception of the book that construes the discourse of the group and that, in turn, construes the group. Cf. B.O. Long, 1 Kings (FOTL, IX; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1984), p. 21. 2. See M.P. Graham, The Utilization of 1 and 2 Chronicles in the Reconstruction of Israelite History in the Nineteenth Century (SBLDS, 116; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1990), pp. 193-249. The conclusion of one of the most significant of such studies is noteworthy: ‘…it would follow as a fact that no single use of extrabiblical sources by the

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Chronicler has ever been proved. From this further follows not the fact but the undeniable possibility that any information communicated to us only by the Chronicler may be due in every case to his own legitimate theological inference or paraphrase from the canonical Scripture.’ R.S. North, ‘Does Archaeology Prove Chronicles Sources?’, in H.N. Bream, R.D. Heim, and C.A. Moore (eds.), A Light unto my Path: Studies in Honor of J.M. Meyers (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1974), pp. 375-401, esp. 392. For a general survey of the history of research on the question of the historical reliability of Chronicles, see S. Japhet, ‘The Historical Reliability of Chronicles: The History of the Problem and its Place in Biblical Research’, JSOT 33 (1985), pp. 83-107. 3. R.W. Funk, ‘Beth-Zur’, in E. Stern (ed.), The New Encyclopedia of Archaeological Excavations in the Holy Land (4 vols.; Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society & Carta; New York: Simon & Schuster, 1993), I, pp. 259-60. See also N. Na’aman, ‘Hezekiah’s Fortified Cities and the LMLK Stamps’, BASOR 261 (1986), pp. 5-21, esp. 6-7 and bibliography. Although a few sherds from the tenth-ninth century were found in Kh. etI TIubeiqeh (i.e., Beth-Zur), and their presence may suggest some form of occupation, it seems that Kh. etI TIubeiqeh was not a fortified site during the tenth-ninth century. (My thanks are due to Avi Ofer for sharing with me his insights concerning this site by e-mail.) 4. The ketiv ‫ תמר‬in 1 Kgs 9.18 projects an image of Solomon’s kingdom as comprising a smaller realm than the qere ‫תדמר‬. For this reason, the ketiv is often preferred. See, for instance, G. Gerlerman, Synoptic Studies in the Old Testament (LUA, 44/5; Lund: C.W.K. Gleerup, 1948), pp. 122-23; G.H. Jones, 1 and 2 Kings (NCB; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1984), p. 216; A.G. Auld, Kings without Privilege: David and Moses in the Story of the Bible’s Kings (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1994), p. 64; G.W. Ahlström, The History of Ancient Palestine from the Palaeololithic Period to Alexander’s Conquest (JSOTSup, 146; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1993), pp. 506-507; and the bibliography mentioned in these works; but see, for instance, G.N. Knoppers, Two Nations under God (HSM, 52 and 53; 2 vols.; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1993), I, pp. 12728. In any case, it seems questionable that the author of Chronicles was the ‘creator’ of the reading ‫ תדמר‬here, for it is attested in the ancient versions of Kings – including the Lucianic recension – and 4QKgsª It is likely that here, as in some other instances, the author of Chronicles followed a source different from MT (ketiv) Kings (e.g., Gerlerman, Synoptic Studies, pp. 122-23. 5. Of course, in principle, the deviations from the source underlying the text in Chronicles may shed light on several aspects of the theological message of the Chronicler and on the issue of how the historical narrative in Chronicles was shaped so as to serve such a message. In fact, in regards to these accounts the textual divergences between Chronicles and its source are not especially significant, with the clear exception of the report in 2 Chron. 8.4-6. On the latter see, for instance, S. Japhet, I and II Chronicles (OTL; Louisville, KY; Westminster/John Knox Press, 1993), pp. 620-23; H.G.M. Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles (NCBC; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1982), pp. 229-30 and the bibliography cited there. On the overall theological message of this pericope, see also S.J. de Vries, 1 and 2 Chronicles (FOTL, XI; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1989), pp. 266-69, esp. 269. The omission of ‫ אין נקי‬in 2 Chron. 16.6 (cf. 1 Kgs 15.22) may reflect uneasiness concerning the king’s decree that no one be exempt from working on this project.


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6. The reading ‫ וערים‬is not certain. Although ‫ עשׂה‬points to homo faber (see DBHE, pp. 591-92) and may be translated here and there as ‘build’ (e.g., 2 Kgs 20.20), it is not found in relation to cities elsewhere (cf. 1 Kgs 15.23; 22.39). For the proposal to read ‫ ועדרים‬instead of ‫וערים‬, see, for instance, W. Rudolph, Chronikbücher (HAT: Tübingen: J.C.B. Mohr – Paul Siebeck, 1955), p. 312, and Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles, p. 387; for the view that the MT reading is preferable, see, for instance, R.B. Dillard, 2 Chronicles (WBC, 15; Waco, TX: Word Books, 1987), p. 254. The mention of ‫ ערים‬in this pericope (and cf. 2 Chron. 26.6-7, 10) might be reminiscent of the circumstances narrated in Numbers 32, where references to ‫ מקנה רב‬and to building ‫ ערים‬are interlinked. 7. ‘Usually the kings of the ancient Near East were great builders. Government buildings, such as palaces, temples, store cities and fortresses, were expressions not only of a king’s duties or of his dreams about power and might; the building programs were at the same time an expression of his position as the god’s viceroy, the one who should shepherd the people. In this way the king carried out the god’s demands for making his realm organized, strong and grand.’ Ahlström, History of Ancient Palestine, p. 507. Of course, there were towns, store towns, fortified towns, fortresses, watchtowers, and the like in Iron Age Judah, and certainly most, if not all of them, were built under the royal auspices, but does it prove the historicity of the accounts in Chronicles? See below. For an attempt to relate, with much qualification, some of the archaeological findings with the accounts in Chronicles, see A. Mazar, ‘Iron Age Fortresses in the Judaean Hills’, PEQ 114 (1982), pp. 87-109. 8. To put it bluntly, archaeological evidence pointing to building and development in southern Judah and Negev during the eighth century does not and cannot confirm the historicity of the Chronicler’s report concerning Uzziah. At best, it may allow for such a historicity. (Contra, for instance, Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles, pp. 336-37; cf. Welten, Geschichte und Geschichtsdarstellung, p. 26.) This is so not only, or even mainly, because of issues involved in the comparison between precise details in the text and archaeological findings, nor even because of the problematic character of unequivocal correlations between archaeological (relative) datings and precise regnal periods that are based on the biblical narrative. The main reason concerns itself with the recognition of a gap of several centuries between the writing of Chronicles and the events reported. To claim that archaeological findings confirm the Chronicler’s historicity – rather than that they are not in tension with specific claims of a certain account – represents an unwarranted logical jump, unless one can advance a reasonable argument linking building activities in the eighth century with the historical narrative written several centuries later. Did the author of this narrative know that Uzziah developed the countryside? If so, how? To state the obvious, an ‘inductive’ approach aimed at evading the latter question – i.e., to point to such a large number of instances of compelling and unequivocal, positive correlation between archaeological findings and plain narrative claims in Chronicles, both concerning each Judahite king’s actions and lack thereof, so as to make it reasonable to assume that such a link exists, even if it cannot be explained – is doomed to failure from the outset.

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Moreover, is a de-contextualized reading of the building report included in the account of Uzziah’s reign the best way to reconstruct the most likely testimony of the Chronicler concerning Uzziah’s actions? In Chronicles, the book read by the intended community of readers, the report is set in a larger context, within which Uzziah is compared and contrasted with other kings. Thus, for instance, neither Manasseh nor Josiah are described in this form, despite the great development in the seventh century. Moreover, Uzziah is the only king – in fact the only person in the Hebrew Bible – described as ‘a lover of soil’. But is this ‘historical’ image of Uzziah due to the fact that ‘this ancient historian’ knew about specific deeds of Uzziah that set him apart from other Judahite kings? The answers given to these and related questions have clear implications for the critical use of the Chronicler’s testimony for the purpose of a historical-critical reconstruction of monarchic Judah (see below). In any case, such an endeavor must begin with the recognition that the book of Chronicles is not and should not be considered a primary source for the monarchic period. Cf. E.A. Knauf, ‘From History to Interpretation’, in D.V. Edelman (ed.), The Fabric of History (JSOTSup, 127; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1991), pp. 26-54, esp. 51-52. 9. See, for instance, Japhet’s discussion of 2 Chron. 11. 6-10aα. She maintains that no ‘unequivocal literary or archaeological evidence can be brought forward in favour of any one view’ concerning the chronological context of the list of fortifications associated with Rehoboam in these verses. Then she writes, ‘conclusions…cannot be definite; but since it seems likely that the new king followed his father’s policy in fortifying Judah, I am inclined, pending further evidence, to accept the association of this list with Rehoboam’. See Japhet, I and II Chronicles, pp. 665-66. Of course, Japhet does not tend to relate the list to Rehoboam only, or even mainly, on the grounds that it is seems likely that a son follows the footsteps of a father, but because the Chronicler associates the list with Rehoboam, i.e., on an appeal to the authority of the Chronicler, an authority that seems strong enough to decide the balance when no unequivocal argument can be made one way or the other. 10. The weakness of such an understanding is often recognized. See, for instance, I. Kalimi, ‘Literary-Chronological Proximity in the Chronicler’s Historiography’, VT 43 (1993), pp. 318-38. 11. The alternative is to assume that the historical narrative in Chronicles includes literary, theological, and ideological topoi, selected mainly according to their roles in the shaping of the text’s message, and whose presence there may or may not reflect historical events or at least, historical knowledge thought to be accurate – in the modern sense of the term – by the author and readers. If such is the case, then no critically controlled position concerning their historical accuracy can be taken without the support of independent evidence. 12. Of course, this approach is diametrically opposed to that which claims from the outset that one should accept the historical reliability (and historical referentiality) of the Chronicler’s narrative, with the only exception of specific claims that can be convincingly ruled out. Such an approach presumes (rather than analyzes) the validity of the appeal to authority of that narrative as an accurate historical source for the monarchic period. It is worth mentioning in this respect that, as Bentzen already


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noticed decades ago, one may not be in a situation to rule out completely even the claim of b B. Bat. 15a that Jeremiah was the author of Kings. Of course, from this observation it does not follow that one should accept such a claim, unless one presumes the value of an appeal to authority of b B. Bat. 15a as an accurate source for the history of the late monarchic and early post-monarchic period. (From a methodological viewpoint alone, the two cases are comparable). See A. Bentzen, Introduction to the Old Testament (2 vols.; Copenhagen: Gads Forlag, 1949), II, p. 97. 13. On 2 Chron. 32.29, see above. That a historical narrative does not have to be ‘historically’ accurate is clearly shown by Kings, as it creates an image of the past in which the Assyrian domination of Judah came to a complete end in the fourteenth year of Hezekiah. 14. Notice, for instance, the difference between their accounts of Solomon’s building activities in Jerusalem. On this point, see Japhet, I and II Chronicles, pp. 537-38, 54950, 613-14. 15. The answer cannot be that ‘pious kings’ build. As widely recognized in Chronicles, only kings who behave piously may build, but there are kings who are described in such a way and to whom no report about building activities in countryside Judah is attached (e.g., Abijah, Joash, Josiah), nor is it simply an issue of building ‘parity’ between Jerusalem and ‘Judah’ (eg., Joash, Manasseh). (In Chronicles, military-related building activities are considered to be an expression of the divine blessing that generally follows righteous behavior. Cf. 1 Chron. 11.8; 2 Chron. 26.9-10; 27.3-4; 32.5. On these topoi, see Welten, Geschichte und Geschichtsdarstellung, pp. 9-78.) 16. E.g., M. Noth, The Chronicler’s History (JSOTSup, 50; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1987), pp. 58-59; Rudolph, Chronikbücher, pp. 228-30; Welten, Geschichte und Geschichtsdarstellung, pp. 11-15; V. Fritz, ‘The “List of Rehoboam’s Fortresses” in 2 Chr 11.5-2 – a Document from the Time of Josiah’, in B. Mazar (ed.), Y. Aharoni Memorial Volume (EI, 15; Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1981), pp. 46-53; Na’aman, ‘Hezekiah’s Fortified Cities’, p. 5; idem, ‘Date’, p. 76. 17. Such a question points to the heart of the argument in favor of the appeal to the authority of the Chronicler as a historian. 18. Should one assume that it was oral? 19. It is needless to say that even if, for the sake of argument, one accepted this hypothesis, the historical reliability of this untraceable tradition would be questionable, and along with it, that of the Chronicler’s testimony. 20. For example, the list suggests a threat from the west, whereas the immediate literary context in Chronicles is more consistent with a threat from the north. 21. See also Ben Zvi, ‘The List of the Levitical Cities’, JSOT 54 (1992), pp. 77-106 and the bibliography cited there. 22. The lists in Joshua provide a ‘classic’ example. Concerning Chronicles, see also Ben Zvi, ‘List of the Levitical Cities’. The itinerary form in Num. 33.1-49 has the same purpose. See J. Van Seters, The Life of Moses (Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1994), pp. 161-64. The same holds true also for the list of cities built by the Transjordanian tribes in Num. 32.34-38; cf. Van Seters, Life of Moses, pp. 446-50. 23. On these issues, see also R.K. Duke, The Persuasive Appeal of the Chronicler: A Rhetorical Analysis (BLS, 25; JSOTSup, 88; Sheffield: Almond Press, 1990), pp. 105-38.

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24. One may conjecture that the author had no access to additional fortification lists and did not wish to ‘fabricate’ new ones. Perhaps one may surmise that the Chronicler had more than one list but wished to emphasize the case supporting the characterization of Rehoboam as a (main) ‘builder’ by means of a uniquely detailed account. Both suggestions are essentially unverifiable and, as such, do not advance the discussion. It is better to remain with what can be verified, i.e., that the Chronicler rendered Rehoboam’s account unique in this respect and that it is most likely that there was a reason for it. 25. As is well known, the Chronicler develops Rehoboam’s career in three stages. 26. Cf. Rudolph, Chronikbücher, p. 227; J. Goldingay, ‘The Chronicler as a Theologian’, BTB 5 (1975), pp. 99-126 (102-103); Auld, Kings without Privilege, p. 106. On the surface, one may argue that the Chronicler could have solved ‘the problem’ by presenting a text that denied the building activities of Jeroboam, rather than by accentuating those of Rehoboam (and omitting all reference to those of Jeroboam). But such a solution would have been inconsistent with the Chronicler’s work, for the Chronicler does not explicitly refute received texts nor make polemic statements about them. The Chronicler, as narratorial voice, prefers to let the events reported speak for themselves, as it were (see Duke, Persuasive Appeal, p. 108; cf. M. Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation in Ancient Israel (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1988), p. 382). In fact, omitting references to ‘positive’ actions of Jeroboam and elevating the character of the lawful king, Rehoboam, was not only the most attractive alternative, but also the one most consistent with the literary (and theological) conventions guiding the work of the author of Chronicles (cf. also the Chronicler’s characterization of Abijah, about whom not all could have been good in the eyes of the author). See D.G. Deboys, ‘History and Theology in the Chronicler’s portrayal of Abijah’, Bib 71 (1990), pp. 48-62, esp. 52. 27. That is seven times more than Jeroboam did, plus one. On seven cities pointing to completeness, see, for instance, Jdt. 2.28 (C.A. Moore, Judith [AB, 40; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1985], p. 139); Rev. 1.4. The number 15 is among the possible candidates of a system based on triads, such as this list. 28. Cf. L.I.C. Pearson, The Greek Historians of the West: Timaeus and his Predecessors (PMAPA, 35; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1987), p. 50. Some of these issues were discussed in J. Van Seters, ‘Filling in the Gaps: Compositions Techniques in Near Eastern and Greek Historiography and in Deuteronomistic History’ (paper presented at the 1994 annual meeting of the SBL). 29. Cf. 2 Chron. 17.12 with 2 Chron. 27.4. Notice also the qtl–wyqtl contrast, as well as that between the order ‘verb–location–direct object1–direct object2’ and the chiastic pattern: ‘direct object1–verb-location1 + location2–verb–direct object2-3’. 30. The same contrast between the two referents of this word is found in 2 Chron. 26.9-10. See below. 31. ‫ ערי מצורה‬occurs in 2 Chron. 14.5 and nowhere else in the Hebrew Bible (but see 2 Chron. 11.10, 11, 23; 12.4; 21.3). ‫ בירניות‬is found only in Chronicles (2 Chron. 17.12; 27.4; ‫[ בירנית‬the singular form] occurs nowhere). ‫ ערי מסכנות‬occurs in Exod. 1.11; 1 Kgs 9.19 (//2 Chron. 8.6), and 2 Chron. 8.4; 16.4; 17.12. Although the word ‫ מגדלות‬is found in 1 Chron. 27.25 and 2 Chron. 32.5, ‫ מגדלים‬occurs four times, namely in 2 Chron. 14.6; 26.9, 10; and 27.4.


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It is true that the referent of ‫ מגדלים‬in 2 Chron. 26.9 and 10 is not the same, but this does not necessarily mean that one of them comes from an independent source. On the contrary, one may claim that this is a stylistic device to bind together the two (parallel) reports (see above). In any case, the use of ‫ מגדלים‬in reference to (watch)towers is found in 2 Chron. 26.10 and 27.4 and in reference to the towers of a city wall in 2 Chron. 14.6; 26.9. Hence there is no need to hypothesize a non-chronistic source. For a different approach, see Welten, Geschichte und Geschichtsdarstellung, p. 26; Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles, p. 336; de Vries, 1 and 2 Chronicles, p. 356. 32. Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles, pp. 334-35. For studies in this verse, see de Vries, 1 and 2 Chronicles, p. 358-59 and the bibliography cited there. 33. See E. Stern, Material Culture of the Land of the Bible in the Persian Period, 538– 332 B.C. (Warminster/Jerusalem: Aris & Phillips/Israel Exploration Society, 1982), pp. 19-22. Cf. Jdt. 2.28; 1 Macc. 4.15; 5.58; 10.69; 15.40; Strabo 16.2.28 §759. 34. Notice especially the reference to Aijalon and Gimzo. For a different approach to this list of cities, see R.W. Doermann, ‘Archaeology and Biblical Interpretation: Tell el Hesi’, in L.G. Perdue, L.E. Tombs and G.L. Johnson (eds.), Archaeology and Biblical Interpretation, Essays in Memory of D.G. Rose (Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1987), pp. 129-46. It is also worth noting that the textual proximity of ‫ יבנה‬to ‫ ויבנה‬in 2 Chron. 26.6 seems to hold the best explanation for the unusual (long) form of the latter. If so, stylistic considerations may have strongly influenced the text of the report (cf. Zeph. 2.4; see E. Ben Zvi, A Historical–Critical Study of the Book of Zephaniah (BZAW, 198; Berlin: W. de Gruyter, 1991), pp. 150-51). The more the case is so, the more doubtful is the argument for the historical accuracy of the account. 35. The present analysis shows that the book of Kings was included in the repertoire of books read in the society within which (and for which) Chronicles was written (cf. Auld, Kings without Privilege, p. 106). This does not necessarily mean that the author of Chronicles had to follow the present text of Kings rather than a forerunner or closely related source. This issue, however, is beyond the scope of the present study. 36. The historical narrative of Chronicles claims that Baasha was still the king of Israel in the thirty-sixth year of Asa (2 Chron. 16.1), and Asa died in the forty-first year of his reign (2 Chron. 16.13). If one accepts this chronology, one has to conclude that Omri must have built Samaria when Jehoshaphat reigned over Judah and Jerusalem. It is noteworthy that according to 1 Kgs 16.8-11 (with no parallel in Chronicles), Elah, the son of Baasha, began to reign over Israel in the twenty-sixth year of Asa and was murdered, along with all the House of Baasha, in the twenty-seventh year of Asa. Accordingly, the entire reign of Omri is presented as contemporaneous with that of Asa over Judah, despite a certain degree of internal inconsistence in the chronological system of Kings (see 1 Kgs 16.23, 29; and 22.41). 37. It is possible that one of the purposes for the ‘strange’ dating of the war between Asa and Baasha in Chronicles (2 Chron. 16.1) was to let Jehoshapat, the new pious king, fill the role of Rehoboam over and against the new Jeroboam, Omri. For other comparable elements in the Chronicler’s accounts of Rehoboam and Jehoshaphat, see below. 38. The establishment of the House of Jehu was certainly not a negative event in Chronicles (see 2 Chron. 22.7-8). So, it seems appropriate that the Judahite counterpart to a king of this dynasty will be contrasted with the king of this dynasty who was

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militarily most successful according to Kings, namely Jeroboam II, who, by the way, was considered a sinner, even in Kings. 39. Significantly, the text of 2 Kgs 15.20 seems to imply that there were 60,000 ‫ גבורי החיל‬in Israel in Menahem’s days. This number may have evoked an image of wealth – especially agrarian wealth. Cf. the Chronicler’s (unique) building account of Uzziah. 40. If Hezekiah is included in this group of kings, he may serve the role of the positive counterpart to Hoshea. 41. E.g., Welten, Geschichte und Geschichtsdarstellung, pp. 52-78; Na’aman, ‘Date’, p. 76. 42. For instance, concerning cultic reforms or related actions, see 2 Chron. 11.13-16; 14.2-4; 17.6, 7-9; for following the word of prophets, 2 Chron. 11.2-4; 26.5; for building and fortification of Jerusalem, 2 Chron. 26.9, 15; 27.3; for military might or victory, 2 Chron. 14.7-14; 17.14-19; 26.6-7, 11-15; 27.5; for reorganizing and strengthening regional administration and defenses, 2 Chron. 11.11-12, 23; 17.2, 19. 43. One may add that since (1) the audience of the book could not have read it outside any cultural context, and (2) it is most likely that their image of the past was strongly influenced by the historical narratives in Samuel and Kings (see above), then it is actually to be expected that the Chronicler would especially address (potential) turning points in those narratives.

Chapter 6 THE SECESSION OF THE NORTHERN KINGDOM IN CHRONICLES: ACCEPTED ‘FACTS’ AND NEW MEANINGS*

The shared historical memory of the author and first readers of Chronicles1 included many ‘facts’ about which there was no dispute. The meaning of these facts, however, was shaped in different ways,2 and not all these ‘accepted facts’ were of equal value. Some were central to the construction of Israel’s past, but certainly others were not. The more prominent an agreed ‘fact’3 was within this memory, the stronger was the persuasive power of a convincing interpretation of that fact, and above all, of the relevant theological or ideological implications that such interpretation carried.4 To explore these matters as they relate to Chronicles, I will focus on several aspects of the explanation given in the book for a central fact in the memory of the Chronicler5 and the first readers of Chronicles: the division of the Davidic–Solomonic kingdom and the establishment of the Northern Kingdom, which not only lasted for centuries but fixed in place a separation that continued until the days of the provinces of Yehud and Samaria. In other words, the heightened significance of the event was due to its lasting influence on the (hi)story of Israel.6 It was inevitable that the question would be raised of when and why this foundational event happened or was allowed to happen in the divine economy. The relation between the Davidic–Solomonic kingdom and the Davidic kingdom of Judah7 was complex and involved an intertwining of identity and difference. Moreover, there were tensions between the idea of ‘all Israel’, which included the Northern Kingdom, and the determination that the populace of the Northern Kingdom was unfaithful to YHWH, because of their separate existence and their rejection of the theology and ritual of the Jerusalem temple. There is no doubt that the existence of the former Northern Kingdom of Israel, separate from but contemporary with the Davidic kingdom of Judah for most of the monarchic period, was a historical fact accepted

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by the literati of Yehud, which included the author and first readers of Chronicles. The Chronicler could not deny the existence of the Northern Kingdom and the corresponding decrease in the area under the direct, political rule of the Davidic kings. Moreover, it is not only the existence of the northern polity that was an agreed-upon fact, but many core elements of its history8 and the basic story about its birth. Thus the Chronicler could not have assigned the secession to a period other than the end of Solomon’s reign and the beginning of Rehoboam’s. Nor could he have associated the story with any northern king other than Jeroboam (I) or altered the main spatial elements of the story (e.g., the references to Shechem). In fact, the basic plot of the story of the secession in Chronicles, most of its details and its outcome – the birth of a separate polity – are almost identical to those in Kings. The Chronicler’s behavior in this regard is expected and probably unavoidable. All this taken into account, the seemingly close retelling of the story of the secession of kings in Chronicles masks the communication of new meanings, a change of emphases, and historiographical and theological implications that are certainly unique to Chronicles. Thus whereas the main facts may remain the same, what the readers learn from them changes substantially. In this and similar instances, the retelling of known facts serves to enhance the rhetorical appeal and the possibility of acceptance for a new story of secession, and above all for the new meanings that it would carry. Accepted historical facts become necessary components for the successful communication of the theological messages of Chronicles to the literati.9 The shaping of these messages in the present case involved significant changes in the context in which the facts are set. In Chronicles, as in most – if not all – historiographical works, the narrative context gives meaning to the facts, rather than vice versa.10 1. The Prominence of the Seemingly Unexplainable in the (Hi)story of the Secession in Chronicles Gary Knoppers has noted that the account in Chronicles (unlike Kings) ‘depicts Solomon’s reign as uniformly illustrious’, and ‘there are no adumbrations whatsoever of the…division’ in this account. Consequently, the Chronicler ‘has rendered the secession incomprehensible’.11 Although I agree with the gist of his explanation to this point, the expression ‘incomprehensible’ is too vague. The following statement – though wordy – is more precise and helpful: the Chronicler has drawn the attention of the readers of the narrative to a formative event or historical process in which the actions of the main characters seem to defy common expectations.

6. The Secession of the Northern Kingdom in Chronicles

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The readers of the book would have expected the transfer of power to Rehoboam to follow the basic lines of that to Solomon when he became king, except, of course, for changes required by the new circumstances (namely, the temple was already built, and the prior king was already dead). In other words, they expected to be told that the prince became king (1 Chron. 23.1; cf. 2 Chron. 9.31) and then of great festivities, involving numerous sacrifices, in which the assembly (‫)קהל‬12 crowned the new king and anointed him as a divinely appointed ruler (‫וימשחו ליהוה לנגיד‬, 1 Chron. 29.22). Moreover, the readers might have expected some reference to the (high) priest in these sacral festivities (1 Chron. 29.20-25, esp. v. 22).13 Finally, they could have anticipated a concluding statement that the new king sat on YHWH’s throne and all Israel obeyed him (v. 23). With these expectations in mind, the readers would immediately notice that in the case of Rehoboam’s ascent to the throne something had gone astray from the very outset. According to 2 Chron. 10.1, the coronation was not to occur in Jerusalem but in Shechem. Within the ideological world of Chronicles, this was no mere geographical shift but precluded the possibility of legitimate sacrifices and so left no (ritual) space for YHWH in the ceremony. Not surprisingly, the term ‫‘( קהל‬assembly’), which carries sacral or ritual connotations in Chronicles, does not occur here, but rather the text refers to ‘all Israel’.14 Whereas the reference in Kings to Shechem instead of Jerusalem is comprehensible against the background of 1 Kings 11 (and the so-called deuteronomic history), the same reference in Chronicles calls attention to what seems to be a choice involving either a rejection of the unique status of Jerusalem and its temple or the sacral aspects of the coronation, if not both. One might argue that the actions of Rehoboam and Israel could have reminded some readers of the events described in 1 Chron. 11.3, in which all the elders of Israel came to Hebron to anoint David. But these readers would also have recalled that the elders came to the king rather than vice versa. Far more important, they would have recognized that a claim that Shechem could function as well as Hebron as the legitimate place for crowning a Davidide before YHWH, would have implied that the conquest of Jerusalem and the establishment of the Jerusalemite temple had no lasting impact on Israelite coronations.15 Why would Rehoboam (or Israel for that matter) go to Shechem for a coronation rather than to Jerusalem?16 Why would Rehoboam (or ‘all Israel’) implicitly reject Jerusalem and its temple? In Chronicles it is not only the secession of the North, but already the first detail in the story that leads up to the secession – the choice of Shechem for the coronation of the

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Davidide – that seems inexplicable. The matter involves nothing less than the centrality of Jerusalem, its temple and the relation between YHWH and the Davidide king. The choice of Shechem over Jerusalem is merely one of several extremely odd events that stand at the core of the narrative of the secession in Chronicles. For instance, within the Chronicler’s world, there is no clear reason either for ‘all Israel’ to call Jeroboam or for the complaint about the yoke of heavy taxation, and accordingly, for the ‘counsel of the youths’ that seems to accept that the existence of a clearly non-existing heavy yoke during Solomonic times. These two examples are worthy of further exploration. Turning to the first, within Chronicles the first and only reference to Jeroboam before the narrative of the secession is 2 Chron. 9.29.17 Among the purported sources for the study of the Solomonic period, the text explicitly refers to written texts that contained the prophecy of Ahijah the Shilonite and the visions of the seer Jeddi or Jeddo (‫ יעדי‬or ‫)יעדו‬ concerning (or, against) Jeroboam.18 Not only are the readers of Chronicles not told that Jeroboam is an Ephraimite, but his role over all Ephraimite forced labor could not have existed in the world described in Chronicles (see below).19 Nor is there any place in that world for the narrative in 1 Kgs 11.29-40 or anything similar to it. Thus, while the readers of Chronicles are told of divine communications concerning Jeroboam that took place in the days of Solomon, nothing more is said about these communications or about Jeroboam. Given this narrative world of Chronicles, the question for which the readers of Chronicles seem to have no answer is, ‘Why would all Israel decide to call Jeroboam?’20 The question is even more poignant for these readers, since they are told – implicitly but unequivocally – that Jeroboam must have been a wrongdoer and that under normal circumstances ‘all Israel’ should have been well aware of that.21 We turn now to Rehoboam’s response to the complaints over heavy taxation. Whereas Kings directly associates Jeroboam with taxation and the forced labor of Ephraim, and the reign of Solomon in general with Israelite forced labor, the same does not hold true in Chronicles. In the latter, forced labor was imposed on non-Israelites who lived in the land (2 Chron. 2.1, 16-17 [contrast with 1 Kgs 5.27-32 (EVV vv. 13-18)] and 2 Chron. 8.7-10).22 Israelites were explicitly exempted from forced labor.23 Against this background, the demand by Jeroboam and ‘all Israel’ that Rehoboam lighten the heavy yoke (‫ )עול‬and workload (‫ )עבודה‬that Solomon had placed upon them (2 Chron. 10.4) seems not only baseless but also extremely odd. The response of ‘the youths’ who had grown up with


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Rehoboam is even more bizarre, for it acknowledges the existence of a heavy yoke and workload that never existed (see 2 Chron. 10.10). The proposed answer moves even further into the absurd, as it states that the up-to-now unheard of forced work of Israel should dramatically increase. The concluding advice of the youth to Rehoboam – to proclaim that his little finger is thicker than the loins of his recently deceased and beloved father – serves as a fitting literary ending to utterly unreasonable and seemingly unexplainable advice (2 Chron. 10.10; contrast with Exod. 20.12; Deut. 5.16 and the logic implied in Mal. 1.6). According to the story, Rehoboam actually followed the youths’ advice and rejected the ‘counsel of the elders’.24 The latter action alone would characterize him as a rebellious and foolish person, since the instruction of priests and counsel of the elders was to be honored (Ezek. 7.26).25 Rehoboam’s acceptance of the absurd advice of the youths and his implied acceptance of their misunderstanding of their immediate past indicate his inability to think rationally and even remember correctly the most recent past. One must add to all this that Rehoboam decided to go to Shechem to be crowned, rather than performing the relevant ceremonies in Jerusalem, and his implicit acceptance of the youths’ comments shamed his father Solomon.26 To complete the picture, there is the report of Rehoboam’s first action after the rebellion, to send Hadoram (‫ )הדרם‬to the northern Israelites (2 Chron. 10.18). Whereas the reference to Adoram’s mission in 1 Kgs 12.18 serves to highlight the king’s decision to reinstate forced labor in Israel by the symbolic act of sending the person who was over this institution (‫ ;אדרם אשר על המס‬see 2 Sam. 20.24 and cf. 1 Kgs 4.6; 5.28 [EVV v. 14] – ‫ אדרם‬is a short form of ‫)אדנירם‬,27 the note in 2 Chron. 10.19 makes a different point. Since forced labor here was only required from non-Israelites, already the youths’ counsel and Rehoboam’s acceptance of it point to the court’s tendency to de-Israelitize northern Israel.28 Against this background, the sending of Hadoram, who was in charge of the forced labor, is clearly an attempt to consolidate and publicly legitimize that tendency. The Chronicler reinforced this message by the allusive role of the word ‫ מס‬here (it appears elsewhere in Chronicles only in 2 Chron. 8.8, which points to the forced labor of the non-Israelites) and above all by the renaming of the main character. Whereas ‫ אדרם‬and ‫ אדנירם‬point at ‘my (divine) master is exalted’,29 ‫ הדורם‬suggests ‘Hadad is exalted’. The two other persons named Hadoram in Chronicles are non-Israelites (1 Chron. 1.21; 18.10), and in one of these cases, Chronicles substitutes ‫( יורם‬2 Sam. 8.10) for ‫( הדורם‬1 Chron. 18.10), precisely to emphasize that the man is not an Israelite.30 In other words, the Chronicler suggests to his readers

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that Rehoboam sent a non-Israelite taskmaster to the now de-Israelitized North to enforce symbolically and (eventually) practically their new status as non-Israelites. Of course, within the world of Chronicles such an endeavor can only fail, but it certainly contributes to the characterization of Rehoboam as a king who departs from YHWH. Note also the divine reference to the northern Israelites as Judah’s kindred (‫ )אחיכם‬immediately following this report (2 Chron. 11.4). There can be no doubt that all these considerations were intended to advance a negative characterization of the king, yet the Chronicler asked these same readers to evaluate Rehoboam in unequivocally positive terms for this period (i.e., until about the fifth year of his reign; see 2 Chron. 12.1).31 Most significantly, whereas the campaign of Shishak is presented as divine punishment, nowhere is the secession of the Northern Kingdom explained in these terms.32 To be sure, these observations raise serious questions for the so-called chronistic reward and punishment theology, an outlook usually connected with the speech of Shemaiah in 2 Chron. 12.5. While this matter will be addressed below,33 it is sufficient at this stage to emphasize that the positive characterization of Rehoboam is another – and perhaps among the most salient – of a series of seemingly unexplainable features in the Chronicler’s account of the secession. It is, however, probably not the most salient of all, since according to the text the divine decision to divide the kingdom was announced during the days of Solomon – the best possible period.34 Thus, the story of the secession in Chronicles abounds with instances in which common expectations of rational or normal behavior or evaluation are thwarted. All the main characters, including God, are directly implicated in seemingly unreasonable conduct, as is the Chronicler, too. Such an all-pervasive feature of the narrative cannot be dismissed as meaningless in any analysis, nor is there any reason to assume that the intended or primary readers of the Chronicler’s version of the secession were asked to do so, or actually did so. This ubiquitous and emphatic characterization of the events and characters provides, in fact, strong, textually inscribed indications about the particular construction of the secession story in Chronicles and the meaning(s) that this story may have communicated to its intended and primary rereaderships.35 In addition, these salient instances of seemingly logical incongruence served to call attention to particular issues and narrative or ideological tensions and to their possible resolutions (or lack thereof) within the ideological and narrative world of the book. Chronicles includes all the main historical facts about the secession that were agreed upon by the community within which and for which it was


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written. But these facts, even if taken from Kings, are now legitimizing elements in a new story, where they are repeatedly presented as seemingly unexplainable. When incomprehensible behavior is brought to the readers’ attention, the importance of explanation becomes a central point in the narrative. Within Chronicles – and particularly given the importance of the reported event in the memory of Israel – it becomes also a central point for theological reflection and historiographical considerations. 2. Explaining the Seemingly Unexplainable and Imagining the Deity The proleptic reference to prophecies or visions concerning Jeroboam, the son of Nebat, when his name is first mentioned (2 Chron. 9.29), already indicates that Jeroboam had a role in the divine plan. The seemingly unexplainable call of ‘all Israel’ to him serves to involve him in the narrative plot and in the fulfillment of that plan. Significantly, there is no reason to assume that within the world of the book those who called him were aware of his future role in YHWH’s plan. Thus, the seemingly unexplainable actions of ‘all Israel’ were necessary steps in the implementation of a divinely ordained design for Israel’s polities in a way unbeknown to them. The matter becomes explicit in 2 Chron. 10.15-16, where Rehoboam’s (illogical) acceptance of the words of the youths about him is explained as a turn of affairs dictated by YHWH. The explicit repetition of ‫לא שמע‬ ‫‘( המכך‬the king did not listen’) in vv. 15-16 emphasizes the narrator’s contention that such a divinely motivated action was the immediate reason for the North’s rejection of the Davidic dynasty.36 Within this context the explicit reference to the fulfillment of the divine decision revealed to Ahijah (v. 15) about Jeroboam suggests that from the Chronicler’s point of view, such a decision was already made in the days of Solomon.37 This determination by God involved not only a rebellion and rejection of the ‘house of David’ (both as a dynasty and as polity) but also the establishment of an additional Israelite polity and the active role of Jeroboam in the formative events of the latter. The divinely ordained character of the events is finally communicated to the main characters in 2 Chron. 11.4. Within the world of the narrative, the Solomonic kingdom was powerful militarily and should have been able to suppress the rebellion. At this point in the text, Rehoboam sets out to do what one would expect of such a monarch: he plans to attack the rebels. It is at this point in the narrative that he and those who remain loyal to him38 are explicitly told that the events were caused by YHWH and accordingly that they should not resort to force to change them.39 Significantly,

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now that they have learned about the divine plan and its fulfillment, they are given the choice of accepting it and obeying YHWH or of resisting YHWH and attempting to reunite the kingdom. They chose the former route, and this decision is central to the positive evaluation of Rehoboam, a point to which I will return. To recapitulate, divine causation is presented as the explanation for a turn of events that would have been unlikely had the characters behaved in a reasonable manner. The timing of the events, the selection of the main characters and the actions they take (contrary to what the first readers would expect from them) are all now explained in terms of YHWH’s control over the events.40 Instances of irrational behavior in the narrative serve to characterize a process through which YHWH’s plan for Israel’s polities became a ‘historical fact’. A few observations are in order at this point. The explanation of the events in terms of YHWH’s action probably seemed the most likely for this concentration of seemingly unexplainable human choices. It implies a theological understanding of YHWH as a deity who may cause people to behave irrationally. Such an understanding is attested elsewhere in the discourse(s) of the period.41 This explanation is also consistent with Chronicles’ demonstration of divine causation in history, namely as manifested by human deeds that achieve results that cannot be explained in ‘worldly terms’ (e.g., Asa’s victory over the million-man army of Zerah, the Cushite; see 2 Chron. 14.7-14). Still, it is worth stressing that of many memories of Israel’s past, Chronicles particularly and emphatically shapes the one about the secession as one in which the unexplainable in human terms is so pervasive, at all levels. For Chronicles, the secession was a most unlikely political and religious event, and at the same time, one of the utmost consequence. Chronicles’ explanation of the secession shows YHWH as one who made crucial decisions concerning Israel that were essentially beyond the expounding power reason of the Yehudite literati. It is worth underscoring that within this narrative it was during the golden age of Israelite history that YHWH decided that this glorious kingdom should be divided. Not only did the Chronicler depart from the explanation advanced in Kings, but he chose not to justify the divine decision. The Chronicler’s decision was intentional and communicated on one level that the historical event of the succession defies human reason. On another level, it revealed YHWH as a deity not bound by the limits of human reason or confined to what humans might predict. Thus, Chronicles reflects, shapes and communicates an understanding of history as a fully unpredictable affair at


125

times, because the deity governing history (and the fate of Israel) may act unpredictably. 3. Other Implications of the Chronicler’s Explanation of the Secession 3.1. A Theology of Seemingly Competing Claims That Inform and Balance Each Other Chronicles shapes and communicates a (hi)story of Israel’s past to instruct its intended readers in a number of theological matters, such as the meaning of history, YHWH’s requirements of human beings, individual responsibility, divine retribution and the like. The claim of the book to speak about these matters is grounded on the common assumption that YHWH governs the world according to principles (cf. Prov. 8.22) that may be learned from the results of divine activity, that is, from human history – as reconstructed by the Chronicler.42 I stressed elsewhere that reported attestations of events that are coherent with a particular theological principle were not meant to be understood as proofs that such a principle had absolute or universal validity. Quite the contrary, the Chronicler most often qualified these principles by pointing to instances in which competing principles were at work. Thus, the intended and primary rereaderships of the book were asked to imagine the world as a place in which a plethora of divine principles – sometimes at tension with each other – are at work, and accordingly construct a theological image of a deity in whose ‘mind’ different principles qualify each other. From a historiographical perspective, the result is a narrative in which similar human actions may lead to a variety of divinely ordained historical results.43 This multiplicity of possible historical results allowed relative flexibility in the articulation of explanations of events in Israel’s past, and in the lives of the audience as well.44 Such flexibility, however, serves to undermine the predictability of any event, since the same human ‘input’ may lead to drastically different historical results.45 The narrative fact that the secession of the Northern Kingdom was decided by YHWH during a highpoint in Israelite history (Solomon’s reign) dramatically balances or sets in proportion theological claims about a firm coherence between human actions and divinely ordained results.46 The story of the secession suggests that historical events may be unpredictable and people may behave in incomprehensible ways, and that incomprehensibility may extend to YHWH too. The reason for YHWH dictating this turn of events in Chronicles is not explained in Chronicles, though it is explainable within the usual theological world of Chronicles. There are

126


important implications to this observation. The readers of Chronicles are told that they may learn much about YHWH’s governing rules, desires and motives in governing history through their reading of the book. This is the reason for which they are asked to read the book to begin with. But they are also told that crucial aspects of their history should be simply accepted as YHWH’s will, even if these aspects seem to defy accepted theological reasoning. In other words, the story of the secession in Chronicles serves to inform and balance the main underlying epistemology on which the entire book is grounded, and surely, this removes any possible claim that it may have to categorical or universal validity. 3.2. Rehoboam’s Evaluation and its Implications Despite his actions during the events that led to the secession of northern Israel, the Chronicler advances a positive evaluation of Rehoboam during the first years of his reign (2 Chron. 12.1-5; cf. 11.17). Such an evaluation serves to highlight the unreasonable character of the rebellion of the North, but there is more than that to this evaluation. To be sure, the first time Rehoboam is given a chance to act with proper knowledge and volition (2 Chron. 11.2-4), he obeys YHWH and is blessed (11.5-23), but what about the time before Shemaiah’s speech? The Book of Chronicles suggests that Rehoboam could not be held personally responsible for his actions at that time in the narrative, since YHWH caused him to behave in such a way (10.15). This is, in fact, an expected theological stance. The importance of the theological concept of ‘warning’ in Chronicles – and other texts that eventually were included in the Hebrew Bible – hints at a perspective according to which people must be knowledgeable of YHWH’s will (or commandment) and be able to make a decision in order for them to be considered responsible for their actions, and judged accordingly.47 This being so, and if Rehoboam is not held personally responsible for his actions at the time, then what about the northern Israelites? When, in the world of the narrative, are they able to make informed choices and, therefore, be held responsible for their actions? Although the exact turningpoint in the story is somewhat unclear, the text evidently characterizes the period immediately following Jeroboam’s religious innovations (from the Chronicler’s perspective, at least) as one in which northern Israelites are described as being able to make a choice. Those who are pious leave Jeroboam’s polity and join Judah (2 Chron. 11.13-17). Thus, the text constructs a kind of negative boundary test, that is, a clear expression of what a pious Israelite should consider to be clearly inconsistent with obedience to YHWH and, therefore, absolutely unacceptable.


127

The text indicates that no Israelite should reject the exclusivity of the Jerusalemite temple, its personnel and associated elite,48 to do so is to reject the legitimate worship of YHWH, and so, to reject YHWH (2 Chron. 13.9-12). To be sure, the Chronicler’s message on these matters was directly relevant to the historical situation of the author and the first readers of the book in Achaemenid Yehud. I will return to this matter later. 3.3. Implications for How to Read History The secession of northern Israel is described in different terms in King Abijah’s war speech to the enemy forces (2 Chron. 13.3-12). The latter are identified again as Jeroboam and all Israel (13.4; cf. 10.3; 13.15; the expression ‫ ירבעם וכל ישראל‬appears only in these three verses), and within the world of the text, it is obvious that the speech is intended to dissuade the addressees from fighting Judah. The main persuasive appeal of the speech is based on two propositions. First, kingship was given by YHWH to David and his descendants and, conversely, YHWH’s kingdom is the Davidic polity, certainly not that headed by Jeroboam (13.5, 8). Thus, the enemy is fighting no less than YHWH’s own kingdom. Second, Jeroboam (and northern Israel) rejected the exclusive claims and traditions of the Jerusalemite temple, as well as its personnel and worship (11.13-17). Such actions are tantamount to forsaking YHWH (13.11, cf. v. 10).49 These two propositions lead to a logical conclusion: Jeroboam and all Israel are actually waging war against YHWH, and as such they cannot succeed (13.12). A retelling of the story of the secession is included in the speech to provide a kind of historical background to the situation and to support the main rhetorical claim of the speech. To be sure, such a retelling must be consistent with the facts of the events as known to the characters in the book – and as known to the first readers of the book – to be effective, and this strengthens the persuasive appeal of the speech. Thus, whereas the secession is associated, as expected, with Jeroboam and Rehoboam, for obvious rhetorical reasons Abijah does not tell Jeroboam and the northern Israelites, who outnumber him and are just about to engage in battle with him, that their rebellion against the house of David, the establishment of their own kingdom and even the choice of Jeroboam were all from YHWH. Had Abijah advanced such a claim, he would have seriously weakened the basic argument of his speech. In fact, within its narrative setting, such a claim would have been almost ludicrous, and the more so since this would have been the basic theological claim of

128


his enemies: that Jeroboam’s coronation and the establishment of the Northern Kingdom were supported by Israel’s deity,50 and accordingly, those who fight against Jeroboam and Israel are actually waging war against YHWH. In Chronicles, pious kings who deliver important speeches are characterized as good, powerful rhetors (cf. 2 Chron. 20.5-13). As such, Abijah has to sidestep skillfully the obvious fact that Jeroboam and Israel actually succeeded in the past, by either denying any lasting meaning to that success or by associating negative meanings with it, or both. So Abijah emphasizes first the totally contingent character of such a success: it just happened that at the time of the rebellion Rehoboam was ‘young and softhearted’ (‫)נער ורך לבב‬. By doing so, not only does he take away any claim for lasting significance of their earlier success, but strengthens the negative characterization of Jeroboam. He is presented now as a seditious servant who, only appropriately, paired with worthless scoundrels ( ‫אנשים רקים בני‬ ‫)בליעל‬, set resolutely (‫ )יתאמצו‬to take (unfair) advantage of a youth unfit for battle (cf. Deut. 20.8). Thus, in his retelling of the story, Abijah: (1) makes use of a common ancient Near Eastern understanding that slaves or servants who rebel and leave their masters are asocial characters that should be subdued, lest the fabric of society be weakened;51 (2) assigns shame rather than honor to Jeroboam’s success; (3) through his emphasis on Jeroboam and his scoundrels rhetorically disassociates ‘all Israel’ (that is, those who stand before him ready for battle) from the shameful reported actions and from their leader; and (4) connotes that Jeroboam’s success was due only to a temporary set of circumstances that no longer exist (2 Chron. 13.6-7), so as to implicitly state that his success should not be construed as a sign of YHWH’s support of him. The rest of the speech makes the case that those who stand against the Davidic king wage war against (not for) YHWH. The Chronicler, however, does more than just pen an excellent rhetorical speech. The attention of the primary readership is drawn to understand speeches within their setting in the history of Israel. Within Chronicles, Abijah’s speech does not negate or detract from the permanent value of the word of YHWH, such as that which came to Shemaiah (2 Chron. 11.24).52 Whereas the speech of Abijah serves its narrative purpose and portrays the king as a pious man, it provides neither an explanation for the continued existence of the Northern Kingdom for centuries after the speech, nor accounts for the separate existence of Yehud and Samaria in the Chronicler’s own day. It also does not explain Abijah’s actions after the defeat of Jeroboam and ‘all Israel’. The enduring significance of the divine


129

speech will be discussed in the next section, but it is worth noting that the recounting of the secession in 2 Chronicles 13 and its relation to the earlier point that the secession is from YHWH conveys a meta-narrative claim about how the readers are to receive the claims advanced in separate units within the work. Even if its theme and rhetoric are clearly contingent on its circumstances within the world of the narrative, the speech remains an integral part of Chronicles as a whole. The process of reading and rereading the book brings to the forefront an allusion created by the choice of words in the description of Rehoboam that goes beyond the immediate purposes of the speech in the book. Whereas Abijah portrays Rehoboam as an inexperienced, ‘tender’ youth, easy to take advantage of, the precise words that the Chronicler places in Abijah’s mouth, namely ‫נער ורך לבב‬, remind the readers of the only other personage to whom the precise phrase ‫ נער ורך‬is associated in Chronicles and in the entire Hebrew Bible, namely Solomon, and more precisely Solomon in relation to the construction of the temple (1 Chron. 22.5; 29.1). Of course, Abijah does not attempt to state in these circumstances that Rehoboam was a second Solomon, but his words carry in a way unbeknown to the character in the book a significance that becomes apparent to the reader. The comparison between Solomon and Rehoboam is not meant to emphasize the need for help from their respective parents (1 Chron. 22.5; 29.2-9), after all, within the world of Chronicles, Solomon left his son a kingdom ready to be governed, as one might expect a noble and pious ruler to do. The commonality between the two cases concerns the seemingly unexplainable behavior of YHWH and the power of divine decisions irrespective of human actions. The deity chooses and blesses Solomon with peace and the completion of the temple before Solomon could have ‘earned’ such a blessing. The choice of Solomon is YHWH’s alone and is neither explainable nor predictable within the usual patterns of the Chronicler’s historiography; it cannot be abstracted from them (1 Chron. 22.9), nor can it be derived at the time from any personal attribute of the king. The same may be said for the lasting division of the kingdom.53 3.4. The Word of YHWH to Shemaiah: Resolving Tension with Agreed Historical Facts and Implications for Yehud YHWH’s word to Shemaiah is brief but has pervasive and enduring implications. Not only does it state that the establishment of the Northern Kingdom is due to YHWH, but it also forbids the Judahite king from attacking the North to reassert control over it.54 This second aspect of the

130


divine communication solves a vexing historiographical and ideological problem in Chronicles. Not only did Rehoboam not attack the North, but no pious Judean king after him tried to do so in order to re-establish the Davidic–Solomonic kingdom, even when the narrative implies that such would have been possible. The most obvious example of this situation concerns Abijah, who (according to Chronicles) won a mighty victory over the North. In fact, the Chronicler notes that the northern Israelites were subdued (2 Chron. 13.18) and that Jeroboam never gained strength in the days of Abijah (13.20). But if such was the case, then why did Abijah take only three border cities – which not incidentally were most likely within the territory of Persian Yehud?55 Certainly, the Chronicler would have recognized that he could have brought the rebellion of Israel against the house of David and YHWH (2 Chron. 10.19; 13.5, 8) to an end at that moment. But the issue extends beyond Abijah. Chronicles reports that no Judahite king ever initiated a war aimed at reconquering Israel.56 This matter raises serious theological questions, because within the worldview of Chronicles, letting Israelites dwell in the Northern Kingdom is tantamount to letting them live outside the kingdom of YHWH (1 Chron. 17.14) and follow a sinful religious path. To be sure, the Chronicler could not have told readers that Judah annexed northern Israel and reconstituted the Davidic–Solomonic kingdom, since the corpus of facts about Israel’s history that was accepted by the Chronicler’s community would have simply preempted such a possibility. The word of YHWH to Shemaiah provides the requisite theological explanation. It is worth noting that the significance of the word of YHWH to Shemaiah does not vanish even after the destruction of the Northern Kingdom. To be sure, there is no possible theological need now to dethrone a non-Davidic king, but still the Judahite kings do not annex the North. The leading Judahite kings of the time, Hezekiah and Josiah, are characterized as rulers who encouraged northern Israelites to worship YHWH properly at Jerusalem, and they were largely successful in this endeavor, purging the North as well as the South from theologically improper cultic objects and installations (2 Chron. 30.1–31.1; 34.6-7). There is no doubt that within the world of Chronicles, both of these kings could have annexed the North. This is obviously true after such a major political and military success as Hezekiah’s defeat of Sennacherib,57 and elsewhere Chronicles notes their ability to go north and effect with popular support a purge of altars and bamot (2 Chron. 31.1; cf. 34.4).58 The theological gap created by the failure to reconstitute the Davidic–Solomonic


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kingdom under such circumstances is only underscored by the fact that Hezekiah and to some extent Josiah are portrayed in Chronicles in a way that is reminiscent of David or Solomon.59 Yet Chronicles informs its readers in numerous ways that neither Hezekiah nor Josiah became kings of a reconstituted ‘united kingdom’. First, nowhere is it stated that the elders or chiefs of the northern tribes crowned these Davidides as kings over them, or that the kings took such honors for themselves. Moreover, the relevant narratives about these kings in Chronicles consistently refer to them as kings of Judah (2 Chron. 30.24; 34.24, 26; cf. 32.8, 9, 23; 35.21). This appellative stands in clear contrast with the use of the term ‘king of Israel’ for David and Solomon in the same narrative (2 Chron. 29.27; 30.26; 35.3, 4; cf. 35.18 – which includes David and Solomon). Further, these narratives clearly imply that the polity over which these kings reign is the kingdom of Judah. For instance, they consult ‫ שרים‬who are clearly Judahite (see, among others, 2 Chron. 30.2, 6, 12, 24; 31.8; 32.3, 6; 35.8). When Chronicles describes Sennacherib’s attack against Hezekiah and Judah, there is no reference to any campaign against Northern Israel. When he dies, it is ‘all Judah and the inhabitants of Jerusalem’ who mourn him (2 Chron. 32.33; cf. 35.24 for Josiah). In addition, had there been a new Davidic kingdom in the historical narrative, when would it have narrowed to ‘Judah and Jerusalem’ alone? There is no account of a second loss of the North anywhere in Chronicles. Again the Chronicler could not have told the readers of the book that Hezekiah or Josiah annexed northern Israel and reconstituted the ‘united kingdom’. The corpus of facts about Israel’s history that were accepted by the community for which Chronicles was written would have simply preempted such a possibility from even being raised.60 The theological explanation – that the existence of a divided polity is from YHWH, and so it cannot be overcome by human hands – shapes the stories about two mighty, pious kings, who could have annexed the North but did not do so. Although these two kings did not annex the North, it is not the case that they did nothing for their northern kinsmen.61 As mentioned above, these pious rulers of Judah attempted to bring northern Israelites to worship YHWH properly at Jerusalem. They were at least partially successful in reuniting Israel as a correct worshiping community around the Jerusalemite temple, its ritual, claims, traditions and leadership. These historical narratives and the theological significance they assign to these events in the monarchic past carried substantial ideological implications for Achaemenid Yehud and particularly for its relations with Samaria and the Yahwistic traditions of the latter. If the ideological

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proposition that northern Israel is to Samaria as monarchic Judah is to Yehud is accepted,62 then two observations follow: (1) the Samarians are Israel, and (2) their polity is separate from Yehud and should remain that way, because it is YHWH’s will. Yehud should not attempt to conquer and incorporate the North or any portion thereof,63 even if this were possible,64 and Yehud should also not attempt to build any alliances with the North.65 Discourses about inviting the northern Israelites/Samarians to follow the LORD and, accordingly, to accept the exclusive role of the Jerusalemite temple are not only possible, but also commendable. But to be sure, these discourses carried a strong geo-political dimension. If the northerners dwelling outside the province of Yehud lived in a polity that allowed their full acceptance of the Jerusalemite temple ideology and ritual, then they may remain in their own towns (2 Chron. 31.1),66 but if this is not the case, just as during the time of the secession and for all the independent existence of northern Israel, then pious Israelites must move to Yehud and fortify it (2 Chron. 13.13-17).67 To remain in the North under these conditions is tantamount to forsaking YHWH and so makes them liable to divine punishment (cf. 2 Chron. 30.6-9). Therefore, the concept of ‘all Israel’ here leads to a theological demand that the Samarians Yehuditize themselves and to a threat of divine punishment if they fail to do so. In the actual world of the primary readership of Chronicles, neither the Samarian center of power nor most Samarians would Yehuditize themselves or agree with the exclusive, Jerusalemcentered position advanced here. Within the worldview of Chronicles, the Samarian positions and actions would bring the wrath of YHWH against them. But even so, the political secession of northern Israel, along with all its implications, was due to YHWH, and it was not supposed to be overcome by human hands or words.68 3.5. Shechem, Jerusalem, and Persian Period Yehud The first unexplainable decision in the story of the secession was the selection of Shechem over Jerusalem as the place for coronation. To be sure, the reference to Shechem was also among the core facts from which the Chronicler could not deviate. References that are a discursive necessity, however, do not lose meaning. Instead, they gain meaning within the narrative. Although in Chronicles Shechem is mentioned only here and in 1 Chron. 6.52 (EVV v. 67) and 7.28, it is likely that the literati in Achaemenid Yehud would have been aware of the traditional and religious significance of Shechem and the associated Mt Gerizim. To be sure, for Jerusalemite


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readers in the Hellenistic period – and for Roman period Samaritans and Jews – the symbolic polarity of Shechem/Mt Gerizim and Jerusalem/Mt Zion was an important theological component of some of their discourses,69 and sometimes it deeply affected politics as well.70 Even if Chronicles was written before the Hellenistic period and so before the building of the Samarian/Samaritan temple,71 there is positive proof of strong pre-existing Samarian traditions associated with Mt Gerizim/Shechem.72 The Yehudite literati who lived in the Achaemenid period were well aware of these traditions. In fact, some traditions about the sacral role of Shechem were included in their own literature (e.g., Gen. 12.6-7; 33.18-20; Josh. 24.1, 25).73 Chronicles could not have advanced spatial settings of the secession different from those agreed upon by the community any more than it could have changed the temporal settings. Lack of malleability regarding these facts necessarily led to the reference to Shechem in 2 Chron. 10.1. But whereas the choice of Shechem as the meeting place for the assembly is clearly understandable within the (hi)story narrated in Kings – and there it is due at least in the main to political considerations – the situation in Chronicles is vastly different. In the latter, a cultic connotation and above all an unexplainable dimension to the selection of the city come to the forefront. The readers of Chronicles are left to deal not only with the question of why YHWH caused the secession, but also of why YHWH made an anti-Jerusalem possible, an institution that could only lead Israel astray. The book’s response is that the answer to this question is with YHWH, but beyond the reach of the Yehudite literati, including, of course, the author of Chronicles and its first readers. Endnotes * This chapter is a slightly modified version of a contribution that was first published as ‘The Secession of the Northern Kingdom in Chronicles: Accepted “Facts” and New Meanings’, in M.P. Graham, S.L. McKenzie and G.N. Knoppers (eds.), The Chronicles as Theologian: Essays in Honor of Ralph W. Klein (JSOTSup, 371; London: T&T Clark, 2003), pp. 61-88. May this contribution continue to honor Professor Ralph W. Klein, an inspiring scholar of the book of Chronicles. I wish to express my gratitude to T&T Clark International/Continuum Press for allowing me to republish this essay in the present volume. 1. Given that the book was read, studied, copied and maintained by the community, the assumption is that the intended readership was relatively similar to the primary readership. It bears note that this readership was actually a rereadership, since the book was meant to be read and reread. From a social perspective, it is obvious that the primary target and actual readership of the book consisted of the relatively few bearers of high literacy in Yehud, that is, its literati.

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2. On these matters see also Chapter 4, and my ‘Malleability and its Limits: Sennacherib’s Campaign against Judah as a Case Study’, in L.L. Grabbe (ed.), ‘Bird in a Cage’: The Invasion of Sennacherib in 701 BCE (JSOTSup, 363; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2003), pp. 73-105. 3. It is to be stressed that facts agreed upon within a particular community (e.g., Achaemenid Yehud) do not have to be ‘historical facts’ in the contemporary sense of the term. For the present discussion the question of whether there was a secession of the North that in any manner resembled the memory of the past upheld in Achaemenid Yehud – or in Roman times, for that matter – is immaterial. What is important for the present study is how the later generations construed the memory of the past, the story they told themselves about their own past, whether it is historical in our terms or not at all. 4. As far as it concerns Chronicles, there is no difference between the terms ‘theological’ and ‘ideological’. Hereafter, the two terms will be used interchangeably. 5. By the ‘Chronicler’ I mean the implied author of the book of Chronicles, as construed by its intended and most likely primary rereaders. These rereaders were asked to read the (hi)story narrated in the book. The voice of this implied author carried for them a single narrative that included what we would call the parallel and non-parallel accounts. To be sure, the rereaders of the book read and reread it within a world of information that included the stories of the book of Kings – or a very close forerunner of the work as it has survived – but they certainly were asked to read and study the book of Chronicles as it was. It is to be stressed that the ‘Chronicler’ so defined speaks with the voice of the book as a whole, and not with the voice of the non-parallel accounts alone. It bears note that the non-parallel accounts never existed as a literary unit or as a ‘book’ in their own right, and as such never advanced a request to be read as such. 6. Cf. A.C. Danto, Narration and Knowledge (New York: Columbia University Press, 1985), esp. pp. 11-14. 7. Rehoboam is the first individual explicitly called ‘king of Judah’ in Chronicles, and he is called such by YHWH and at a crucial moment in the narrative (2 Chron. 11.3; cf. ‫ את מלכות יהודה‬in 11.17). See section 2 below. 8. For agreed-upon core facts of the history of the Northern Kingdom other than the story of its birth, see my previous work, ‘Shifting the Gaze: Historiographic Constraints in Chronicles and their Implications’, in M.P. Graham and J.A. Dearman (eds.), The Land That I Will Show You: Essays on the History and Archaeology of the Ancient Near East in Honor of J. Maxwell Miller (JSOTSup, 343; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 2001), pp. 38-60, as well as ‘The House of Omri/Ahab in Chronicles’, a paper presented at the European Seminar for Historical Methodology, European Association for Biblical Studies, Rome, August 2001, and to be published in L.L. Grabbe, Ahab Agonistes: The Rise and Fall of the Omri Dynasty (LHBOTS; ESHM; London: T&T Clark, forthcoming). 9. By the time of the composition of Chronicles there were cultural and social norms that favored the literary use of imitation. The imitation of writings considered to be ‘classical’ works by the community served to provide a sense of worth and legitimacy to the new work. On the use of imitation in the Hebrew Bible – including examples


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from Chronicles – see J. Van Seters, ‘Creative Imitation in the Hebrew Bible’, SR 29 (2000), pp. 395-405. 10. See, for instance, L. Hölscher, ‘The New Annalistic: A Sketch of a Theory of History’, History and Theory 36 (1997), pp. 317-35, as well as the works mentioned above in n. 2, along with the bibliography cited in them. 11. See G.N. Knoppers, ‘Rehoboam in Chronicles: Villain or Victim?’, JBL 109 (1990), pp. 423-40, (429 and 430). The article deals also with the meaning of the event within the book of Kings. 12. The term carries sacral or ritual connotations in Chronicles. 13. For analyses of these verses, see, e.g., H.G.M. Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles (NCBC; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1982), pp. 186-88. 14. The parallel text in 1 Kgs 12.3 reads ‫וכל קהל ישראל‬. Cf. W. Johnstone, 1 and 2 Chronicles. II. 2 Chronicles 10-36. Guilt and Atonement (JSOTSup, 254; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997), p. 24. 15. Certainly, this is not the position of Chronicles, in which the first thing that David did, as king of all Israel, was to conquer Jerusalem and the main accomplishment of the Davidic–Solomonic period was the establishment of the temple. 16. Shechem is mentioned elsewhere in the book only in 1 Chron. 6.52 and 7.28, and in neither case does the reference appear as particularly important. The readers of Chronicles, however, were most likely aware of the city, its importance in their religious traditions and its association with the province of Samaria. Yet, all these connections make the choice of Shechem even more conspicuous. On Shechem and Jerusalem, see also section 3.5 below. 17. King Jeroboam in 1 Chron. 5.17 is King Jeroboam II. 18. Here Chronicles deviates from Kings. There is no reference to these works in the ‘parallel’ verse, 1 Kgs 11.41. The question of whether the Chronicler identifies Jeddi with Iddo (‫)עדו‬, mentioned in 2 Chron. 12.15 and 13.22, has no bearing on the matters discussed here. The same holds true for the question of whether the sources mentioned in 2 Chron. 9.29 (and similar sources mentioned in Chronicles) ever existed, and if so, whether they were available to the Chronicler and the first readers. On these matters, see, among many others, M. Noth, The Chronicler’s History (JSOTSup, 50; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1987), esp. pp. 53-54; S.J. de Vries, 1 and 2 Chronicles (FOTL, XI; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1989), p. 273; and contrast with A.F. Rainey, ‘The Chronicler and his Sources – Historical and Geographical’, in M.P. Graham, K.G. Hoglund and S.L. McKenzie (eds.), The Chronicler as Historian (JSOTSup, 238; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997), pp. 30-72, esp. 39-40. See also Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles, pp. 236-37, cf. pp. 17-21. 19. Contrast with 1 Kgs 11.26-28. 20. To be sure, it was easy to answer this question from the perspective of the book of Kings, but although the readers of Chronicles were probably aware of that work, they are not asked to consult it but rather the book of Chronicles. 21. The narrative characterizes Jeroboam as an individual who fled from the pious Solomon to Egypt (2 Chron. 10.2). Within the world of Chronicles, to have rebelled against Solomon is tantamount to being characterized as a wrongdoer. 22. The book of Kings presents two contradictory images of the reign of Solomon regarding forced labor. See 1 Kgs 5.27-32 (EVV vv. 13-18); 11.28 and contrast with 1 Kgs

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9.20-22. Chronicles takes up the reconstruction of the past suggested by the latter pericope and rejects that advanced by all the other references and the main narrative in the book. On the relation between the two accounts, see, for instance, I. Kalimi, The Reshaping of Ancient Israelite History in Chronicles (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2005), pp. 39-40, 67-68, 369-70; A. Siedlecki, ‘Foreigners, Warfare and Judahite Identity in Chronicles’, in M.P. Graham and S.L. McKenzie (eds.), The Chronicler as Author: Studies in Text and Texture (JSOTSup, 263; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1999), pp. 229-66, esp. 252-53; cf. Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles, pp. 201-202. 23. See ‫( ומן בני ישראל אשר לא נתן שלמה לעבדים למלאכתו‬2 Chron. 8.9). In other words, the Chronicler does not have Solomon force Israelites to become laborers. Of course, he still needed the labor, but for that purpose he drew from the 153,600 non-Israelites who were sojourning (notice the language of 2 Chron. 2.16a) in the land. Although such policies may be comparable to those of the oppressive pharaoh of Exodus (excluding the killing of the males), it is self-evident that Chronicles did not evaluate Solomon’s policies in negative terms. The exact opposite is true. This case is particularly interesting given the general tendency of Chronicles on the matter of nonIsraelites (e.g., God may convey divine messages through them; they may serve as quasi-prophets; cases of intermarriage between them and Israelites tend to be reported as a matter of fact and the offspring accepted within Israel). The matter, however, is beyond the scope of this contribution and deserves a separate study. 24. The response attributed to the elders in v. 7 follows the common motif of a king who deals with his subjects kindly and thus secures their support. The wording of the response is obviously based on but significantly deviates from that of its source, 1 Kgs 12.7 (on the folkloristic feature of the latter, see B.O. Long, 1 Kings [FOTL, IX; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1984], p. 135). 25. Of course, there might be here a faint echo of the theme of the counsel of elders as opposed to the counsel of able-bodied men in Gilgamesh and Aga. But Rehoboam is no Gilgamesh; the youths around him are not the able-bodied men of Gilgamesh; rejecting the advice of the elders does not lead to victory here; and the advice of the youths is plainly unreasonable, for reasons outlined above. If anything, there is here a reversal of the theme that is echoed, and this serves to re-emphasize the wisdom of following the counsel of the elders. 26. To be sure, it is not reported that he repeated these comments in public, as was suggested to him, but he did accept the advice of those who so referred to his father, and it is not reported that he distanced himself from the comment that shamed his father. In fact, the context seems to suggest that he identified with the gist of that comment. ‘Loins’ (‫ )מתנים‬here signifies strength (cf. Isa. 45.1; Nah. 2.2). Claims of kings that their fathers who preceded them on the throne have been powerless or ineffectual are not unheard of in the ancient Near East (see Kilamuwa), but they require a supporting context. Within the context of Chronicles such a claim borders on the absurd. 27. The king’s action may also have been intended to humiliate Jeroboam by confronting him with his former superior (1 Kgs 11.28) and an elder statesman. Social connotations of shame and honor are deeply intertwined, of course, in this literary report. 28. It is theoretically possible to read the complaint of ‘all Israel’ about their forced labor, as an expression of their identification with the oppressed non-Israelite gerîm


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upon whom heavy labor was forced. But it is unlikely that the first readers of Chronicles read the book in this way and accordingly lionized ‘all Israel’ (cf. Exod. 22.20; 23.9; Lev. 19.34; Deut. 10.19) and condemned Solomon. Certainly, the Chronicler did not support such a reading, and it is likely that the readers associated forced labor and foreignness in the land, and perhaps even linked the latter with the rejection of Jerusalem, temple and David. 29. On the meaning of the name ‫אדנירם‬/‫אדרם‬, see J.D. Fowler, Theophoric Personal Names in Ancient Hebrew (JSOTSup, 49; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1988), pp. 29, 53, 80. 30. On these matters, see, for instance, HALOT, s.v. ‫ ;הדורם‬Johnstone, 1 and 2 Chronicles, II, p. 29. 31. In addition, 2 Chron. 11.17 strongly contributes to the characterization of Rehoboam as a pious king in his first years, and the same holds true for his acceptance of YHWH’s word soon after his succession (2 Chron. 11.2-4). M. Cogan (‘The Chronicler’s Use of Chronology as Illuminated by Neo-Assyrian Royal Inscriptions’, in J.H. Tigay [ed.], Empirical Models for Biblical Criticism [Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1985], pp. 197-209) maintains that the reference to three years in 2 Chron. 11.17 is typological and points to a short period of time (see esp. pp. 207-209). Even if this were so (which is doubtful), Rehoboam would have been evaluated as a good monarch in the first period of his reign. For the positive characterization of Rehoboam at this time (despite 2 Chron. 12.14), see Knoppers, ‘Rehoboam in Chronicles’, and cf. P. Welten, Geschichte und Geschichtsdarstellung in den Chronikbüchern (WMANT, 42; Neukirchen–Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1973), p. 127. It is worth stressing that in sharp contrast with Kings, the first four kings of Judah are characterized in a generally positive manner, or at the very least in a far more positive manner in Chronicles. All of them – except Abijah – are characterized as having negative periods, but for most of their reigns they are characterized in positive terms. (D.G. Deboys [‘History and Theology in the Chronicler’s portrayal of Abijah’, Bib 71 (1990), pp. 4862] maintains that the Chronicler’s portrayal of Abijah is generally positive, but somewhat reserved.) 32. This observation further undermines any explanation of the secession in terms of Rehoboam’s wrongdoing from the time of Solomon’s death to the assembly in Shechem. Moreover, the shift from a period of unfaithfulness to one of faithfulness tends to be explicitly marked in Chronicles by appropriate references (e.g., 2 Chron. 12.5-7), none of which occur until well after the assembly met at Shechem. Hence, there is no reason to assume that the Chronicler exempted this early period from the positive evaluation of Rehoboam. For an alternative view, see S. Japhet, The Ideology of the Book of Chronicles and its Place in Biblical Thought (BEATAJ, 9; Frankfurt am Main: P. Lang, 2nd rev. edn, 1997), p. 162 n. 477, where the author writes, ‘only Rehoboam’s actions are responsible for the division [of the kingdom]’. Chronicles, however, does not state that anywhere. On the contrary, 2 Chron. 10.15 (cf. 9.29) makes her position untenable. Japhet supports her viewpoint by suggesting that one should dismiss 2 Chron. 10.15 as ‘an inconsistent holdover of 1 Kings 12.15’ (p. 162 n. 477). But even if, for the sake of argument, one were to consider the possibility that the actual – to be distinguished from the implied – author of the book of Chronicles was suddenly – though momentarily – inattentive and simply copied this verse from Kings, the text surely does not invite its readers to dismiss this verse. Japhet’s position

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on this matter seems derivative of her claim ‘the book’s [Chronicles] outlook may be defined in Ezekiel’s words: “the righteousness of the righteous shall be upon himself, and the wickedness of the wicked shall be upon himself”… Each generation is responsible for its deeds and for its own fate’ (p. 162). Although Chronicles shows many accounts in which these principles apply, it also shows those in which they do not. A few obvious examples may suffice: YHWH’s choice of Solomon cannot be the result of any pious deeds of the king (1 Chron. 22.9-10; cf. 28.5-7; 29.1); numerous people died because of the sin of David (1 Chron. 21.4); prophets were punished (sometimes executed), because they faithfully proclaimed divine messages (2 Chron. 16.10; 24.20-22); the principle that each generation is responsible for its own fate certainly contradicts the reported situation of the generations that were born and died during the 70 years announced by Jeremiah (2 Chron. 36.20-21; and for intergenerational punishment, see also 2 Chron. 29.6-9). I have argued elsewhere that one cannot safely conclude from texts in Chronicles in which a certain theological principle seems to be governing the narrative that such a principle applies universally in the work. The book advances a balanced approach in which implicit statements about YHWH’s way of governing history in one section are set in ‘proportion’ by those implicitly advanced elsewhere. See Chapter 8 in this volume. See also below. (It should be noted that in a more recent work Japhet approached the issue of the reasons for the secession in a different manner, but still mainly on the basis of 2 Chronicles 13. See S. Japhet, I and II Chronicles [OTL; Louisville, KY; Westminster/John Knox Press, 1993], esp. p. 657.) Welch advances the claim that ‘in his [the Chronicler’s] judgment there were good reasons for Israel having refused to endure the rule of the Judean king [Rehoboam], but when the breach was final…he went on to describe in his own terms a war which broke out between Abijah and Jeroboam (II. Chron. c. xiii)…’ In other words, the secession was justifiable during the reign of a king such as Rehoboam. See A.C. Welch, PostExilic Judaism (The Baird Lecture, 1934; Edinburgh: W. Blackwood & Sons, 1935), p. 190. Williamson (1 and 2 Chronicles, esp. pp. 238, 251) also seems to echo this approach. It is worth noting, however, that even if one were to argue that the purported weakness of Rehoboam that is mentioned in 2 Chron. 13.7 (or his sinful character at the time of the secession) could have been considered a reason for Israel’s rebellion, then such a ‘reason’ certainly disappeared well before the battle of Zemarim, according to Chronicles. On 2 Chronicles 13 see section 3.3 below. 33. For a different approach, according to which the ‘the reworking of the material [in Chronicles] preserves…the firm belief in divine recompense on an individual basis’, see A. Frisch, ‘Jeroboam and the Division of the Kingdom: Mapping Contrasting Biblical Accounts’, JANESCU 27 (2000), pp. 15-29, esp. 21. 34. See 2 Chron. 10.15. Not only is it that Ahijah, the Shilonite, is associated with the reign of Solomon in Chronicles (2 Chron. 9.29 and contrast with 12.15), but the word of YHWH had to be proclaimed before the secession itself, i.e., during the reign of Solomon. Chronicles was bound to maintain the basic facts agreed upon within the community, which included the fact that Ahijah announced the relevant divine decision. The text shows also the degree of freedom permitted to an author with regard to the transmission of accepted traditions: while the basic meaning of the words of YHWH to Ahijah had to be maintained and so its temporal setting (i.e., during Solomon’s reign), the reasons for the event and the attendant circumstances were


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historiographically malleable. On the differentiation between ‘core’ facts that are not malleable and malleable facts, see my previous work, ‘Malleability and its Limits’. 35. To be sure, this feature could be eliminated from Chronicles if one were to bring into Chronicles all the material in Kings that the Chronicler decided not to include. But from the fact that Chronicles was read within a world of knowledge that included Kings, it does not follow that Chronicles was not to have been read as work on its own. Although the first readers of Chronicles were surely aware of the contents of the book of Kings, they were never asked not to read (and so to reject) the (hi)story narrated in Chronicles. The very opposite is true: the readers of Chronicles were obviously asked to read, reread and accept the value of the narrative in the book of Chronicles, even if – and perhaps more emphatically when – it stood in tension with other narratives that existed within the community. Cf. R. Mosis, Untersuchungen zur Theologie des chronistischen Geschichtswerkes (FTS, 92; Freiburg: Herder, 1973), p. 169 n. 2. Further, one should take into account the typical way that Chronicles advances positions contrary to those in Kings (or in the so-called deuteronomistic history): to omit details from the source texts and then to create a new story either by including information that is not mentioned in Kings or by setting the details in different contexts. There are good rhetorical reasons for the preference of this way of creating alternative images of the past over simple denials of the historicity of events reported in Kings. 36. See 2 Chron. 21.7 and 2 Kgs 8.19. 37. See also section 3, below. 38. The narrator now refers to ‘Rehoboam, king of Judah’ and to ‘all Israel in Judah and Benjamin’. The expression ‘king of Judah’ appears here for the first time in the historical narrative (it appeared in the genealogical section of the book, in 1 Chron. 4.41 and 5.17, but there it pointed to kings who reigned later than Rehoboam; the same holds true for 1 Chron. 9.1). As for ‘Israel’, it is now often an ideological term encompassing those who lived in both the northern and the southern polities. 39. There is, of course, the reference to the northern populace as ‫‘( אחיכם‬your kindred’), but the prohibition of attacking them was not based on kinship, but on the fact that ‘this matter was brought about by me [YHWH]’ (‫)מאתי נהיה הדבר הזה‬. 40. These include: Israel and Rehoboam’s preference of Shechem over Jerusalem; Israel’s call to Jeroboam; the manner in which a patently false (according to Chronicles, but not according to Kings) claim about Solomon’s hard yoke on Israel is immediately and widely accepted by both sides; and, above all, Rehoboam’s rejection of the advice of the elders in favor of that of the youths, which immediately leads to Israel’s rejection of the house of David. 41. Cf. Exod. 8.11, 28; 9.34-35; 10.1; Isa. 6.10; and esp. 2 Chron. 25.19-20 (note the opening phrase in v. 20, ‫)ולא שמע‬. 42. See Chapter 11 in this volume. 43. These results include some that would be clearly inconsistent with divine principles, had they been understood as separate and universally valid. These results serve as proof positive that these principles were not understood in that manner. 44. On these matters, see Chapters 2 and 8 in this volume. 45. Similar concerns appear elsewhere in the Hebrew Bible. See E. Ben Zvi, Signs of Jonah: Reading and Rereading in Ancient Yehud (JSOTSup, 367; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2003), passim.

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46. For a discussion of other texts serving the same theological purpose, see Chapter 8. For examples of texts that advance a direct coherence between human action and divine reward, see 2 Chron. 12.2, 5; 14.6; 28.6. The Chronicler’s theological position is one in which these claims are intertwined, informed and balanced by reports of instances in which this principle of coherence is not maintained at all by YHWH. 47. See the excellent discussion in Japhet, Ideology, pp. 183-90. 48. Significantly, this theological construct, which includes temple and the elite, is directly associated with the ‘path of David and Solomon’ (2 Chron. 11.17). 49. Although the second argument is given more narrative space than the first, the two are clearly interwoven. See the reference to ‘the path of David and Solomon’ in 2 Chron. 11.17. 50. ‘Usurpers’ surely claimed divine legitimacy for their rule, their polities, and their cultic innovations (or reforms) in the ancient Near East. 51. See R.J. Ratner, ‘Jonah, the Runaway Servant’, Maarav 5-6 (1990), pp. 281-305. 52. The expression ‫ ויהי דבר יהוה‬is uncommon in Chronicles, appearing only here and in 1 Chron. 22.8, which contains another central statement. 53. It should be noted that Rehoboam is described as behaving in an unreasonable manner in 2 Chronicles 10, but not as an irresolute, ‘soft-hearted’ king. If anything, one may think that his heart hardened, so as to contribute to the fulfillment of YHWH’s designs. See the discussion above in section 2. Rehoboam’s sending of the taskmaster to confront Israel has nothing to do with being irresolute (see above) nor is the choice of words in 2 Chron. 10.18bβ consistent with such a characterization. Verbal forms of ‫ אמץ‬in the hithpael point to resolute action (2 Chron. 10.18; Ruth 1.8). According to the narrative, facing the outburst of open rebellion, surrounded now by an enemy who has just killed his representative and will certainly kill him if he is caught (they were ‘resolutely’ against him; see 2 Chron. 13.7), he mounts the chariot and flees to his capital to organize his troops and quash the rebellion (2 Chron. 11.1). He is never condemned for this action; in fact, this would have been the expected behavior of a resolute monarch under these conditions. For a different position, see Japhet, I and II Chronicles, p. 692. 54. The expression ‫ ויאסר אביה את המלחמה‬in 2 Chron. 13.3 indicates that once the two armies met, Abijah took the initiative to begin the battle (cf. 1 Kgs 20.14). However, in the context of this story his main initiative was to utter his speech to the enemy troops, so as to avoid the battle altogether (it is unlikely that the Chronicler was describing him as delivering the speech to them in the midst of the battle). In any case, one cannot learn from Abijah’s initiative in 2 Chron. 13.3 that the Judean king should be construed as the one who initiated the hostilities. In fact, this campaign resembles others in which a pious king is tested by an enemy attack (e.g., 2 Chron. 14.8-14; see Deboys, ‘Abijah’, pp. 49-50). The speech and the great disparity between the two forces contribute to the characterization of Jeroboam as the aggressor. Abijah is, therefore, neither advancing a policy contrary to that of Rehoboam nor rejecting YHWH’s word that came to Shemaiah, since self-defense was not prohibited. Of course, according to Chronicles, despite all military preparations the enemy will be much larger than Judah’s army, and the fate of Judah will depend on whether the nation turns to YHWH for help. This word of YHWH prohibited Rehoboam (and any other king) from attacking the North to reunite the parts of the kingdom. Its lasting importance is never


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abrogated in Chronicles. For a different perspective, see Japhet, I and II Chronicles, p. 689. 55. See the obvious example of Bethel (cf. Ezra 2.28//Neh. 7.32). It is worth noting that this is the last time Bethel is mentioned by name in Chronicles. The other two cities, Jeshanah and Ephron, are mentioned in 2 Chron. 13.19 but then nowhere else in Chronicles. It is likely that the area was included within the territory of Josianic Judah, whose northern border was probably similar to the eventual border between the provinces of Samaria and Yehud. 56. The Chronicler explicitly describes Jeroboam and Baasha as those who took the initiative in Israelite-Judahite wars. The only Judahite king who precipitates war with the North is Amaziah, who took this ‘unreasonable’ step only because YHWH caused him to do so (2 Chron. 25.17-20, esp. v. 20). Since Abijah’s adversaries are his ‘kinsmen’, he attempts to avoid the battle. 57. The fact that historically Senacherib defeated Hezekiah has no bearing on the issue advanced here. Within the world of the narrative, not only did Hezekiah defeat Sennacherib, but he was ‘exalted in the eyes of all the nations’ and many brought him tribute (2 Chron. 32.23). But if so, why did he not annex the North? 58. Compare 2 Chron. 34.4 with 2 Kgs 23.15-20. It is worth noting that 2 Chron. 30.25 and 34.7 refer to the geographical territory that comprises both the North and the South as ‘the land of (all) Israel’ (‫)ארץ ישראל‬. This reference conveys an important ideological message regarding the land, as it goes beyond the actual extent of the territory of the Judahite polity. The text also alludes to 1 Chron. 13.2 (and to David) and may be seen as a veiled critique of David’s treatment of the gerîm (1 Chron. 22.2). Cf. H.G.M. Williamson, Israel in the Books of Chronicles (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1977), pp. 123-24. 59. E.g., 2 Chron. 29.2, 25, 26; 30.1, 5 (cf. 1 Chron. 21.2), 26. For a summary of the scholarly debate on whether the Chronicler portrays Hezekiah in terms of David or Solomon or both, see M.A. Throntveit, When Kings Speak: Royal Speech and Royal Prayer in Chronicles (SBLDS, 93; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1987), pp. 121-25; idem, ‘The Relationship of Hezekiah to David and Solomon in the Books of Chronicles’, in Graham, et al. (eds.), Chronicler as Theologian, pp. 105-21. 60. Kings does not claim that either Hezekiah or Josiah annexed the former Northern Kingdom. In this regard, its claim is consistent with historical facts as we know them. For the most likely reconstruction of Josianic Judah, see N. Na’aman, ‘The Kingdom of Judah under Josiah’, TA 18 (1991), pp. 3-71, and the recent discussion in L. L. Grabbe (ed.), Good Kings and Bad Kings (LHBOTS, 393; ESHM, 5; London: T&T Clark, 2005). 61. On the literary and ideological transformation of Israel when this kingdom ceased to exist, see also Chapters 7 and 11. 62. It holds true in almost all cases, but there are a few instances of ‘boundary trangressions’. In 2 Chron. 28.9-15, for example, the Yehudite readers of Chronicles are asked to identify themselves with pious Israelites rather than Judahites. 63. The northern Israelite territories that pious Judahite kings were allowed to conquer and rule were within the borders of Achaemenid Yehud (e.g., Bethel). Cities outside these territories (e.g., Samaria and Shechem) were never conquered by a Judahite king.

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64. Historical circumstances in Yehud preempted such a possibility, but the existence of an Israelite non-Yehud (i.e., Samaria) and above all that of an ideologically construed anti-Jerusalem (i.e., Shechem; see section 3.5) demanded a theological explanation in Chronicles. 65. On the undesirability of alliances with the North, see G.N. Knoppers, ‘ “YHWH Is Not with Israel”: Alliances as a Topos in Chronicles’, CBQ 58 (1996), pp. 601-26, esp. 612-22, 624. 66. Notice the key ideological demand that Hezekiah advances in 2 Chron. 30.8: ‘Yield yourselves to the LORD and come to his sanctuary [i.e., Jerusalem], which he has sanctified forever, and serve the LORD your God’ (NRSV, my emphasis). Northern Israel must acknowledge that it is impossible to serve YHWH by worshipping at any sanctuary other than the Jerusalemite temple. Thus, the Chronicler erects the boundaries within which a Jerusalemite-centered diaspora may exist. The issue is of central theological importance and deserves a separate study, which I plan to carry out in the future. 67. Chronicles allows for exceptional cases such as Elijah, who remains in the North but is attentive to the Davidic kings and notes how they have gone astray by imitating and even surpassing his own kings in evildoing. The Elijah of Chronicles does not interact with the dynasty of Ahab but with the Davidic kings of Jerusalem (2 Chron. 21.12-15). 68. At a later period, the Hasmoneans clearly rejected this theological stance. 69. See, for instance, I. Kalimi, Early Jewish Exegesis and Theological Controversy. Studies in Scriptures in the Shadow of Internal and External Controversies (Aasen: Van Gorcum, 2002), pp. 33-58. Strongly worded, negative comments about the people of Shechem (or Samarians/Samaritans) abound in Jerusalemite literature from the Hellenistic period (e.g., Sir. 50.25-26). 70. The most obvious and dramatic case is the destruction of the Samarian/Samaritan temple by John Hyrcanus I (Josephus, Ant. 13.254-65; War 1.62-63). 71. The date of the building of the Samarian/Samaritan temple is a matter of debate. The usually proposed dates span from late-fourth century to early-second century BCE. For a summary of positions and reference to the main studies on the matter, see Kalimi, Early Jewish Exegesis, pp. 54-56. This summary should now take into account the new archaeological data concerning Mt Gerizim. See especially Y. Magen, ‘Mt. Gerizim: A Temple City’, Qadmontiot 33/120 (2000), pp. 74-118. See also E. Stern and Y. Magen, ‘The First Phase of the Samaritan Temple on Mt. Gerizim – New Archaelogical Evidence’, Qadmoniot 33/120 (2000), pp. 74-118. The process of rebuilding the city of Shechem began by the late-fourth century (Stratum IV). The city had become a major urban center in the Ptolemaic period (Stratum III). For a summary of the archaeological evidence and the main works on the matter, see E.F. Campbell, ‘Shechem’, in NEAEHL, IV, pp. 1345-54, and J.E. Seger, ‘Shechem’, in E.M. Meyers (ed.), Oxford Encyclopaedia of Archaeology in the Near East (5 vols.; New York: Oxford University Press, 1997), V, pp. 19-23. 72. See also S. Talmon, ‘Biblical Traditions Concerning the Beginning of Samaritan History’, Eretz Shomron (Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1973), pp. 9-33; F.M. Cross, ‘Samaria and Jerusalem during the Persian Period’, in H. Eshel, Y. Magen, et al. (eds.), The Samaritans (Jerusalem: Yad Ben-Zvi Press, 2002; Hebrew), pp. 45-70.


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73. The matter raises the issue of whether we might here too encounter a case of ‘facts’ upon which the community agrees, whose significance may be revisited but not their ‘factuality’. But other alternative or complementary explanations can be advanced, and the whole issue is, of course, beyond the scope of this contribution. It is worth noting, however, that there are also several negative traditions associated with Shechem in the literature accepted as authoritative by the Jerusalemite literati that undermine the others. For instance, according to Gen. 35.4, it is a fitting burial place for representations of ‘foreign gods’. One may note also the spatial setting of the stories of Dinah’s rape (Genesis 34) and of the failed kingship of Abimelech (Judges 9). Cf. Y. Amit, ‘Implicit Redaction and Latent Polemic in the Story of the Rape of Dinah’, in M.V. Fox, et al. (eds.), Texts, Temples and Traditions: A Tribute to Menahem Haran (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1996), pp. 11*-28*, esp. 21*-22*.

Chapter 7 ABOUT TIME: OBSERVATIONS ABOUT THE CONSTRUCTION OF TIME IN THE BOOK OF CHRONICLES*

1 The Book of Chronicles presents itself as a historiographical work. Events are directly observable, not time per se, and accordingly, events rather than abstract conceptions of time are explicitly reported in narrative and historiographical works that try to communicate verisimilitude.1 Moreover, genre considerations apply: historical narratives are not philosophical treatises. Yet historiographical works (a) presuppose certain notions of time and (b) construct time. Turning to the book of Chronicles, this observation becomes obvious as soon as one recognizes the ubiquitous presence of sequential time and the central role given to the maintenance of the proper cult, which surely involves a notion of circular or recurrent time. In fact, as it will be shown, Chronicles implies, shapes, and communicates a multi-faceted concept or concepts of time. To begin with, the very existence and production of the book implies a notion that it is important for the present community of (re)readers and their future generations to know about their past – however it is constructed – and to understand the cause-effect relations that shaped it – according to the claims of the text.2 Such a notion carries by necessity temporal dimensions. There is clear evidence of both (a) circular, recurrent, or cyclical and (b) mono-directional, linear, or sequential times in Chronicles.3 The former involves temporal subdivisions of the day, days within a week, weeks, seasons, cycles of years, festival and pilgrimage times.4 Most often, this type of time blended together cosmic/astronomic and cultic attributes of time. This time was manifested in society, and in the Chronicler’s narrative, through visible, cultic and ritual actions that serve as ‘iconic’ symbols of the theological or ideological legitimacy not only of this particular organization of time but also of the society that upheld it. Thus, this is an astronomic – or perhaps better, cosmic – time, but also and even most

7. About Time

145

importantly a social time. As such, it certainly creates organic ties within the community, demarcates it from outsiders, and reflects, legitimizes, inculcates and even embodies particular theological claims. Of course, sequential or mono-directional time is very important in Chronicles, as in any historiographical work. Sequential time creates a linear time-line of events. This time-line may be structured according to a seemingly ‘objective’ combination of astronomic years and regnal periods.5 It may also be stated in terms of a relative sequence of events (that is, X occurred after Y),6 or as genealogical data and the like. On the surface, this time may be considered ‘external’ to the community, or at least ‘objective’, but significantly, it is organized around, and communicates particular periodizations that emphasize certain aspects of the past of the community,7 obscure others,8 and contribute to a particular shaping of the memory of the community’s past and of its identity. Moreover, the arrowlike character of sequential time is an absolutely indispensable requirement for any historiographical work that involves sets of cause-effect relations. As it is well known, the latter is a central concern in Chronicles.9 Further and at a very basic level, the construction of time as present, past, and future is also dependent on sequential time, though it is far from being hermetically compartmentalized in social life and discourse. In historiographical works – as probably elsewhere – the system of selected and socially constructed memories called ‘the past’ is and has always been a ‘becoming past’ (rather than an immutable past).10 Just as ‘The Great War’ turned into World War 1 after World War 2, both the present of the communities in which the books of Samuel and Kings were composed and also the (image of the) past shaped by the narrative of Samuel–Kings are certainly ‘becoming past’ from the viewpoint of the Chronicler and the readership of Chronicles.11 There were also additional sets of features that contributed to the construction of time beyond the pair ‘sequential-cyclic’ within the society in which and for which the book of Chronicles was composed. For instance, one may mention the set constructed around: (a) the abstract concept of time, per se, as a uniform, ever-present singular entity in which events take place and which can be measured in accordance to divine will,12 and (b) an approach according to which concrete events not only characterize but even embody their time, to the point that time units may be personified and even cursed.13 Taking all this into account, it becomes obvious that only a full-length monograph may address the different and complementary concepts and constructions of time and even time-lines in Chronicles, along with their

146


theological implications, their interactions in the construction of a past, and their particular social implications.14 Thus the present article cannot be more than a preliminary and partial contribution to such a larger topic. This study focuses on a few issues associated with sequential time in Chronicles and develops some preliminary observations that may contribute to a study of concepts, constructions, and arrangements of time that are reflected in, and shaped by, the book of Chronicles, and which were, of course, communicated to its (re)readership.15 2 Sequential time is marked in different ways in Chronicles. It is marked by genealogies, by explicit or implicit ‘earlier or later than’ claims, by references to years (or months) within a single regnal period, and by a system of regnal years that covered the entire monarchic period. It is significant that in Chronicles each king of Judah reigned the same number of years (or months if appropriate) as he reigned according to the Masoretic Text16 books of Kings and Samuel.17 Moreover, in all but one case18 the age of the Judean king at the time of his ascension to the throne is the same as in the so-called (or usually called) deuteronomistic history. To be sure, this absolute (or almost absolute) consistency stands out against the background of the general lack of consistency within Chronicles and the well-known and substantial differences that exist between accounts in the deuteronomistic history and Chronicles.19 This consistency in relation to the length of each regnal period is particularly noteworthy since at times, when there was a substantial theological reason, the Chronicler reorganized the received internal sequence and the explicit chronology of events within the limits of a regnal period, to the point of creating accounts that stand in outright contradiction to the testimony of Kings.20 Theological reasons, however, never led the Chronicler to change the total length of a regnal period, despite the serious theological tensions that such information seemed to have caused. Thus, for instance, the account of a long living and most sinful king such as Manasseh in Kings (2 Kgs 21.1-18; and see also 2 Kgs 24.3) had to be ‘domesticated’ in Chronicles (2 Chron. 33.1-20). But this was done not by changing its length, but rather by including a report about his repentance and the reform he carried out. Similarly, the account of Abijah, a pious king who reigned for a short period, was also ‘domesticated’ by the Chronicler. Whereas in the text the sinful Jeroboam is smitten by YHWH and dies following his confrontation

7. About Time

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with pious Abijah, the latter grows mighty and marries (i.e., ‘took’) 14 wives, and fathers 38 children (see 2 Chron. 13.20-21).21 And yet, despite the tension that it creates, the three-year limit to his reign is not removed.22 Chronological data in Kings relating to the length and the age at the ascension to the throne is maintained even when it is difficult in itself, such as the well-known problem of the age at which Ahaz fathered Hezekiah according to Kings23 (see 2 Kgs 16.2 and cf. 18.2; and see MT 2 Chron. 28.1 and 29.1),24 despite the large degree of freedom attested in its reworking of the accounts of Ahaz and Hezekiah. The lack of any changes regarding this particular temporal information is even more conspicuous given that the Chronicler felt free to change from the source text in Kings on other matters within the same literary units – namely introductory regnal summaries – in which the mentioned chronological information was provided.25 In fact, the Chronicler felt free even to omit the entire unit if it could have raised problems in the Chronicler’s account, provided that the length of the reign is mentioned elsewhere in the regnal account. Thus, there is no parallel to 1 Kgs 15.9-10, but Chronicles includes a reference to the forty-first year of Asa in 2 Chron. 16.13 that has no parallel in 1 Kgs 15.24. This being so, the reason that the Chronicler did not change the mentioned temporal information cannot be directly related to the Chronicler’s particular perception of the genre of these units, nor to any argument about the Chronicler’s understanding of the sources that may have been behind the text of these units in Kings. If so, several questions seem to arise, among them: •

• • •

Why did the Chronicler feel so strongly about the necessity to keep with no change at all, the exact spans of time that each king of Judah reigned (and the ascension age)? What kind of message and horizon of thought is conveyed to the intended audience of Chronicles – who lived in the Persian period – by the implicit characterization of this type of data relating to the kings of Judah as ‘unchangeable’? Which features does this particular organization of the time in the past have that set it apart from others? How does this construction of time relate to other constructions of time in Chronicles, both sequential and recurrent or circular? How does the theological or ideological message conveyed by this construction of time relate to other aspects of the theology expressed in Chronicles?

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3 To begin with, it is worth stressing that the lack of malleability in the sequential construction of time in terms of the monarchic polity and its center of power (namely, the king) stands in tension with the potential malleability of time lines construed around the continuity of generations and birthing concepts as demonstrated by the genealogies. The latter are often unclear, and at times clearly in tension with other constructions of sequential time.26 For instance, Zadok was the priest at the time of David and the person who was anointed as priest when Solomon was anointed as nagid.27 In the present text of 1 Chronicles 5,28 this Zadok is identified as the father of Ahimaaz, who was the father of Azariah, who was the father of Johanan, who in turn was the father of Azariah who served as priest in the house that Solomon built in Jerusalem (1 Chron. 5.34-36; and contrast with 1 Kgs 4.2). This genealogical density creates a sense of time expansion that is directly associated with the Solomonic period and the beginning of the temple. In contrast, only four generations of priests populate the time from Solomonic Azariah to the reform of Josiah, that is well over 300 years in the Chronicler’s sequential time.29 As for the end of the monarchic period and the first temple, the approximately 50 years of sequential time span from Josiah (including his entire reign) to the destruction of Jerusalem30 are also populated with four sequential generations of priests.31 Thus the text communicates a sense of sharp time expansions or contractions in this type of sequential time that stand in clear opposition to the absolute rigidity of the sequential time constructed around the regnal years of the kings of Judah.32 In sum, the priestly genealogies provide a good example of social time that is characterized by biological or birthing markers that is not construed under the same constraints as the main, central, political time of the monarchy.33 Thus the Chronicler differentiates between the absolutely fixed construction of time created by the regnal sequence and similarly arrow-like, mono-directional time constructions that are organized in terms that are not dependent on the center of the monarchic polity but are rather based on the organic continuity of generations, even if the latter involve priests. Moreover, as mentioned above, in Chronicles the constraints upon the time construed by the regnal sequence do not apply to the distribution of time within each regnal period. Not only internal dates or sequence of events are malleable, but also the sense of time communicated by the density of events is flexible and can be expanded or contracted, as the example of Abijah’s account shows.34 In other words, it is not time as

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embodied through the different deeds of the king and the people that is unchangeable, it is rather a sequential time that is disembodied of any action or deed but characterized only by a very particular state of being, namely that of being the time-span of a certain king of Judah.35 This feature surely calls attention to the person, and above all status, of the king of Judah, not with regard to his character (pious or sinful) nor to his deeds, but as a reliable marker of fixed time. Within this discourse the status of the kings of Judah turned them, for a while, into markers of unchangeable time. In other words, their role in this regard was conceptually similar to that of the sun that marked days, and accordingly the sequence of Shabbatot, seasons and festivals, and years. In fact, one may say that just as the sun marked days and years, the king of Judah marked ‘sets of years’. To be sure, in all of the ancient Near East ‘sets of years’ were marked in regnal years, but the point here is that the text of Chronicles tells its readers that (a) the king is a Davidic king who had a cosmic role to play as responsible for the cult and temple of the God; (b) the time marked by this king is to be considered just as immutable as cosmic/ritual time; and (c) all this is communicated in a written book that from its own perspective is not only about the past of Judah or Israel but is also a cosmic book, a universal history that claims to reflect the divine economy and that begins with the first human on earth, in a book that claims to be a universal history and as such begins with Adam but still allocates most of its textual space to the (hi)story of the Davidic dynasty. To be sure, by associating with the Davidic king a flair of cosmic attributes, the book raises his status, and consequently also that of Israel and Jerusalem. Significantly, with this discourse, their salient position is actually a reflection of YHWH’s unique status, because the Davidic king was installed in YHWH’s (only) House and YHWH’s (only) kingdom (see 1 Chron. 17.14).36 Notwithstanding all the social importance of such characterizations, the fact remains that monarchic Judah becomes past and is actualized as past in every retelling of its story in the Persian period and in every reading of the book of the Chronicles by its intended or primary audience. Unlike the sun and the moon, there was no Davidic king to mark time for them, nor was there one for quite a while from their social and historical location. Further, it is worth stressing that the construction of time by regnal periods is not only mono-directional but limited by historical necessity: Kings do die and dynasties eventually lose power, as the readers of Chronicles were all too aware. It is true that such a sequence can be stretched by including all dynasties that ruled in a certain place, but this can be done

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only if the monarchic polity/state can be disassociated from the dynasty.37 This does not seem possible regarding Judah in the world of the book of Chronicles. This being so, the stress in Chronicles on the precise character of this particular sequential time must be understood from the outset as interwoven and strongly informed by clear awareness of the limited character of that time: it was a limited time to begin with. Limits, however, call attention to, and to some extent construct what is beyond them. How is Israel’s time constructed once the historical narrative reaches beyond the limit of its previous state? What does Chronicles communicate to its primary readership about time in their post-monarchic circumstances by emphasizing the status of the Davidic king as a marker of time in the past? 4 At the crucial point of disjuncture in the narrative when monarchic Judah becomes post-monarchic, the organization of sequential time changes in Chronicles.38 Most significantly, Chronicles does not attempt to adapt or reformat the old sequence to the new circumstances, as Kings and Jeremiah do. No reference to the thirty-seventh year of the exile of Jehoiachin appears in Chronicles (cf. 2 Kgs 25.27; Jer. 52.31). There is reference to a king, however. Cyrus serves as king,39 and he orders the rebuilding of the temple in his first year (see Hezekiah’s reopening of the temple in 2 Chron. 29.3). But as positively as he – and perhaps the Achaemenid dynasty40 – is characterized, he is never referred to as a king of Judah,41 nor is the reference to his term as king written in a way that is reminiscent of the notes that characterized the regnal sequence of time shaped by the kings of Judah in the previous chapters of the book. Although calendar years are still organized according to the regnal years of a king, as there was no alternative to that system, these regnal years ceased to construe time in the same way that they construed it during the monarchic period. As significant as Cyrus’ role is in the actual restoration of the temple and as significant as this restoration is, the temporal dimensions of this event are now explicitly associated with, and even governed by, a different organization of time (see 2 Chron. 36.21-22). When the book deals with desolation and restoration, a new propheticcultic, and above all textually inscribed, time takes the place of the old. The transition from desolation to restoration is now framed around shabbatot, around 70 years; that is ten shabbatot of desolation, which are to be followed by the beginning of a new cycle, this time one of promise.

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Further, this time is shaped in language that is reminiscent of Lev. 26.34-35, 43 (2 Chron. 26.21). It recalls and makes explicit the explanation of the exile and the promise of hope that are implicitly present in Lev. 26.14-45. As such, it associates the text with a sense of fulfillment and of legitimacy. Moreover, the 70 years are explicitly related to Jeremiah (2 Chron. 36.21-22; Jer. 25.11-12; 29.10). Thus this construction of time not only legitimizes the prophetic text42 by explicitly pointing to its fulfillment, but it closely links it to the Leviticus text, and by doing so creates a sense of harmony and coherence among sources that are authoritative for the Chronicler and the community within which and for which the Chronicler writes.43 Of course, by creating this convergence, the Chronicler is creating a new discourse that does not actually overlap with the received discourse.44 Further, the reference to astronomic years in the text (2 Chron. 36.2123) communicates a consistency between this textually-oriented, socially involved, and particularly Judahite or Israelite time, to cosmic, absolute time, and as such it legitimizes the latter from a ‘universal’ viewpoint, which, of course, within the discourse of Chronicles is not seen as independent from YHWH but as reflecting YHWH’s will. Significantly, the time advanced now is closely related not to the central polity of Judah, nor to the people alone, but to the land as well. The way in which the time of the desolation and of a new beginning is shaped, that is, around (astronomical as well as agricultural) shabbatot, raises also the issue of whether the arrow of this time might be curved, of whether it must be fully mono-directional or may end up being a combination of mono-directional and circular. Significantly, although surely there is no necessity of a return either to the past or to the main lines of the past in Chronicles, the potential for recurrence or circularity is strongly inscribed in the theological approach of the Chronicler. This is so because of the combination of (a) the belief that there is some kind of thread linking human actions and divine responses, and (b) the belief that people may sin. The first is a very common issue in Chronicles, and the second is demonstrated by numerous accounts in the book. If Israel will sin again, such as it did in the past, then the logic of discourse in Chronicles suggests that desolation will follow their actions, but eventually Israel will be restored. I would like to conclude by stressing that this limited study on time in Chronicles brought to bear a shift from monarchy to textual centeredness, an emphasis on the coherence, consistency, and legitimacy of the authoritative texts, on the coherence between the particular in Israel and

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the cosmic/universal, on the land, and on the potential for circularity. Significantly, all of these traits and tendencies are consistent with the prevalent discourse of Achaemenid period Yehud in general and with the viewpoint of Chronicles in particular. It should be stressed, however, that much of this study was focused on a particular type of time among the many shaped and communicated by Chronicles. Genealogical, cultic, and cosmic times, to mention a few others, are also present. Moreover, the book is still a unit, within which each time is placed in its ‘proper’ relation by all the other times in the book, for all of them interact and intermingle in the construction of the past and the understanding of the present communicated by Chronicles to its primary readership. Endnotes * This chapter is a slightly modified version of a contribution first published as ‘About Time: Observations about the Construction of Time in the Book of Chronicles’, Horizons in Biblical Theology 22 (2000), pp. 17-31. I wish to express my gratitude to Horizons in Biblical Theology for allowing me to republish this essay in the present volume. 1. On psychological aspects of the perception of time see J.J. Gibson, ‘Events Are Perceivable but Time Is Not’, in J.T. Fraser and N. Lawrence (eds.), The Study of Time II (New York/Heidelberg/Berlin: Springer Verlag, 1975), pp. 295-301. 2. These readers are mainly rereaders of the book. Although for reasons of style, the terms ‘reader’ and ‘readership’ will be used in this article, it must be kept in mind that the actual and intended readers were mainly rereaders. I wrote on this topic elsewhere. See, for instance, E. Ben Zvi, ‘Micah 1.2-16: Observations and Possible Implications’, JSOT 77 (1998), pp. 103-20. 3. It goes without saying that old proposals regarding the contrast of a Hebrew/ Jewish/Semitic notion of linear time as opposed to a Greek/Aryan circular notion of time, along with claims that the ‘Hebrews’ did not have a concept of time per se, can be safely ignored. On these matters, see A. Momigliano, ‘Time in Ancient Historiography’, in A. Momigliano, et al. (eds.), History and the Concept of Time (History and Theory; Studies in the Philosophy of History, Beiheft 6; Middletown, CT: Wesleyan University Press, 1966), pp. 1-23, and J. Barr, Biblical Words for Time (SBT; Naperville, IL: A.R. Allenson, 2nd edn, 1969; London: SCM Press, 1st edn, 1962). On the notion and theological importance of ‘cyclic time’ see also R. Knierim, ‘Cosmos and History in Israel’s Theology’, HBT 3 (1982), pp. 59-123, esp. 80-85. Needless to state, it seems unconceivable that an agrarian society will have neither perception nor some form of social construction and organization of cyclic time. 4. See, for instance, 2 Chron. 2.3; 8.13; 23.8; 24.5; 31.3; 36.21; and cf. 2 Chron. 9.24. 5. See, for instance, 2 Chron. 12.2; 16.1; 12; 17.7, and see the basic event-line that is structured in the main according to regnal period whose extent is characterized by (astronomic) years. Occasionally, the number of years is counted on a basis other than

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regnal years (see 2 Chron. 23.1; for ideological reasons Chronicles cannot refer here to the regnal years of Athaliah). 6. Explicitly mentioned (e.g., 2 Chron. 20.35; 25.3) and communicated by the linear sequence, the syntax and logic of particular narratives in a regnal account (e.g., 2 Chron. 13. 4-20). 7. The main of which is the one shaped around the regnal periods of the king of Judah. 8. See, e.g., the omission in Chronicles of the reference to the exodus from Egypt in the crucial reference in 2 Chron. 3.2 and the parallel account in 1 Kgs 6.1. 9. This being so, a worthwhile question is whether the organization of time accepted and communicated by the Chronicler has any relation to the Chronicler’s understanding of cause-effect relations. On these matters, see below. 10. On these and related matters see L. Lundmark, ‘The Historian’s Time’, Time and Society 2 (1993), pp. 61-74. 11. It is this perspective that may significantly contribute to the understanding of the partial malleability of the memory of the past of Israel as it shifts from its description in Samuel-Kings to that in Chronicles. The issue deserves a separate discussion, which I plan to develop elsewhere. 12. Although the abstract conception is usually associated with Greek thought, Sasson has convincingly shown that it likely existed in P. If so, this time was at the very least part of the cultural horizon of the authorship and the readership of the book. See Jack M. Sasson, ‘Time…to Begin’, in M. Fishbane and E. Tov (eds.), ‘Sha’arei Talmon’: Studies in the Bible, Qumran, and the Ancient Near East Presented to Shemaryahu Talmon (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1992), pp. 183-94. 13. See Th. Jacobsen and K. Nielsen, ‘Cursing the Day’, SJOT 6 (1992), pp. 187-204, and cf. P.E. Ariotti, ‘The Concept of Time in Western Antiquity’, in Fraser and Lawrence (eds.), Study of Time, pp. 69-80; D. Corish, ‘The Emergence of Time: A Study in the Origins of Western Thought’, in J.T. Fraser, N. Lawrence, and F.C. Haber (eds.), Time, Science and Society in China and the West (The Study of Time, V; Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1986), pp. 69-78. 14. The two main monographs on the issue of time in the Hebrew Bible are J. Barr, Biblical Words for Time and J.R. Wilch, Time and Event: An Exegetical Study on the Use of ‘ēth in the Old Testament in Comparison to Other Temporal Expressions in Clarification of the Concept of Time (Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1969). They include a good, and in Barr’s case actually excellent, survey and critique of previous literature. None of the two monographs focuses on Chronicles in particular. They precede, however, some of the present research on ‘time and society’, on social theory and the study of the concept of time, on the interaction between identity and time, and to some extent are interwoven within the discourse of their times. The latter considerations hold true also for the important chapter by A. Momigliano, ‘Time in Ancient Historiography’, and for comprehensive treatment of the term ‫ ֵעת‬by E. Jenni, in TLOT 2, pp. 951-61. 15. Given the focus on linguistic issues that characterized the two monographs mentioned in the preceding note, it is to be stressed that this study on ‘time’ in Chronicles does not deal with linguistic matters. It focuses rather on the question of how time is constructed within the narrative world of Chronicles and what could these constructions of time communicate to and tell about the social group within and for

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whom the book was composed. To be sure, it is most likely that biblical Hebrew had linguistic ways of expressing time in its general sense (see Barr, Biblical Words for Time, pp. 100-106, 123), but there is no reason why such a term be used in an historiographical works such as Chronicles, in contrast with Qohelet. This writer is convinced that the implicit construction of time through the narrative of Chronicles may point better at the accepted, though not reflected upon, dominant worldview about time than a work of ‘philosophical’ reflection (for instance, Qohelet). The more prevalent a worldview is, the less likely people would reflect upon it. In any case, one may keep in mind that since one can ascribe concepts to people who may not have a clear, univocal word to express them, there is no need to argue for the presence in Chronicles of particular terms or words that convey each of the aspects of time that emerge from its construction in Chronicles. On more general issues, cf. G. Prudovsky, ‘Can We Ascribe to Past Thinkers Concepts They Had No Linguistic Means to Express?’, History and Theory 36 (1997), pp. 15-31, and bibliography cited there. 16. According to MT 2 Kgs 8.17, Jehoram the son of Jehoshaphat reigned for 8 years, but Vaticanus, Alexandrinus, and the Lucianic recension give 40 and 10 years respectively (see BHS). 2 Chron. 21.5 allocates 8 regnal years to Jehoram, just as the MT. The issue of what can we learn about the MT and the LXX of Kings, if anything, from this observation demands a separate study. 17. See 1 Chron. 3.4 and 2 Sam. 5.5; 1 Chron. 29.27 and 1 Kgs 2.11; 2 Chron. 9.30 and 1 Kgs 11.42; 2 Chron. 12.13 and 1 Kgs 14.21; 2 Chron. 13.2 and cf. 1 Kgs 15.2; 2 Chron. 16.13 and 1 Kgs 15.10; 2 Chron. 20.31 and 1 Kgs 22.42; 2 Chron. 21.5 and 2 Kgs 8.17; 2 Chron. 22.2 and 2 Kgs 8.26; 2 Chron. 24.1 and 2 Kgs 12.2; 2 Chron. 25.1 and 2 Kgs 14.2; 2 Chron. 26.3 and 2 Kgs 15.2; 2 Chron. 27.1, 8 and 2 Kgs 15. 33; 2 Chron. 28.1 and 2 Kgs 16.2; 2 Chron. 29.1 and 2 Kgs 18.2; 2 Chron. 33.1 and 2 Kgs 21.1; 2 Chron. 33.21 and 2 Kgs 21.19; 2 Chron. 34.1 and 2 Kgs 22.1; 2 Chron. 36.2 and 2 Kgs 23.31; 2 Chron. 36.5 and 2 Kgs 23.36; 2 Chron. 36.9 and 2 Kgs 24.8; 2 Chron. 36.11 and 2 Kgs 24.18; cf. 2 Chron. 22.12-23.1 and 2 Kgs 11.3-4. 18. 2 Chron. 36.9 and 2 Kgs 24.8. This instance is likely due to a scribal error. See S. Japhet, I and II Chronicles (OTL; Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1993), p. 1067. 19. S. Japhet has emphasized this consistency too. For her approach to the issue, see Japhet, I and II Chronicles, p. 688. 20. See, for instance, the accounts of Asa and Josiah; see 2 Chronicles 34 and cf. 2 Kings 22–23; 2 Chronicles 14–16 and 1 Kgs 15.9-24. On the theological problems that the text in Kings presented to the Chronicler, see, for instance, Japhet, I and II Chronicles, pp. 729, 1019. 21. Needless to say, this information contradicts 1 Kgs 14.9, according to which Asa became king during the reign of Jeroboam, but the point of Chronicles is that Abijah’s behavior leads to life but Jeroboam’s to death. The ‘explosion’ of life at the end of the account serves that rhetorical purpose. Significantly, this explosion is associated with the realm of family and birthing rather than the political one. 22. It is worth stressing that the literary and theological construction of the narrative in Chronicles is not a direct function of the amount of source material available to the author(s) of Chronicles. A comparison between Chronicles and the ‘Primary History’, a closer analysis of this and other accounts (cf. that of Josiah’s kingdom), and the entire

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omission of main events in the traditional (hi)story of Israel clearly demonstrate this point. Thus, the density of narrated events in Chronicles is not dependent on the density of material in the sources that were available to the Chronicler. In other words, the particular instances of expansion or contraction of time as connoted by the density events narrated in the book of Chronicles cannot be explained away as a simple reflection of the availability of resources. Further, it goes without saying that the text nowhere tells its readers that these instances of expansion and contraction of time reflect the constraints of the sources available to the Chronicler. 23. Ahaz would have been about 11 years old when he fathered Hezekiah; see, for instance, Japhet, 1 and 2 Chronicles, p. 898; W. Johnstone, 1 and 2 Chronicles. II. 2 Chronicles 10-36. Guilt and Atonement (JSOTSup, 254; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997), p. 176. 24. Some manuscripts of the LXX have a reading ‘Ahaz was twenty-four when he became king’. This reading solves the problem and is accepted by some as the original text of Kings. See, e.g., M. Cogan and H. Tadmor, II Kings (AB, 11; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1988), p. 186. But this reading may more likely reflect an awareness of the problem. 25. The changes may include spelling or the name of a given king (see, e.g., 2 Chron. 13.1 and cf. 1 Kgs 15.1; 2 Chron. 26.3 and cf. 2 Kgs 15.1), references to the king’s mother (see, e.g., 2 Chron. 34.1 and cf. 2 Kgs 22.1), synchronic references to the kings of Israel (all omitted except the one in 2 Chron. 13.1). 26. On some perspectives on generations and genealogies as expressions of time see S. Bodribb, ‘The Birth of Time: Generation(s) and Genealogy in Mary O’Brien and Luce Irigaray’, Time and Society 1 (1992), pp. 257-70. 27. See 1 Chron. 29.22; Zadok anointed Solomon according to 1 Kgs 1.45. 28. For proposals regarding an original text, see, e.g., BHS. 29. Abijah, 3 years; Asa, 41; Jehoshaphat, 25; Jehoram, 8; Ahaziah, 1; no king, 6; Joash, 40; Amaziah, 29; Uzziah, 52; Jotham, 16; Ahaz, 16; Hezekiah, 29; Manasseh, 55; Amon, 2. 30. Josiah, 31 years; Jehoahaz, 3 months; Jehoiakim, 11 years; Jehoiachin, 3 months; Zedekiah, 11 years. 31. Hilkiah is the priest in the eighth year of the reign of Josiah (2 Chron. 34.8-9). The other three priests in the list are Azariah, Seraiah, and Jehozadak, who was the priest at the time of the exile (1 Chron. 5.41). It is possible to understand the rapid change of priests following Hilkiah in terms of the instability of the period. There were four kings since Josiah to the fall of Jerusalem, but significantly these kings, unlike the priests are not presented as members of four different generations: Jehoiakim is the brother of Jehoahaz, not his son (2 Chron. 36.4); Zedekiah is surely not the son of the infant king Jehoiachin, but either his brother (MT) or his uncle (see BHS and cf. 2 Kgs 24.17; 1 Chron. 3.15). Needless to say, the four generations of priests during Solomon’s time cannot be understood as communicating a sense of instability. This was a golden period from the perspective of the Chronicler. 32. The high priests of the post-Solomonic era are: (1)Amariah, (2) Ahitub, (3) Zadok, (4) Shallum, (5) Hilkiah, (6) Azariah, (7) Seraiah, (8) Jehozadak. (See 1 Chron. 5.37-41.) In contrast, there were 19 kings of Judah after Solomon. In terms of sequential time of regnal periods, 5 generations of priests populated 40 years, then 4

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generations are allocated about 300 years, and finally 4 generations are assigned to the last around 50 years of the first temple. 33. This is the more remarkable given the important role of the priests in the world of the Chronicler. Of course there are additional examples of genealogical time that are not consistent with other time lines. For instance, one may notice that there were about 20 generations of kings of Israel/Judah (see above), but only 4 generations (Salma, Boaz, Obed, Jesse; see 1 Chron. 2.10-12) separated David from the exodus from Egypt (i.e., the time of Nahshon, the father of Salma; see 1 Chron. 2.10-11, and Num. 1.7; 2.3; 7.12; 10.14). It is worth stressing that although Chronicles strongly de-emphasizes the exodus from Egypt, the book clearly reflects an awareness of the traditions of the exodus (see 1 Chron. 17.21; 2 Chron. 5.10; 6.5; 7.22) and even of the temporal place of the event in the genealogy of Judah (cf. Num. 2.3 and 1 Chron. 2.10, and notice there the reference to Nahshon as the prince of [the sons of] Judah). (On the approach of Chronicles to traditions associated with pre-monarchic times [e.g., the exodus, the conquest, the period of the Judges] see also S. Japhet, The Ideology of the Book of Chronicles and its Place in Biblical Thought [BEATAJ, 9; Frankfurt am Main: P. Lang, 2nd rev. edn, 1997], pp. 374-86.) 34. See Section 2. 35. To be sure, one may approach the situation in Chronicles from the well-known perspective of chronology versus historical-narrative time. The regnal periods provide a chronology based on standard and evenly distributed units (i.e., years, months, etc.), whereas the historial-narrative time expands or contracts according to the events. This approach to the situation also leads by necessity to an understanding of the scheme of (unalterable) regnal period as providing an exact, unchangeable, chronographic time that is disembodied of any action or deed but characterized only by a very particular state of being, namely that of being the time span of a certain king of Judah. 36. One may mention also that even the age of such a king becomes an almost fixed fact, as it were intertwined in the fabric of cosmic time itself. 37. See, e.g., the sequence of the regnal accounts of kings of Israel in the book of Kings, which includes all (northern) Israelite dynasties. 38. On the literary importance of the end of Chronicles for a critical reading of the book see, J.E. Dyck, The Theocratic Ideology of the Chronicler (Leiden, E.J. Brill, 1998), pp. 77-78. 39. In Isa. 44.28–45.1 Cyrus is explicitly referred to as YHWH’s shepherd and anointed. 40. The time of the establishment of the kingdom of Persia is associated with the end of the exile in 2 Chron. 36.20. Yet, it should be stressed that the text is written in such a way that explicitly disallows any possible understanding of the establishment of the kingdom of Persia as the primary reason for the timing of the end of the exile. This being the case, this study focuses, as it should, on v. 21 and v. 22. See below. 41. Nor could he have been referred to as such, given the viewpoint of the book of Chronicles. I have written elsewhere on these matters and on the questions regarding the theme of the selection of a Davidide against the background of a positively-seen Achaemenid rule. See Chapters 11 and 13 in this volume. 42. It is to be stressed that the reference to Jeremiah’s prophecy in Chronicles is a reference to a written text. The sources of the Chronicler included not only Samuel and

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Kings but also other pentateuchal and prophetic books, as the parallels show. Significantly, when the Chronicler explicitly refers to sources, the use of the common phrase ‫( הנם כתובים‬i.e., ‘they are written’) points to a discourse in which references are made to written books. It is significant that, whereas in the book of Chronicles the figures of the monarchic period, including and even perhaps particularly those just before the destruction of Jerusalem, are presented as those who should have listened to prophets (see 2 Chron. 36.12, 16), the Chronicler refers, and asks the readership of the book of Chronicles to refer, to a written prophetic text. On the ‘combination’ of Jer. 25.9-12 and Lev. 26.32-35 see M. Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation in Ancient Israel (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1988), pp. 482-83, 488-89; cf. Dyck, Theocratic Ideology, pp. 79-81. 43. The Chronicler’s tendency to bring harmony and coherence among the authoritative texts is well known. See, e.g., the ‘famous’ combination of Exod. 12.8-9 and Deut. 16.6-7 in 2 Chron. 35.13; see also the discussion on Solomon’s celebration of the feast of tabernacles in 2 Chron. 7.8-10 in Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation, pp. 151-53; and I.L. Seeligman, ‘The Beginnings of Midrash in the Books of Chronicles’, Tarbiz 49 (1979/80), pp. 14-32. 44. Compare with the conclusion advanced on different, but somewhat related, matters in Gary N. Knoppers, ‘Hierodules, Priests, or Janitors? The Levites in Chronicles and the History of the Israelite Priesthood’, JBL 118 (1999), pp. 49-72, esp. 68-72.

Part III CHRONICLES AND THEOLOGY AS COMMUNICATED AND RECREATED THROUGH THE REREADING OF A HISTORIOGRAPHICAL, LITERARY WRITING

Chapter 8 A SENSE OF PROPORTION: AN ASPECT OF THE THEOLOGY OF THE CHRONICLER*

1 As a contribution to the study of the theology or ideology conveyed by the book of Chronicles, this paper sets out to develop the idea that the Chronicler – defined as the author/s of the book of Chronicles – consistently set the lessons that the historical audience may have learned from some, or even many, of the individual accounts in the book in theological or ideological perspective by qualifying them with the message conveyed by other accounts. The Chronicler, thus, shaped within the text, and communicated to the audience, a sense of proportion that is integral to the thought and teachings conveyed by the book of Chronicles as a whole. It is also the contention of this paper that the Chronicler did not claim or wish the audience to understand reported attestations of certain theological principles as proof that such principles are universally or absolutely valid. Rather than presenting to the audience a world governed by God according to a set of independent principles, whose relative importance may be abstracted from the number of reported attestations, Chronicles suggested to its historical audience a world in which God’s principles are deeply interrelated and qualify each other, and therefore, a world in which God’s rules cause a variety of possible effects, including those which are inconsistent with some of the divine principles themselves, had they been separate and universally valid. This multiplicity of possible results allowed relatively flexible explanations of events in Israel’s construction of the past, and in the lives of the audience as well.1 Here I will approach this issue mainly from the perspective of accounts dealing with a few but central theological or ideological issues in Chronicles, namely: (a) the existence of an individually assessed correspondence between actions and effects regulated by God, which is sometimes misnamed the Chronicler’s doctrine of retribution;2 (b) the related issue of the freedom of choice and the degree of external influences that may affect

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161

this freedom; and (c) the strictly human (i.e., not super-human) character of the king. 2 Even the most cursory reading of Chronicles shows that the text communicated to the historical audience a strong sense of correspondence between actions and effects at the individual level, that is, that individual actions lead to personal rewards or punishments.3 Numerous reports of manifest instances of an individually assessed coherence between actions and their eventual outcome and some explicit remarks (e.g., 2 Chron. 12.5b) clearly conveyed such a message.4 It is worth noting, however, that the book of Chronicles contains a substantial number of accounts as well as of types of reported events that convey to the same audience a plain message: past (and by implication, also present) events and circumstances are not necessarily coherent with such a principle of correspondence; in fact, many times the reported past openly contradicts this principle, which may suggest that the present as experienced by individual members of the audience may also contradict such a principle. For instance, Chronicles contains four accounts of pious kings who were attacked by powerful enemies (Asa [twice], Jehoshaphat, Hezekiah; see 2 Chron. 14.8-14; 16.1-7; 20.1-30; 32.1-21). Whatever the results of these wars, in the shared discourse of Chronicles and its historical audience, such attacks were generally considered a relatively typical divine response to wrongdoing, a punishment (see, e.g., 2 Chron. 12.2-5). True, these specific accounts can be explained in terms of the principle of ‘God testing kings’, and by extension, human beings in general.5 But this explanation (which I accept) does not deny, but rather emphasizes that these accounts describe divinely caused effects (i.e., these attacks) that cannot be explained as a result of human actions within the framework of a coherent system of individually assessed correspondence between human actions and divinely regulated results.6 Among the reports that the Chronicler communicated to the historical audience and that plainly contradict the principle of coherence between individual human actions and divine responses two deserve close attention: (a) Hezekiah’s speech in 2 Chronicles 29 and (b) the story of the census of David in 1 Chronicles 21.7 Hezekiah’s address, a piece with no parallel in the deuteronomistic history, includes the following: ‘Our fathers trespassed and did what displeased the Lord our God, they forsook God…they did not offer incense

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and did not make burnt offerings in the holy place to the God of Israel… Our fathers died by the sword, and our sons and daughters and wives are in captivity on account of this (‫ ;על זאת‬vv. 6-9). It is self-evident that the text communicates to the audience that sons, daughters and wives may suffer because of the iniquities of those who are called ‘our fathers’.8 It may be claimed that neither the writer nor the audience considered that sons, daughters and wives had an independent status insofar as it concerns the principle of correspondence between actions and effects, and therefore there is no tension between this address and the principle itself.9 Notwithstanding that this position is already a strong qualification of the rule of coherence (contrast with Ezek. 14.20; and also Ezek. 18.1-20), it does not solve the tension between the principle and the text, because not only sons, daughters and wives but also the speaker and the addressed audience of married males with children are presented as suffering, albeit in different forms, because of the deeds of ‘our fathers’. The Chronicler extensively rewrote, and certainly reinterpreted, the received story of the census of David in 2 Sam. 24.1-25 (see 1 Chron. 21.130).10 But, significantly for our discussion here, the Chronicler did not deviate from the claim in 2 Samuel that 70,000 Israelites were killed because of David’s sin. In fact, a comparative analysis of the text of the two relevant verses, namely 1 Chron. 21.14 and 2 Sam. 24.15, shows that the reference to the 70,000 Israelites is almost the only element from the account in Samuel that the Chronicler copied verbatim. To put it bluntly, either the Chronicler was absent-minded in a very selective way or was suddenly unaware of the implications and implicatures of the claim made in the verse, or one has to conclude that the Chronicler saw no theological problem in explicitly reporting to the audience that 70,000 Israelites were once killed as a consequence of David’s sin. Whereas it is true that unintentional communicative meanings cannot be automatically ruled out, an ad hoc differentiation between significant and intentional messages conveyed by a skillful rewriting of received texts according to certain theological guidelines, and unintentional or ‘accidental’ communicative messages conveyed by the same author at times of ‘unawareness’ cannot be maintained and is contrary to the principle of simplicity. It is also unreasonable to reject denoted or connoted messages on the grounds that they are not consistent with a certain reconstruction of the Chronicler’s thought. Such an action involves turning a conclusion into a necessary premise, points to circular thinking, and is to be rejected.11 Finally, even if only for the sake of the argument, one grants that the


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Chronicler did not intend the audience to abstract any lesson from this part of the account, can we assume that the ancient readers/learners of Chronicles who were trained by means of this book to abstract theological meanings from reported historical events would not do so in this case? More than a hundred years ago Wellhausen wrote, ‘(Individual) merit is the obverse of success’ in Chronicles; only a few years ago Sara Japhet continued this line of interpretation when she wrote, ‘any ideology of… ancestral merit (‫ )זכות אבות‬has no place in the book (of Chronicles)’.12 Nothing less than the Chronicler’s version of God’s choice of Solomon (see 1 Chron. 22.9-10; cf. 1 Chron. 28.5-7; 29.1) stands in tension with these statements. Even if Solomon’s election is interpreted there as God’s granting Solomon the potential to build the temple and to establish the Davidic dynasty, such a grant is certainly a blessing. Significantly, this blessing is not and cannot be explained in terms of Solomon’s merit, because, according to Chronicles, Solomon was not even born at the time of the divine election (1 Chron. 22.9-10). Moreover, according to this account, God already knows, before Solomon is born, that he will be ‫( איש מנוחה‬a man of rest), and accordingly that God will give Israel (all Israel, including Solomon, of course) ‫( שלום ושקט‬peace and quiet), which is a blessing generally associated with individual merit (see 1 Chron. 22.9-10).13 It may be argued that since the election of Solomon leads directly to particularly significant and unique developments in the reported history of Israel (i.e., the establishment of the temple and the Davidic dynasty), the historical audience was not supposed to abstract from this incomparable foundation-event any information about the usual ways by which God governs history. First, the extent to which the Chronicler and the historical audience would have accepted the principle of non-uniformity of the past is questionable.14 Second, the proposal itself seems to be an ad hoc premise. Third, the election of Solomon is not the only instance of reported history that stands in contradiction with the principle of individually assessed correspondence between actions and effects. And fourth, an analysis of common traits among accounts that contradict this rule of coherence does not suggest ‘uniqueness’ as a main category, instead it points to the influence of other theological and ideological principles. For instance, the reported 70 years of exile in 2 Chron. 36.20-21 are presented to the audience as the fulfillment of the word of God to Jeremiah (the reference is to Jer. 25.11-12; 29.10, which are interpreted against the background of Lev. 26.34-35, 43; this text has no parallel in

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the deuteronomistic history).15 Not only was more than one generation affected by this fulfillment, but most of those who were affected were not even born at the time in which the divine word came to Jeremiah. Significantly, there is no attempt in Chronicles to correlate between being in exile and individual wrongdoing. The connoted message of this text is clear: the 70 years of exile is not the outcome of a principle of individually assessed correspondence between actions and effects, but reflects, among others, the basic rule that a true prophecy is fulfilled.16 It may be claimed that the exile is also a unique foundation-event, though it is relatively de-emphasized in Chronicles.17 The same, however, cannot be said of reports such as the one about the tragic fate of Hanani the seer along with that of people who seem to have been in agreement with him (2 Chron. 16.10) and that of Zechariah, the son of Yehoiada (2 Chron. 24.20-22).18 These texts explicitly communicated to the audience that prophets were persecuted and killed because they delivered a true divine message. These accounts point to an important theme in post-monarchic (e.g., Neh. 9.26), and post-Hebrew Bible thought and literature (e.g., Jub. 1.3; Martyrdom of Isaiah; Lives of the Prophets [passim]), namely ‘prophetic martyrology’.19 In this regard, it is worth noting that Chronicles communicated to its audience that the prophet died while proclaiming ‫‘( יֵ ֶרא יהוה וְ יִ ְדר ֹשׁ‬may the Lord see and avenge’; see 2 Chron. 24.22). Such an explicit martyrologic statement provided the audience with an unequivocal interpretative key for the entire pericope, Zechariah the prophet was a ‘martyr’.20 The concept of prophetic martyrology stands in obvious contradiction to that of individually assessed correspondence between actions and rewards. It is worth noting that Chronicles conveys to the historical audience that both principles were at work simultaneously, but with different human referents. Kings who persecuted prophets were punished and suffered, but prophets suffered too. Suffering, therefore, cannot be equated with wrongdoing, though it may follow it. If Solomon’s election cannot be explained in terms of merit, nor as a unique case in which the uniformity of history and the divine rules governing it breaks down, then a different principle may be at work. This suggestion is confirmed by a comparative analysis of the human referents of the term ‫ בחר‬in Chronicles. The Levites are chosen for all generations (‫ ;)עד עולם‬1 Chron. 15.2; cf. 2 Chron. 29.11), as are David and his house and Judah (1 Chron. 28.4). None of these elections can be explained in terms of an individually assessed coherence between actions and effects.


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All of them point to God’s sovereign will to select certain individuals and especially certain ancestral families in Israel forever for certain tasks and responsibilities.21 To sum up this part of the discussion, on the one hand, Chronicles certainly communicated to the audience through numerous accounts that an individually assessed correspondence between actions and effects regulated by God is attested in history. On the other hand, the same book conveyed the message that neither history nor, by extension, events in the life of individual members of the audience are necessarily explained in terms of such a correspondence. Thus, the entire book of Chronicles, as opposed to many of its separate accounts, suggests to its historical audience an understanding of the divine ways of governing the world that is much more complex and less predictable than a divinely administrated principle of immediate individual reward or punishment. From the point of view of the logic of the argument developed in Chronicles, this conclusion is expected. Examples of correspondence between individual actions and divinely controlled effects can demonstrate only a particular positive proposition (i.e., a proposition such as, ‘there are cases in which this correspondence is attested’), and therefore they refute only the universal negative proposition, namely, ‘there are no cases in which this correspondence is attested’. In no situation can these examples lead to the conclusion that there are no cases in which the principle of correspondence is not sustained.22 It may be argued, however, that from a rhetorical point of view, as opposed to a strictly logical perspective, the relatively large number of illustrations of this correspondence could have suggested to the audience that it is attested so often that for practical purposes it may be considered as ‘always’ applicable. It is certainly reasonable to assume that communal understandings of Chronicles were influenced by the rhetoric of the text, as well as by its ‘formal’ logic. In fact, it seems that Chronicles itself reflects both an awareness of such a potential understanding and a clear rejection of it, because as it is written, Chronicles contains several units whose communicative message is straightforward refutation of such a possible interpretation. Significantly, this refutation is conveyed to the audience in the Chronicler’s typical manner, by means of reported events that point to a theological or ideological truth. Still, two relevant observations demand an explanation. First, the Chronicler invested much more effort in showing coherence between actions and effects (and accordingly in refuting the claim that there is no correspondence between them) than in showing the limitations of this

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correspondence. Second, the Chronicler usually does not suggest to the audience that this correspondence is restricted in any significant way in the separate accounts that illustrate it.23 The fact that accounts illustrating an individually assessed correspondence between actions and deeds vastly outnumber those standing in contradiction or tension with this principle does not necessarily point to the Chronicler’s adherence to a certain ‘dogmatic’ theology, nor should it lead to a scholarly construction of a list of ‘inconsistencies’. This situation is better explained in terms of the historical and rhetorical circumstances of the Chronicler. One may assume that there was much more need to persuade the audience of the existence of a certain coherence of actions and effects rather than to demonstrate that it may fail. It is not only that common experience strongly suggests so, but a substantial number of biblical passages show a similar perspective and intention.24 In addition, the Chronicler can be considered a preacher or teacher of ‘practical truths’. The Chronicler, or better the book of Chronicles by means of its separate accounts, taught the community what it should do in order to live according to God’s will, and at the same time encouraged them to do so. It seems more congruent with this purpose to stress that claims about an absolute lack of correspondence between action and effects are utterly false, than to emphasize instances of incoherence between the two. Finally, a good teacher of practical truths must use ‘a manner calculated to sway the mind’.25 Such a manner does not stress the ifs and buts of the argument supporting the lesson being taught. If ifs and buts are mentioned at all in this discourse, they are registered only to be successfully refuted.26 In sum, whereas the persuasive social function of the individual accounts in Chronicles may explain their seemingly unequivocal, universal claims, the cumulative effect of the implications or implicatures of the different accounts provided the community with an interpretative and qualifying key to understand their true message. The community may have read and learned separate accounts and may have abstracted from them theological or ideological lessons, but eventually the community read and learned the entire book, and lessons were integrated and reinterpreted according to the emerging pattern, a pattern in which a sense of proportion and balance was much at the forefront. 3 This sense of balance and proportion conveyed through the integration of the messages communicated by separate accounts is easily discernible in


167

accounts dealing with some of the theological/ideological assumptions implied by an individually assessed concept of coherence between actions and effects, among them, those dealing with the issue of freedom of choice, individual responsibility and the human character of the king.27 Japhet maintains: ‘One man’s acts cannot determine another’s destiny. This separation comes into play, primarily in defining the king and the people as two distinct “individuals”, each responsible for its deeds.’28 The book of Chronicles contains several accounts whose communicative message is that individuals (including kings) are personally responsible and free to choose. Perhaps the most explicit and extreme note in this respect is the one claiming that 120,000 of Ahaz’s soldiers were killed in only one day, not because of the sins of the king but because ‘they had forsaken YHWH, the God of their fathers’.29 Moreover, the Chronicler usually conveyed to the audience that the kingdom was constituted by king, elite and ‘people’.30 Since the latter two also enjoyed the prosperity of the kingdom, or suffered from the lack of, a seemingly strong sense of free individual choice, personal responsibility and individually assessed coherence of actions and effects conduced to two main types of reported situations in Chronicles: (a) the kingdom was prosperous, and the king, the elite and the ‘people’ behaved according to God’s will, and (b), exactly the opposite. If so, these accounts conveyed to the audience that during the monarchy, the king was very often so influential that the behavior of his subjects closely follows his, and therefore, he strongly conditioned both the fate of the kingdom and the behavior and fate of the people, as individuals.31 This connoted message is strongly supported by several accounts of an immediate change in the attitude of the elite and the people following the death of the king. For instance, as soon as Hezekiah replaced Ahaz, it is reported that the elite and the people had a complete change of heart (see 2 Chronicles 29–31). But even more dramatic, and perhaps more significant for the understanding of this aspect of the message of Chronicles, are the consistently reported, sudden changes of heart in the elite and the people that immediately followed the death of a wrongdoing king. Even before such a king was buried, both elite and people recognized that the deceased did not follow the ways of God, and therefore he does not deserve burial honors, so they do not bury him in the tombs of the kings of Israel.32 In this regard, Chronicles ‘demonstrates’ to its audience that Israel’s past shows that whenever the leadership of the bad king vanishes, the Israelites revert to a kind of ‘natural’ recognition of God’s ways and of the importance of their implementation. Significantly, the opposite situation, namely

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that a ‘good king’ died and was buried without the expected honors, because the elite and the people changed their heart and decided to forsake God is never attested in Chronicles. Thus, Chronicles conveyed a clear message to its historical audience in two respects: (a) the Israelites are ‘by nature’ righteous, but because of a sinning leadership they may go astray; and (b) the king is only a human but he may influence the behavior of other humans to a large degree, and in this respect, he is not a ‘common human’.33 Both of these messages are certainly in tension with, and qualify the notion of, individual freedom of choice. It is worth noting that Chronicles also qualifies most of the lessons learned from the implications mentioned above, which by themselves qualified the message of other lessons learned from other accounts. The extent of the influence of good kings over their people is also qualified through a series of texts that parallel the bamot notes in Kings. According to some of these texts, even during the reigns of pious kings, the people did not worship God properly.34 Moreover, according to Chronicles, there were cases in which members of the elite influenced the king rather than the other way around (e.g., 2 Chron. 24.17-18). Furthermore, at least a few righteous persons are expected to live in a society characterized by a king, an elite and people who forsook God. In fact, they are necessary according to another principle, that of ‘warning before punishment’ which also plays an important role in the theological/ideological thought conveyed by Chronicles (e.g., 2 Chron. 24.19-25; cf. 2 Chron. 12.5-14).35 Significantly, the choice made by the addresses of these warnings is presented as crucial not only to their future, but also as decisive in regards to the future of those who proclaimed the divine warning, though in different ways. Asa’s rejection of the words of Hanani, the seer, (2 Chron. 16.10) led to the king having a foot disease, but also the seer to being tortured; Yehoash’s rejection of Zechariah’s message led to the defeat of the king and eventually to his death, but earlier to Zechariah’s death. Here, from the perspective of the king, there is freedom of choice, personal responsibility and coherence between actions and effects at the individual level, whereas from the perspective of the prophets there is a complete lack of coherence. Significantly, it is more reasonable that the historical audience would like to identify and actually identified itself with the pious prophets rather than with a king who sins. The freedom of choice of the kings is also qualified. At least one king, Solomon, is designated even before his birth as a ‘man of rest’, a pious king during whose reign Israel will enjoy divine blessings (see above). Here the


169

ruling principle is certainly neither the merit of the king nor that of the subjects, nor their freedom of choice and personal responsibility. A different example concerns Amaziah. Chronicles explicitly claims that God caused Amaziah not to listen to the words of the king of Israel (2 Chron. 25.20), because God had decided earlier that Amaziah should be destroyed (2 Chron. 25.16).36 Thus, at least from some point in time, the freedom of choice was taken away from this king. But if so, also the possibility of repentance was taken away. Since the possibility of repentance is a major theological issue conveyed by Chronicles, this observation keeps us within a set of Russian dolls, as it were. One principle is qualified by another, which in turn is qualified by a third one, and so on;37 yet all together they provide a representation of the ideology or theology conveyed by the book of Chronicles as whole to its historical audience, a representation in which there is a strong sense of proportion. 4 To sum up, two main conclusions emerge from this study of some aspects of the theological/ideological thought conveyed by the book of Chronicles: (a) Chronicles stresses some messages more than others. This fact seems better explained in terms of the rhetorical situation of the writer and the historical audience and their theological/ideological questions rather than by assuming a relatively dogmatic writer who either is inconsistent or incoherent at times, or grudgingly admits here and there that reality does not follow the prescribed path. (b) Chronicles conveyed to its historical audience knowledge about the different principles according to which God governs the world. For rhetorical reasons it usually conveyed knowledge about one or a few principles at a time, that is, in any of the many separate accounts that are in Chronicles. From this didactic feature it does not follow that Chronicles conveyed any sense of absoluteness to any of these principles. In fact, the book, as a whole, is written in such a way that resists such an interpretation. The communicative message of the book is clear in this respect: there are several principles which are intertwined; sometimes one seems to be the most relevant and sometimes another. Of course, this reconstruction of God’s ways leads to a less predictable world and allows for a variety of interpretations about historical events and about the actual experiences of the audience who is learning about God, Israel, and themselves from this book.

170

History, Literature and Theology in the Book of Chronicles Endnotes

* This chapter is a slightly modified version of a contribution first published as ‘A Sense of Proportion: An Aspect of the Theology of the Chronicler’, SJOT 9 (1995), pp. 37-51. I wish to express my gratitude to The Scandinavian Journal for the Study of the Old Testament for allowing me to republish this essay in the present volume. I wish to express my thanks also to my colleagues at the Canadian Society of Biblical Studies in whose 1993 Annual Meeting I presented the first version of this paper. 1. The basic methodological assumption on which this paper rests is that the historical-critical study of the communicative message of Chronicles must include both a discussion of the surface (or plain) historical meaning of the text, and an analysis of the implied messages conveyed to the historical audience by this text. By ‘reconstructed historically-likely communicative messages’ I mean those messages that seem to be conveyed directly or indirectly (implicatures) by the text under discussion and that are reasonable within the cultural/social milieu of the reading/learning community of the book. See Chapter 11 §1 and the bibliography mentioned there. 2. The term ‘retribution’ has negative connotations and unduly limits the scope of the Chronicler’s theological position (see, e.g., 2 Chron. 17.1-5; 27.6). For the terminology used here see B.S. Childs, Introduction to the Old Testament as Scripture (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1979), pp. 651-53. See also R.B. Dillard, ‘Reward and Punishment in Chronicles: The Theology of Immediate Retribution’, WTJ 46 (1984), pp. 164-72, esp. 165 n. 2. 3. See 2 Chron. 12.1-6; 21.12-17 (esp. vv. 16-17); 24.23-24; 25.14-22; 28.3-5, and passim. 4. Perhaps the most eloquent presentation of this aspect in 1–2 Chronicles remains J. Wellhausen, Prolegomena to the History of Israel (Cleveland and New York: Meridian Books, 1961; German original, Berlin: Reimer, 1883), pp. 203-11. See also R.B. Dillard, 2 Chronicles (WBC, 15; Waco, TX: Word Books, 1987), pp. 76-81. 5. See S. Japhet, The Ideology of the Book of Chronicles and its Place in Biblical Thought (BEATAJ, 9; Frankfurt am Main: P. Lang, 2nd rev. edn, 1997), pp. 191-98. 6. Cf. W. Rudolph, ‘Problems with the Books of Chronicles’, VT 4 (1954), pp. 401409 (405). I discussed many of the examples to follow in a separate article (see Chapter 11). In many regards, including methodology, the present discussion represents an offshoot of that study. Unlike that article, the aim of the present one is circumscribed to one main issue: to demonstrate that a sense of proportion pervades the theological/ideological thought conveyed by Chronicles. Such a sense of proportion is, in my opinion, key for a proper understanding of the theology/ideology of the Chronicler, i.e., the implied author of the book of Chronicles as construed by its primary and intended readers. 7. This story is of significant importance in the Chronicler’s reconstruction of Israel’s past because it leads to YHWH’s designation of the threshold of Ornan as the place for YHWH’s altar and temple. See, e.g., R. Braun, 1 Chronicles (WBC, 14; Waco, TX: Word Books, 1986), p. 218; H.G.M. Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles (NCBC; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1982), pp. 150-51. 8. ‫ על זאת‬belong to the next verse (v. 10) as suggested by the LXX. See, e.g., W. Rudolph, Chronikbücher (HAT: Tübingen: J.C.B. Mohr – Paul Siebeck, 1955),


171

p. 294. It is noteworthy, however, that even if this is the case the basic communicative message will not undergo a substantial change, only a formal one from a clearly implied to a more explicit one. 9. I referred to this issue elsewhere; see E. Ben Zvi, ‘The Dialogue between Abraham and YHWH in Gen. 18.23-32: A Historical–Critical Analysis’, JSOT 53 (1992), pp. 27-46, esp. 42-43 n. 2. 10. For the importance of the story within the reported history of Chronicles, see, Japhet, Ideology, pp. 473-74. 11. It is worth noting that there is no evidentiary independent basis for the validity of the premise mentioned. Not only that this premise is necessary for the rejection of the ‘plain’ interpretation of 1 Chron. 21.14, which by itself would contradict the premise, but also there are other texts in Chronicles that contradict it, as shown in this paper. This is not to deny, of course, that the Chronicler pointed to numerous ‘historical’ events that were ‘governed’ by the mentioned coherence between actions and effects. 12. Wellhausen, Prolegomena, p. 209; Japhet, Ideology, p. 162. 13. The implicatures and implications of this account are many, some of which will be discussed later in this article. 14. I claimed elsewhere that the Chronicler tends to sustain the idea of a general uniformity through time in God’s ways of governing the world. See Chapter 11, §4. If I am correct in this respect, then much caution is due in assessing the value of the ‘unique’ character of an event reported in Chronicles. 15. On 2 Chron. 36.20-21, see M. Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation in Ancient Israel (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1988), pp. 480-81; Dillard, 2 Chronicles, pp. 301-302; Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles, pp. 417-18, and the bibliography cited in the latter. The identification of the 70 years and its relation to a possible framework of 490 years (see S.J. de Vries, 1 and 2 Chronicles (FOTL, XI; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1989), pp. 18-19) may point to additional and very significant issues in the Chronicler’s thought and deserve a separate study. In any case they are not critical for the argument advanced in this paper. 16. On the importance of the fulfillment of prophecies in Chroniclers, see Y. Kaufmann, The History of the Israelite Religion (4 vols.; Jerusalem: Mosad Bialik, 1936–37, 1955–56; Hebrew), IV, p. 459. In addition, the idea of the land ‘requiring’ its sabbatical years may have played a main role. The latter topic is related to a certain interpretation of Leviticus, see footnote above. 17. See Japhet, Ideology, pp. 379-86, esp. 385-86 18. Cf. 2 Chron. 18.1-27 (//1 Kgs 22.1-28; the story of Micaiah, the son of Imlah) and 2 Chron. 25.14-16 (the conflict between king Amaziah and a prophet; no parallel material is found in Kings). 19. See A. Rofé, The Prophetical Stories (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 1988), pp. 197213, esp. 205. 20. Such a ‘classical’ statement of martyrology may suggest Hellenistic influence, but the latter does not necessarily imply an Hellenistic rather than a Persian date for Chronicles, because of the marked Hellenistic influence during the Persian period. See, e.g., G.N. Knoppers, ‘Greek Historiography and the Chronicler’s History: A Reexamination’, JBL 122 (2003), pp. 627-50, esp. 647-50 and bibliography cited there.

172


21. On the relatively de-emphasized chosenness of Israel in Chronicles, see Japhet, Ideology, pp. 88-96, esp. 92-94. Such chosenness is, nevertheless, implied in that of Jerusalem, David, the temple, and in the particular character of Israel as a people living according to the divine teachings given to Moses. 22. See Chapter 11, §2.1. 23. Of course, the previously mentioned accounts of the persecution of Hanani and Zechariah at the hands of Asa and Yehoash, respectively, are important exceptions to this rule. 24. See Zeph. 1.12; Ps. 10.4, 11, 13; 14.1 = 53.2; Mal. 2.17, all of which refute the idea that God does nothing, as well as the implications that may follow from it. 25. Cf. Augustine, On Christian Doctrine, IV, 13.12; 19.38. 26. Cf. the classical confutatio or refutatio. See Chapter 11, §2.1. 27. The king must be ‘human’ if accounts concerning him are to be relevant to the task of deriving knowledge about the relation between God and the individual. 28. Japhet, Ideology, p. 163. Japhet herself notices that, ‘the separation of king and people is not consistent’, but she does not develop the point nor sees this as pointing to a nuanced and complex theological thought on the part of the Chronicler. It is worth noting that this separation is already well developed in dtr-N. Cf. E. Ben Zvi, ‘The Account of the Reign of Manasseh in II Reg 21,1-18 and the Redactional History of the Book of Kings’, ZAW 103 (1991), pp. 355-74, esp. 367-71. The position that in Chronicles ‘one man’s (sic) acts cannot determine another’s destiny’ has been already refuted in this paper. 29. See 2 Chron. 28.6; cf. 2 Macc. 12.40. See also Chapter 11, §3. 30. For instance, cf. 2 Sam. 6.2 and 1 Chron. 13.1-5. On this issue, see Japhet, Ideology, pp. 417-27. The example mentioned is discussed there on p. 423. 31. As expected, the Chronicler demonstrates that this feature also, though widely supported by ‘history’, is not always attested. In 2 Chron. 16.10, the Chronicler points to righteous people who do stand against a wrongdoing king and his ‘influence’. 32. Notice the common report represented by ‫וַ יִּ ְק ְבּ ֻרהוּ ְבּ ִעיר ָדּוִ יד וְ לֹא ְבּ ִק ְברוֹת‬ ‫( ַה ְמּ ָל ִכים‬2 Chron. 21.20; Jehoram of Judah and cf. 2 Kgs 8.24; 2 Kgs 9.28 and 2 Chron. 22.9 (Ahaziah of Judah); 2 Kgs 12.22 and 2 Chron. 24.25 (Jehoash of Judah); 2 Kgs 16.20 with 2 Chron. 28.27 (Ahaz). That the denial of royal honors occurs in concurrence with divine judgment was noted by J. Wellhausen (Prolegomena, p. 205), among others. 33. See Chapter 11. 34. See 2 Chron. 20.32-33 (cf. 1 Kgs 22.43-44) and 2 Chron. 27.2 (cf. 2 Kgs 14.34-35); but note that 2 Chron. 25.2 (cf. 2 Kgs 14.3-4) and 2 Chron. 26.4 (cf. 2 Kgs 15.3-4) differ. That the meaning conveyed in Chronicles is that the Davidic king is human but certainly not a ‘regular’ human stands in certain tension with Japhet, Ideology, p. 428. 35. See E. Bickerman, From Ezra to the Last of the Maccabees: Foundations of Postbiblical Judaism (New York: Schocken Books, 1962), p. 26, Rudolph, ‘Problems’, pp. 405-406, and especially Japhet, Ideology, pp. 176-91. 36. It is unclear whether 2 Chron. 25.16 claims that God decided to destroy Amaziah because the king rejected the word of the prophet of his own will, or whether Amaziah rejected the word of the prophet because God has already decided


173

to destroy Amaziah. Perhaps the text is intentionally ambiguous. On God ‘misleading’ kings in Chronicles, see also 2 Chron. 18.18-22 (//2 Kgs 19.19-23). 37. For the qualification of the ‘historical’ validity of the principle of warning before punishment, see the account of Ahaz in 2 Chronicles 28. There the Northern Israelites are warned (vv. 9-10) – and heed the warning; significantly, the main character of the account, Ahaz is never warned. The accounts of prophetic martyrology, mentioned earlier in this paper, are balanced by the report in 2 Chron. 36.15-16 which does not mention that the prophets were murdered, even if such a notice would have been expected (cf. Jub. 1.3). The principle of freedom of choice is further qualified by the conveyed message of 1 Chron. 22.12, according to which Solomon, and by extension any person, needs ‫‘ שכל ובינה‬insight and understanding’ to follow God’s teaching (cf. 2 Chron. 2.11). The ‘sense of proportion’ is also set in proportion within the message of the book. For instance, that there is one God, YHWH, that Israel should follow the teachings of YHWH, that there cannot be a non-Davidic legitimate king over Israel, that there cannot be a legitimate temple for YHWH except in Jerusalem, and other basic propositions are not qualified by other propositions.

Chapter 9 OBSERVATIONS ON WOMEN IN THE GENEALOGIES OF 1 CHRONICLES 1–9* (Co-authored with A. Labahn) Although these chapters contain numerous references to males, they also contain references to more than 50 different women, named or unnamed. These references construe women as fulfilling a variety of roles in society, and characterize and identify them in various ways. Although the text was (most likely) written by male literati for male literati and reflects a patriarchal point of view, it contains references that indicated to the ancient readers of the book that ideologically construed gender expectations may and have been transgressed in the past and with good results. The goal of this article is to advance preliminary, basic observations about some of these references to women in the genealogical lists, within the historical context of the society for which the book of Chronicles was composed.1 It is our hope that by doing so, this paper will lead to future, more detailed studies on these topics. For the purpose of the present endeavor, it seems heuristically helpful to classify the roles assigned to women in 1 Chronicles 1–9 into two categories: (a) those in which they are involved in lineage roles often associated with female members of an ancient household and (b) those representing roles that were commonly assigned to mature males in the society in general, or in their household.2 It should be stressed already that the borders between (a) and (b) are represented as porous in Chronicles. Although most of the women referred to under category (a) are reported to perform ‘traditional’ roles, a significant number of them are described as successfully fulfilling roles usually associated with males within the main (male) discourses of the time. As a result, the reading and rereading of these genealogies reminded the (male) literati, for whom they were written, again and again, that common social (including gender and, as we will see, ethnic) boundaries have, at times, been transgressed in the past, and that the results of these ‘transgressions’ has been positive.3 These remind-

9. Observations on Women in the Genealogies of 1 Chronicles 1–9 175 ers set in proportion the claims for boundaries that are implicitly advanced by the same genealogies. The result is a more nuanced ideological viewpoint on these matters, one in which claims made at one point are shown to be neither categorically nor universally valid, and one that allows for flexible explanations of events in Israel's construction of the past, and in the lives of the readers as well.4 Although genealogies deal with ideological construction, it is reasonable to assume that the references to females fulfilling male roles reflect to some extent the actual state of the society in Yehud,5 just as those referring to them in ‘traditional’ roles do. Thus, the constructed world of the genealogies may shed light on Yehudite Israel. 1. Family/Lineage Roles of Women The most central of all traditional roles of women in biblical – and other ancient Near Eastern – literature and society was that of mothers.6 Needless to say, the male literati responsible for this literature were well aware that only women had the biological ability to give birth to children and therefore to maintain, through the continuous sequence of (female) childbirth, the continuation of a genealogical line and of society as a whole. It is worth stressing that any genealogical list therefore, at least implicitly, acknowledges and communicates the centrality of childbirth and of the females in society, even if they remain unmentioned in the literary portrait, and if they are excluded from the explicit wording of the text. In fact, even these ‘erasures’ of women speak volumes. Of course, the birthing of new generations was understood within the realm of a (traditional, patriarchal) family. Thus women were not only mothers of children but also wives of husbands, or at least concubines (‫ )פילגש‬of the father with whom they had children.7 As expected in any ancient Near Eastern society, in 1 Chronicles 1–9 women are also referred to and identified as daughters of someone. In addition, there are explicit references to women in another type of basic kinship relation, namely in terms of sisters, either as a sister of the pater familias in the older generation or as a sister of a son within the younger generation of children of the household of the father. Although these references are not absolutely necessary to maintain the (patriarchal) lineage, the genealogies of Chronicles mention several women in these kinship relations. 1. Mother—Wife As expected, women are often mentioned in the genealogies of Chronicles as mothers. For instance, in 1 Chron. 2.21, the readers of the book find a

176


reference to the daughter of Machir, the father of Gilead (notice the usual construction of identity as daughter of X). Her husband, Hezron, married her when he was 60 years old – her age is not mentioned, see below. She bore a son, Segub. In 2.24 the text mentions Abijah, wife of Hezron, who after the death of her husband bore him a son, Ashhur, who became the father of Tekoa.8 Hodesh was the mother of seven sons (1 Chron. 8.9). Maacah, the wife of the father of Gibeon, appears twice, in 1 Chron. 8.29 and 9.35. The text seems to suggest that she gave birth to nine or ten sons, depending on the verse, whose names are transmitted subsequently and who, as expected, are textually inscribed as the sons of her husband. Several other examples of references to women who bore children appear elsewhere in the genealogies.9 In a significant number of cases nothing is said about the women/ mothers. In fact, they remain unnamed, anonymous,10 even when references to named mothers appear in textual proximity of their own, and even if they are supposed to be of ‘higher status’ than the named mothers. This is the case in 1 Chron. 2.42-46; the implied wife of Caleb, who had at least three sons – the exact number of children remains unclear – remains unnamed, but the same does not hold true for his ‫פילגש‬, who was the mother of two of his sons. The latter was certainly not viewed by the historical readership as enjoying a higher status than the former in the household, and the explicit association of children with her serves to separate the two branches of the family in a way that within the discourse of the period gives preference to those by the higher status mother. Yet it is worth noting that the text here does not want the readers to associate naming with status, quite the opposite. A similar case occurs in 1 Chron. 2.25-26. The text in 2.25 informs the readers that an implicit, but unnamed first wife of Jerahmeel bore him five sons. The next verse informs them that Jerahmeel also had another wife, whose name was Atarah and who was the mother of Onam. The reference to the ‘other’ woman (‫)אשה אחרת‬ serves to create an ideological hierarchy between the two, to separate ‘his’ son from the other sons. Significantly, the lower status woman is the one that is named in the text, and about whom something is said. Further, the wording of the text is worthy of notice; Atarah is referred to as ‘the mother of Onam’, but not explicitly as ‘the wife of Jerahmeel’.11 Yet at least when it comes to royal wives, the presence of information characterizing the mothers, even if it is minimal, cannot be associated with lower status.12 It is worth mentioning that ‘wives/women’ are mentioned next to ‘sons’ in a context of military troops and military heads of families in 1 Chron. 7.4. The text communicates and reflects a viewpoint that directly associ-

9. Observations on Women in the Genealogies of 1 Chronicles 1–9 177 ates wives/women, along with ‘sons’, with the military potential of the group. The implied association seems to be that the number of wives is proportional to the number of potential sons/soldiers in the army. As in other texts in the Hebrew Bible, ‘wives/mothers’ may also be described as giving names to their children (cf. Gen. 4.25; 29.33; 30.11, 13, 20, 21, 24; 38.3, 4; but note Gen. 4.26; 5.3, 29; 17.19; 21.3).13 For instance, 1 Chron. 7.16 informs the readers of the book that Maachah named her son Peresh (forming a wordplay to his brother’s name Sheresh) and another unnamed mother is mentioned in 1 Chron. 7.23 who gave birth to a son of Ephraim, after a period of distress that afflicted the household and – within the explicit world of the text – the male head of the household in particular (see 1 Chron. 7.21-22) and consequently, in this case, the father names the child in a way that recalls that distress. Yet, the readers of the book are also told that the distress of mothers may also influence, and has influenced the naming and future of their children. 1 Chron. 4.9 informs them that the unnamed mother of Jabez named her son in reference to her own experiences. The theme of the mother’s painful effort reflected in his name is then literarily transformed into the glory of her son through the blessing of YHWH (1 Chron. 4.10; see word play on ‫בעצב‬, ‫יעבץ‬, ‫ יעבץ‬and ‫ ;עצבי‬vv. 9-10). Symbolically, the mother and her experiences become embodied and transformed in the life of her son. It gives notice that the role assigned to Jabez’s mother is far more important in the periscope than that of his father, who goes totally unmentioned – and is perhaps, partially and symbolically substituted by YHWH who provides him with land, that is, a main component of a patrimonial inheritance – and of his brothers, whose only role is to characterize him through contrast; namely they appear just so that it may be stated that they are less honored than him. Jabez’s sons are not mentioned.14 The explicit, textual presence of what in the present form of the text might be another unnamed mother is obvious in 1 Chron. 4.17, because of the occurrence of the verb ‫‘ ותהר‬and she became pregnant’. It is unclear whether the mother mentioned in that verse is Bithiah (without textual emendation, see Radak; with textual emendation, see, e.g., Japhet), or Ezrah if the latter can be understood as feminine, which is dubious (cf. Johnstone), or whether the mother is presented without any name.15 The entire pericope (1 Chron. 4.17-18) is, however, very clear on another matter. It associates and classifies two mothers by their ethnic origin. One is a Judahite (or Jewish?) and the other is Egyptian. Significantly, the book of Chronicles informs its intended and primary readers that the children of both are included in the Israelite genealogies. One may add also that the

178


Egyptian is characterized, on the one hand, emphatically as an outsider (‘Egyptian’ and ‘daughter of Pharaoh’),16 but, on the other hand, she is clearly Israelitized by means of her name; she is ‫בתיה‬, ‘Bithiah’, that is, a daughter/worshipper of YHWH, not of Pharaoh.17 It seems, therefore, that a text in the genealogies suggests to the intended and primary readers that, at least in the case of women, the ‘ethnicity’ of their origin (and accordingly, their genealogy) does not fully disappear with marriage to an Israelite, but that in the end, such ethnicity does not matter for inclusion or exclusion from Israel, because the main differentiating line is that of worshipper of YHWH and non-worshipper of YHWH (on this matter see also below). Another interesting element in this pericope is that Miriam, most likely a daughter not a son, is mentioned first in a list of children.18 Another matter is suggested by 1 Chron. 1.50. There, within a seemingly common reference in a list of male characters (X and the name of his wife was Y), there is a reference to Mehetabel, the wife of Hadad. The interesting point for the present study is that Mehetabel is described as the daughter of Matred, daughter of Me-zahab.19 Thus the readership is informed of one important woman, a queen for that matter, who is identified as the daughter of her mother, rather than as the daughter of a male father. One may notice that, in fact, her father is not mentioned at all. It is worth mentioning that the Syriac seems to be aware of such an ‘anomaly’ in a patriarchal society and attempts to erase it by turning the second ‘daughter of’ into ‘son of’. 20 The change only underscores the atypical character of the information communicated by the book of Chronicles at this point, of the construction of the identity of a person as son of his mother, and only his mother, rather than of his father. Moreover, even Matred may be identified as the daughter of her mother, since Me-zahab (Hebrew ‫ )מי זהב‬may be either a male or a female name. (It is possible that the context here favors a female name since there is no reference to the father of Matred’s daughter). The important lineage thus runs through the women who maintain it instead of the male figures. Just as there is room in the genealogies of Chronicles for a woman who is explicitly identified as a daughter of her mother instead of the daughter of her father (on ‘daughter’, see below), there is room also for sons identified as sons of their mothers. The readers of Chronicles are told of Zeruiah and Abigail. As it is well known, the sons of Zeruiah were identified only by their mother, rather than of their father who remains anonymous.21 More importantly, the intended readers of the book cannot fail to notice the wording of 1 Chron. 2.16-17. Here both, Zeruiah and Abigail, that is, two mothers are allocated the expected role of males in a genealogical list.

9. Observations on Women in the Genealogies of 1 Chronicles 1–9 179 Moreover, out of the two fathers, one goes unmentioned and the other, Jether, is assigned to a slot comparable to that of a wife and bearer of children.22 Given the explicit foreign association of Jether in Chronicles,23 one might be tempted to surmise that the book reflects here a tendency to give preference to the inner Israelite connection, but a more ‘global’ perspective is easily recognizable in Chronicles. In fact, references to explicitly foreign ethnic backgrounds in the Judahite genealogical lists are quite prominent in the book, and likely stood as a critical response to ideological tendencies such as those expressed in Ezra and Nehemiah (see discussion above, and see also below).24 Since Chronicles emphasizes David to a great extent, and since in Chronicles Zeruiah and Abigail are characterized as sisters of David,25 it is possible that their higher status here is related to the claim in Chronicles that they were sisters of David and daughters of Jesse.26 Yet the readers are clearly told that in their case, the family lineage is to be construed according to the mother rather than the father.27 There is another, unequivocal case that reminded the intended and primary readers of the genealogies that the family lineage may, at times, be identified and maintained through the maternal side. In other words, that mothers may on occasion take the structural role commonly associated with fathers. The readers of Chronicles are informed that an ancient Judahite father who had no sons married his unnamed daughter 28 to a man who was both an Egyptian and his slave. The result of such action was generations of Judahites (1 Chron. 2.34-35). The house of the father could be maintained, because his daughter became structurally speaking a ‘son’.29 Of course, these are not common cases, but the message of Chronicles here is clear, gender and ethnic boundaries may be crossed and have been successfully crossed in the past,30 when the situation warranted it. It is worth noting that, as shown above, some of the references to mothers in the genealogies include not only an explicit mention that they bore their husbands’ children, and mainly, his sons, but also some additional information about themselves. Such references would have been superfluous had the male literati imagined women only as walking wombbearers for their husbands/mates, with absolutely no significance of their own. Given that genealogies construct a self-image of the community and shape borders of inclusion and exclusion and a ‘historical’ memory to back them up, it is worth stressing that in a number of cases the additional information about the mothers concerns their place of origin.31 The readers of Chronicles are told unequivocally that some of the mentioned mothers, and particularly so within the Judahite genealogies, were

180


foreigners.32 It bears notice that the women mentioned with their place of origin – whether Israelites or ‘foreigner’ – are treated in the same way as other women in the genealogies. The text does not suggest to its readers a disapproval of marriages of Israelites/Judahites with foreign wives in principle, nor that there was something wrong with that of a Judahite woman and an Egyptian slave.33 To be sure, there is, in some cases, a clear Israelitization of the woman (see the case of Bithiah, above), but even this Israelitization does not erase her foreign origin. These references to ‘foreign’ mothers, and particularly so in the genealogies, makes sense in Persian times when the polity of Yehud interacted with neighbor polities in political, administrative, economic and marital realms; the latter at least within the upper classes. Compare this with the situation that was so criticized in Ezra–Nehemiah.34 These references are consistent with a positive attitude and open relation toward neighboring countries that is clearly at odds with that advanced in Ezra–Nehemiah, but consistent with prominent references to ‘foreign’ (fore)mothers or wives of praiseworthy leaders of Israel in the past that consistently appear in the construction of the past that was agreed upon, shared by and textually inscribed in the writings of the literati of Yehud (e.g., Zipporah [Moses], Osnat [Joseph], Ruth [David], Naamah [Solomon, foremother of all the Judahite kings and of any future Davidic king]). 2. Mother—Concubine Concubines are mentioned as mothers in Chronicles,35 and although their numbers in the book is not large, a total of four individuals, besides the generic reference to David’s concubines,36 three of them are mentioned by name, even if and perhaps particularly when the name of the main wife is omitted. As for the fourth, although her name is not given, it is explicitly stated that she was an Aramean (1 Chron. 7.14; on ‘foreign mothers’, see above).37 Turning to the other three, Ephah, Caleb's concubine, and their sons are mentioned in 1 Chron. 2.46,38 and those of Maachah, another concubine of Caleb, in 1 Chron. 2.48-49. They and their children are presented as an integral part of the family structure, even if they and their sons are listed subsequently to the descendents of Caleb and an unnamed implied wife (2 Chron. 2.43-45). The most remarkable instance of the construction of the role of a concubine in these genealogies concerns Keturah.39 First, the precise choice of wording closely links 1 Chron. 1.32 to 1 Chron. 1.28. The connoted message conveyed to the readers is clear: Keturah, ‘Abraham’s concubine’,

9. Observations on Women in the Genealogies of 1 Chronicles 1–9 181 takes, as it were, the structural role of Abraham, and her sons (i.e., the sons of Abraham and her) are to be identified with her (see 1 Chron. 1.32-33). To be sure she and ‘her’ descendents are still listed subsequently to those of Abraham, but contrary to the case of Isaac and Ishmael who are presented as Abraham’s, theirs are constructed as hers. Significantly, neither Sarah nor Hagar, for that matter, are mentioned in Chronicles. Of course, one may think of a variety of reasons for the tendency to separate between Abraham and children other than Isaac and Ishmael, but the fact remains that the readers for whom the book of Chronicles was written cannot but construe an image of a concubine who establishes an important lineage that is clearly identified by her name, rather than by that of a famous ancient male hero.40 3. Mother—Divorcee One does not expect many references to divorcees in 1 Chronicles 1–9, but if they are mentioned, how are they constructed? In addition, what would their slot be in the genealogies if they bore children to the former husband? The ancient readers are informed of two divorcees of the same man, Shaharaim, in 1 Chron. 8.8-11. One of the two bore sons; by implication, the readers are supposed to understand that the other did not.41 The man, the readers are told, married a third, ‘new wife’ who was named, significantly, Hodesh, Heb. ‫חדש‬. The text mentions the seven sons of this third wife first and following the report about their names adds, ‘these were his sons, heads of ancestral houses’ (v. 9; emphasis ours) that suggests that the household of the man was directly continued through his sons by Hodesh. Yet, in the next verse, the text mentions the names of the two sons whom he begot by his divorcee, Husham, (most likely) before he divorced her. As this lineage is set after that of the ‘new’ wife of the man, the divorcee seems to hold the structural slot of the concubine. It is worth stressing that although the list associated with Husham is not as impressive in numbers as that associated with Hodesh, the text explicitly states that it is the lineage by Husham that leads to a man who is reported to have built Ono and Lod and their towns, a deed that is understood within this discourse as an expression of divine blessing on the one who performed it. In other words, although the status of the divorcee was constructed as lower than that of the new, ‘current’ wife, her children may still serve as potential leaders in Israel. One should mention also that this account carries an additional level of meaning. Divorce here is associated with geographical (and ideological) borders. Shaharaim bore sons by Hodesh in (the Field of) Moab, after he divorced his two earlier wives. At

182


least one of the two is explicitly associated with lands in which Benjamin settled, through her descendents, and by association, they both are.42 4. Daughter-in-Law—Mother There is one case of this situation, that of Tamar in 1 Chron. 2.4.43 The story alluded here is that of Genesis 38.44 If the reference to Tamar evoked in the readership the memory of that story, as it is likely, then the proactive and decisive role of Tamar in maintaining the (patrilineal) Judahite lineage and eventually the Davidic one was also brought to their attention. This is one particular version of a common motif that may be encapsulated in ‘when the men fail to fulfill their duties then their wives take action and save the day’ (cf. Judith). This version, however, addresses matters of sexual and reproductive control. It is not surprising that even if Tamar’s actions led to the continuation of the patriarchal lineage, later literature attempted to ‘tame’ the character of Tamar.45 5. Identity as Daughter or Sister Women may belong to, or be associated with, households as ‘daughters’ or as ‘sisters’. The ancient readers of 1 Chronicles 1–9 were told and were asked to imagine women whose identity is explicitly associated with that of their fathers (e.g., 1 Chron. 3.2.5; 4.18).46 It is worth stressing that these women may also fulfill the roles of wife and mother, but their identities remained tied also to that of their fathers. However, they are unable to pass that portion of their identity to their sons, who belong to a different household than the one from which they came. Yet in some cases, the identity of their sons is construed by the text, at least in part, around theirs too, in addition to that of their husbands.47 In this regard, because of the obvious prominence of the people involved, the precise wording, ‫ואלה נולדו לו בירושלים שמעא ושובב ונתן ושלמה ארבעה לבת שוע בת עמיאל‬, in 1 Chron. 3.5 is particularly noteworthy, for it seems to connote a parallel structure linking David and Batshua (note the shared preposition ‫ ל‬in ‫לו‬ and ‫ ;לבת שוע‬and the at least connoted double ‫)נולדו‬. The genealogies in 1 Chronicles 1–9 also included instances in which daughters and sons were born.48 If these daughters/sisters were not associated with progeny in the account, then the text might have suggested to the readers that these women perhaps never married and remained a part of the patriarchal house (e.g., 1 Chron. 1.39; 3.9) and that their situation reflected social norms at the time, though the number of unmarried women was probably very low in ancient Yehud. Yet caution is certainly warranted. In some cases, the issue might be the prominence of the lineage of the woman or of the woman herself (e.g., 1 Chron. 3.19). Moreover, women

9. Observations on Women in the Genealogies of 1 Chronicles 1–9 183 similarly mentioned were explicitly associated with progeny. For instance, and to illustrate the case, the intended and primary readers of the book most likely thought that Achsah (1 Chron. 2.49) did marry, and moved from the household of her father to that of her husband, to which she made a substantial contribution (see Josh. 15.16-19; Judg. 1.12-15). When the readers were asked to imagine cases in which daughters but no sons were born, a number of related issues arose. A case has already been studied above (1 Chron. 2.34-35) and there the daughter takes, as it were, the structural role of the son, and her husband, that of a wife. The reference to the daughters of Zelophehad in 1 Chron. 7.15 evoked the memory of a similar case, though the solution reached there is somewhat, although not altogether, different (cf. Num. 26.33; 27.1-7; 36.1-12; Josh. 17.3-6).49 As mentioned above, the genealogies include some references to daughters mentioned by name alongside their brothers.50 For instance, in 1 Chron. 2.49 the readers were told of Achsa (see also 1 Chron. 2.16-17; 3.9, 19; 4.3, 27; 7.30, 32). At times descendants are attributed to the mentioned daughter (1 Chron. 2.16-17; 4.27), but in other instances children are not mentioned. Although some of these women were prominent, or their names were, this does not hold true of all of them.51 Their presence in the text is related to their being part of a household (see above). To be sure, they are mentioned after the brothers or sons, but still it is worth noting that they were mentioned even if a (male) genealogy could have easily omitted them. One reference to a sister raises a different set of issues. 1 Chronicles 7.17-18 mentions Hammolecheth, whose name, incidentally, conveys the meaning of ‘she who reigns’52 and who is probably presented as the sister of Machir (1 Chron. 7.17), though the text may be understood as construing her as the sister of Giled (1 Chron. 7.14).53 The intended readership of Chronicles is told that she is not only a sister to an important character in the Manassite list, but also the mother of three sons. There is no reference to the father of these sons, and they and now her lineage are brought together with that of her brother. In this case, the text asks the readers to imagine a metaphorical,54 transgenerational household in which the sons of a sister of the head of the family are included, rather than being associated with those of the husband of the sister. In other words, the sons of the unnamed father followed for one generation a matrilineal instead of the usual patrilineal line. May we infer that in this case, ‘being sister of X’ carried more weight than ‘being a wife of X’?55 A somewhat similar case is that of Zeruiah, David’s sister (see above), whose sons are associated with the lineage of Jesse (and the household of

184


David). For all purposes she fulfills the role of a (male) head of her section of the family, to the point that her (anticipated) husband is not demoted to a subordinate position (cf. 1 Chron. 2.34-35) but eliminated. All in all, it is significant that there are instances in which sisters/daughters are mentioned alongside brothers/sons. As sisters are mentioned alongside their brothers or fathers, the text seems to accentuate their position within their particular families. Chronicles here seems to trespass the borders of a set of ideologically construed values according to which sisters were not supposed to posses a specific, broad influence within a family, nor were conceived as fulfilling an ideologically outstanding, permanent role within the social structure of a family, as opposed to, for instance, wife/mother of sons. The construction of these sisters is still somewhat ambiguous, because on the one hand they are still bound to a social structure that was considered as valid and authoritative, but on the other hand, the text seems to suggest to their intended (male) readership that they, at times, stepped beyond the boundaries of their expected roles, and blessing followed. As is typical of Chronicles, theological or ideological claims advanced in some, or even many accounts are informed and balanced by contrasting claims advanced elsewhere in the book.56 2. Women in Roles Commonly Assigned to Mature Males in the Society 1 Chronicles 1–9 presents some women in roles that were commonly assigned to mature males in the society. When Chronicles tells its (intended and primary) readers of women who fulfilled the role of maintaining the (male) lineage, it asks them to imagine them as taking the role regularly assigned to the (male) head of a family. When Chronicles tells these readers of women who built cities, again it asks them to image these women as taking upon themselves roles unequivocally associated with males. Significantly, none of these cases of ‘transgression’ are condemned; quite the opposite, they are associated with blessing. On the one hand, Chronicles certainly reflects and reinforces traditional gender roles in society, but on the other at times it subverts their claim to categorical, non-contingent validity. As mentioned above, it is possible that these ‘subversions’ reflected the actual situation of at least some women in Persian period Yehud.57 1. Women as Heads of the Family To begin with, the role of ‘head’ of the family most likely implied activity in the so-called ‘public’ sphere represented by men acting publicly in society.

9. Observations on Women in the Genealogies of 1 Chronicles 1–9 185 In 1 Chron. 2.16-17 Zeruiah and Abigail are presented as mothers maintaining lineage and fulfilling functions of heads of a family. In sociological terms, the role of maintaining lineage implies several duties. One important implication is that the woman/matriarch has to lead the family, represent it in public, manage its properties and the goods it produces, participate in trades as required and the like. In addition, heads of family participated in local, ‘political’ life of their community. Ordinarily, it was men who fulfilled all these roles. When Chronicles asks its readers to imagine women as heads of a family, does it imply that these women stepped fully in this particular male world? It might be debated if the readers were asked to imagine these women as representing the family in official tasks, like those associated with ‘the elders’, ‘the heads of the ancestral families’, or ‘all Israel’.58 It might also be debatable whether women served in these positions, even if only occasionally, in Yehud or not. But, it is most likely that these readers were asked to imagine and did imagine these women as taking care of the economic life of the household, with all its implications concerning the management of property, ability to trade goods and the like, as well as the person holding the decisive authority within the household on internal matters. Are there clues in the genealogies that suggest that the readers of Chronicles were asked also to imagine a world in which women could have, even if rarely, fulfilled clearly communal leadership roles and be assigned the prestige associated with these (male) roles? 2. Women Building Cities Within the world of the Hebrew Bible, men build cities (e.g., Gen. 4.17; Josh. 19.50; Judg. 1.26). Nowhere in the Hebrew Bible, except for 1 Chron. 7.24, is any woman referred to as a city builder. Against this background, the atypical character of the explicit report about a woman who built cities in 1 Chron. 7.24 is self-evident. In addition, it certainly bears note that the theme of building cities is in itself very uncommon in 1 Chronicles 1–9. In fact, there is only this reference to a woman who built three cities (one incidentally, carrying her own name; 1 Chron. 7.24), and that about a man who built two cities in 1 Chron. 8.12. Incidentally, this man is a grandson of the divorced woman mentioned in 1 Chron. 8.8, 11 (see above). Further, the case of Sheerah is presented as even more remarkable, because she is not the only child of the head of the household. Her father has a son, and perhaps more than one (see below), but she is the builder. Clearly, Sheerah’s actions are evaluated in a very positive way. Building activities within Israel reflect divine blessing within the ideology of the

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book of Chronicles59 and accordingly, the readers of the book are asked to understand Sheerah’s actions as both a blessing and a reflection of a divine blessing. Further, the text plays on the contrast between the association of blessing with Sheerah (i.e., the daughter) and of disaster with her brother, ‫‘( בריעה‬Beriah’; see 1 Chron. 7.23), who is ‘the son’ of the father. The readers were also told that Sheerah’s name, and her prestige remained in the community, as one of her cities carried it (Uzzen-sheerah). Is Sheerah described as having a progeny of her own? Or is her ‘name’ maintained only by the city that carries her name and the memory (‫ )זכר‬of her actions (cf. Sir. 40.19)?60 The latter seems to be the case. The male genealogical list in 1 Chron. 7.25-27 that leads directly to none but Joshua the son of Nun begins with ‫‘( רפה‬Rephah’) who is either the son of Beriah (Sheerah’s brother) or of Ephraim (Sheerah’s father). If the latter is the case, then the slot associated with Sheerah in the list of children of Ephraim is highly irregular and would call attention to itself and to her role as city builder. Yet it all hinges on the question of the identity of the referent of the 3rd masc. suffix in ‫( ורפח בנו‬v. 25) and it is probably more likely that it goes back to Beriah.61 To be sure, there is no reason to assume that the report about Sheerah is a faithful memory of actual events in which she was involved.62 At the same time, it is worth considering whether the fact that a text maintaining that a woman may occasionally, but successfully fulfill even such a role was composed within and for the literati of the Persian period addresses ideological concerns that have no bearing whatsoever upon the actual conditions of the society in which the literati lived. In addition to the considerations advanced above, one may note that at that time one finds some seals bearing the names of women. Although rare, if such seals were actually used by the mentioned women – and there is no substantial reason to assume that they were not – then they show that some elite women owned property, were involved in trade and financial affairs, and controlled goods owned by or produced by their household.63 In addition, if the situation in Elephantine is of any relevance to that of Yehud, then one is to assume that some, or at least a few women may have fulfilled these roles there.64 3. Conclusions A full study of the characterization of women in Chronicles should take into account the entire book. Moreover, the ancient readers did not approach the genealogies in 1 Chronicles 1–9 in a manner that was uninformed by the rest of the book. On the contrary, they read it as an integral

9. Observations on Women in the Genealogies of 1 Chronicles 1–9 187 part of the book of Chronicles. Yet the preceding discussion clearly leads to some conclusions. The genealogies shape and reflect an ideal and simplified construction of the past. It is a construction based on continuity grounded on lineages that were made possible through a sequence of birthings. The genealogies do not provide support for many negative characterizations of women in male discourses of the time and somewhat later periods. Women are not mentioned as whores, temptresses, impurity carriers, as leading men to the worship of other gods, nor are they constructed as essentially ‘passive’.65 Genealogies created an ideological world in which women cannot be dismissed, and in which they can become very active. To be sure, they also describe women in ways that maintain and reinforce the traditional female roles within the (patriarchal) family and associate them with divine blessing (i.e., progeny). Yet the same genealogies also provided its (male) readers with a substantial number of instances in which women took upon roles traditionally carried out by males. Moreover, these actions were viewed so favorable that there were associated with divine blessing. In sum, on the one hand, as expected, the genealogies reflected, carried and reinforced the main construction of family and family roles in a traditional ancient Near Eastern society, but on the other hand, it taught its intended and primary readers again and again that gender (and ethnic) boundaries could, were, and by inference can and should be transgressed by the Yehudite community on occasion, with divine blessing, and resulting in divine blessing.66 It is possible that this openness is related somewhat with the ‘frontier’ or ‘pioneer’ conditions in Yehud.67 To be sure, the social structure of Yehud rested on families as the smallest social unit.68 Given that social framework, the tendency towards group identification in ancient Israel (and most agrarian societies), and the general ideology of Chronicles, it is understandable that Chronicles would emphasize and approve the contribution of women for the enduring life of the family household, as well as for the Israelite society in general which is conceived in terms of a larger encompassing household – one which, to be sure, is constructed as having a particular relation with the deity, and a particular set of books and traditions that are grounded in such claimed relations. The latter consideration leads to the question of the people of foreign origin or ‘foreigners’ who are included in the ideal portrait of ‘all Israel’ in the genealogies in Chronicles. It is possible that such openness is related to the realia of the Persian period, in which provinces are linked with one another through administrative and economical traits. Under these conditions questions of self-identity and the shaping of borders for inclusion

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and exclusion are likely to arise. One option is to keep that openness and set Yehud apart from other provinces by theological or ideological claims about its relation with YHWH (see above). Within that frame outsiders may become Israelites and may join the genealogies of Israel (the encompassing household) if they are Israelitized.69 Endnotes * This chapter is a slightly modified version of a contribution that was first published as Antje Labahn and Ehud Ben Zvi, ‘Observations on Women in the Genealogies of 1 Chronicles 1-9’, Bib 84 (2003), pp. 457-78. I wish to express my gratitude to A. Labahn and Biblica for allowing me to republish this essay in the present volume. 1. In other words, this article concerns itself only with matters of ancient Israelite history. 2. It should be stressed that we are not advancing here the relatively common, but now more and more, and correctly under attack clear-cut dichotomy between ‘domestic’ and ‘public’ roles. Yet, even if one assumes that one of the basic metaphors that underlies the social imagination of ancient Israel (and most societies) in the ancient Near East was that of a ‘patrimonial household’, there were clear, gender-related social expectations. On the patrimonial household as the basic metaphor, see J.D. Schloen, The House of the Father as Fact and Symbol in Ugarit and the Ancient Near East (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2001). 3. See Chapter 2. 4. This is consistent with the general tendency in Chronicles to qualify the validity of most of the lessons that the readership could have learned from individual accounts by setting them ‘in proportion’ by lessons communicated elsewhere. See especially Chapters 2 and 8. 5. Cf. T.C. Eskenazi, ‘Out from the Shadows: Biblical Women in the Postexilic Era’, JSOT 54 (1992), pp. 25-43. 6. Of course, within the social discourse of the period, this role was directly associated with that of wife of a husband. Although, for obvious reasons, this article touches on both the construction (or constructions) of the family in ancient Israel and the actual life of families at that time, it is not a study of families or ‘the family’ in ancient Israel. 7. ‘Unattached’ women are not described as mothers of children who continue the family lineage in the ideological world of the genealogies. To be sure, this does not mean that no unattached women ever became pregnant and bore children in ancient Israel, nor that their children never found their way into society. The role of genealogies, however, is not to faithfully describe the social reality, but to construe an ideal world. 8. It is worth noting that the name Abijah (‫ )אביה‬occurs as a female name only in the book of Chronicles (1 Chron. 2.24 and 2 Chron. 29.1), elsewhere in the Hebrew Bible, and often in Chronicles itself, it appears as a male name (1 Sam. 5.2; 1 Chron. 3.10; 2 Chron. 11.20; Neh. 12.17). The Chronicler reinterprets the name of the mother of Hezekiah in 2 Kgs 18.2, namely ‫אבי‬, as a shortened form of ‫( אביה‬cf. 2 Kgs 18.2 with 2 Chron. 29.1). King ‫ אביה‬of Chronicles is, of course, King ‫ אבים‬of Kings.

9. Observations on Women in the Genealogies of 1 Chronicles 1–9 189 9. For instance, in 1 Chron. 4.5-7 two wives of Ashhur, the father of Tekoa, are mentioned as mothers with their sons, Naarah gave birth to four sons while Helah had three; in 1 Chron. 2.29 Abihail is mentioned – she has two children; in 1 Chron. 7.16 Maacah is mentioned as the wife of Machir and as a mother. 10. The larger issues associated with the characterization of individuals as nameless stands well beyond the scope of this contribution. It may be said, however, that the present study shows that namelessness does not mean total erasure. In fact, the tendency in the genealogies discussed here is to endow nameless characters with some identifying markers and, at times, with a bit of personal history, which is, in one way or another, intertwined somewhat with the social history of Israel and its lineages. 11. Effacing and particularly self-effacing were important and positive attributes within the discourses of the (male) literati in the Achaemenid period within whom and for whom the book of Chronicles was written. On self-effacing see E. Ben Zvi, ‘What is New in Yehud? Some Considerations’, in R. Albertz and B. Becking (eds.), Yahwism after the Exile: Perspectives on Israelite Religion in the Persian Era (STR, 5; Assen: Van Gorcum, 2003), pp. 32-48. 12. According to 1 Chron. 3.1-3 David had six sons in Hebron from six different mothers. There is not much information about any of them, but the least is said about the last three, Haggith, Abital, and Eglah. 13. For fathers giving names to children in the genealogies of Chronicles, see 1 Chron. 7.23, mentioned above. It is worth stressing that explicit references to fathers naming their children in Chronicles are rare. 14. For a recent treatment of the Jabez’s pericope in Chronicles and for some relevant bibliography see R. Christopher Heard, ‘Echoes of Genesis in 1 Chronicles 4.910: An Intertextual and Contextual Reading of Jabez’s Prayer’, JHS 4.2 (2002), article 2. 15. See S. Japhet, I and II Chronicles, pp. 114-15; W. Johnstone, 1 and 2 Chronicles. I. 1 Chronicles 1–2 Chronicles 9. Israel’s Place among the Nations (JSOTSup, 253; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997), pp. 62-63. 16. It goes without saying that the chances that an actual daughter of Pharaoh married a ‘nobody’ from Judah are nil. The text under discussion, however, does not deal with issues of critical history, but with matters associated with the construction of a social (and ideological) self in the Persian period. 17. For processes leading to the Israelitization of the ‘other’ see also Chapter 13. 18. It is possible that the prominence of the name ‘Miriam’ contributed to the choice of a person carrying that name for the first slot in the list. 19. The same information is communicated by Gen. 36.39. Some of the texts from 1 Chronicles 1–9 that will be discussed here have parallels elsewhere in the Hebrew Bible, and some do not. This article is not meant to reconstruct the compositional activities of the authorship, but the message that the book communicated to its ancient readership regarding the matters under discussion. This being so, the distinction between ‘parallel’ and ‘non-parallel’ texts in Chronicles is immaterial for the present endeavor. 20. Although the Syriac and the Arabian translation change the second bat into br while reading the preceding name as a male name the Hebrew transmission of the text itself is clear in this point.

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21. See 1 Sam. 26.6; 2 Sam. 2.13.18; 3.39; 8.16; 16.9; 18.2; 19.22, 23; 21.17; 23.18; 1 Kgs 1.7; 2.5, 22; 1 Chron. 11.6, 39; 18.12, 15; 26.28; 27.24. In 2 Sam. 17.25 it is Zeruiah who is identified as Joab’s mother. 22. Cf. 1 Chron. 1.50; 2.29; 8.29; 9.35; cf. also Gen. 36.39; Num. 26.58-59. 23. He is explicitly characterized as an Ishmaelite in 1 Chron. 2.17; but as an Israelite in 2 Sam. 17.25. 24. Cf. G.N. Knoppers, ‘Intermarriage, Social Complexity and Ethnic Diversity in the Genealogy of Judah’, JBL 120 (2001), pp. 15-30. Also cf. T. Willi, Juda–Jehud–Israel: Studien zum Selbstverständnis des Judentums in persischer Zeit (FAT, 12; Tübingen: J.C.B. Mohr, 1995), pp. 141-42. 25. See 1 Chron. 2.15-17. In 2 Sam. 17.25 the two are characterized as daughters of Nahash. Efforts to harmonize both accounts while maintaining that Zeruiah and Abigail were daughters of Jesse and sisters of David are evident in b. Shab 55b; b. BB 17a. 26. Likewise one might consider that the reference to Matred in 1 Chron. 1.50 is due to the high status of Me-zahab. Although this is possible, there is no evidence supporting this conjecture. The name appears only here and in the parallel text in Gen. 36.39 and nothing is said about this character beyond his/her being a parent of Matred. 27. Cf. the case of the Barzillai house in Ezra 2.61. 28. It is worth noting that the language of the text follows a basic formula, X‫ ויתן את בתו ל‬in which X stands for a male, and which is attested elsewhere, with a number of variants. See Gen. 29.28; 41.45; Exod. 2.21; Josh. 15.17; Judg. 1.13 and, of course, 1 Chron. 2.35. Significantly, the daughter’s name appears in all these instances, except 1 Chron. 2.35. The daughter’s role here is not to link two families – as in the other cases – but to allow the continuation of the house of the father. A study of the defamiliarization of the formula in Gen. 29.29, and its potential implications for constructions of gender as expressions of hierarchy (cf. D. Seeman, ‘ “Where Is Sarah your Wife?” Cultural Poetics of Gender and Nationhood in the Hebrew Bible’, HTR 91 [1998]), pp. 103-25, stands beyond the scope of this paper. 29. Cf. with some similar cases in Nuzi, see K. Grosz, ‘Some Aspects of the Position of Women in Nuzi’, in B. Lesko (ed.), Women’s Earliest Records: From Ancient Egypt and Western Asia (BJS, 166; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1989), pp. 167-80, esp. 173-77. For other discussions of the relevant passage, see S. Japhet, ‘The Israelite Legal and Social Reality as Reflected in Chronicles: A Case Study’, in M. Fishbane and E. Tov (eds.), ‘Sha’arei Talmon’: Studies in the Bible, Qumran, and the Ancient Near East Presented to Shemaryahu Talmon (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1992), pp. 79-91, and G.N. Knoppers, 1 Chronicles 1–9 (AB, 12; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 2004), p. 310. 30. Of course, ‘successfully’ refers to the evaluation of the situation from the perspective of the implied author of the book of Chronicles/genealogies and of the intended readership. ‘Success’ from this perspective was tantamount to maintaining the father’s lineage and household, and in a larger scheme, that of the entire house of Israel. Chronicles and its intended and primary readership saw continuity from generation to generation as an expression of divine blessing. This is a quite common approach in group-based societies. From the viewpoint of those who identify with these perspectives, the marriage reported in the book was successful and blessed.

9. Observations on Women in the Genealogies of 1 Chronicles 1–9 191 31. See, e.g., the references to Bathshua, the Canaanitess (1 Chron. 2.3), and Ahinoam the Jezreelitess and Abigail the Carmelitess (1 Chron. 3.1). Maacah is introduced as daughter of Talmai, the king of Geshur (1 Chron. 3.2). Bithiah is not only Egyptian, but also the daughter of Pharaoh (see above), and notice also the contrastive reference to the Judean woman (1 Chron. 4.18). 32. See examples above. See also Knoppers, 1 Chronicles 1–9, p. 310 and Japhet, ‘Israelite Legal and Social Reality, esp. pp. 90-91. 33. Since progeny follows, there is an implicit indication that YHWH blessed the union. See above. 34. Cf. E. Ben Zvi, ‘The Urban Center of Jerusalem and the Development of the Literature of the Hebrew Bible’, in W.G. Aufrecht, N.A. Mirau, and S.W. Gauley (eds.), Aspects of Urbanism in Antiquity: From Mesopotamia to Crete (JSOTSup, 244; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997), pp. 194-209; idem, ‘Introduction: Writings, Speeches, and the Prophetic Books – Setting an Agenda’, in E. Ben Zvi and M.H. Floyd (eds.), Writings and Speech in Israelite and Ancient Near Eastern Prophecy (SBLSymS, 10; Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2000), pp. 1-29, esp. 13-16; idem, ‘What is New in Yehud?; A. Labahn, ‘Antitheocratic Tendencies in Chronicles’, in R. Albertz and B. Becking (eds.), Yahwism after the Exile: Perspectives on Israelite Religion in the Persian Era (STR, 5; Assen: Van Gorcum, 2003), pp. 115-35. 35. It is debatable whether the Hebrew term ‫ פילגש‬is to be interpreted as indicating an insecure, legal status for the concubine and, thereafter, for her children. The social structure of the higher social strata of ancient Israel was based on polygamy, rather than monogamy. A ‫ פילגש‬was not regarded as an illegal whore of the pater familias, but rather obtained a role akin to, though lower than that of an additional ‘wife’. The concubine herself as well as her children belonged to the household of the entire family and stood under protection of the pater familias. The woman, and consequently her children, obtained a legal status in Israelite society granting a place within family structures. However, the children of the concubine were not given the rights of full heritage. K. Engelken suggests that concubines lived in a somewhat insecure legal sphere, since their status is not granted by any Hebrew Bible law. See K. Engelken, Frauen im alten Israel: Eine begriffsgeschichtliche und sozialrechtliche Studie zur Stellung der Frau im Alten Testament (BWANT, 130; Stuttgart: W. Kohlhammer, 1990), pp. 74-126. 36. See 1 Chron. 3.9. 37. For comparisons of the ratio of named to unnamed concubines, see the statistics in Engelken, Frauen im alten Israel, pp. 119-22. 38. 1 Chron. 2.47 may indicate the family origin of Ephah, but see also Japhet, I and II Chronicles, pp. 86-87. 39. It is worth noting that Chronicles departs from the tradition in Gen. 25.1 in relation to the status of Keturah. According to Genesis, she is Abraham’s wife, according to Chronicles, his concubine. 40. It is possible to understand the text in 1 Chron. 2.18 as implicitly suggesting a construction of Jerioth as a concubine/mother. The text and its immediate textual context are difficult and in any case, unlike the other instances, Jerioth is not (explicitly) called a concubine. 41. Although one may expect that in (male) lineages women who bore no children will be omitted, there are several examples of women who are mentioned in

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1 Chronicles 1–9 and who are not associated with any children (e.g., 1 Chron. 3.9; see also below). The genealogies of Chronicles often attempt to advance a representation of (patriarchal) households. Women may participate in a household without bearing children. 42. See Neh. 11.31-35. It bears notice that children of a divorced mother could be sent with her (see 1 Esd. 9.36, which probably represents an understanding of Ezra 10.44; on the latter, see H.G.M. Williamson, Ezra–Nehemiah (WBC, 16; Waco, TX: Word Books, 1985), pp. 144-45, 159; cf. J. Blenkinsopp, Ezra–Nehemiah (OTL; Philadephia: Westminster Press, 1988), pp. 197, 200-201). Cf. Codex Hammurabi 137. One may note also that the metaphor underlying Hosea 1–3 shows that children may share the fate of their mother in a case of marital breakdown. On this matter, see also J.J. Collins, ‘Marriage, Divorce, and Family in Second Temple Judaism’, in L.G. Perdue, et al. (eds.), Families in Ancient Israel (Louisville, KY: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1997), pp. 104-63, esp. 116 and note also the cautionary tone of J. Blenkinsopp, ‘The Family in First Temple Israel’, in Perdue, et al. (eds.), Families in Ancient Israel, pp. 48103, esp. 65-66. 43. It is true that the identity of the person alluded to by the third person masc. suffix in ‫ כלתו‬is theoretically unclear if the verse is read only from the perspective of v. 3. The text of v. 4, however, clarifies that point. The father-in-law is Judah. 44. There are numerous studies on the story of Tamar in Genesis 38. See, e.g., J.W.H. van Wijk-Bos, ‘Out of the Shadows; Genesis 38; Judges 4:17-22; Ruth 3’, Semeia 42 (1988), pp. 37-67; E. Van Wolde, ‘Texts in Dialogue with Texts: Intertextuality in the Ruth and Tamar Narratives’, BibInt 5 (1997), pp. 1-25. 45. See D.C. Polaski, ‘On Taming Tamar: Amram’s Rhetoric and Women’s Roles in Pseudo-Philo’s Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum 9’, JSP 13 (1995), pp. 79-99. 46. 1 Chron. 3.2 mentions Maacah, the daughter of Talmai, king of Geshur; in 1 Chron.3.5 Bathshua is introduced as the daughter of Ammiel, who is only known in Chronicles. 47. See 1 Chron. 4.18. There are numerous cases in which the construction of a male lineage is associated not only with that of the ‘original’ father but also with the ‘original’ mother, see 1 Chron. 4.19. When the father has children from several wives, then his sons are characterized and identified according to their mothers too (e.g., 1 Chron. 3.2). 48. See, e.g., 1 Chron. 3.9 and the 6 daughters in 1 Chron. 4.27 alongside 16 brothers. In these instances, sons are mentioned first, daughters, second. For a likely exception to this order, see 4.17 and see above. 49. Cf. also 1 Chron. 23.22. 50. There are also instances in which the identity of the woman is associated with her being a sister of a male, rather than with her being the daughter of another. See 1 Chron. 4.19. 51. See, for instance 1 Chron. 3.9 (Tamar); 3.19 (Shelomith); 4.3 (Hazzelelponi); 7.30 (Serah); 7.32 (Shua). 52. ‘The (female) governor’? 53. See Radak, Ralbag, and among contemporary scholars, Japhet, I and II Chronicles, p. 175.

9. Observations on Women in the Genealogies of 1 Chronicles 1–9 193 54. Speaking of metaphorical and metaphors we use the term here in a rather broad sense and do not intend to take the term as hinting at literary phenomena indicating multiple senses evoked by reception. 55. It has been noted that compared to similar reports, the one on the genealogy of Manasseh in Chronicles contains proportionally more explicit references to, and involvement of women – even if the vast majority of the characters in the report are male. Scholars have reached different conclusions concerning the significance of the mentioned fact. For instance, W. Johnstone writes: ‘A striking feature of the presentation of Manasseh is the prominent role played by women throughout. Given the patriarchal nature of the overall presentation of the tribes – the stress on the heroic heads of the household and their leadership of their numerous clansmen in war…which is conspicuously lacking in this section…this emphasis can hardly be interpreted other than as further indication of weakness and vulnerability in this area’ (1 and 2 Chronicles, I, p. 106). In other ways, he suggests that gender characterizations and differentiations serve to communicate a hierarchy of (male) heroic power, and military strength (cf. Judith). 56. See Chapters 2 and 8 in this volume. 57. See Eskenazi, ‘Out from the Shadows’. For a socioeconomic study of the status of some women in Jerusalem during the Persian period, see C.R. Yoder, Wisdom as a Woman of Substance: A Socioeconomic Reading of Proverbs 1–9 and 31:10-31 (BZAW, 304; Berlin/New York: W. de Gruyter, 2001). 58. Yet, leaving aside general matters concerning the classification of particular roles as typical, male, and public in these discourses, the fact remains that there are not many explicit references to ‘comparable’ males fulfilling these roles in the genealogies – references to kings and rulers should not be taken into account for these purposes. Since there are many times more males than females in the genealogies, the statistical probability of finding a reference to a female character fulfilling these roles is quite minimal. See also section 2.2. 59. Cf., among many others, J. Weinberg, Der Chronist in seiner Mitwelt (BZAW, 239; Berlin/New York: W. de Gruyter, 1996), p. 226. 60. That is, ‘children and the building of a city establish one’s name’. The importance of leaving a name is emphasized in Sirach (see, e.g., Sir. 44.8). 61. One cannot completely dismiss the possibility that the masc. suffix here points to feminine referent, in this case Sheerah. See 1 Chron. 23.22. 62. Even the association of the name of one of the cities with her name raises questions in this regard. 63. J.J. Stamm, favors a social influence of women for Elephantine and the Persian period. See J.J. Stamm ‘Hebräische Frauennamen’, in B. Hartmann, et al. (eds.), Hebräische Wortforschung: Festschrift zum 80. Geburtstag von Walter Baumgarten (VTSup, 16; Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1967), pp. 301-39, esp. 308-10. See also A. Kiesow, Löwinnen von Juda: Frauen als Subjekte politischer Macht in der judäischen Königszeit (Theologische Frauenforschung in Europa, 4; Münster: Lit, 2000), pp. 51-63. The evidence of seals might be helpful too. See the ‘famous’ case of ‫שלמית אמת אלנתן פחוא‬ and of her seal. On these matters, see N. Avigad, Corpus of West Semitic Stamp Seals (Jerusalem: Israel Academy of Sciences and Humanities/Israel Exploration Society/ Institute of Archaeology, The Hebrew University of Jerusalem, 1997), pp. 31, 33; E.M.

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Meyers, ‘The Shelomith Seal and the Judean Restoration: Some Additional Considerations’, EI 18 (1985), pp. 33*-38*. Yet one is to take into account that the percentage of women among seal owners is extremely low. For instance, it stands at 2% in Avigad, Corpus of West Semitic Stamp Seals and may grow up to 3% if all the names of uncertain gender are taken to be of women. 64. See the case of Miptahiah. See for instance, Cowley 13 = TAD B 2.7 (and B 29 in B. Porten, The Elephantine Papyri in English: Three Millennia of Cross-Cultural Continuity and Change (Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1996). One may notice also a wife may own and sell property along with her husband (i.e., they are presented as co-owners), in other words she does not have to be widow to own property. See, e.g., Kraeling 3 = TAD B 3.4 (Porten, Elephantine Papyri in English, B 37); Kraeling 12 = TAD B3.12 (Porten, Elephantine Papyri in English, B 45). 65. Of course, the genealogies are not alone in that regard, cf. Judith, Pseudo-Philo. 66. Of course, this ‘divine blessing’ is understood within the ideological frame of a patriarchal society. The book of Chronicles neither was nor could have been a ‘feminist’ book. It was written within a patriarchal society for a patriarchal society. There is no doubt that within the world of the book and in ancient Yehud the twin institutions of kinship and inheritance were constructed as patrilineal. 67. See Eskenazi, ‘Out from the Shadows’. Eskenazi (pp. 32-33) notes that many of the substantive claims advanced by C. Meyers about the role of women and family roles in Early Israel may apply to the Persian period. For C. Meyers’ positions, see C. Meyers, Discovering Eve (New York: Oxford University Press, 1988), and idem, ‘The Family in Early Israel’, in Perdue, et al. (eds.), Families in Ancient Israel, pp. 1-47. 68. Cf. J.E. Dyck, The Theocratic Ideology of the Chronicler (Leiden, E.J. Brill, 1998), p. 188; C. Karrer, Ringen um die Verfassung Judas: Eine Studie zu den theologischpolitischen Vorstellungen im Esra-Nehemia-Buch (BZAW, 308; Berlin/New York: W. de Gruyter, 2001), pp. 88-90. 69. See the paradigmatic case of Bithiah in 1 Chron. 4.17-18 discussed above.

Chapter 10 IDEOLOGICAL CONSTRUCTIONS OF NON-YEHUDITE/ PERIPHERAL ISRAEL IN ACHAEMENID YEHUD: THE CASE OF THE BOOK OF CHRONICLES

1. Introductory Considerations This examination of a key ideological theme in ancient Yehud, at least among the literati who produced and for whom much of the literature that eventually became included in the Hebrew Bible elite was produced, contributes to the study of the history of common worldviews held among the ideological elite of Yehud, and as such to the history of Yehud.1 Certainly, the literati of Achaemenid period Jerusalem2 were well aware that not all ‘Israel’3 (hereafter, Israel) lived in Yehud. How did they explain this obvious fact of their lives in acceptable ideological terms? What kind of conceptual, discursive maps emerged out of the acknowledgment of a reality in which there was Yehudite and non-Yehudite Israel? Although I will focus here on the light that the book of Chronicles sheds on these questions, some crucial, general observations about the ideological milieu of Achaemenid Yehud are in order. The fact that Israel existed in Yehud and outside its borders led by necessity to ideological constructions in Jerusalem of (a) a self-perceived center, namely Yehud along with the central attributes associated uniquely with it such as Jerusalem, Zion, Jerusalemite temple, and sociologically, the Jerusalemite literati themselves, and (b) non-Yehud, that is, by definition a periphery devoid of such ideological attributes and institutions. Moreover, since the discourse/s of the Yehudite literati included, at its core, a deeply embedded image and main meta-narrative of ‘exile and return’,4 the pair of center and periphery often, but not necessarily fully overlapped that of center/diaspora or exile.5 To be sure, the center, Yehud, was most often associated with the (only legitimate) temple and the true divine instruction coming from this temple, which was directly or indirectly based on texts held authoritative by the Jerusalemite elite. Although sets of hopes for a future reduction or even cancellation of the polarity center/periphery

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certainly existed within the ideological discourses of Yehud’s literati, as demonstrated abundantly in prophetic literature, these hopes did not and could not amount to a full discursive response. The worldview of the Jerusalemite literati in the Persian period had to include not only hopes for a future, but an ideologically cogent response to their present situation. Since within the discourses of Yehudite literati, YHWH’s instructions to Israel – and the latter’s obligations to YHWH – were in the main not dependent on the borders of any polities, including those of Yehud, their sets of accepted discourses demanded that some norms be (at least, from an ideological viewpoint) applicable to anyone they considered to be Israel, whether they lived in Yehud or not. As a result, to some extent or on the surface these discourses lead to a partial erasement of the divide between Yehudite and non-Yehudite Israel. But at the same time, given that within the same discourses true instruction is that advanced by the Jerusalemite center and its elite, then members of the latter must unequivocally imagine themselves as those who know how Yahwistic groups ought to behave outside Yehud. Even if in overall historical terms the Jerusalemite elite of the Persian period was not able to impose its own norms and its own interpretations of its authoritative books on non-Yehudite Yahwistic groups (e.g., those living in Samaria, Elephantine, other areas in Egypt, Babylonia, Asia Minor, etc.), and even it is doubtful that they seriously intended to do so in any consistent and systematic way, none of the above preempts the development of discursive ideological constructions that advance or imply such policy. In fact, both these constructions and their perceived and factual impracticality in the ‘real’ world contributed to the shaping of the intellectual milieu of the Jerusalemite literati of the time.6 As mentioned above, of all the possible constructions of non-Yehudite Israel and its relation to Yehudite Israel within the discourses of Achaemenid Yehud, I plan to deal here with those shaped in, reflected by, and communicated to the intended readers by one book, namely the book of Chronicles.7 On the surface, this choice may be seen as a somewhat odd, since the book does not allocate much narrative space to Israel’s life outside the borders of Judah/Yehud.8 A number of reasons, however, point to the particular suitability of the book for this type of analysis. First, although the book of Chronicles conveys images of a future that bear hope to its readers, its seemingly ‘down-to-earth’ approach when compared to prophetic literature makes it more amenable for this study. Second, positions communicated in Chronicles may reveal more of the agreed worldview shared by the Jerusalemite literati at large since matters tend to appear in rather incidental ways in the accounts rather than as their main literary or

10. Ideological Constructions

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ideological thrust. Third, contrary to the usual tendency in the book towards communicating a balanced, multi-perspectival position on most matters through diverse accounts each pointing at different and seemingly contradictory positions,9 on the issues relevant to this discussion Chronicles shows a relative unified viewpoint. To be sure, given its genre and scope, this book can only construct directly circumstances claimed to obtain in the past of the community of readers for which the book of Chronicles was written, not in their present. But its accounts, of course, project and legitimize ideological images of the ideal relationship between Yehudites and other Israelites living outside Yehud and as such shed much light on the questions raised above. 2. Analysis of the Accounts To begin with, the account in 2 Chron. 10.1–11.17 deals with the secession of the northern kingdom. This is a complex account that conveys a number of meanings.10 A few of the latter are directly relevant to the present discussion, provided that one assumes that the intended and primary (re)readerships of the book associated, to some extent or in some of their rereadings of the material, monarchic Judah with Persian Yehud, and (monarchic) northern Israel with Persian period Samaria. This assumption, however, is reasonable and, to a large extent, a boilerplate. This being so, the situation projected by the account reflects the position that the people of northern Israel/Samaria are Israel, and not only that their polity was/is separate from Judah/Yehud, but also that they should remain separate for any foreseen future, because it is YHWH’s (inscrutable) will. In other words, Yehud should not attempt to conquer or incorporate the north or any portion thereof, even though such actions would be possible.11 In addition, Chronicles maintains that despite the fact that the northerners are Israel (= Yahwistic) and so in all likelihood is its main leadership, the Yehudite leadership should not attempt to build any alliances with it. On the contrary, they should refuse to do so,12 unless, of course, the latter follows and accepts the exclusive role of the Jerusalemite temple and the literature that reflects and supports it. Moreover, since the northerners are Israel and since this fact carries within the discourse of Yehud certain expectations regarding behavior and belief, Chronicles suggests that only if the northerners lived in a polity that did not require them to contradict the basic tenets of the Jerusalemite ideology/theology, including but certainly not restricted to matters of

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temple ritual (see below), then they may remain in their own towns (see 2 Chron. 31.1).13 If this not the case, just as during the time of the secession – as the latter is constructed in Chronicles – and for all the independent existence of the northern kingdom as such (and the province of Samaria?), pious Israelites must move to Yehud and fortify it (cf. 2 Chron. 13.11-17).14 In other words, if residing outside Yehud means that they do not or cannot behave as Israel ought to, that is, follow YHWH’s precepts and instructions as understood by the Jerusalemite elite represented by the authorship and intended and primary readerships of Chronicles, then their presence outside Yehud is ideologically equivalent to forsaking YHWH, and accordingly to be liable to divine punishment (cf. 2 Chron. 30.6-9). Of course, within the worldview communicated by Chronicles, pious authorities in Judah – and through ideological projection, those in Yehud – also have a role to play in relation to the northerners. For instance, if pious Judahite kings such as Hezekiah and Josiah try to lead non-Judahite/ Yehudite Israel to the ‘proper path’, through speech or through forceful actions (see 2 Chron. 34.6-7) when the latter are possible (see qere in v. 6), then their actions are presented as commendable. Two examples suffice: (a) Abijah’s speech in 2 Chron. 13.4-12 and (b) the report about the transformation, or better, Jerusalemite socialization of the northerners described in the accounts of Hezekiah in 2 Chron. 30.1–31.1. It is worth stressing, however, that this ideological Jerusalemization, and from the perspective of the book, proper socialization of the northerners as Israel is not presented in terms of abandonment of their places of residence. They continue to live outside Judah. In fact, Chronicles explicitly states that they return from Jerusalem to their cities outside Judah, even if their ideological focus and behavior is portrayed as Judahite like, and as explicitly stated at the conclusion of the report concerning Hezekiah’s actions in 2 Chron. 31.1b. Further, even if these northerners appear to be successfully Israelitized in the accounts of Hezekiah and Josiah, they tend to disappear quickly from the main Judahite/Israelite narrative. Not only are the intended and primary rereaders left wondering whether they actually continued to behave as pious Israel after the described and seemingly uncommon events initiated by the Jerusalemite leadership, but they do not partake in any way in events crucial to Israel that occur afterwards in the world of the book, nor does the book suggest that their actions and behavior mattered in terms of the eventual fate of Israel’s ideological centers such as Jerusalem and the Jerusalemite temple at the end of the monarchic period.15 Although the northerners are Israel, they and their lives and experiences


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remain peripheral to the main history of Israel, whose main focus in Chronicles is and remains Jerusalem/Zion/temple, and by extension Judah (and later Yehud, by implication).16 In other words, the northerners are construed as peripheral Israel. Should peripheral Israel come in pilgrimage to central Israel and its institutions? In the accounts of Hezekiah and Josiah there is an element of pilgrimage of the northern, non-Judahite Israel to Jerusalem and the temple. The centrality of the temple in Chronicles implies that nonJudahite (non-Yehudite) Israel is supposed to come to the festivals, which according to these discourses could take place only in Jerusalem, and should tend to participate as much as reasonable in the ritual life of the temple. These considerations are important for the proper, ideological Jerusalemization (or, from a perspective closer to that of the book, ‘proper’ Israelitization) of peripheral Israel within the Jerusalem-centered discourses of the Yehudite literati. Against this general, shared background, it is worth noting that Chronicles constructs these requirements as contingent on the status of the temple, which in turn is contingent, at least in part, on the actions of the people and leaders of central Israel (i.e., Judahite/Yehudite Israel) rather than categorical obligations. The book includes a paradigmatic case in which legitimate pilgrimage17 to the only proper temple in Jerusalem was reportedly impossible, due to the positive absence of a proper temple at the time (see 2 Chron. 28.9-15).18 What are the northern Israelites to do in this case, and how can they fulfill their obligations to YHWH as Israel? This text is particularly important since it balances some of the messages in Chronicles (e.g., centrality of Temple and Davidic dynasty), but is also crucial for understanding several elements of the constructions of nonJudahite (/Yehudite) Israel reflected and shaped by Chronicles. Moreover, significantly, this is probably the only pericope in Chronicles in which the northern Israelites are characterized as the main heroes of a sub-narrative.19 2 Chronicles 28.9-15 clearly communicated to its intended and primary rereaders that Israel can behave piously without a legitimate temple and without a Davidic king reigning over them, and outside the territory of Judah (/Yehud). At the same time this manifestation of nonJudahite Israel in Chronicles had, and within the story had to have a prophet to teach them what they ought to do.20 The account strongly suggests to the intended and primary rereaders that these Israelites would not have behaved in godly ways if the prophet had not been there to confront the people. Thus, the text conveys the importance of having a true prophet in the midst of Israel.

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It is to be stressed that the prophet here is above all a teacher who successfully communicates to his community YHWH’s requirements from them. This prophetic role is presented as essential to society, because of the fundamental character of the divine teachings; without knowledge of them Israel could not be imagined. These teachings deal, of course, not only or even mainly with matters such as participating in a legitimate pilgrimage to the temple in Jerusalem. They require, among others, and as explicitly mentioned in 2 Chron. 28.9-15 that Israel free the captive, feed the hungry, water the thirsty, and cloth the naked among their brethrens. Pious Israel, whether in Judah/Yehud or elsewhere is conceived as always required to fulfill these obligations, and to fulfill them, they require legitimate teachers. To be sure, since within the world of Chronicles the true teachings of YHWH are those held by the Jerusalemite elite (and its literati and their authoritative books), then such teachers, be they in Yehud or outside Yehud, must be well aware of the positions accepted in Jerusalem and uphold them. To some extent, at least, Chronicles constructs them as people who are supposed to socialize peripheral Israel in the true ways of Israel, that is to ideologically Jerusalemize them. Other non-Judahite prophets appear in the book of Chronicles. The most important for the present matters is probably Elijah (see 2 Chron. 21.15). The Chronistic Elijah remains, of course, a northern prophet who lived during the Ahabite regime, but significantly, the book does not devote any narrative space to his interactions with the kings of his own polity.21 Instead, he becomes a writer, a warning figure to the king of Judah. YHWH is implicitly characterized as one who chooses pious northerners, that is, peripheral Israelites who even live under a sinful regime, for prophets, whose real focus is that which happens at the center, in Jerusalem. Northern Israel stands in a liminal conceptual space within Chronicles. On the one hand, it is ‘in the land’, that is, not in exile, although their land is by itself of a somewhat liminal status, and certainly peripheral in relation to Judah and Jerusalem. On the other hand, it is clearly part and parcel of a peripheral Israel whose actions and history do not count much towards the history of Israel and the fate of its center. In Chronicles, northern Israel stands conceptually and ideologically between the central Israel in Jerusalem/Yehud and Israel outside ‘the land’, as it shares its peripheral condition and its associated attributes with the latter, but not the ideological topos of being in exile outside the land and the issues it raises within the Jerusalemite discourses of the Achaemenid period. Of course, the authorship and intended and primary readerships of Chronicles, as any Yehudite literati of the time, ‘knew’ of Israel’s exilic


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experience outside ‘the land’. The book explicitly deals with Israel’s exilic experience in two different texts that balance each other’s message on the matter, and which only together reflect the worldview conveyed by the book to its intended rereadership. The first one is 2 Chron. 6.36-40.22 Here the reference is to Israelites who are taken into captivity and exiled to nearby or faraway lands because of their sins. In exile they repent, pray in the direction of ‘the land’ in general and Jerusalem in particular and towards or through the Temple.23 This text concludes with an expression of hope that YHWH will forgive and, one assumes, restore them from exile. The text certainly conveys a sense that being outside ‘the land’ is in itself a punishment. It also instructs the rereaders of the book of Chronicles that pious Israelites, if they are in exile should pray towards/through Jerusalem and the Temple. The peripheral location of those in exile is thus emphasized along with the centrality of Jerusalem. Turning to the second relevant text involves the conclusion of the entire book of Chronicles and as such demands much attention from its primary and intended readers. The report in 2 Chron. 36.21-23 informs them that the land had to be desolate. The transition from the desolation of ‘the land’, now meaning only the territory of the southern kingdom and of future Yehud, to its restoration is now framed around shabbatot, around 70 years, that is ten shabbatot of desolation, which are to be followed by the beginning of a new cycle, this time one of promise (see 2 Chron. 36.21-22).24 The 70 years are explicitly related also to YHWH’s word by the mouth of Jeremiah (see 2 Chron. 36.21-22; cf. Jer. 25.11-12; 29.10) and YHWH’s stirring up of the spirit of Cyrus, but nowhere to any repentance on the side of those in exile.25 Whereas individuals may go and remain in exile, the ‘exile’ of the land of Judah/Yehud is conceived as fundamentally limited in time by YHWH’s desire and only as a means to fulfill its purification so Israel can dwell again in it. Significantly, the text expresses and communicates a fundamental difference between the land of Judah/Yehud and other territories, even if they are considered within ‘the land’. This distinction overlaps and contributes to the ideological construction of center and periphery associated with the dwellers of these areas. As expected, the text reflects and communicates a negative evaluation of the life of individuals and ‘the people’ in exile and as something to be overcome. Moreover, on the surface the conclusion of the book suggests to the intended and primary rereaders of the book that this was overcome by YHWH’s word and actions, as mediated through his agents (Cyrus and Jeremiah as understood by the implied author of Chronicles).26 But to what

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extent was this actually overcome? The very last words of the book raise significant questions for the construction of peripheral Israel in Chroniָ ‫ ִמי ָב ֶכם ִמ ָכּל ַעמּוֹ יְ הֹוָ ה ֱא‬which may be cles. The text reads ‫ֹלהיו ִעמּוֹ וְ יָ ַעל‬ translated as ‘whoever among you, of his [YHWH’s] people, may YHWH, his god be with him and let him go up [to build the temple of YHWH in Jerusalem, which is in Judah]’. Both the intended and primary rereadership and the authorship of the book know all too well that many of Israel did not do so, even if according to the text they certainly could.27 Chronicles responds by marginalizing them through total exclusion from the implied narrative of reconstruction.28 But the book cannot eliminate their presence in the world of knowledge of the readership nor can one reasonably assume that careful rereaders of the book such as the literati for whom it was composed consistently read the book in all their rereadings in a way that was uninformed by their presence, or that they imagined the implied author to be uninformed of that fact. Further, it is worth stressing that the book itself does not conclude with an explicit report about the response of Israel to Cyrus’ proclamation, as one may have expected, but with the (largely unfulfilled) choice that it states.29 But if so, what ideological venues of interpretation does the book allow or suggest for explaining the choice made by many of Israel not to end their exile, and not to return to Judah and Jerusalem to build the temple? Certainly from the discursive perspective of the book this is an absurd choice. Perhaps more importantly, as absurd as it might be construed within the discourses of the Yehudite literati, this choice still created a situation that could not be rectified from the time of Cyrus to that of the composition and primary reading and rereading of the book of Chronicles. Moreover, there was no reason to expect that under normal sociopolitical circumstances it will be rectified in the future. Although there was a temple, and although Israel dwelt in Yehud, there remained a diaspora, a peripheral, non-Yehudite Israel and so it will remain for the foreseen future, until YHWH causes an upheaval in the worldly course of events. Without doubt the most analogous case in the book of Chronicles involving such a discursive absurdity involves the separation of the North in 2 Chron. 10.1–11.4. Even if core facts about the past agreed upon among the literati30 and the well thought-out ending of Chronicles preempted any kind of parallel or parallelizing narratives linking the two, they both involve: (a) the creation of a peripheral – from the Chronicles’ viewpoint – form of Israel, which as such is excluded from central (hi)story of Israel;31 (b)


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the permanent character of this form, which remains till the present of the intended and primary readership and till any imaginable future within the normal course of events; (c) separation from temple; and (d) absurd decision-making that leads to indelible consequences. Further, one must keep in mind that (e) Samaria is the most prominent manifestation of nonYehudite Israel within the discourses of Yehudite Israel. This being so, it is worth stressing that Chronicles communicates to its readership that the separation of the north, and its continuous separate existence cannot be explained in humanly reasonable terms – that is, within the literati’s accepted discourses – but only as the result of YHWH’s will; a will that from the perspective of the literati in Yehud defies explanation.32 Just as the differentiation between ‘northerners’ (be they of the Northern Kings, or of the Achaemenid province of Samaria) and Judah/Yehud and their separate ideological existence are construed as a lasting phenomenon grounded in YHWH’s will, it seems most reasonable that the same holds true within the discourse of the authorship and intended and primary readerships of the book in relation to the lasting existence of diasporic, non-Yehudite, peripheral Israel in Yehud’s days. This existence will last as long as YHWH wishes it to last, and as long as YHWH does not intervene to bring it to an end. In this regard, the book of Chronicles advances a position similar to that of prophetic literature.33 3. Conclusions In sum, Chronicles communicated to its primary and intended rereaderships that Israel, or the manifestation of transtemporal Israel in the Persian period, included more than Yehudite Israel. The Samarian, and other Yahwistic groups outside Yehud were Israel too. At the same time, it conveyed a very emphatic sense of center and periphery, and allocated to the latter all of non-Yehudite Israel (including groups in ‘the land’, if they were not in Yehud).34 Peripheral Israel was fully removed from the main historical narrative of Israel. At the same time, since peripheral Israel is still Israel, those associated with it were construed as required to accept fully YHWH’s teachings, as these were understood in Jerusalem by the literati, and behave in accordance with them. In other words, from an ideological viewpoint, peripheral Israelites were to think and behave as good, pious Yehudites. The logic of the text calls for their full ideological Jerusalemization. To achieve the latter, the same logic calls for presence of teachers and texts (e.g., Chronicles) that faithfully represent the teachings of YHWH considered to be

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legitimate and authoritative in Yehud, for failing that they may stray from YHWH’s ways, that is, think and act as non-Jerusalemized, and therefore be liable to divine punishment. The scope of Yehud’s influence, however, is limited within these ideological horizons to teaching peripheral Israel the proper way and the maintenance of the proper, only legitimate temple and its rituals, which allows for the possibility of pilgrimage. Yehud is not only historically unable to bring an end to exile or to annex the northern Israel, but is also not required to do so ideologically. Within the worldview embedded in Chronicles, Yehud is supposed to mitigate the existence of peripheral Israel by Jerusalemizing it, but to do nothing to bring it to an end, even such a development was seen in Yehudite discourses as involving highly desirable results.35 From the perspective of Chronicles, the very existence of peripheral Israel (and exile) is grounded in YHWH’s inscrutable, but no less legitimate will even if it might convey a sense that the Yehudite restoration/redemption so praised in Chronicles is only partial. Endnotes 1. This chapter originated as a paper delivered and discussed at the History of Yehud session of the European Seminar for Historical Methodology, Groningen, 2004. I would like to express my thanks to the participants in the seminar for their comments. 2. Achaemenid period Jerusalem was essentially a town associated with the temple and with a highly uncharacteristic working distribution. Lipschits’ words are on target: ‘It seems that the proper way to define the city at this period [Achaemenid period, EBZ] is a Temple, alongside which there was a settlement both for those who served in the Temple and for a small number of additional residents’ (O. Lipschits, ‘Demographic Changes in Judah between the Seventh and the Fifth Centuries B.C.E.’, in O. Lipschits and J. Blenkinsopp [eds.], Judah and the Judeans in the Neo-Babylonian Period [Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2003], pp. 323-76, citation from p. 330). Both Lipschits and Carter consider that the settled area in the city was about 60 dunams, which if multiplied by the commonly used coefficient of 25 would render a population of about 1500 people. See C.E. Carter, The Emergence of Yehud in the Persian Period: A Social and Demographic Study (JSOTSup, 294; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1999), pp. 190, 201-202. The settlement in Mt Gerizim in the Persian period also developed around the temple there, despite the geographical features of the site that are not necessarily the best for building a city. Both Jerusalem and Mt Gerizim became much larger cities in the Hellenistic period. On Mt Gerizim, see I. Magen, ‘Mt. Gerizim. A Temple City’, Qadmontiot 33/120 (2000), pp. 74-118 (Hebrew). 3. By Israel I refer here to the ideological construction of transtemporal Israel with which the Achaemenid period literati identified themselves – and likely other groups in their society as well. Within their discourses the community/polity in Yehud was considered a particular historical manifestation of Israel. This transtemporal Israel was constructed as a people with a particular relation with YHWH, specific obligations


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that ensue from it, and with agreed upon history, which included among others the patriarchal period, Exodus, Sinai, the conquest of the land, the monarchic period and its fall. 4. I wrote on these matters at some length in E. Ben Zvi, ‘What is New in Yehud? Some Considerations’, in R. Albertz and B. Becking (eds.), Yahwism after the Exile: Perspectives on Israelite Religion in the Persian Era (STR, 5; Assen: Van Gorcum, 2003), pp. 32-48; and ‘Inclusion in and Exclusion from Israel as Conveyed by the Use of the Term “Israel” in Postmonarchic Biblical Texts’, in S.W. Holloway and L.K. Handy (eds.), The Pitcher Is Broken. Memorial Essays for Gosta W. Ahlström (JSOTSup, 190; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1995), pp. 95-149. 5. The ideological construction of center/diaspora or exile is related to the discursive polarity between ‘the land’ and ‘outside the land’. The latter, however, overlaps partially with that of Yehud/non-Yehud, because ‘the land’ was conceived as including more than Yehud, even if to some extent Jerusalem was seen as the core and center of ‘the land’. Since this is a study of how Chronicles deals with matters there, it is worth noting that notwithstanding the fact agreed in the shared discourse of the period that ‘the land’ included more than the territory of Yehud, Cisjordanian Northern Israel is characterized with liminal features in Chronicles (see below). In fact, it is often construed in the book as paradigmatic of peripheral/non-Judahite/Yehudite Israel. Thus, although, Cisjordanian Northern Israel is construed as certainly ‘in the land’, it is also, to a large extent, construed along lines similar to those of other manifestations of Israel outside the land. As for Transjordanian Northern Israel, Chronicles construes it, on the one hand as part of ‘the land – probably an agreed upon core fact in the traditional memories of the past of Persian period Yehud – but also as a place outside the dwelling places of Israel since the days of ‘King Pul of Assyria’ (see 1 Chron. 5.26), unlike Cisjordan. The symbolic differentiation between these two areas (Cisjordanian and Transjordanian Northern Israel) is of interest, particularly since it is likely that there were Yahwistic groups in Transjordan during the Persian period, by the time of the authorship and primary readership of the book of Chronicles. This observation, however, deserves a separate treatment and in any event is not directly relevant to the argument advanced here. 6. The persistent, numerous, utopian messages in prophetic literature about a future reunification of Israel around Jerusalem and its leadership and institutions addressed obvious ideological needs within their discourses, and deeply-felt hopes. These messages removed or lessened disturbing instances of cognitive dissonance by reassuring the community of the certainty of an ideal future/s and by asking them to imagine it/them in numerous ways. 7. A systematic, comprehensive study of these images can only be advanced in the frame of a monograph devoted to the topic. It certainly stands beyond the scope and genre of an individual presentation, paper or chapter. 8. To state, however, that a book that concludes with ‘Whoever is among you of all his people, may the YHWH his God be with him! Let him go up’ (2 Chron. 36.23b) portrays ‘an interrupted settlement in the land’ is going too far (see also 1 Chron. 5.2526; 2 Chron. 36.20-21). Moreover, the exile is at the very least a central theological/

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ideological concept shaping the book and its meaning for its intended and primary rereaderships. For a different position see S. Japhet, The Ideology of the Book of Chronicles and its Place in Biblical Thought (BEATAJ, 9; Frankfurt am Main: P. Lang, 2nd rev. edn, 1997), pp. 385-86 and passim; compare and contrast. J.E. Dyck, The Theocratic Ideology of the Chronicler (Leiden, E.J. Brill, 1998). 9. On the matter of balancing accounts in Chronicles, see Chapters 2 and 8 in this volume. 10. I discussed it at length in Chapter 6. 11. To be sure, the historical circumstances in Yehud preempted such a possibility. It is worth stressing that in Chronicles pious Judahite kings were allowed to conquer and maintain former territories of the northern kingdom only if these territories stood within the later borders of Achaemenid Yehud (e.g., Bethel). Samaria and Shechem, e.g., were outside these territories and were never conquered by a Judahite king, even if within the world of the narrative this would have been an easy endeavor. 12. On the undesirability of alliances with northern Israel, see G.N. Knoppers, ‘ ‘‘YHWH Is Not with Israel”: Alliances as a Topos in Chronicles’, CBQ 58 (1996), pp. 601-26, esp. 612-22, 624. See also my previous contribution to the European Seminar for Historical Methodology, ‘The House of Omri/Ahab in Chronicles,’ to be published in L.L. Grabbe, Ahab Agonistes: The Rise and Fall of the Omri Dynasty (LHBOTS; ESHM; London: T&T Clark, forthcoming). 13. Notice the key ideological demand that Hezekiah advances in 2 Chron. 30.8, ‘yield yourselves to the LORD and come to his sanctuary (i.e., Jerusalem), which he has sanctified forever, and serve the LORD your God (NRSV; emphasis mine)’. Northern Israel has to accept that it is impossible to serve YHWH and come to any sanctuary other than the Jerusalemite temple. It is worth noticing that to a large extent Chronicles is constructing here the boundaries within which a Jerusalemite-centered diaspora may exist. The issue deserves a separate discussion that goes beyond the scope of this paper. 14. Chronicles allows for exceptional cases, such as Elijah who remains in the North but who pays close attention to the Davidic kings, and particularly focuses on how they have gone astray by imitating and even surpassing his own kings in evildoing and, accordingly, on the coming judgment against the king of Judah of his own time. The Elijah of Chronicles does not interact with the Ahabite kings, but with the Davidic kings of Jerusalem. See 2 Chron. 21.12-15. 15. The sinful actions that led to the destruction of Jerusalem and the temple are assigned to Judahites. 16. Willi is correct in stressing the central role of Judah, to the point that ‘It is not David that makes Judah, but it is Judah that makes David!’ See T. Willi, ‘Late Persian Judaism and its Conception of an Integral Israel according to Chronicles: Some Observations on Form and Function of the Genealogy of Judah in 1 Chronicles 2.3-4.23’, in T.C. Eskenazi and K.H. Richards (eds.), Second Temple Studies. II. Temple Community in the Persian Period (JSOTSup, 175; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1994), pp. 14662 (160). Needless to say, such an emphatic Judahite centrality projects an image of a Yehudite centrality, as Willi explicitly recognizes, though he develops the argument in a manner substantially different than from the one advanced here.


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17. For the ideological role of the image of pilgrimage in the early Second Temple, cf. M.D. Knowles, ‘Pilgrimage Imagery in the Returns in Ezra’, JBL 123 (2004), pp. 5774. 18. Chronicles does not discuss instances in which participation in Temple pilgrimage is not practical due to distance, since the geographic setting of the narratives in Chronicles places it far away from ‘the land’. It contains, however, a reference to praying ‫( דרך‬in the direction of) Jerusalem and the temple, when the supplicants are away from the city and temple. See 2 Chron. 6.34 (//1 Kgs 8.44). 19. This account is part and parcel of a larger unit, namely the account of the reign of Ahaz in Chronicles, about which I wrote at some length elsewhere. See Chapter 11. 20. See the emphatic opening in 2 Chron. 28.9. 21. See 2 Chron. 21.12-15. 22. The text is an integral part of the book of Chronicles, even if it follows in the main that of 2 Kgs 8.46-52. 23. Cf. 2 Chron. 6.34-35. 24. As is often recognized, the text is also reminiscent of Lev. 26.34-35, 43 (cf. 2 Chron. 26.21). On the ‘combination’ of Jer. 25.9-12 and Lev. 26. 32-35 in this text see, e.g., M. Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation in Ancient Israel (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1988), pp. 482-83, 488-89; cf. Dyck, Theocratic Ideology, pp. 79-81. See also Chapter 7. 25. Cf. 2 Chron. 6.36-40. 26. And the authorial voice in Leviticus, as understood by the implied author of Chronicles. See note above. 27. The numbers of returnees could not have passed a few thousand. See Lipschits, ‘Demographic Changes’, p. 365. This fact stands in contrast not only with the number in Ezra 2.64-65; Neh. 7.66-67 – which are larger than the total population of Persian Yehud – and which may be attributed to rhetorical efforts at lessening cognitive dissonance, but also with the accepted memory in Yehud of the population of late monarchic Judah and the impression created in authoritative texts such as Kings, Jeremiah, Ezekiel and Chronicles that all (or almost all, or all ‘meaningful’ population) of Judah went into exile (see 2 Kgs 25.26; Jer. 32.43; 2 Chron. 36.20-21; Ezekiel 37, which implies that all the people are in exile). 28. For instance, they are not mentioned as potential donors of goods or the like to be sent for the sake of the building of the temple. 29. To be sure a statement that all of YHWH’s people came back to restore the temple would mean that the exile ended for anyone of Israel who lived in the Persian Empire, which in practical terms means for all Israel. Cf. the following statement ‘[h]e [i.e., the Chronicler; EBZ] deliberately stops short…to end on an eschatological note: he still writes “in exile”; the definitive Return has not yet taken place’ (W. Johnstone, 1 and 2 Chronicles. II. 2 Chronicles 10-36. Guilt and Atonement (JSOTSup, 254; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997), p. 275. The communicative roles of eschatological motifs in Chronicles, their importance, and even their presence are all a matter for debate. As a whole, Chronicles does not convey to its readership a strong sense of eschatology; in fact, it seems to move in the opposite direction. Nevertheless, Johnstone is undoubtedly right in stressing that the conclusion of the book reflects a selfperceived location ‘in exile’.

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30. On the concept and historiographical importance of core facts about the past agreed upon among a particular group see Chapter 4 and bibliography mentioned there. 31. On the exclusion of peripheral Israel from the implied narrative of reconstruction see n. 33 below. 32. And a will which, from a ‘historiographical’ perspective, brings a strong dimension of unpredictability to history. 33. The most recent, substantial treatment of the conclusion of Chronicles and its message is I. Kalimi’s chapter entitled ‘ “So Let Him Go Up [to Jerusalem]”: A Historical and Theological Observation on Cyrus’ Decree in Chronicles’, in I. Kalimi, An Ancient Israelite Historian: Studies in the Chronicler, his Time, Place and Writing [SSN, 46; Assen: Royal Van Gorcum, 2005]). I agree with Kalimi that the decree of Cyrus is not an addendum to Chronicles; certainly it is not an addendum to the book in present form. I disagree, however, with some central aspects of his reconstruction of the main theological/ideological message of the text. According to him, the very ending of the book, ‫ֹלהיו ִעמּוֹ וְ יָ ַעל‬ ָ ‫‘ ִמי ָב ֶכם ִמ ָכּל ַעמּוֹ יְ הֹוָ ה ֱא‬Whoever is among you of all his people, may the LORD his God be with him! Let him go up’ (NRSV) in 2 Chron. 36.23 represents a call for immigration to Judah/Israel. Kalimi maintains that the Chronicler wished to conclude the book with such a call, due to the lack of population in Jerusalem/Yehud in his days and that the last sentence in the version of the decree in Ezra 1.4 with its reference to those who remain behind was not included because ‘the Chronicler probably considers this situation [i.e., the existence of people who remained in Babylon] a disgrace, and therefore also an inappropriate conclusion to his work’ (p. 149). To be sure, the idea of full return from exile was a very substantial element in the social and ideological constructions of utopia/s of Jerusalemite literati as reflected in much of the Hebrew Bible, and certainly in prophetic literature. (This conceptual element is significantly often related to that of the re-unification of Judah and Israel, often under a Davide.) I have no doubt also that from this perspective the very existence of diaspora, the separation between Judah and Israel, and the lack of a Davide were considered a disgrace that at some point in the future would be removed. Chronicles shares with many other texts such a hope. But the main focus of Chronicles is not on fulfilling utopia or hopes for far away days. Moreover, Jerusalemite readers of the book during the Achaemenid or early Hellenistic period knew all too well that many of Israel did not listen to Cyrus’ invitation and did not immigrate, even if according to the text they certainly could. The ending of the book carries perhaps at one level an implied call for immigration, but at the same time is for the intended and primary readership a strong reminder of a choice that had already taken place and which within the Chronicler’s ideology is inexplicable and as such fully associated with the will of the deity. This being so, I do not see why the readers of Chronicles would think that people during their days would be influenced by the call of the Chronicler when they rejected that of Cyrus. I think, however, that Chronicles assumes that (a) all Israel will come back one day to Jerusalem/Judah, but (b) human hopes aside, this will happen when YHWH decides that it be so. Till this day, within the discourse of Chronicles and much of the


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prophetic literature, there is not much real hope for a removal of the disgrace of exile or related disgraces for that matter. To be sure, Chronicles marginalizes those who remained outside the land, but there is more than a sense of disgrace about their choice. The text communicates a sense of total exclusion from the implied narrative of reconstruction. They are not mentioned as potential donors of goods or the like to be sent for the sake of the building of the temple. The builders of the temple, community and above all those who continue to develop the sacral history of Israel are, according to Chronicles, those in the land. In the large, inner Yehudite debate about the possible roles of non-Yehudite worshipers of the Israelite deity in Jerusalem/Yehud, the Chronicler stakes a clear position. Cf. and contrast with Zechariah 1–8. On the latter see J. Kessler, ‘Diaspora and Homeland in the Early Achaemenid Period: Community, Geography and Demography in Zechariah 1–8’, in Jon L. Berquist (ed.), NewApproaches to the Persian Period (Semeia Series; Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, forthcoming). 34. It also creates a sense of center and periphery concerning ‘the land’. See above. 35. It seems that the ideological question of whether the future holds a reunification of Israel and Judah under David, or a full gathering of exiles or not was a moot point in Persian Yehud. Some of the prophetic literature reflects positions that are not conveyed directly or indirectly by the book of Chronicles. The question of how Chronicles’ ideological constructions of peripheral/non-Yehudite Israel relate to those communicated by other books such as Hosea, Obadiah, Zephaniah, Zechariah, Ezra, Nehemiah requires a separate study.

Chapter 11 A GATEWAY TO THE CHRONICLER’S TEACHING: THE ACCOUNT OF THE REIGN OF AHAZ IN 2 CHRONICLES 28.1-27*

1. Introduction and Methodological Considerations The point is that we must see the Chronicler not as a poor historian or as a good historian, but as an interpreter. He handles the older traditions; he incorporates newer material in them; he rearranges, comments, elaborates, sermonizes – all with the purpose of bringing home to his readers (or perhaps his hearers, for the style is very strongly homiletic), the meaning for themselves of what is being related and expounded…he invites a particular kind of understanding, the pointing of a particular moral or theological insight (emphasis mine).1

It is generally agreed that the primary aim of the Chronicler was to instruct the historical community, that is, the community/ies for which the Book of Chronicles was composed.2 The instruction that 1–2 Chronicles brought home to its community concerned central theological issues, such as the meaning of human history, YHWH’s requirements of human beings, individual responsibility and divine retribution, legitimate and illegitimate political power, or inclusion and exclusion in Israel. The Chronicler does not claim to present a personal point of view on these issues, but to provide the community with YHWH’s point of view on them. True, the Chronicler never claimed to have received an oral or visual divine ‘revelation’ (i.e., God never ‘spoke’ to him/her,3 literally), but his/her implicit claim is that there is a way to understand God’s principles: to study the past, that is, to study ‘history’ as seen by the Chronicler. The underlying line of reasoning is that since it is assumed that God rules the world according to certain principles (cf. Prov. 8.22), then these principles can be abstracted from the results of the divine activity, that is, from what happens in history. Thus, if one desires to deduce divine principles concerning Israel and the Israelites, one may deduce these from the accounts reporting their operation in Israelite history. This paper focuses on one of these accounts, namely, the narrative of Ahaz’s reign over Judah in 2 Chron. 28.1-27 which is paradigmatic of both the Chronicler’s methodology and

11. A Gateway to the Chronicler’s Teaching

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his/her theological principles, and therefore, can be considered to be an appropriate gateway to the Chronicler’s religious thought and teaching.4 The account in 2 Chron. 28.1-27 is especially important because it is the only one in Chronicles that includes a reference to a community of kingless Israelites who lived in the post-Davidic–Solomonic period and reportedly behaved according to YHWH’s will (see vv. 9-15).5 Certainly, the community (or communities) within which and for which the book of Chronicles was composed were also kingless and one has to assume that they considered themselves to be capable of living in accordance with YHWH’s will. Thus, the circumstances of the historical community of the Chronicler and that of the reported Israelite community seem to be parallel, at least in this respect. It is reasonable to assume that among all the messages conveyed by 1–2 Chronicles to its historical audience, those conveyed by means of the single reference to a community considered to be similar to the actual audience relate to issues of main, and not peripheral, concern for the latter. This being the case, it is not surprising that the Sitz im Buch of the account in 2 Chron. 28.1-27 calls attention to its contents, for it is located at a turning point in the literary/historiographical discourse: the northern kingdom has just fallen and Judah and Jerusalem have reached their moment of greatest rebellion against the divine will; when their king voluntarily shuts down the Temple. Thus, the circumstances described in Abijah’s speech (2 Chron. 13.4-13; another text whose Sitz im Buch calls attention to its contents) have been reversed; an era has come to an end.6 Turning to the methodological underpinning of this article, it is the basic assumption of this paper that the historical-critical study of the communicative message of Chronicles cannot stop with a discussion of the surface (or textual, or literal) ‘meaning’; it must include the study of the conveyed meaning. The Chronicler, defined as the author/s of the book of Chronicles, is correctly understood to be a religious teacher/ preacher. This being the case, the focus of an historical-critical analysis of Chronicles has to be on reconstructed communicative meanings and especially (reconstructed) intentional communicative meanings.7 In ‘functional’ terms these meanings can be characterized as those that seem to be conveyed directly or indirectly by the text under discussion and that one may consider reasonable within the cultural/social milieu of the Chronicler and his/her audience. The study of these reconstructed intentional communicative meanings cannot be carried out without analyzing the implications, or more precisely, the implicatures of the accounts in Chronicles.8

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The study offered in this paper focuses on one of these accounts. That the Chronicler wished the audience to learn theological lessons from discrete units in Chronicles is a very reasonable assumption. The sheer length of the book (it is the longest book in the Old Testament/Hebrew Bible) and the wide range of theological issues discussed in the book makes the whole work an unmanageable teaching unit. Thus, it seems reasonable to assume that the book was communally studied piece by piece, and that the Chronicler was aware that such would be the case and wrote accordingly. Indeed, an analysis of discrete accounts in the book of Chronicles (and sometimes, even of portions of these accounts) shows that each of them shapes a persuasive communicative message that relates directly a few theological issues (or set of issues). This ‘narrow’ persuasive message was best suited to fulfill the Chronicler’s aim: to influence the behavior (and attitude) of the addressed community in regards to the discussed topic and to closely related issues, by implication. Yet, it would be unreasonable to assume that the author of 1–2 Chronicles was not aware that communal learning of account after account leads to cumulative results and that the lessons learned from one account cannot be kept separate from the lessons learned from another account. Thus, the reconstruction of the historical message of the Chronicler to the community should be conducted in two levels. The first is the level of the discrete account. This level is helpful for the understanding of the main teaching topic that the Chronicler wanted the audience to learn from an individual account or from a part of it, and of the main rhetoric strategies that the Chronicler uses to achieve this goal. The second level deals with interaction among the different topical lessons that the Chronicler wished the community to learn and with the theological perspectives brought up by this interaction. Such two-level reconstruction provides the interpretative key for the understanding of the comprehensive communicative meaning of the separate lessons. Of course, this interaction is likely to reflect more clearly the actual theological thought of the Chronicler than any single account, or a series of similar accounts whose aim is to teach the community the same lesson. Turning to the explicit contents of the account in 2 Chron. 28.1-27, it describes not only several representative deeds of the Judean king but also notes the attitude and behavior of the king’s subjects in general and of the leaders of the country in particular. It also reports on the actions and attitudes of Ahaz’s contemporaries in northern Israel. The Chronicler’s description of the history of this period diverges greatly from that in 2 Kgs 16.1-20.9 The purpose of this paper, however, is neither to reconstruct the


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history of Ahaz’s reign nor to discuss the possible existence or the nature of sources behind the Chronicler’s work. The purpose is, rather, to demonstrate how the account concerning Ahaz’s reign expresses many aspects of the Chronicler’s theology and to identify the divine principles concerning Israel (and the Israelites) that the author wished his/her readers to infer. 2. The Story of Ahaz and its Lessons 2.1. Concerning an Individually Assessed Correspondence between Action and Effect According to 2 Chron. 28.3-4 Ahaz followed the ways of the kings of Israel in their cultic misdeeds. He made molten images for the Baals (most likely an implicit comparison with Jeroboam I),10 made offerings in the Valley of Ben-Hinnom (without any parallel in 2 Kings but cf. Jer. 19.2-5), burned his sons,11 and made offerings at the bamot. God’s response to this wrongdoing is clear: God gave Ahaz into the hands of the king of Aram and also into the hands of the king of Israel (2 Chron. 28.5). In the Chronicler’s history, this kind of divine response to wrongdoing was attested in the past (e.g., 2 Chron. 12.1-6; 21.12-17 [esp. vv. 16-17]; 24.23-24; 25.14-22), exemplifies an individually assessed correspondence between action and effect,12 and is to be expected in the story. In fact, this part of the account is only another case of reports ‘documenting’ such a correspondence. Accordingly, a critical study of the specific lessons that the Chronicler wished to be inferred from this portion of ‘history’ cannot be carried out without an adequate examination of the communicative message of the entire documenting series. On the surface, such an examination is far from being a demanding task. Even a cursory reading of Chronicles shows that the author impressed this correspondence on the historical audience by his/her reporting of numerous cases in which a clear coherence between actions and effects was attested in ‘history’. Moreover, to make the point ‘fool-proof’, the Chronicler added explicit interpretative remarks to some of the accounts (e.g., 2 Chron. 12.5b). A closer examination of this series and of Chronicles as a whole, though, shows that the Chronicler never claimed, or even implied, that every historical event can be explained in terms of the direct correspondence between individual actions and necessary divine responses. To the contrary, the Chronicler ‘demonstrated’ through ‘historical’ examples that this

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principle of correspondence might fail occasionally. For instance, the book of Chronicles contains four accounts of pious kings who were attacked by powerful enemies (2 Chron. 14.8-14; 16.1-7; 20.1-30; 32.1-21). Whatever the results of these wars, such attacks were commonly considered to be typical divine responses to wrongdoing, as punishment (e.g., 2 Chron.12.25). True, these specific accounts can be explained in terms of ‘God testing kings’ (or human beings in general).13 But this explanation (which I accept) does not deny, but rather emphasizes that these accounts describe ‘effects’ (i.e., these attacks) that cannot be explained as the result of preceding human actions. History, therefore, is not considered to consist only of a series of human actions and divine responses to them which are governed by one consistent set of rules. Sometimes, YHWH would take the initiative and test pious kings. Moreover, a number of accounts in Chronicles describe ‘historical’ events that plainly contradict the principle of coherence between individual human actions and divine responses (i.e., ‘effects’), at least if they are assessed from the point of view of the individual, as the Chronicles usually does. For instance, the Chronicler extensively rewrote, and certainly reinterpreted, the story of David’s census in 2 Sam. 24.1-25 (see 1 Chron. 21.1-30). But this writer did not deviate from the claim in Samuel that 70,000 Israelites were killed because of David’s sin (1 Chron. 21.14; cf. 2 Sam. 24.15). In fact, an analysis of these two verses shows that the reference to the 70,000 Israelites is almost the only thing that the Chronicler copied verbatim from 2 Sam. 24.15. Ruling out as unreasonable any reconstruction of the Chronicler’s thought that assumes absentmindedness in the composition of this pericope, or more precisely, only absentmindedness in relation to the relevant sentence, one has to conclude that either the Chronicler wrote a story that explicitly claims that 70,000 Israelites were killed as a consequence of David’s sin or this theologian was unaware of – or decided to ignore – the implications of the (almost) only verbatim quotation from the deuteronomistic history in this pericope. But the second alternative is highly questionable for it involves circular thinking. In fact, an implied and ad hoc differentiation between significant and intentional messages conveyed by a skilful rewriting of received texts from the deuteronomistic history on the one hand, and the ‘accidental’ message concerning the 70,000 killed because of David’s sin, which was supposedly due to ‘careless’ quoting of the same sources on the other, can be maintained only if one assumes a priori that the Chronicler’s message


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concerning an individually assessed correspondence between actions and effects is such that it could not have included the implications of 1 Chron. 21.14. The argument, thus, turns conclusions conceived beforehand into necessary premises for its validity. Hence, it falls into the trap of circular thinking and, therefore, is to be rejected.14 To sum up, through the text of 1 Chron. 21.14, the audience of the Chronicler was informed of an important event15 that no individually assessed doctrine of coherence between actions and effects can explain. Another relevant example concerns YHWH’s choice of Solomon (1 Chron. 22.9-10; cf. 1 Chron. 28.5-7; 29.1). Even if Solomon’s election is interpreted there as YHWH’s granting Solomon the potential to build the temple and to establish the Davidic dynasty, such a grant is certainly a blessing. But this blessing is not and cannot be explained in terms of Solomon’s deeds; according to the Chronicler, Solomon was not even born at the time of YHWH’s election (1 Chron. 22.9). Examples of non-correspondence between individual deeds and an individually assessed YHWH’s divine response to them are not restricted to the pre-temple period. For instance, the claim in 2 Chron. 36.20-21 concerning the 70 years of exile implies that the fulfillment of a prophecy took precedence (at least in this case) over the principle of correspondence.16 Another clear illustration of how ‘history’ demonstrates that the principle of coherence is not always implemented concerns the fate of the ‘seer’ and some of the righteous people in 2 Chron.16.10, who were persecuted for their piety. Significantly, the last example points to a trend towards ‘prophetic martyrology’ that is also attested in Chronicles.17 To sum up, according to the Chronicler, ‘history’ and ‘reality’ cannot be explained only in terms of the principle of coherence of actions and effects. YHWH’s ways of governing the world consist of more than a rather mechanical principle of immediate individual retribution. This nuanced theological position is communicated to the community through a series of accounts qualifying the possible implicatures of each other. It is worth noting that the conclusion offered in section 2.1 above only corroborates what a basic logical analysis of the Chronicler’s claim clearly shows.18 The proposition ‘all historical events reflect (or can be explained in terms of) an individually assessed principle of coherence between action and effect’ is, of course, a kind of categorical proposition, namely the universal affirmative (hereafter, ‘A’). Hence, one may draw the following square of opposition

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In this square, ‘A’ represents the universal affirmative; ‘E’, the universal negative (i.e., ‘no historical events reflect an individually assessed principle of coherence between action and effect’); ‘I’, the particular affirmative (i.e., ‘there are some historical events that reflect an individually assessed principle of coherence between action and effect’); and ‘O’, the particular negative (i.e., ‘there are some historical events that do not reflect an individually assessed principle of coherence between action and effect’). ‘A’ and ‘E’ are contraries (i.e., both cannot be true but both can be false); ‘I’ and ‘O’ are subcontraries, (i.e., both can be true but both cannot be false); ‘A’ and ‘O’ as well as ‘E’ and ‘I’ are contradictory (i.e., both cannot be true and both cannot be false). The Chronicler repeatedly documents historical events that reflect, or can be explained in terms of, an individually assessed principle of coherence between action and effect. That is, the Chronicler claims that ‘I’ is true, and hence, that ‘E’ must be false. Whether ‘A’ is true or false cannot be decided on these grounds. But, as shown above, the Chronicler also reported historical events that cannot be explained in terms of the mentioned principle of coherence. That is, the Chronicler showed the community that ‘O’ is true, and therefore that ‘A’ is necessarily false. To sum up, the historical account in Chronicles conveys a clear message to the community: (a) by stating again and again that there are cases in which an individually assessed correspondence between actions and effects is clearly attested (i.e., an ‘O’ type of claim), it refutes the claim that there is no correspondence (i.e., an ‘A’ type of claim); and (b) by demonstrating that there are events that cannot be explained in terms of a coherence between individual actions and God’s response to them (i.e., another ‘O’


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type of claim), it refutes the position that such a coherence holds the only key for the understanding of ‘history’. True, the Chronicler invested much more effort in refuting the claim that there is no correspondence between actions and effects at all than in showing its limitations. One may assume that this reflects the historical and rhetorical situation. There was probably much more need of persuading the audience of the existence of such a correspondence than of demonstrating that it may occasionally fail, as common experience and some biblical passages strongly suggest.19 Moreover, the Chronicler was not only, or even mainly a ‘theologian’ but a preacher/teacher of ‘practical truths’. That is, the Chronicler taught the receiving community what they should do in order to live according to God’s will, and at the same time encouraged them to do so. It seems more congruent with this purpose to stress that claims of no correspondence between action and effects are utterly false, than to emphasize instances of incoherence between the two. As a preacher/teacher of practical truths, the Chronicler used ‘a manner calculated to sway the mind’ (cf. Augustine, On Christian Doctrine, IV, 13.12; 19.38). Of course, this manner does not stress the ifs and buts of the argument supporting the specific teaching lesson. Indeed, the latter are likely to be mentioned only if they can be successfully refuted (cf. the classical confutatio or refutatio). Thus, because of the persuasive character of the individual accounts in Chronicles ‘documenting’ correspondence between actions and effects (such as this part of the story of Ahaz), these accounts contain no ifs or buts. Nevertheless, as shown above, they are set in ‘proper’ perspective by other accounts in Chronicles.20 Returning to the story of Ahaz, the divine response in v. 5 to Ahaz’s wrongdoings in vv. 2-4 was expected in the story. It serves, together with similar reports of divine response, the communicative purpose of persuading the audience that there is a correspondence between individual actions and individually assessed effects. But one cannot learn from this part of the story – or from similar stories – that the Chronicler thought, believed, or wished to teach that this correspondence holds the only possible key for the understanding of past-events, and by inference, those of the present. 2.2. Concerning Wrong Ways of Learning from Experience/History The story of Ahaz in vv. 1-5 is resumed in v. 16. Had Ahaz understood that the reason for his misfortune was his forsaking God and accordingly repented and changed his behavior as did Rehoboam and Manasseh (2 Chron. 12.5-7; 33.12-16), a further disaster might have been avoided.21 But Ahaz thought that he was defeated simply because of his military

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inferiority. To remedy this, he appealed to Assyria for help. Ahaz is thus portrayed as understanding history as a human enterprise ruled by worldly forces. Thus, according to the inner logic of his Realpolitik he made the best available choice: to ask for Assyrian help (2 Chron. 28.16, see also v. 21). The subsequent verses in 2 Chronicles inform the audience that Ahaz was wrong. His humanly-based policy was a total failure: Edomites invaded and defeated Judah (v. 17);22 Philistines conquered Judean territory and settled in it (v. 18);23 and even the hired Tiglath-pileser, instead of fighting against Judah’s enemies,24 came and afflicted Ahaz (vv. 20-21). Ahaz’s policy and his secularized understanding of historical events were contradicted by experience. The failure of his policy and his worldly-based understanding of historical reality opened the door for Ahaz to resort to the divine, but with what results? Ahaz analyzed his own experience and drew inferences from it. If Damascus had been victorious, the reason must have been that the gods of Damascus had actually helped their worshippers. Might they not assist Ahaz if sacrifices were offered to them? So Ahaz offered sacrifices to the gods of Damascus (v. 23). The logical inference from this line of thought is obvious: Which gods are more worthy of being worshipped than the mighty gods whose power has been tested in history?25 For the Chronicler, however, history as understood by Ahaz (as this writer describes him) would only lead to greater apostasy, and indeed the last reported deeds of Ahaz describe his ultimate apostasy: he destroyed the vessels of the Jerusalem temple and closed its doors (vv. 23-25).26 Clearly, for the Chronicler, neither the way of Realpolitik which derives meaning from past events on the basis of a worldly understanding of historical reality nor the belief that the outcome on the battlefield is the ultimate empirical test by which human beings should choose which god deserves to be worshipped has validity. Struggling against these positions, the Chronicler endeavors to demonstrate that the ‘empirical’ evidence (that is, the subsequent ‘historical’ events) contradicts these two ways of deriving meaning from the past. The account of Ahaz’s days plainly falsifies the way of Realpolitik. The falsification of the ‘victorious’ god approach is indicated not only by the denial of burial royal honors (cf. 2 Kgs 16.20 with 2 Chron. 28.27)27 but also by the description of subsequent events. The last reported acts of Ahaz were the destruction of the temple vessels, the closing of the doors of the Jerusalem temple, the building of altars on every corner of Jerusalem, and the construction of bamot for foreign gods all over Judah (vv. 23-25). These actions of Ahaz set the scene for the subsequent narrative, the re-


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opening of the temple, the re-inauguration of worship in the opening days of Hezekiah’s rule,28 and the celebration of the event with a great festival, either Pesach or Succoth (cf. 1 Kings 8; Ezra 3.3-7, 8-13; 6.19-22; see also 2 Kgs 23.21-23). Moreover, joining the reform, the people (including northern Israelites) carry out the rest of the work, destroying all the illegitimate cultic centers and their cultic objects (2 Chron. 30.14; 31.1).29 The deeds attributed to Ahaz also set the scene for Hezekiah’s role in the re-establishment of the divisions of the priests and levites. Hezekiah assigns them their duties, and provides for their material needs (2 Chron. 31.2-31).30 Thereafter, neither Philistines nor Edomites threaten Judah, only the mighty Assyrian king, but his army is destroyed and he is killed by his own sons (2 Chron. 32.21). It is noteworthy that the Chronicler condensed into 22 verses the long account of the Assyrian campaign that was available to him/her (2 Kgs 18.13–19.37) but dedicated three chapters (more than 80 verses) to the deeds of Hezekiah (and the people) that preceded the campaign. For him/her, Hezekiah was a great king, the best king of the divided monarchy, but his grandeur is not to be derived from his success in war, even if God was behind it. His grandeur is to be derived from his cultic/religious acts; everything else is subordinate to and results from them (cf. 2 Chron. 14.2-15; 19.4–20.30). The Chronicler thus distills a simple example from which people can learn what God desires and the rules according to which the Deity governs history. Some further considerations are in order. Ahaz is the worst king of Judah in Chronicles, a very extreme example of what a sinner may be; yet the text clearly implies that he is a rational person. What can be the mindset reflected and communicated by this implicature? What could the historical community learn about the roots of sinful behavior from the story of Ahaz? Certainly not that sin is necessarily rooted in emotions,31 nor that it is illogical (cf. Isa. 1.3). Sin, in this story, is associated either with Ahaz’s rational way of deriving knowledge from the past or with the basic premises on which his reasoning rested. Since the book of Chronicles does not reject rational thinking per se, nor propose an alternative to it, it is reasonable to assume that the community was asked to conclude that the cause of Ahaz’s sin rests in his premises. His first premise concerns Realpolitik, or in general terms a worldly outlook, which does not take into consideration YHWH’s actions. In this respect, one may compare Ahaz with Asa in 2 Chron. 14.12, who seeks (only) the physicians in his illness. In sum, a rational earthly attitude that does not take into consideration YHWH and which is not linked to an active ‘seeking’ of YHWH leads to sin (cf. Ps. 111.10; Prov. 9.10).

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Ahaz’s second premise is that when one is to choose which god to worship one should decide on empirical grounds that take into consideration only the contemporaneous history of Israel. If this were the case, there would be no reasonable way to decide whether a present situation of oppression, misfortune, and the like are due to Israel’s sins and YHWH’s judgment or to the power of other gods who successfully support their worshippers. The solution to this dilemma is to be found in ‘history’. If YHWH was able to deliver Israel in the past, the issue is not of YHWH’s ability (or other gods’ capabilities), but of YHWH’s willingness. The Chronicler ‘demonstrates’ to the receiving community that a survey of Israelite history shows beyond doubt that YHWH’s willingness is related to Israel’s seeking YHWH (cf. 1 Chron. 28.9), and obeying YHWH.32 3. King, Elite and ‘Common’ People Ahaz failed militarily and Judah paid the price for his failure – 120,000 of her soldiers killed and 200,000 Judeans taken captive (2 Chron. 28.5-8, 16). Since ‘history’ reflects God’s rules, the receiving audience may wonder whether according to these rules the king’s subjects should die because of the monarch’s sins. The Chronicler through the account of Ahaz’s days in 2 Chronicles 28 gives a negative answer.33 Many Judeans were killed in these wars, but v. 6 indicates that they died because ‘they had forsaken YHWH, the God of their fathers’, not simply because Ahaz forsook God. That is, individual responsibility and individual punishment are brought to a rare and extreme expression.34 Since those who died were the sinners,35 it is clear that Maaseiah, the king’s son,36 Azrikam, the nagid of the House, and Elkanah, the second to the king (v. 7) had also forsaken God. The report of their deaths is uncommon in Chronicles, and one may assume that the reference is made in order to indicate that they also were among the sinners. Thus, according to the Chronicler, not only was Ahaz a sinner but so too were the highest rank of officers around him, including at least one member of the royal family, and probably his own son. If ‘House’ refers to the Jerusalem temple and not the royal palace,37 then the Chronicler intended the reader to note that the corruption reached into high offices of the temple.38 Therefore, the king was not alone in his actions, but the ruling elite behaved like him, as did hundreds of thousands of other Judeans. The military and political fate of Judah, as a whole, was dependent not only on the king’s behavior but on a combination of his behavior, the behavior of


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his ruling elite, and the behavior of the people, and beyond that any Judean was personally accountable for his or her acts before God. This account is also a typical example of the tendency in Chronicles to describe the (earthly) Judean center of power during the monarchy in terms of the king, his elite, and to a lesser extent, ‘the people’.39 This tendency points to limits to the legitimate use of power of the king and to his personal responsibility vis à vis the entire kingdom. Thus, contrary to deuteronomistic perspectives that relate the fate of the kingdom to the (cultic) deeds of the king (e.g., 2 Kgs 24.3), the Chronicler, faithful to an approach that demonstrates the correspondence of actions of the individual and his or her fate, relates it to the deeds of the kings, the elite, and the ‘common people’.40 But this is not the entire picture, nor can it be. On the one hand, the kingdom flourishes under good kings – because they are successful kings – and dwindles under the bad ones – because they are unsuccessful kings. On the other hand, a prosperous kingdom goes together with an elite and ‘people’ who behave according to YHWH’s will, and conversely an ebbing kingdom, with an elite and ‘people’ who do not seek God. Thus, in so far as the Chronicler is consistent with these propositions, this writer is able to present to his/her audience just two types of monarchical societies. The first one consists of a wrongdoing king, elite and people, and the second of a righteous king, elite and people.41 Thus, the Chronicler’s history implies that during the monarchy, the king was so influential that the behavior of his subjects closely follows his, and therefore, he strongly conditions both the fate of the kingdom and the behavior and fate of the people as individuals.42 This implicature is strongly supported by the Chronicler’s account of several cases of immediate changes in the attitude of the elite and the people following the death of the king. For instance, as soon as Hezekiah replaced Ahaz, the elite and the people had a complete change of heart (see 2 Chronicles 29–31; see above). Even more dramatic, and perhaps more significant for the understanding of this aspect of the message of Chronicles, are the sudden changes of heart in the elite and the people that immediately follow the death of a wrongdoing king. Even before such a king is buried, both elite and people recognize that the deceased did not follow the ways of God, and therefore does not deserve burial honors.43 In this regard, the Chronicler ‘demonstrates’ that history shows that whenever the leadership of the bad king vanishes, the Israelites revert to a ‘natural’ recognition of God’s ways and of the importance of their implementation.44 Thus, the text conveys a clear message to its historical audience: (a) the

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Israelites are ‘by nature’ righteous, but because of wrong leadership they may go astray; (b) the king is only a human but he may influence the behavior of other humans to a large degree; and (c) no matter how strong this influence is, the responsibility for the actions of the individual rests on the individual.45 4. Colossal Numbers: Heroic but Not Discontinuous Past According to the Chronicler, 200,000 Judeans were brought to Israel as captives and no less than 120,000 Judean soldiers fell in one day of war against Israel (2 Chron. 28.6). Although these numbers appear exorbitant, they are relatively modest if compared to the 500,000 soldiers of Israel that reportedly fell in the Abijah-Jeroboam war (2 Chron. 13.17), or to the 580,000 soldiers in Asa’s army that fought the 1,000,000 men in the army of Zerah (2 Chron. 14.7). There is no doubt, however, that such figures do not match the population of monarchic Judah nor the population of the Persian province of Yehud. For instance, the population of monarchic Jerusalem, at its zenith, is estimated at about 25,000 and during the Persian period at only 5,000.46 Of course, both the Chronicler and the audience were aware that these are ‘colossal’ numbers.47 Neither the Chronicler nor the community could have failed to grasp the huge discrepancy between these numbers and their common experience, and accordingly the ‘unrealistic’ note they introduce into the story. Thus, the many references to these colossal numbers in Chronicles not only conveyed a message to the community but also call attention to it. What was the historical-communicative message of this persistent historiographical feature?48 To answer this question, one should consider both the (relative) paucity of the community within which and for which the book of Chronicles was composed, and the Chronicler’s claim that the story represents what happened to the forefathers of the addressees, when they were living on the same land now inhabited by his/her audience. While the geographical features of the land remained the same through the generations, the ‘human’ features are certainly different. The members of the Chronicler’s audience could not but wonder how tiny is their community if compared with monarchic Judah. Nevertheless, they are told by the Chronicler that all the past grandeur was of no help to their ancestors because God ruled over that ‘crowded’ world according to the same divine rules which govern their own ‘small’ world. The First Temple period is presented then as a very remote, ‘heroic’ past,49 but one without heroes. It was a time in which human beings had to decide between doing God’s will or rejecting it, and thereafter to bear the consequences of their decision


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(e.g., 2 Chron. 12.5-7; 16.7-11). That is, it was a time similar to their own time. In sum, the Chronicler taught his/her community that there was indeed an old ‘heroic’ period, but one that differed only quantitatively from their own days; certainly not qualitatively. True, there were more people, but only people who were like them, and above all YHWH who does not change. The importance of this understanding of the past is quite clear: no practical lesson can be drawn from history unless one presupposes its basic uniformity (namely, its continuity) through the ages,50 and in a language more appropriate to the Chronicler’s own outlook, unless one presupposes that the principles according to which God governs the world do not change through the ages.51 5. The Account Concerning the Northern Israelites and its Lessons Ahaz and many Judeans forsook God but at the same time, their kin in the north behaved differently. According to 2 Chron. 28.8-15, the northern tribes took captives from Judah but instead of enslaving them, they freed the captives and clothed them, gave them food, drink, and sandals and even anointed them. No booty was taken. The Chronicler explains this supposedly unexpected behavior52 through introducing into the story the figure of Oded, a prophet of YHWH, who was in Samaria and warned his people not to anger YHWH by failing to behave according to God’s requirements. The story moves then to some of the heads (chiefs) of Ephraim who acknowledge their sins (v. 13) and to the people there who agree with them. The report of these actions conveys a clear meaning: (1) the people of the north were Yahwistic;53 (2) they had prophets like the southerners;54 (3) their prophets had the same characteristics as the southerners, that is, they were warning speakers, preachers;55 and (4) the same divine rules, such as warning before punishment, the possibility of repentance, and accountability before God,56 all applied to the northerners as well as to the southerners. Thus, the Chronicler conveys a clear message to the community: there was no essential difference between the children of the north and the children of the south – both were the children of Israel and should worship the God of Israel.57 Furthermore, both may or may not sin; there is no naturally inherited tendency to sin. The children of the sinners may behave differently from their parents or even change their own ways; yet even a Davidic king may fail, and Ahaz’s behavior demonstrates this principle beyond any doubt.

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Nevertheless, the Davidic king was the legitimate king. The very existence of a non-Davidic king in the north was an act of rebellion against God’s will (see, e.g., 2 Chron. 13.4-5) and those who obeyed him were in rebellion against YHWH (e.g., 2 Chron. 11.13-16; 13.5-7). Significantly, the first reference to the Ephraimites living in the north58 in which they are described as a people who listen to the warning of a prophet/preacher and seek or come back to YHWH, is the account discussed here (vv. 8-15). In this report, the ‘heads of Ephraim’ and the people made all the relevant decisions; they did not ask the permission nor hear the word of the king. The king of Israel is mentioned for the last time in the book of Chronicles in vv. 6-7. As soon as the narrative describes the Israelites in a positive light, that is, from v. 8 on, the northern king and all his power vanish entirely. Such synchronization between the disappearance of the rule of the non-Davidic king over Israel and Israel’s coming back to YHWH is not accidental. Other post-Jeroboam I references to the Israelites, or to some of them, as people seeking God, all omit any reference to the king of Israel (2 Chron. 30.1, 10-11, 18-20; 31.1; 34.9) and presuppose the non-existence of the kingdom of Israel.59 Thus, on the one hand, the author of the book of Chronicles wants to illustrate a general rule: after the election of the House of David, accepting the legitimacy of a non-Davidic king over Israel does not go together with seeking God.60 But on the other hand, the Chronicler describes an Ephraimite community, which even if it had sinned before, could, when no Davidic king rules over it, behave according to God’s will, provided their members hear the voice of the prophet/preacher. Clearly, this community resembles in many aspects the living community addressed by the Chronicler. Given (a) the communicative character of the work of the Chronicler (and especially its emphasis on teaching and preaching), (b) the Chronicler’s stress on the centrality of righteous behavior (including attitude) of every member of the Persian-period Judaic community,61 and (c) the underlying social importance of the identification of the living community with the reported image of ancient communities, one is to conclude that the Chronicler most likely employed this account to convey some of his/her central messages to the community. The analysis offered above certainly supports this conclusion. Further study on the Chronicler’s report of the actions of the northern Israelites buttresses the case even more, for it shows that this report imparts (by implicature, as usual in Chronicles) several central theological positions that shed light on the general religious thought of the Chronicler.


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The Chronicler taught the community that no Israelite (including each and anyone of the addressees) can behave righteously and at the same time accept a non-Davidic king, because of the election of the House of David. But, at the same time, the Chronicler communicates to the community that the presence of a Davidic king is not a necessary condition for behaving according to YHWH’s will, as clearly ‘demonstrated’ by these northern Israelites.62 Moreover, it must be noticed that the account in 2 Chron. 28.8-15 clearly implies that even when a Davidic king is historically present, Israelites who behave according to God’s will are not necessarily and unconditionally required to rally round the king. The northern Israelites described here are kingless, but they do not and are not required by a true prophet to turn to Ahaz. Although because of the magnitude of the ‘evil’ deeds attributed to Ahaz, the account deals with an extreme case, it nevertheless points to the Chronicler’s approach to the figure of the Davidic king in principle. According to this approach, rejecting the authority of a Davidic king cannot always be seen as rejection of YHWH’s will. On the contrary, such an action may sometimes even express the acceptance of YHWH’s will. Thus, the actual (in contrast to the ‘potential’) legitimacy of the rule of the Davidic king depends on his seeking YHWH and behaving accordingly, as they were interpreted by the Chronicler.63 The community addressed by the Chronicler lived without a Davidic king, and Israel had been living without such a king for some generations before the composition of 1–2 Chronicles.64 The position expressed here by the Chronicler reassures the historical community of its ability to seek God and behave in accordance with righteousness. Such a reassurance is certainly expected because of the emphasis of the Chronicler on right and wrong behavior; on the responsibility of each individual to choose between the two; and on the consequences that follow such a choice – all of which would be irrelevant if the people addressed by the Chronicler were unable to seek God and behave accordingly; if they had no choice to make. To summarize, while certainly important, the house of David is not a necessary condition for the well-being of the Israelites. Eternal election does not mean necessity of actual presence, it only means that no legitimate replacement can ever exist. The exaltation of David and Solomon is then put in ‘proper’ perspective.65 A similar situation concerns the election of Jerusalem and the Temple.66 According to our passage, the northern Israelites conclude their actions not by ‘going up’ to the temple, but by going back to Samaria (v. 15b). In fact, neither the prophet nor the praiseworthy leaders even mention the

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temple. The reason for that seems clear: the reported situation precludes the ‘going up’ of pious Israelites to Jerusalem to worship, because the Jerusalemite temple had been polluted by Ahaz, and therefore no righteous Israelite, northern or southern, could worship there.67 But if this is the case, then the account ‘demonstrates’ that Israel can seek God and behave accordingly without the assistance of the temple. Thus, on the one hand, the Chronicler conveyed many times that the cult at the temple is extremely important.68 Moreover, the Chronicler’s idealization of the figure of David (and in close relationship to it, that of Solomon, the actual builder of the temple) is directly related to David’s role as the founder of the temple and the temple cult (along with Moses).69 Furthermore, even the third election in Chronicles, namely that of the Levites70 is directly related to the establishment of the temple cult by David, and of course, to its continuous existence. On the other hand, the Chronicler qualified these positions by building in his/her message a sense of ‘proper’ proportion. Namely, that the temple, though very important, is not an absolutely essential institution in Israel. Thus, the eternal election of the temple, and of the Levites for their specific tasks there, does not mean that their actual presence is an absolute necessity, but only that there can be no legitimate replacement for them.71 This position should not surprise us, for the Chronicler and the addressed community knew that there was an inter-temple period in Israel’s history, and they – especially the Chronicler – could have hardly imagined that during this period the Israelites were unable to seek God and behave accordingly, that the inter-temple Israelites had no choice but to err.72 The (northern) Israelites had neither a Davidic king nor a legitimate temple to worship, but they had a prophet to teach them what they ought to do. The account emphasizes the importance of the presence of the prophet of YHWH (see the emphatic opening in v. 9) and clearly points to his speech as the reason for the change of heart of the northern Israelites. The account implies that these Israelites would not have behaved in godly ways if the prophet had not been there to confront the people. While the prophets fulfill many functions in Chronicles,73 among the most important is to explain to the members of the community what God wants them to do, to encourage them to do so, and to bring an awareness of the consequences that would likely follow any of their choices. This being the case, from the viewpoint of the community the figure of the prophet is always secondary to that of the prophet’s teaching. It is the prophetic teaching of God’s requirements from human beings that is necessary for the well-being of the community, and, accordingly, even nonprophetic figures (and basically any person in Israel) may occasionally fulfil


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the role of the prophet.74 Therefore, the prophetic role is essential to society but its fundamental character derives from the fundamental character of the divine teachings. Thus, the reason that in Chronicles rejecting the authority and counsel of the prophet of YHWH leads to divine punishment, but that the same does not necessarily hold true in respect to a Davidic king or any other religious/political figure becomes clear: the former implies rejection of the divine instruction, while the latter does not necessarily imply such rejection (see Section 5.2). The northern Israelites – with whom the audience is asked to identify – are described as complying with YHWH’s will not because they came to the temple to worship, but because they freed the captive, fed the hungry, watered the thirsty, and clothed the naked.75 Needless to say, this text in Chronicles does not promote a religion without ‘cult’. Because of the circumstances in which these Israelites reportedly found themselves, no ‘cultic’ concerns could have been addressed in 2 Chron. 28.9-15. But, in any case, the Chronicler conceived a society that behaves righteously even when no ‘cultic’ actions can be legitimately performed (see Section 5.3). It is worth noting that such a society is described in terms of actions such as freeing the captive, feeding the hungry, and the like. The prophetic teaching is valuable because it is considered to reflect God’s positions vis à vis the choices that face a ‘historical’ community in particular circumstances. But God’s requirements from human beings are not arbitrary. If they were, there would be no point in studying God’s requirements in the past, and people would be completely dependent on ‘new revelations’ through living prophets. Certainly, the Chronicler did not assume that God’s requirements are arbitrary. Instead, he/she claimed that they fall into a coherent pattern, and therefore, to a certain extent are predictable. In other words, that knowledge about God’s requirements is at least potentially available to everyone who seeks God and God’s advice and accordingly sets out to learn these requirements. One may conclude, therefore, that what is absolutely necessary for the existence of a righteous Israelite community is neither the Temple nor the Davidic king, nor even a prophet, but knowledge of the corpus of YHWH’s requirements from Israel, namely the Torah of YHWH in its wider sense. Significantly, the Chronicler’s basic premise is that ‘history’ is the result of the interaction between human and divine actions, and therefore, if patterns can be discerned in the interaction, then the rules (or, perhaps guidelines) according to which God governs the world can be abstracted

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from an analysis of the historical past.76 Within the theological thought of the Chronicler, the knowledge derived in this form would not stand instead of, but as a further contribution to the existent communal knowledge of YHWH’s requirements and attributes which is based not only on the literature considered to be authoritative by the Chronicler and his/her community (i.e., the Pentateuch) but also on its interpretation/s.77 It is the resultant enlarged corpus of knowledge about God and God’s requirements, this Torah, that the Chronicler considered to be essential for the establishment of a positive relationship between God and the members of the community.78 Turning to the Chronicler as a ‘producer’ and teacher of the knowledge about YHWH that can be derived from ‘history’, such a writer would fulfil a role similar to that of the ancient prophet.79 Certainly, the Chronicler as a human person did not consider himself/herself as essential to the existence of a righteous community of Israelites. After all, the Chronicler is a mortal, and Israelite communities were supposed to be able to know God’s requirements and follow them before the Chronicler’s birth and after his/her death. Nor is it reasonable to assume that the Chronicler thought that ‘historians’ in his/her image were absolutely necessary, for it would be difficult to believe that he/she envisaged people writing works such as Chronicles in every generation. But, given the essential character the Chronicler ascribed to the Torah of YHWH (in its wider sense), it seems reasonable to assume that this theologian considered the interpreters, teachers, and preachers of this Torah, that is, those who fulfilled this prophetic role, as an absolutely necessary element for the development of the correct relationship between the people as individuals and God, and consequently, for the establishment of a righteous society composed of righteous people. 6. Conclusions The account of the reign of Ahaz in the Book of Chronicles (2 Chron. 28.127) can be considered as a paradigm of the Chronicler’s thought. It is most useful as a kind of gateway that leads to a better understanding of the Chronicler’s thought. This account illustrates the Chronicler’s method of deriving knowledge about the rules according to which God controls and regulates history, and some of the main results of the Chronicler’s method. The Chronicler’s account of the reign of Ahaz clearly shows that the ‘historical’ lessons that the Chronicler wanted to teach the addressed community were integral to the real conditions in which both author and


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audience lived and as such should be understood. For instance, the question of whether Israel can live in accordance with God’s will without a Davidic king is unequivocally answered. No matter how much the Chronicler glorifies David, Israel can live in accordance with YHWH’s will without having a Davidic king (i.e., without changing the basic socialpolitical circumstances of the Chronicler’s historical community), provided that there is someone who teaches the people what constitutes the divine will. The present analysis pointed to several important lessons that the Chronicler wished the receiving community to abstract from his/her ‘historical’ account. Among them one may mention: (a) the existence of a correspondence between actions and effects that is maintained by God, according to certain rules and qualifications; (b) the continuity of history through time due to the permanent character of both God’s rules for governing the world and the human choice to accept or reject God’s will; (c) the godly character of freeing the captive, feeding the hungry, and the like; (d) the actual meaning of divine elections; (e) sin is not necessarily related to an irrational attitude; a rational earthly attitude that does not take into consideration YHWH and which is not linked to an active ‘seeking’ of YHWH leads to sin (cf. Ps. 111.10; Prov. 9.10); (f) the importance but not absolute necessity of the existence of a Davidic king for developing a positive relation between YHWH and Israel, and between YHWH and each individual Israelite; (g) the importance but not absolute necessity of the existence of the Temple for developing a positive relation between YHWH and Israel, and between YHWH and each individual Israelite; (h) the absolute necessity of the knowledge of the Torah (in its wider sense), and accordingly of the work of its interpreters and teachers – such as the Chronicler – for developing a positive relation between YHWH and Israel, and between YHWH and each individual Israelite. This paper also sheds light into the Chronicler’s teaching/preaching method. It demonstrates that the nuanced theology of the Chronicler was communicated to the audience through separate accounts qualifying each other. The lessons abstracted from the separate ‘historical’ accounts were thus set in ‘proper’ theological perspective. In addition, this paper illustrates the character of the educational religious literature of the period. This literature was not written according

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to an ‘essayist’ model, in which the text consists of an explicitation of information and logical relationships. The book of Chronicles was written to develop knowledge by means of communal reading and interpreting, and accordingly, most of its messages are not in the form of explicit logical claims but that of implied knowledge ‘waiting’ to be ‘discovered’ by the learning community.80 Excursus The position offered here solves the problem that had continually beset the dating of 1–2 Chronicles to the fourth century or later, namely that this dating does not provide the most likely historical background for the writing and teaching of a book supporting both the re-establishment of the Davidic monarchy and of the temple. The argument advanced here demonstrates that the book of Chronicles is not a piece of propaganda calling for the re-establishment of the Davidic monarchy, in the here and now. Moreover, it is worth noting that the Chronicler did not consider the re-establishment of the temple as necessarily related to the re-establishment of the Davidic monarchy. True, the Chronicler thought of David as a founder of the temple cult, of Solomon as the builder of the temple, and of Hezekiah as the king who re-consecrated the temple. Moreover, the Chronicler certainly maintained that the temple cult ought to follow David’s ordinances. But the Chronicler lived in the Second Temple period and did not reject that temple. That is, a temple that was considered to be reestablished by the initiative of God, but through the actions of Persian kings, who fulfilled in this case the role of the Davidic kings in the monarchic period (see 2 Chron. 36.23; even if for the sake of the argument one accepts that this verse is a late addition, the undeniable fact remains that the Chronicler and the historical audience knew that their temple was built ‘by’ a Persian king). Against this background, the theme of the Davidic election conveys two negative claims: (a) no non-Davidic Israelite leader in the province of Yehud can legitimately claim kingship, and (b) although Persian kings may fulfill important Davidic roles, and the community may accept their rule without transgressing YHWH’s will, these kings are not to be considered as human representatives of the ‘kingdom of YHWH’ over Israel (see 1 Chron. 17.14; 28.5; 29.23; 2 Chron. 9.8; 13.8),81 since such a role can be fulfilled only by the House of David (contrast with Isa. 44.28, and esp. 45.21, as well as with Isa. 55.3 which ‘democratizes’ the Davidic election).82


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One may note that the argument presented here does not support the idea that the rule of a Davidic king is conceived as necessarily incompatible with the (over)rule of a Persian king. Thus, the question concerning the expected roles of the Davidic king in the Second Temple period remains open. One possible answer is that the Davidic king was conceived as a powerful independent monarch who will re-establish the kingdom of Israel as it was in the Davidic–Solomonic period. But another possible answer is that this king was envisaged as an Ezekielian ‫ נשׂיא‬or as an archon, as was understood by some Jews during the Hellenistic period.83 The Chronicler’s addition to the deuteronomistic history in 2 Chron. 36.13a (cf. Ezek. 17.1121), the positive note concerning the Persian king in 2 Chron. 36.22-23, and together with the fact that the last two godly addresses to Israel, or to Israelites, in Chronicles are put in the mouth of two foreign hegemonic kings (2 Chron. 35.21; 36.23) suggest that the Chronicler was more inclined to the second alternative than to the first.84 The issue, however, stands beyond the scope of this paper, and deserves a study of its own. Endnotes * This chapter is a slightly modified version of a contribution first published as ‘A Gateway to the Chronicler’s Teaching: The Account of the Reign of Ahaz in 2 Chr 28,1-27’, SJOT 7 (1993), pp. 216-49. I wish to express my gratitude to The Scandinavian Journal for the Study of the Old Testament for allowing me to republish this essay in the present volume. 1. P.R. Ackroyd, ‘The Theology of the Chronicler’, LTQ 8 (1973), pp. 101-16, esp. 104. 2. By the Chronicler I mean the author (or authors) of the Book of Chronicles. (Note: At the time of writing the original version of this contribution I still thought that I was analyzing the actual author or authors. Later I became aware that, in fact, I was dealing with the implied author of Chronicles all along.) It would be unnecessary here to recapitulate the well-known, ongoing controversy concerning the proposal of single authorship (or unity of compilation) of Chronicles and Ezra-Nehemiah. For ‘classical’ works on this subject see, for instance, S. Japhet, ‘The Supposed Common Authorship of Chronicles and Ezra-Nehemiah Investigated Anew’, VT (1968); H.G.M. Williamson, Israel in the Books of Chronicles (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1977), pp. 330-71, and F.M. Cross, ‘A Reconstruction of the Judean Restoration’, JBL 94 (1975), pp. 4-18. (Given the extensive writing on Chronicles in modern research and the scope of a scholarly article, there is no attempt in this work to provide a comprehensive bibliography; the bibliographical references mentioned in this article should be understood as merely illustrative.) In fairness to Ackroyd, one must mention that in the quotation opening this article, he considered the Chronicler to be the author or compiler of Ezra, Nehemiah and 1–2 Chronicles (Ackroyd, ‘Theology of the Chronicler’, pp. 102-103), but he would certainly agree that his remarks relate as well to the Chronicler had he considered the

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Chronicler to be the author of a separate book of Chronicles. For a more recent statement of Ackroyd’s position, see P.R. Ackroyd, ‘The Historical Literature’, in D.A. Knight and G.M. Tucker (eds.), The Hebrew Bible and its Modern Interpreters (Philadelphia and Chico: Fortress Press, 1985), pp. 297-323, esp. 307. 3. Because of the gender structure of the society in which the Book of Chronicles was composed, it seems most likely that the Chronicler was male. Nevertheless the use of male pronouns when referring to the Chronicler may suggest – especially in modern English discourse – that female authorship of religious texts such as Chronicles is an absolute impossibility. Accordingly, I will use neutral pronominal forms, such as he/she and the like. 4. This approach has been chosen because of some methodological advantages. To begin with, a study focused on one paradigmatic account may effectively show the way in which important theological tenets of the Chronicler, as abstracted from a representative series of accounts, interact with each other. Therefore, it suits better the task of reconstructing what the text communicated to its historical community than studies arranged according to thematic rubrics, such as ‘the Davidic election (or covenant)’ or ‘the principle of immediate retribution’. After all, it is certain that the community was asked to read and learn a series of related accounts and not a (systematic) theological treatise (cf. S. McEvenue, Interpreting the Pentateuch [Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1990], p. 38). A second advantage of this approach is that the focusing of the discussion on one paradigmatic account renders a meaningful study of the Chronicler’s thought manageable within the limits of a journal article (cf. D.G. Deboys, ‘History and Theology in the Chronicler’s portrayal of Abijah’, Bib 71 [1990], pp. 48-62, esp. 49). 5. The reference to the Davidic–Solomonic period as a watershed needs to be explained. According to the Chronicler, the election of the House of David was established forever at the Davidic–Solomonic period. Both David and Solomon have a foundational role in this respect. See H.G.M. Williamson, ‘The Dynastic Oracle in the Books of Chronicles’, in Y. Zakovitch and A. Rofé (eds.), I.L. Seeligman Volume (Jerusalem: Hotsa’at Elhanan Rubinshtayn, 1983), pp. 305-18; idem, ‘Eschatology in Chronicles’, TynB 28 (1977), pp. 115-54. Significantly, Hezekiah, whose reign is presented as a kind of ‘restoration’ of the Davidic–Solomonic period, is compared with both David and Solomon (see M.A. Throntveit, When Kings Speak: Royal Speech and Royal Prayer in Chronicles (SBLDS, 93; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1987), pp. 121-24). Concerning the relation between the accounts of David and of Solomon, see also R. Braun, 1 Chronicles (WCB, 14; Waco, TX: Word Books, 1986), pp. xxxii-xxxv. For the position that Hezekiah is ‘einen zweiten David’ (but not a second Solomon) see R. Mosis, Untersuchungen zur Theologie des chronistischen Geschichtswerkes (FTS, 92; Freiburg: Herder, 1973), pp.189-92; for the position that Hezekiah is described as a second Solomon, see, for instance, H.G.M. Williamson, Israel in the Books of Chronicles (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1977), pp. 119-25. On the basis of 2 Chron. 32.7-8, several scholars have argued that the Chronicler identified Hezekiah with the ideal Davidic king, Immanuel (see J.M. Myers, 1 Chronicles (AB, 12; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1965), p. 187; A. Laato, ‘Hezekiah and the Assyrian Crisis in 701 B.C.’, SJOT 2 (1987), pp. 49-68, esp. 67). On some of these matters see, recently, M.A. Throntveit, ‘The Relationship of Hezekiah to David and Solomon in the Books of Chronicles’, in


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M.P. Graham, S.L. McKenzie and G.N. Knoppers (eds.), The Chronicler as Theologian: Essays in Honor of Ralph W. Klein (JSOTSup, 371; New York: T&T Clark, 2003), pp. 105-21. 6. It is also noteworthy that the story of the rising of the new era (that of the ‘reunited monarchy’) begins immediately after 2 Chron. 28.1-27, in 2 Chron. 29.1-4. Cf. Throntveit, When Kings Speak, pp. 113-25. On the relation between Abijah’s speech and the account in 2 Chron. 28, see also n. 11. (Note: Later I came to the conclusion that in Chronicles there is no ‘re-united monarchy’, though to be sure, the Jerusalemite center is characterized as more able to properly socialize Northern Israel into Israel following the fall of the northern monarchy. On these matters see Chapters 6 and 10.) 7. On methodological issues related to the use of concepts such as intentions, motives (to be distinguished from ‘intentions’) and implicatures for historical-critical biblical exegesis, see M.G. Brett, ‘Motives and Intentions in Genesis I’, JTS 42 (1991), pp. 1-16. 8. For the theoretical basis of this approach, see, for instance, S.C. Levinson, Pragmatics (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983). See also M.G. Brett, ‘Motives’. Following Brett, I will use the term ‘implicatures’, rather than ‘implications’, to underscore the difference between conveying meanings through indirect communication and deriving knowledge through strictly logical ‘implications’. See Brett, ‘Motives’, p. 10. According to Hirsch’s terminology, the study delineated here deals with the ‘original significance’ of these accounts, and of Chronicles in general. See E.D. Hirsch, Jr, The Aims of Interpretation (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1976), pp. 85-87, 146. 9. The account parallels the report on Ahaz in 2 Kings only in its opening and closing notes and in both cases only partially. It differs from the latter in its reconstruction of the Syro-Ephraimite crisis, the nature of the Assyrian intervention, and the actions of Ahaz concerning the temple in Jerusalem. In addition, it introduces entirely new elements. For a short summary of the main differences, see, e.g., R. Mason, Preaching the Tradition (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990), pp. 91-92. 10. This comparison suggests that accusations that Abijah brought against Israel according to 2 Chron. 13.8-9 are partially applicable to Judah during the reign of Ahaz. See Williamson, Israel, p. 115; idem, 1 and 2 Chronicles (NCBC; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1982), p. 344; R.B. Dillard, 2 Chronicles (WBC, 15; Waco, TX: Word Books, 1987), p. 221. 11. ‘Sons’ and not ‘son’ as in the parallel account in 2 Kgs 16.3 (only GL reads ‘sons’ as Chronicles here). A similar case occurs in 2 Chron. 33.6. There the Chronicler’s account reads ‘sons’ instead of ‘son’ as in the parallel account in 2 Kgs 21.6 (so MT; the LXX reads ‘sons’). The MT in 2 Chron. 28.3 reads ׁ‫ויבער את בניו באש‬, the LXX, the Targum, and the Peshitta point to an alternative Hebrew reading, ‫ויעבר את בניו באשׁ‬. According to L.C. Allen The Greek Chronicles. I. The Translator’s Craft (SVT, 25; 2 vols.; Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1977), p. 210) the MT reading is the original; W. Rudolph (Chronikbücher [HAT: Tübingen: J.C.B. Mohr – Paul Siebeck, 1955], p. 288) considers both alternatives as possibly original readings. Dillard suggests that the difference does not represent a tendentious change from singular to plural but rather a difference between plene and defectiva orthography. See Dillard, 2 Chronicles, p. 218. 12. That is the so-called ‘theology of retribution’ of the Chronicler. Of course, the

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term ‘retribution’ has negative connotations and unduly limits the scope of the Chronicler’s theological position (see, e.g., 2 Chron. 17.1-5; 27.6). The terminology used here follows B.S. Childs (Introduction to the Old Testament as Scripture [Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1979], pp. 651-53). See also R.B. Dillard, ‘Reward and Punishment in Chronicles: The Theology of Immediate Retribution’, WTJ 46 (1984), pp. 164-72 (165 n. 2). (Note: On these matters, see esp. Chapter 8). It is well-known that the Chronicler understood the principle of the correspondence between actions and effects at the individual level (i.e., individual actions lead to individual rewards or punishments depending on the nature of the action). See, e.g., J. Wellhausen, Prolegomena to the History of Israel (Cleveland and New York: Meridian Books, 1961), pp. 203-10; and S. Japhet, The Ideology of the Book of Chronicles and its Place in Biblical Thought (BEATAJ, 9; Frankfurt am Main: P. Lang, 2nd rev. edn, 1997), pp. 162-65. 13. See Japhet, Ideology, pp. 191-98. 14. It is worth noting that there is no evidentiary independent basis for the validity of the mentioned premise. Not only that this premise is necessary for the rejection of the ‘plain’ interpretation of 1 Chron. 21.14, which by itself would contradict the premise, but also there are other texts in Chronicles that contradict it, as shown in this article. This is not to deny, of course, that the Chronicler pointed to numerous ‘historical’ events that were ‘governed’ by mentioned coherence between actions and effects. See below, and cf. 2.1. 15. It leads to YHWH’s designation of the threshold of Ornan as the place for YHWH’s altar and Temple. See, e.g., Braun, 1 Chronicles, p. 218; Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles, pp. 150-51. 16. On 2 Chron. 36.20-21, see M. Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation in Ancient Israel (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1988), pp. 480-81; on the importance of the fulfilling of prophecies in Chroniclers, see Y. Kaufmann, The History of the Israelite Religion (4 vols.; Jerusalem: Mosad Bialik, 1936–37, 1955–56; Hebrew), IV, p. 459. 17. See A. Rofé, The Prophetical Stories (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 1988), pp. 197213, esp. 205. 18. For the syllogistic logic used in the following discussion, see, e.g., H. Kahane, Logic and Philosophy (Belmont: Wadsworth, 1978), pp. 191-96. 19. See, e.g., Zeph. 1.12; Pss. 10.4, 11, 13; 14.1 = 53.2; Mal. 2.17. 20. A ‘sense of proportion’ (some would say of ‘realism’) is also a part and parcel of the Chronicler’s teaching. See Chapter 8. 21. For the role of repentance in the general concept of the coherence between action and effect maintained by the Chronicler see, e.g., Japhet, Ideology, pp. 176-91; H.G.M. Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles, pp. 31-33; Braun, 1 Chronicles, pp. xxxvii-xl. 22. The Edomite (reading Edomite instead of Aramean; see, e.g., G.H. Jones, 1 and 2 Kings [NCB; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1984], pp. 535-36) actions mentioned in 2 Kgs 16.6 were probably restricted to Elath. For the importance of Elath, see J.R. Bartlett, Edom and the Edomites (JSOTSup, 77; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1989), pp. 127-28; see also p. 40. 23. The list of cities mentioned in 2 Chron. 28.18 fits better the geographical extent of the Persian province of Yehud than monarchic Judah in the days of Ahaz, for at least Aijalon, and especially Gimzo were probably not within the historical realm of Ahaz’s kingdom. A thorough study of the list stands beyond the scope of this paper. For a


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different position concerning the historicity of the account, see R.W. Doermann, ‘Archaeology and Biblical Interpretation: Tell el Hesi’, in L.G. Perdue, L.E. Tombs and G.L. Johnson (eds.), Archaeology and Biblical Interpretation: Essays in Memory of D.G. Rose (Atlanta:, John Knox Press, 1987), pp. 129-46. 24. Cf. the different approach in 2 Kgs 16.9 25. Significantly, the reference to the fall of Damascus in 2 Kgs 16.9 is omitted in the Chronicler’s account of Ahaz’s days. 26. The account of Ahaz’s reign in 2 Kings 16 contains no reference to these actions. 27. For a similar denial of royal burial honors see 2 Chron. 21.20 and cf. 2 Kgs 8.24, where the king was Jehoram of Judah; 2 Chron. 22.9 (cf. 2 Kgs 9.28) which refers to Ahaziah of Judah; and 2 Chron. 24.25, which refers to Jehoash of Judah. That the denial of royal honors occurs in concurrence with divine judgment was noted by Wellhausen (Prolegomena, p. 205), among others. 28. Significantly, the text in 2 Kings fails to mention either that Ahaz closed the Jerusalem temple or that Hezekiah opened its doors and re-established the cult. 29. According to 2 Chron. 30.14; 31.1 the people (including northern Israelites, see below) destroyed the illegitimate cultic centers in Jerusalem, Judah, Benjamin, Ephraim and Manasseh. For a different report, see 2 Kgs 18.4. 30. Hezekiah’s image in 2 Chronicles is to some extent parallel to Solomon’s image (see n. 6). Significantly, this parallelism is possible only because of the deeds ascribed to Ahaz. On the image of Solomon in Chronicles see R.K. Duke, The Persuasive Appeal of the Chronicler: A Rhetorical Analysis (BLS, 25; JSOTSup, 88; Sheffield: Almond Press, 1990), pp. 63-66. For Solomon/Hezekiah see Williamson, Israel, pp. 119-25; idem, 1 and 2 Chronicles, pp. 350-51, passim, cf. M.A. Throntveit, ‘Hezekiah in the Books of Chronicles’, SBLSP 27 (1988), pp. 302-11; and see recently, idem, ‘Relationship of Hezekiah to David and Solomon’. 31. Significantly, there is no description of Ahaz’s emotions in Chronicles. Of course, by presenting ‘historical’ cases in which sin was not rooted in emotions, the Chronicler does not attempt to rule emotions out as a possible source for sinning. In fact, the Chronicler taught his/her audience that there were ‘historical’ cases in which emotions drove even righteous people away from YHWH’s ways (e.g., 2 Chron. 26.16; 32.25). This is another case of a main rule in the Chronicler’s exposition: whenever this writer ‘documents’ fulfillments of a certain principle/feature in history, he/she does not claim that alternative principles/features may not be fulfilled (cf. section 2.1, and n. 43). Moreover, to make the point ‘fool-proof’, the Chronicler tends to communicate the intended proper perspective by contrasting the messages of different accounts. E.g., while the Chronicler described Ahaz as a ‘logical’ thinker, this writer explicitly pointed out that kings may behave illogically (see 2 Chron. 25.14-15). 32. On the meaning of ‫( דרשׁ‬i.e., ‘seek’) in 1 Chron. 28.9, see J.G. McConville, ‘1 Chronicles 28.9: YAHWEH “Seeks Out” Solomon’, JTS 37 (1986), pp. 105-108. The analysis offered in Section 2.1 shows that this relation on the one hand points to an image of a ‘predictable’ God but on the other hand does not turn into a ‘mechanical’ divine rule for governing the world that devoids God of God’s freedom. 33. According to the principle of coherence between actions and effects that characterizes the Chronicler’s thought (i.e., the so-called principle of individual

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retribution). See, e.g., Japhet, Ideology, pp. 162-65; Dillard, 2 Chronicles, pp. 76-81. See Section 2.1. 34. 2 Macc. 12.40 represents a comparable case. 35. It is worth noting that the king, however, was not killed in battle. Premature death is a kind of divine punishment (e.g., 1 Chron. 2.3; 10.14), but it is not the only punishment available to God: Rehoboam was punished with war (2 Chron. 12.1-5), Asa with war and later with illness (2 Chron. 16.9, 12), and Manasseh was taken captive (2 Chron. 33.9-11). Cf. Wellhausen’s outline of the Chronicler’s history of the monarchic period (Wellhausen, Prolegomena, pp. 203-207). Obviously, had God ‘executed’ all the sinners, or even only the worse among them, repentance would have been preempted, or at least severely restricted. According to the Chronicler, history illustrates both principles: (a) premature death occurs because of the sins of the deceased and it cannot be otherwise in a system based on personal retribution in this world, and (b) the possibility of repentance exists for all including the worse sinners. Some of them, like Manasseh (2 Chron. 33.12-16), turn from sin, amend their lives, and are blessed by God; others, like Ahaz, keep rejecting God’s ways. 36. For the controversy about the real meaning of the title ‫ בן המלך‬in the monarchic period, see A. Lemaire, ‘Note sur le titre “BN HMLK” dans l’ancien Israel’, Semitica 29 (1979), pp. 59-65 and the bibliography mentioned there. Because of its contextual meaning, ‫ בן המלך‬2 Chron. 28.7 cannot be understood as pointing to a lowrank officer. 37. The title ‫ נגיד בית האלהים‬occurs in Neh. 11.11 (//1 Chron. 9.11); 2 Chron. 31.13; 35.8. It was a title known in the Second Temple period. It is true that the normal language for the Jerusalem temple in 1–2 Chronicles is ‫ בית יהוה‬or ‫ בית אלהינו‬and not simply ‫( בית‬for ‫ יהוה מקדשׁ‬see 1 Chron. 22.19; 2 Chron. 30.8; for ׁ‫ יהוה היכל‬see 2 Chron. 26.16; 27.2; 29.16) but when there was a slight possibility that the word ‘House’ meaning palace might be mistakenly understood as the Jerusalem temple, the author changed the original ‫ על הבית‬of his/her source (2 Kgs 15.5) to ‫על בית המלך‬ (2 Chron. 26.21). For the proposal that ‘House’ refers to the royal palace, see R. de Vaux, Les institutions de l’Ancient Testament (2 vols.; Paris: Cerf, 1961), I, p. 199. 38. Significantly, Uriah, the priest, is not mentioned; cf. 2 Kgs 16.10-16. 39. E.g., 1 Chron. 15.25 (cf. 2 Sam. 6.12); 2 Chron. 12.5-6; 20.14-15, 21; 21.9 (cf. 2 Kgs 8.21); 22.8-9 (cf. 2 Kgs 9.27); 30.2-5; 32.3; 33.10-11. See, e.g., Japhet, Ideology, pp. 416-28, and Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation, pp. 157-59. Following a remark made by Fishbane, it is worth noting that sacerdotal figures are not explicitly mentioned, even when the decisions to be made refer to cultic issues, as in 2 Chron. 30.2-5 (cf. Japhet, Ideology, p. 441). 40. Such an approach is similar to that of dtr-N. 41. Of course, this description does not imply that there is no room for a few righteous people in a society of the first type. In fact, according to the Chronicler’s principle of ‘warning before punishment’ (see E. Bickerman, From Ezra to the Last of the Maccabees: Foundations of Postbiblical Judaism [New York: Schocken Books, 1962], p. 26, and especially Japhet, Ideology, pp. 176-91), there is a need of God-fearing individuals who admonish the king, the elite and the people, and warn them that their ways lead to divine judgment, then (and in many cases only then) if they consciously make the wrong choice they are punished (e.g., 2 Chron. 24.19-25). Of course, if the


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king, his elite and the people repent, then the described society turns into one of the second type (e.g., 2 Chron. 12.5-14). 42. As expected, the Chronicler demonstrates that also this feature, though widely supported by ‘history’, is not always attested. In 2 Chron. 16.10, the Chronicler points to righteous people who do stand against a wrongdoing king and his ‘influence’. The Chronicler may well be considered a ‘hammering’ teacher but hardly a dogmatic thinker. (Note: Later I came to understand that the book of Chronicles as a whole conveys its theology through sets of reports that if read separately would have communicated positions that are on the surface at odds. Chronicles advances a balanced both-and [as opposed to either-or] theology shaped around multiple positions and reports informing each other.) 43. See n. 28. 44. Significantly, the opposite situation, namely that a ‘good king’ died and was buried without the expected honors because the elite and the people changed their heart and decided to forsake YHWH, is not attested in Chronicles. 45. Statement (a) is qualified by the Chronicler through a series of texts that parallel the bamot notes in Kings. According to some of these texts, even during the reign of pious kings, the people did not worship God as they were supposed to. See 2 Chron. 20.32-33 (cf. 1 Kgs 22.43-44) and 2 Chron. 27.2 (cf. 2 Kgs 14.34-35); but note that 2 Chron. 25.2 (cf. 2 Kgs 14.3-4) and 2 Chron. 26.4 (cf. 2 Kgs 15.3-4) differ. That the conveyed meaning of Chronicles is that the Davidic king is human but certainly not a ‘regular’ human stands in certain tension with Japhet, Ideology, p. 428. 46. Based on 40-50 inhabitants per dunam. See, M. Broshi, ‘La population de l’ancienne Jerusalem’, RB 82 (1975), pp. 5-14. For the population of Judah and Jerusalem during the monarchic period, see Y. Shilo, ‘The Population of Iron Age Palestine in the Light of a Sample Analysis of Urban Plans, Areas, and Population Density’, BASOR 239 (1980), pp. 25-35, esp. 30-33. (Note: Even these estimates were eventually shown to be too ‘generous’. For newer and better estimates see C.E. Carter, The Emergence of Yehud in the Persian Period: A Social and Demographic Study [JSOTSup, 294; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1999], and O. Lipschits, ‘Demographic Changes in Judah between the Seventh and the Fifth Centuries B.C.E.’, in O. Lipschits and J. Blenkinsopp [eds.], Judah and the Judeans in the Neo-Babylonian Period [Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2003], pp. 323-76.) One can also compare these figures with the little more than 20,000 soldiers in Hadadezer’s army at Karkar. Ahab’s army at Karkar was even less numerous. The large Egyptian armies that fought against the Persian empire in the fourth century had ‘only’ about 100,000 soldiers (see K.A. Kitchen, The Third Intermediate Period in Egypt [Warminster: Aris & Phillips Ltd, 1973], p. 295 n. 289). 47. There have been many attempts to deny the colossal magnitude of these numbers by understanding the MT ‫ ֶא ֶלף‬as a ‘military unit’, an ‘officer’, or a ‘professional, fully-armed soldier’. E.g., J.W. Wenham, ‘Large Numbers in the Old Testament’, TynB 18 (1967), pp. 19-53. Significantly, none of the versions understood ‫ ֶא ֶלף‬in such a way, nor are there clear biblical instances which require this meaning, unless one assumes that the figures given in a biblical text must mirror historical reality. On the other hand, there are several texts in which at the very least in their present form, ‫ ֶא ֶלף‬can only

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mean ‘thousand’ (e.g., Num. 26.5-51; 31.25-46; Jer. 52.28-29), as simple mathematics demonstrates. As to the question of how the Chronicler and his/her audience understood the term ‫ ֶא ֶלף‬, it is unreasonable to reject an attested meaning (especially since at least some of the evidence comes from post-monarchic texts) in favor of an unattested one. 48. Of course, this feature is attested in other biblical books. The purpose of the present discussion is, however, restricted to the communicative purpose of these numbers in the book of Chronicles. 49. The image of an ‘heroic’ past, in which people were stronger, or lived longer or the like than regular people is a common-place in many cultures. 50. Cf. Thucydides (The Peloponnesian War 1.22): ‘but whoever shall wish to have a clear view both of the events which have happened and of those which will some day, in all human probability, happen again in the same or a similar way – for these to adjudge my history profitable will be enough for me. And, indeed, it has been composed, not as a prize-essay to be heard for the moment, but as a possession for all time’ (trans. C.F. Smith; Thucydides [LCL; 4 vols.; Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1928]). Of course, as Wiedemann has clearly expressed, Thucydides does not imply ‘that he believes that history is pre-determined or “cyclical”, with identical events (such as wars) inevitably repeated at regular intervals. It is nature (Gk. physis) which remains the same, and consequently human beings react to events in a broadly similar ways’ (T. Wiedemann, Thucydides. The Peloponnesian War. Book I–Book II, ch. 65 [Bristol: Bristol Classical Press, 1985], p. 21). Insofar as the Chronicler is concerned, what remains the same is YHWH’s rules for governing the world and the human potential to choose between right and wrong. Hence, because of the principle of continuity, the account of past events is a profitable endeavor from which one can learn about YHWH’s rules and their implementation in the world, human nature and their inherent choices, the most likely results of human actions, and accordingly, what a sound human choice is. Needless to say, it is reasonable to assume that the more one stresses the element of consistency in both the divine and the human behavior through the ages, the less weight one tends to put on the kind of eschatological expectations that imply an abrupt change in the ‘observed’ or real divine behavior and in the human condition. Cf. Japhet, Ideology, pp. 501-502. To be sure, this position is not incompatible with the Chronicler’s hope of a Davidic restoration; rather it brings a sense of proportion to the actual weight of such a hope in the Chronicler’s communal teaching. 51. The priority that the Chronicler gave to continuity through history is coherent with his/her understanding of the ‘book of the Torah’, as given to Moses and binding (through interpretation) since then (see 2 Chron. 32.14; cf. J.R. Shaver, Torah and the Chronicler’s History Work [BJS, 196; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1989], pp. 77-128). Even crucial historical events that are time – and place – dependent, such as the establishment of the temple, are interpreted in a way that de-emphasizes the break in continuity. For instance, the establishment of the temple is the implementation of the principle of centralization of the cult which was considered to be binding throughout Israelite history (see, e.g., Kaufmann, History, IV, pp. 471-73). For another illustration of this tendency, see n. 73. 52. See 2 Chron. 13.4-9; 25.6-7, 13; not to mention how the Chronicler described the fate of those defeated in war (see, e.g., 2 Chron. 14.11-14; 20.22-25; 25.11-12).


239

53. Cf. 2 Chron. 30.18; 31.1. Cf. T. Willi, Die Chronik als Auslegung (FRLANT, 106; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1972), pp. 190-93, 221-22. The literary emphasis on YHWH, on the relation between YHWH and the northern Israelites (see the expressions ‘YHWH, the God of your fathers’ and ‘YHWH, your God’), and on the ‘brotherhood’ between Israelites and Judahites, in vv. 9-11 is undeniable. 54. Another example is, of course, the reference to Elijah. The Chronicler mentions only his letter to (or better against) Jehoram, king of Judah (2 Chron. 21.12-20); however, even through this letter the Chronicler clearly conveys the idea that Elijah strongly condemned the policies of the kings of Israel (see v. 12). See below. 55. Their role is similar to that of the prophets in 2 Kgs 17.13-14; 21.8-9 (dtr-N) and Zech. 1.4. 56. See Japhet, Ideology, esp. pp. 184-91. 57. Cf. R.L. Braun, ‘A Reconsideration of the Chronicler’s Attitude towards the North’, JBL 96 (1977), pp. 59-62. Significantly, Chronicles contains no ‘parallel’ account to 2 Kgs 17.24-34. Of course, if both are considered to be Israel, then the receiving community (i.e., ‘contemporary’ Israel) may identify with any of these groups, or with both at the same time, but on a different level. In the pericope discussed here the audience is asked to identify itself with pious northern Israelites. 58. For faithful Israelites living in Judah, see 2 Chron. 11.16. 59. Most of these reported events (2 Chron. 30.1, 10-11, 18-20; 31.1) are attributed to the first year of Hezekiah. Here, as in other places, the Chronicler’s account stands at odds with the deuteronomistic account. The text in 2 Chron. 30.1, 10-11, 18-20; 31.1 clearly presupposes the non-existence of the kingdom of Israel at that time, but according to the deuteronomistic history (see 2 Kgs 17.1-6 [cf. 2 Kgs 16.2]; 18.1, 9–12) king Hosea reigned over Israel during the first year of Hezekiah, and at least until Hezekiah’s fourth year. Significantly, while the Chronicler did not include any of these accounts from 2 Kings in his/her historiographical work, he/she included positive references to northern Israelites in 2 Chron. 30.1, 10-11, 18-20; 31.1; 34.9, none of which is taken from the ‘parallel’ account in Kings. It is worth noting that the role of the prophet who calls the (northern) Israelites to return to YHWH and to YHWH’s ways in 2 Chron. 30 is fulfilled by Hezekiah, king of Judah (cf. the similar role of Abijah in 2 Chron. 13.4-12). According to Chronicles, Davidic kings occasionally fulfil the role of the prophet (see Y. Amit, ‘The Role of Prophecy and the Prophets in the Teaching of Chronicles’, Beth Mikra 28 [1982/3], pp. 113-33, esp. 121-22; Hebrew). No northern Israelite king ever fulfilled this role; by accepting the crown they disqualified themselves. 60. Cf. 2 Chron. 11.13-16; 13.5-7 and see discussion above. There is no positive reference to (northern) Israelites who accept the rule of the non-Davidic king. Saul, the only king whose reign was established before the election of the House of David, was potentially a legitimate king (see 1 Chron. 10.14), but he did not seek YHWH. Concerning the figure of Saul in Chronicles, see Japhet, Ideology, pp. 405-11. It is worth noting that immediately after Saul – the bad king – died, the people of Israel, represented by the warriors of Jabesh-gilead, knew how to behave according to God’s will, and did accordingly. See Section 3.2. 61. The centrality of this-world righteous behavior (i.e., seeking YHWH and behaving accordingly), the here and now, is clearly expressed by the persistent impressing of

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the principle of correspondence between actions and effects upon the addressed community. Hopes for a distant better future (if they are expressed) do not affect the Chronicler’s thought and teaching concerning the individual responsibility of each member of the community to behave according to YHWH’s will in the present, under the present conditions. 62. This conclusion does not support the idea that the main purpose of the Chronicler was to support the claims of a contemporaneous Davidic scion (see, for instance, D.N. Freedman, ‘The Chronicler’s Purpose’, CBQ 23 [1961], pp. 436-42; S. McKenzie, The Chronicler’s Use of the Deuteronomistic History [HSM, 33; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1985], pp. 25-26). In all fairness to these scholars, one must mention that when they refer to the ‘Chronicler’, they do not intend the author (or authors) of the canonical Book of Chronicles. But in any case, they do attribute to him/her 2 Chronicles 28. Their position is beset by several other problems; see, e.g., Williamson, 1–2 Chronicles, pp. 5-17. 63. Cf. this conclusion with the results of the analysis offered in Section 5.6. 64. This assumes with Williamson (1–2 Chronicles, p. 16) and others, that the fourth century CE (and perhaps middle-fourth century) is the most probable date for the composition of 1–2 Chronicles. 65. See Excursus. 66. Kaufmann, History, II, pp. 458-59) maintains that three main elections characterize the Chronicler’s work, namely that of the House of David, that of the Jerusalem and its temple, and that of the tribe of Levi. The verb ‫ בחר‬in Chronicles occurs in texts that are not paralleled in the deuteronomistic history; in relation to the Levites in 1 Chron. 15.2; 2 Chron. 29.11 (perhaps the latter refers to the Levites and to the priests; see, e.g., Williamson, 1–2 Chronicles, p. 354 and Dillard, 2 Chronicles, p. 233), to David in 1 Chron. 28.5, and to the temple (or the place of the temple) in 2 Chron. 7.12, 16. Cf. Von Rad, Old Testament Theology (ed. M.G. Stalker; 2 vols.; New York: Harper, 1967), I, p. 353. 67. Of course, according to the Chronicler, it is impossible to establish a legitimate temple elsewhere because of the election of Jerusalem. 68. The many references to the temple and the worship there (many of them without parallel in the deuteronomistic history) point to the centrality of the temple and its worship in the Chronicler’s teaching. Of course, the Chronicler thought and communicated to the community that the cult should be performed as it ‘ought to be’ (i.e., as ordained by Moses and David; see n. 69). But he/she cannot be considered a formalist. The Chronicler, e.g., claimed that when YHWH weighted the people’s setting the heart to seek God against their cultic transgressions, YHWH gave clear priority to the former (2 Chron. 30.18-20). On this issue, see, e.g., Williamson, 1–2 Chronicles, pp. 30-31. 69. See S.J. de Vries, ‘Moses and David as Cult Founders in Chronicles’, JBL 107 (1988), pp. 619-39. 70. Kaufmann, History, II, pp. 458-59. 71. One may interpret the ‘practical’ meaning (or better, original significance) of this position as a warning to any potential group in Israel which may think of establishing an alternative temple. The Samaritan temple at Mt Gerizim was most likely built in the Hellenistic period, and therefore it does not precede the composition of 1–2 Chronicles (see J.D. Purvis, ‘The Samaritans and Judaism’, in R.A.


241

Kraft and G.W.E. Nickelsburg [eds.], Early Judaism and its Modern Interpreters [Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1986], pp. 81-98, and the bibliography mentioned there). But given the existence of a long history of independent (i.e., non-Jerusalemite) leadership in Samaria, one cannot rule out the possibility of religious controversy in this respect. Alternatively, one may understand the ‘practical’ message as a call to northern Israelites contemporaneous with the Chronicler (i.e., the population of Samaria but not the ‘Samaritans’ who belong to a later period) to rally round the Jerusalemite temple, i.e., to repeat what many of their ancestors did in the days of Hezekiah (2 Chronicles 30). See R.L. Braun, ‘The Message of Chronicles: Rally “Round the Temple”’, CTM 42 (1971), pp. 502-14. This understanding does justice to the Chronicler’s ‘hammering’ of the point that northern Israelites are part and parcel of Israel, but does not take into account that the audience of the Chronicler were Yehudeans, and most likely Jerusalemites, not the people of Samaria. This being the case, the ‘practical’ message may be a call to this audience not to reject their brothers and sisters from the North, and at the same time to stand firm on clear limits to what may be considered the cult worthy of an Israelite who seeks God. Needless to say, the analysis offered in this paper stands at odds with the position that the Chronicler’s work is a dispute against the Samaritans and an apology for the Jerusalemite community (e.g., W. Rudolph, Chronikbücher, p. IX) 72. It worth noting that the Chronicler de-emphasized the destruction and the significance of the destruction of Jerusalem and the temple vis à vis the source in Kings. (See Japhet, Ideology, pp. 369-70.) This feature is consistent with the tendency to expand the limits of ‘historical’ continuity that characterizes Chronicles. See n. 52. 73. For a detailed study of these functions, see Amit, ‘Role of Prophecy’. 74. See Amit, ‘Role of Prophecy’, esp. pp. 121-22. 75. Cf. Isa. 58.7 and Ezek. 18.5-9 (esp. v. 7). To some extent the actions of the northern Israelites are also comparable to those attributed to God in Deut. 29.4 and Ps. 146.7-8. Most likely, the Chronicler was aware of these passages and of the image of God that they suggest. It is conceivable, therefore, that the Chronicler intentionally described the actions of the northern Israelites in such a way that suggests human ‘imitation’ of divine behavior. Mason (Preaching the Tradition, pp. 93-95) relates the freeing of the captives to their being ‘kinsmen’ of the Israelites, and accordingly, to Lev. 25.44-46 and Neh. 5.5. But he also argues, that ‘it is not nationality which matter (in this passage), but obedient response to God’s law and God’s words through his prophets’ (p. 95). This being the case, the issue is what the prophet demands from the people, i.e., to free the captive, to feed the hungry, to water the thirsty and to clothe the naked. 76. Of course, by revealing these rules, the Chronicler is developing and communicating to his/her audience a certain image of God, and of God’s attributes, e.g., that God is characterized as one who seeks those who seek God (1 Chron. 28.9; see McConville, ‘1 Chronicles 28.9’). 77. That the Chronicler accepted as authoritative an interpreted Pentateuch is the most likely conclusion of (a) the impossibility of implementing the ‘laws’ of the Pentateuch (or most of them) without interpreting them, and (b) explicit references in Chronicles to the text of the book of the Torah that are inconsistent with any possible literal quotation from known Pentateuchal texts, but are understandable in terms of

242


exegesis of these texts. See, e.g., Japhet, Ideology, pp. 239-42, Dillard, 2 Chronicles, pp. 242-44, and for a comprehensive discussion on ‘legal exegesis with verbatim, paraphrastic, or pseudo-citations in historical sources’ (including Chronicles) see Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation, pp. 107-62. For an alternative position, namely that claiming that the Chronicler’s book of the Torah differed substantially from the present Pentateuch, see, e.g., Rudolph, Chronikbücher, p. xv; and Shaver, Torah; and cf. C. Houtman, ‘Ezra and the Law’, OTS 21 (1981), pp. 91-115. I argued against this position elsewhere (‘Review of J.R. Shaver, Torah and the Chronicler’s History Work’, JBL 110 [1991], pp. 718-20). 78. Cf. T. Willi, ‘Thora in den biblishchen Chronikbüchern’, Judaica 36 (1980), pp. 102-105, 148-51. 79. According to von Rad (Old Testament Theology, I, p. 100) ‘in the post-exilic Levirate [sic; the original German correctly reads ‘Levitentum’], from whom of course the Chronicler’s history is derived, there must have been circles which regarded themselves as heirs and successors of the prophets’. Significantly, the Chronicler considered writing history a prophetic function (see, e.g., 2 Chron. 9.29; 12.15, 20, 34; 26.22; and Amit, ‘Role of Prophecy’, esp. pp. 122-23). 80. The same holds true for other biblical books, including those that constitute the deuteronomistic history. It is worth noting that, to a certain extent, the difference between a ‘classical Western’ essayist tradition and a Hebrew non-essayist tradition still can be observed in modern Hebrew literature. See M. Zellermayer, ‘Intensifiers in Hebrew and in English’, Journal of Pragmatics 15 (1991), pp. 43-58. 81. See also Japhet, Ideology, pp. 396-411. 82. See E.W. Conrad, ‘The Community as King in Second Isaiah’, in J.T. Butler, E.W. Conrad, and B.C. Ollenburger (eds.), Understanding the Word: Essays in Honor of B.W. Anderson (JSOTSup, 37; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1985), pp. 99-111. 83. See R.A. Freund, ‘From Kings to Archons: Jewish Political Ethics and Kingship Passages in the LXX’, SJOT 2 (1990), pp. 58-72. 84. Cf. Bickerman, From Ezra, pp. 3-31; Mason, Preaching the Tradition, p. 118. My thanks are due to Francis Landy, M. Patrick Graham and Maxine Hancock for their careful readings of a draft of this chapter in its previous incarnation, and to John H. Hayes and J. Maxwell Miller for their comments on even earlier drafts of this essay.

Chapter 12 THE AUTHORITY OF 1–2 CHRONICLES IN THE LATE SECOND TEMPLE PERIOD* 1. Introduction 1

1–2 Chronicles provides an alternative account of Israelite/Judean history that basically parallels the account in 1 Samuel–2 Kings (deuteronomistic history),2 yet it differs from deuteronomistic history not only about specific details but also in its theological and historiographical approach. Thus, from the fourth century BCE (the probable date of Chronicles),3 two different and often conflicting accounts of the monarchic period were available. What did this situation mean? In many societies, the image of a distant historical past functions as a means of self-understanding. This image (‘remembrances’ + the inferred historical ‘laws’) provides a conceptual framework for the understanding of contemporary reality, making this reality meaningful to the individual as well as to society as a whole. Since the historical image as pattern transforms unique situations into illustrations of an ongoing historical process, the ‘laws’ governing this historical process and past patterns of response turn out to be applicable to the present situation. The ‘knowledge’ thus gained is dependent not only on specific historical images but also on the conceptual world of the interpreter. Consequently, a wide range of lessons may be derived from similar historical images. Israel often turned to its image of the past in order to understand present situations (see, for instance, the interpreted summaries of the Israelite past in Ezekiel 20; Psalm 106; Nehemiah 9; Sirach 44–50; Jdt. 5.521; CD 3; Wis. 10; 1 Macc. 2.51-61; 3 Macc. 6.2-8; 4 Macc. 18.9-19; Acts 7.2-53; Hebrews 11). Although this list is not exhaustive, it points to a significant feature of the historical self-image of Israel. The main referential history consisted in: (a) interpreted accounts of Genesis–Joshua (including the narratives about the patriarchs, the deliverance from Egypt, the Sinai events, the conquest of the land, etc.); (b) reports about prophets and sages; and (c) the monarchic history as an example of the basic theological principle that if Israel forsakes God, Israel will fail.

244


Concerning point (c) one may ask, which of the two histories provided the image of the monarchic past in the late Second Temple period? And if both contributed to this image, how did people cope with their contradictions? Considering the diversity that characterized the period, can we expect one answer? From a methodological point of view, this paper is based on the assumption that if a distinctive pattern of significance for Chronicles is found in the literature of the late Second Temple period, or in some of its different corpora, then this pattern reflects the status of 1–2 Chronicles in the group defined as the enlarged ‘audience’ of this literature or of a specific corpus of writings. Accordingly, in the following pages we will survey passages in the literature of the late Second Temple period that are probably dependent on the text of Chronicles, and especially on its account of the monarchic period. Moreover, we will compare them with ‘parallel’ accounts from deuteronomistic history and other ‘biblical’4 and ‘non-biblical’ accounts in order to consider questions of univocal dependency and of congruency.5 2. 1–2 Chronicles in the Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha 1. Tobit 6 Tobit 1.2 reflects in a blurred form 2 Kgs 17.3ff.,18.9ff., and probably 2 Kgs 15.29 (since these verses describe the history of the Northern Kingdom, none of them have parallels in 2 Chronicles). According to Tob. 1.21ª: ‘…two of Sennacherib’s sons killed him, and they fled to the mountains of Ararat. Then Esarhaddon his son reigned in his place’ (RSV). The report in 2 Kgs 19.37 (//Isa. 37.38) reads as follows: ‘…his sons Adrammelech and Sarezer struck him down with the sword. They fled to the land of Ararat, and his son Esarhaddon succeeded him as a king’ (NJPSV). Significantly, the ‘parallel’ report in Chronicles (2 Chron. 32.21) reads differently: ‘…some of his own offspring struck him down by the sword’ (NJPSV). Also it is worth noting that Esarhaddon is not mentioned at all in the entire books of Chronicles, and the flight to Ararat mentioned in 2 Kgs 19.37 (//Isa. 37.38) is absent from all the other reports of the episode, either biblical or non-biblical (e.g., the Nabonidus stele, Berossus’ account).7 Thus, Tob. 1.21a is dependent on 2 Kgs 19.37 (//Isa. 37.38) but not on 2 Chron. 32.21. The potential reference to Manasseh in Tob. 14.10 does not occur in Codex Sinaiticus, which is often considered ‘the most original form of the text’.8 It is commonly considered a scribal error, and likely not

12. The Authority of 1–2 Chronicles

245

a reference to king Manasseh to begin with,9 and in any case is a late addition to the text. Thus, Tob. 14.10 does not indicate utilization of Chronicles. 2. The Wisdom of Ben Sira According to scholarly consensus Chronicles antedates Ecclesiasticus.10 Thus, we may assume that Chronicles was available to Ben Sira at the time he wrote ‘The Praise of the Fathers’ (Sir. 44.1–50.24).11 The following points clearly support the idea that ‘The Praise of the Fathers’ is dependent on deuteronomistic history: (1) The sin of Solomon, its cause, and its consequences are mentioned in Sir. 47.19-21. The biblical basis for this account is 1 Kings 11. Significantly, according to the account of Solomon’s deeds in 2 Chron. 1.1–11.43, Solomon committed no sin. (2) Sirach 48.1-14 is an encomium on Elijah and Elisha. The Elijah– Elisha stories in 1–2 Kings, and Mal. 3.23-24 (see Sir. 48.10), are the biblical basis of this eulogy. Elisha is not mentioned at all in Chronicles and Elijah only once (2 Chron. 21.12). This unique mention of Elijah in 2 Chronicles receives no attention in Ben Sira. (3) Sirach 48.17-22 is an encomium on Hezekiah. However, it fails to refer to the Hezekian reform, which is the main theme in Chronicles’ account of Hezekiah’s reign.12 This omission precludes the possibility that Ben Sira’s image of Hezekiah was shaped by 1–2 Chronicles. Moreover, a comparative analysis of the report concerning the Assyrian invasion shows that the short version in Sir. 48.18-21 is an independent abridged version based on 2 Kgs 18.13–19.37 (//Isa. 36.1–37.38), and not a reworked form of the already abridged version that occurs in 2 Chron. 32.9-22.13 The unqualified praise of David, Hezekiah and Josiah in Sir. 49.4, and the harsh judgment of all the other kings are understandable on the basis of deuteronomistic history (see 2 Kgs 18.5; 23.25). Significantly, these two verses have no parallel in Chronicles. In fact, Chronicles finds no blame in other kings (e.g., Abijah/m; see 2 Chron. 13.1-23, cf. 1 Kgs 15.1-8). To conclude: (a) the reconstruction of the Israelite/Judean history on which the ‘Praise of the Fathers’ was based is the one found in the deuteronomistic history. (b) Ben Sira’s image of the past was not shaped by Chronicles. It is noteworthy that this conclusion does not rule out the use of Chronicles as a supplementary source-book. Indeed, there are two notes in Ben Sira that deserve further attention.

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According to Sir. 47.9-10, the organization of the cultic worship was credited to David: ‘He (David) placed singers before the altar, to make sweet melody with their voices’ (RSV). The Hebrew version of Sir. 47.9, from the Cairo Geniza14 reads: ‫נגינות שיר ל]פני מ[זבח וקול ח]מזמור נ[בלים תיקן‬.15 Although this is not a quotation from Chronicles, it is noteworthy that according to 1 Chronicles 25, David and the officers of his army set apart certain families who were to sing and to play musical instruments before God, in cultic worship.16 Since this note in Chronicles has no parallel in 2 Samuel, it has been proposed that Sir. 47.9 is dependent on 1 Chronicles 25, or at least that it refers to 1 Chronicles 25.17 However, notices crediting David with this act occur also in Ezra 3.10 and in Neh. 12.24. Moreover, these passages probably point to the existence of a widespread tradition concerning the role of David in the organization of cultic worship (see 11QPsªDavComp,18 which cannot be considered an influence from 1 Chronicles 15).19 Thus, no conclusive data pointing to an unequivocal relationship between Chronicles and Sir. 47.9 can be discerned. According to Sir. 48.17 ‘Hezekiah fortified his city’ (RSV). This short notice may be considered a reference to 2 Chron. 32.5 (without parallel in 2 Kings).20 However, this information can also be deduced from Isa. 22.911.21 Moreover, Sir. 48.17a reads: ‫יחזקיהו חזק עירו בהטות אל תובה מים‬ (according to the Hebrew text of Cairo Geniza).22 The reference to the waterworks is obviously closer to ‫ ויבא את המים העירה‬in 2 Kgs 20.20 (without parallel in 2 Chronicles 32) than ‫והוא יחזקיהו סתם את מוצא מימי גיחון‬ ‫( העליון ויישרם למטה מערבה לעיר דויד‬2 Chron. 32.30) or to the notice in 2 Chron. 32.4-5 (both without parallel in 2 Kings). 3. 1 Esdras 23 This book is basically a compilation of 2 Chronicles 35–36, Ezra 1–10, and Nehemiah 8, but contains also some supplementary material not found in them.24 There is no doubt that 1 Esd. 1.1–2.5a parallels 2 Chron. 35.1– 36.23,25 except for 1 Esd. 1.23-24. 1 Esdras does not parallel deuteronomistic history (cf. 2 Kings 23) nor include any supplementary material that may be traced to this history.26 The few occasions in which the text contains readings slightly divergent from the parallel account in 1–2 Chronicles are not due to the influence of deuteronomistic history.27 Significantly, 1 Esdras follows Chronicles only in the parallel account mentioned above. For example, 1 Esd. 4.45 contradicts 2 Chron. 36.17-19 (and also deuteronomistic history) and 1 Esd. 1.23-34 cannot be reconciled with the doctrine of divine retribution of 1–2 Chronicles.28


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4. The Testament (or Assumption) of Moses29 The history of monarchic Judah is described in Testament of Moses as follows: …and the two holy tribes shall be established there (but the ten tribes will establish kingdoms for themselves according to their own arrangements). And they will offer sacrifices for twenty years. And seven will surround the place with walls, and I will protect nine, and shall transgress the Lord’s covenant and profane the oath the Lord made with them. And they will sacrifice their sons to foreign gods, and they will set idols in the sanctuary and serve them. And in the Lord’s house they will commit all kinds of abominations and carve representations of every kind of animal (T. Mos. 2.5-9).30

As a whole, this pericope reflects an historical image congruent with the image provided by the deutronomistic history, 1–2 Chronicles, and the books of Jeremiah and Ezekiel. Nevertheless, the report seems to be very specific, and it mentions the number of kings who did certain things. Leaving aside the last ‘four’, a reconstructed reading,31 one may ask: (1) On what grounds, if any, does the text say that seven kings fortified the city (or Judah)? (2) What was the source that informed the author about the the nine kings who have been protected?

The reconstruction of the monarchic period by the deuteronomistic history cannot provide these numbers, but 1–2 Chronicles does provide them, as follows: (a) The seven kings who fortified the city, or Judah, are: 1. Rehoboam (2 Chron. 11.5ff.) 2. Asa (2 Chron. 14.6) 3. Jehoshaphat (2 Chron. 17.12) 4. Uzziah (2 Chron. 26.6, 9)

5. Jotham (2 Chron. 27.3f.) 6. Hezekiah (2 Chron. 32.5) 7. Manasseh (2 Chron. 33.14)

(b) The nine kings who have been protected are: 1. Rehoboam (2 Chron. 12.6ff.) 2. Abijah (2 Chron. 13.4ff.) 3. Asa (2 Chron. 14.8ff) 4. Jehoshaphat (2 Chron. 20.1ff.) 5. Jehoash (2 Chronicles 23)

6. Amaziah (2 Chron. 25.7ff.) 7. Uzziah (2 Chron. 26.5ff.) 8. Hezekiah (2 Chron. 32.21f.) 9. Manasseh (2 Chron. 33.12f.)

Significantly, most of these notes occur only in Chronicles. If these numbers were not arbitrary, one may ask whether the 20 years of correct worship are a ‘typological’ numbers of years or refer to some biblical text. With regard to the second alternative, the number 20 may be understood as a midrashic inference from Chronicles:

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History, Literature and Theology in the Book of Chronicles (1) According to 2 Chron. 8.1 Solomon constructed the temple and his palace in 20 years. (2) Then the king lived another 20 years (2 Chron. 9.30) in which he remained faithful to God (pace 1 Kings 11).

After Solomon’s death, Rehoboam, his son, became king. Shortly after Rehoboam’s kingship was established, he abandoned the Torah (2 Chron. 12.1), and so did all Israel.32 It is not hard to imagine that the author of T. Mos. 2.5-9 may have thought that the people who had abandoned the Torah might have ceased offering (legitimate sacrifices). If they did so, then the offerings probably ceased 20 years after the inauguration of the temple. To conclude, if the numbers given in T. Mos. 2.5-9 are taken seriously, then these verses do not reflect deuteronomistic history, but instead seem to reflect 1–2 Chronicles. 5. The Martyrdom of Isaiah (Ascension of Isaiah, 1.1-2a; 1.7-3.12; 5.1-14)33 This text is the first attested occurrence of the legend concerning the awful death of Isaiah at the hands of Manasseh, ‘the disciple of Beliar’ (Asc. Isa. 1.8; cf. Asc. Isa. 2.4; 3.11; 5.1). Since no biblical narrative accuses Manasseh of the death of Isaiah, nor even mentions the two figures together, one should look for elements in the biblical narrative that may have been the kernel from which this legend was developed. For instance: (1) The picture of Manasseh in 2 Kings (2 Kgs 21.1-17; 24.3; see also Jer. 15.4); (2) The report in 2 Kgs 21.16 (‘Moreover, Manasseh shed very much innocent blood, till he had filled Jerusalem from one end to another’ [RSV]). (3) The fact that superscriptions to the prophetic books do not mention any prophet who prophesied in Manasseh’s days.

These elements could have triggered the legend. But much more difficult to reconcile with the legend is Chronicles’ account of Manasseh (2 Chron. 33.1-20), which reports that the king humbled himself, repented, purified the cult, called his people to repentance, and received divine blessing like the other pious kings of Judah.34 It is noteworthy that the Martyrdom of Isaiah is not only a legend about Isaiah and Manasseh but also an interpretation of the character of ‘apostasy’ in general. According to this interpretation, the worship of nonIsraelite gods (see 2 Kgs 21.2-7) is no less than worship of Satan (Asc. Isa. 2.7). People incurred this sin because Satan/Beliar dwells in their hearts (e.g., Manasseh). Moreover, these events were determined in advance by


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God (see Asc. Isa. 1.7-13), and consequently, nothing can be done in order to prevent them (Asc. Isa. 1.12-13). This interpretation contradicts the message of Chronicles in general, and especially contradicts the contents and message of 2 Chron. 33.10-16. Therefore, even though the author of the Martyrdom may have known Chronicles’ account of the reign of Manasseh,35 his thought was not shaped by this account.36 6. 4 Maccabees In 4 Macc. 3.7-18 an example is given in order to illustrate the expression that ‘reason is not the uprooter of the passions but their antagonist’ (4 Macc. 3.5). The example is David’s response to his action of his three mighty men who brought him water from Beth-Lehem. The story is based on 2 Sam. 23.13-17//1 Chron. 11.15-19. These narratives so closely parallel each other that there is no way to discern which version stands behind 4 Macc. 3.7-18. Moreover, the narrative in 4 Maccabees not only supplements the biblical account with several details or adjusts it to its contextual purpose (e.g., by removing David’s request [2 Sam. 23.15//1 Chron. 11.17]), but also points to the existence of a slightly different version in which the role of the three mighty men was played by two soldiers. Therefore, the story in 4 Maccabees probably reflects neither the text of 2 Samuel nor the text of 1 Chronicles, but a third version.37 7. 4 Ezra (2 Esdras 3–14)38 Among the forefathers who prayed at special occasions in the past (4 Ezra 7.106-110), we find: ‘…and David for the plague, and Solomon for those in the sanctuary, and Elijah for those who received the rain, and for the one who was dead, that he might live, and Hezekiah for the people in the days of Sennacherib, and many others…’ (4 Ezra 7.109-110, Metzger’s translation, Old Testament Pseudepigrapha, I, p. 541). What source does this list reflect? 1. 2. 3. 4.

5.

David’s prayer is mentioned in 2 Sam. 24.17, and in 1 Chron. 21.16f. For Solomon’s prayer see 1 Kgs 8.22f., 30 and 2 Chron. 6.12, 14, 20. Elijah’s prayers are based on 1 Kgs 17.20ff; 18.42ff. There is no parallel account in Chronicles. Hezekiah’s prayer is mentioned in 2 Kgs 19.15ff., 20. According to the account of Sennacherib’s invasion in Chronicles, Hezekiah and Isaiah prayed at that time (2 Chron. 32.20). 2 Kings does not mention Isaiah’s prayer (see 2 Kgs 19.2-7). The list does not contain any reference to those prayers in Chronicles that have no parallel in other biblical accounts.39

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In sum, 4 Ezra reflects the deuteronomistic account of the history. 8. 2 Baruch The interpretation of the ‘apocalypse of the clouds’ (chs. 53–54) in 2 Baruch 55–76 is a review of Israelite history from Adam to the Messianic era. The authority of the interpreter (‘the angel Ramiel, who presides over genuine visions’ (2 Bar. 55.3 – Sparks, Apocryphal Old Testament, p. 875) points to the authoritativeness of the interpretation. Moreover, in this kind of historical review, the veracity of the account of past events supports the veracity of the eventual outcome of the historical process, that is the Messianic era, which is precisely the main message of the entire discourse. Therefore, we should conclude that the historical reconstruction of the past that occurs in these chapters was considered the correct one by the author and his audience. Thus, the account of the monarchic period in chs. 61–66 is an important source for the study of the way in which Chronicles was evaluated sometime after the destruction of the Temple by a certain non-sectarian group. The historical account has been formulated in a literary pattern based on alternative ‘bright’ and ‘dark’ periods, which are represented by bright and dark clouds. (1) The first ‘bright’ period relevant to our topic refers to the days of David and Solomon (ch. 61). In general terms, the description of these days resembles both deuteronomistic history and Chronicles. The literary pattern precludes any reference to the revolts in David’s days, to David’s sins, or to Solomon’s sin, in this unit. As it is well known, deuteronomistic history reports these events but 1–2 Chronicles omitted them. (2) The following ‘dark’ period refers to the Northern Kingdom from Jeroboam’s days through the days in which ‘Shalmaneser (sic)…carried them (the Israelites) off as captives’. The narrative follows deuteromistic history. However, because of the literary pattern, the report of Jehu’s revolt is omitted. Obviously, this literary pattern precludes any mention of 2 Chron. 28.9-15 (one of the few notices concerning Israelite history in Chronicles). Furthermore, the image of Israel’s total exile, which implies that the post-Shabnaneser inhabitants of Samaria were not Israelites, may be explained as a consequence of the literary pattern, and not as a deliberate choice between the report in 2 Kings 17; 18.9-12 and the contradictory report in 2 Chronicles 30. (3) The next ‘bright’ period (ch. 63) refers to Hezekiah’s days, or more precisely to the divine deliverance of Jerusalem because of the righteousness of Hezekiah (63.5). The reference to the prayer of Hezekiah (2 Kgs


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19.15-19; see esp. v. 19) and the number 185,000 (63.7; cf. 2 Kgs 19.35; the number is not mentioned in 2 Chron. 32.21) suggest a dependence on deuteronomistic history. Significantly, the Hezekian reform, the main point in Chronicles’ account of Hezekiah’s days, is totally absent from ch. 63, a chapter describing the ‘bright’ days. (4) The following ‘dark’ period refers to the days of Manasseh. The point of departure of the description is 2 Kgs 21.lff., but the theme was extended, new sins were added, and new details were provided for the old sins. Although the author explicitly mentions the prayer of Manasseh, and he knows that it was heard (64.8; cf. 2 Chron. 33.12-13), he rejects the description of Manasseh in Chronicles,40 and polemizes against it, or against related traditions.41 Although the literary pattern demands an evil Manasseh, one may conclude, at the very least, that 2 Baruch’s image of Manasseh could not be derived from 2 Chronicles 33. (5) The next two periods are the ‘bright’ period of Josiah and the ‘dark’ period of the destruction of the temple. The basic motifs in the descriptions of both periods may have been drawn from either the deuteronomistic history or Chronicles or even from both. To conclude, the historical images of Hezekiah and Manasseh in 2 Baruch are congruent with deuteronomistic history and were probably related to this account. The images do not reflect Chronicles’ account of monarchic history. 9. Prayer of Manasseh According to 2 Chron. 33.18 Manasseh’s prayer to God was recorded in the ‘chronicles of the kings of Israel’. However, Chronicles does not provide the text of this prayer. The void is filled by the ‘Prayer of Manasseh’, whose text, and not only its title, refers to the account in 2 Chronicles 33.42 The very existence of the prayer proves that the author of the prayer and his/her audience accepted the account in 2 Chronicles 33. But who were they? The earliest attested occurrence of the prayer is in the Didascalia (third century CE); its terminus ad quo is slightly after the fourth century BCE (the probable date for the composition of 1–2 Chronicles). Beyond this point there is no general agreement among modern scholars, either concerning date and place of origin or concerning the original language.43 3. Qumran In his report on the biblical fragments of Cave Four, Cross (1956) wrote as follows: ‘At the other extreme (of preservation) is our single copy of the

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book of Chronicles from Qumran. It is found on a three-inch strip of leather. Parts of six lines, two columns are preserved; but worms have gorged themselves on Holy Writ. The result is leather lace with only four complete words legible.’44 These four legible words were not published in DJD V, and no further copies of 1–2 Chronicles were found in Qumran. What can be deduced from the fact that 1–2 Chronicles was hardly found in Qumran? There is no doubt that the fate of any particular scroll was determined by chance, but the pattern of distribution of the 179 biblical texts found in Qumran cannot be considered the result of simple chance. This pattern does reflect the Qumranic ‘library’, at least in general terms. Wise,45 following Sanders,46 presents the following picture of the textual findings: Genesis 15 texts, Exodus 15, Leviticus 8, Numbers 6, Deuteronomy 25, Joshua 2, Judges 3, Samuel 4, Kings 3, Isaiah 19, Jeremiah 4, Ezekiel 6, ‘Minor Prophets’ 8, Psalms 30, Job 5, Proverbs 2, Ruth 2, Canticles 4, Ecclesiastes 1, Lamentations 4, Esther 0, Daniel 9, Ezra–Nehemiah 1, Chronicles 1. Even if the contents of the ‘Qumran library’ should not be a perfect mirror of the ideas of the members of the community, it reflects to some extent their priorities concerning texts. For instance, more than half of the extant library consists of Pentateuch + Psalms, and almost 60 percent of the remaining texts are prophetic books (including Daniel in this category).47 The historical books are relatively scarce. Among them Kings and Samuel are much more represented than Chronicles and Ezra-Nehemiah (seven against only two). If this distribution reflects the approach of the ‘librarians’, we must conclude that Chronicles was relatively less important than other biblical books. If this hypothesis is correct, we should expect only a few quotations from Chronicles and few interpretations of Chronicles in the Qumranic literature. To the best of my knowledge, no clear quotations from Chronicles’ unique material have been published. With regard to probable quotations from parallel accounts, the question is whether they are quotations from 1–2 Chronicles or from the better attested, and probably more influential, biblical books that contain the parallel verse(s).48 Moreover, since the text of 4QSama is closer to the parallel account in MT Chronicles than to the text of the MT Samuel,49 one should conclude that minute textual examination of the parallel texts does not provide an adequate methogological solution to the source problem mentioned above. Since there is no alternative method, and since the most probable source for quotations is the source with which the writers were most familiar, that is the most attested


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source in their writings, one should conclude that it is more likely that the quotations of the parallel accounts refer to the non-Chronicles source (e.g., 1–2 Samuel, 1–2 Kings) than to 1–2 Chronicles. Concerning the influence of Chronicles on literary texts found in Qumran, (a) Yadin has suggested that the Temple Scroll (TS) claims to be the ‘blueprint’ for the construction of the temple that David gave to Solomon (1 Chron. 28.11ff.), and that this note from Chronicles was the point of departure for the author of the Temple Scroll.50 However, the extant text of the Temple Scroll does not claim to be this blueprint, or that the Solomonic temple is its materialization (which is implied in Chronicles); furthermore, the idea that the temple was built, or should be built, according to a plan inspired or commanded by God is not restricted to 1–2 Chronicles, but is a common tenet. This tenet could have inspired putative divine plans (e.g., Ezekiel’s blueprint). Obviously, if the divine plans differed from the actual temple, they undermined its legitimacy.51 In many aspects the Temple Scroll and 1–2 Chronicles present totally different approaches and images;52 however, there are a few cases in which the Temple Scroll resembles uncommon positions found in Chronicles, such as: (1) The cultic role of the Levites as slaughterers (see TS 22.4, cf. 2 Chron. 30.17; 35.6, 10-11, but see also Ezek. 44.10-11). (2) The slaughter of the offering of Passover before the Tamid (see TS 17.7). This order contradicts the rabbinical tradition, but 2 Chron. 35.11-14 may be interpreted in a way that suggested the Temple Scroll order. (3) The ‘columned porch of (free-)standing columns’ to the West of the Temple (‫ פרור עמודים‬TS [= 11Q19 = 11 QTa] col. 35.10) may be related to the ‘colonnade’ (‫ )פרבר‬to the West in 1 Chron. 26.18.53

Do these similarities point to any kind of dependence between 1–2 Chronicles and the Temple Scroll? Taking into account the vast amount of differences between the two books, and the nature of these similarities, the most probable relationship between the two books is not one of dependence. Therefore, one might assume that the Temple Scroll and Chronicles reflect a common tradition. The existence of an Ezekielian tradition about Levites as cultic slaughterers clearly supports this conclusion. (b) One of the non-canonical Psalms of Qumran has the following superscription: ‫תפלה למנשה מלך יהודה בכלו אתו מלך אשור‬.54 Obviously this superscription recalls the account in 2 Chron. 33.12f. However, Schuller has shown that the language of this psalm is not dependent on the language of Chronicles and concludes, ‘it is more likely that this psalm was only secondarily attributed to Manasseh, and not composed

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specifically as a psalm of Manasseh’.55 Obviously, this secondary attribution is conclusive evidence supporting the existence of a tradition about Manasseh that is congruent with Chronicles – otherwise, this attribution is totally inexplicable – but incompatible with deuteronomistic history.56 It is noteworthy that during the late Second Temple period and thereafter the issue of Manasseh’s repentance was addressed many times, by different groups and with totally different results (e.g., cf. 2 Bar. 64.6ff. with the Prayer of Manasseh; Mishnah San. 10.2 with b. San. 102b).57 In this respect, the superscription from Qumran, the Prayer of Manasseh, Josephus (Ant. 10.40-46), the sixth Hellenistic Synagogal prayer58 found in the Apostolic Constitutions (Ap. Con. 7.37.1-5),59 the words of R. Judah, and especially those of R. Yohanan according to b. San. 102b, and so on,60 all reflect a common point of view on Manasseh’s repentance, and on repentance in general. Obviously, from the time in which Manasseh’s conversion became a paradigmatic case of repentance, as well as a test case for the extent of divine forgiveness, the question at stake is not the approach to 1–2 Chronicles, but one much more comprehensive and fundamental. Nevertheless, one may assume that those who rejected or minimalized Manasseh’s repentance, or the extent of God’s forgiveness, did not reflect Chronicles’ history nor its theology.61 Those who endorsed the opposite position probably accepted the report of 2 Chron. 33.12-13, but that does not imply that they accepted Chronicles as a whole. 4. Philo Philo’s quotations of the biblical accounts concerning the monarchic history are very few. His works contain about 2,000 references to the Pentateuch, but only about 50 references to the rest of the biblical material.62 The attested references to the main parallel account of the monarchic history (i.e., 1 Sam. 31.1–2 Kgs 24.20; 1 Chron. 10.1–2 Chron. 36.13) are the following. (1) ‘I bow, too, in admiration before the mysteries revealed in the books of Kings, where it does not offend us to find described as songs of God’s psalmist David who lived and flourished many generations afterwards’ (Conf. 149).63 The reference is to 1 Kgs 15.11 (the relevant expression is omitted in the parallel 2 Chron. 14.1), and to 2 Kgs 18.3 (//2 Chron. 29.2). (2) ‘To return to the book of Kings. Every mind that is on the way to be widowed and empty of evil says to the prophet, “O man of God, thou hast come in to remind me of my iniquity and my sin” ’ (Quod Deus 138).64 Philo refers here to 1 Kgs 17.18 (without parallel in 1–2 Chronicles).


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(3) ‘…a shepherd who shall lead it blamelessly that the nation may not decay as a flock scattered about without one to guide it’ (Virt. 58). The language may be related to 1 Kgs 22.17 (//2 Chron. 18.16). Significantly, two out of the four biblical texts mentioned above have no parallel in Chronicles, and three of them explicitly mention the book of Kings. In addition, there is only one probable reference to Chronicles’ genealogical lists (1 Chronicles 1–9) in Philo’s work. In his ‘De Congressu Quaerendae Eruditionis Gratia’ Philo wrote: ‘We read, “The sons of Manasseh were those whom the Syrian concubine bore to him, Machir and Machir begat Gilead” ’ (Congr. 43n.). This verse does not occur in the MT Gen. 46.20, but a very similar verse occurs in 1 Chron. 7.14 (MT = LXX), as follows: ‘The sons of Manasseh: Asriel,65 whom his Aramean concubine bore; she bore Machir the father of Gilead’ (NJPSV). However, LXX Gen. 46.20 reads: ‘And there were sons born to Manasseh which the Syrian concubine bore to him, Machin and Machir begot Galaad’. Since Philo considered the LXX version an authoritative text,66 and since most of Philo’s biblical references point to the Pentateuch, one should conclude that there is no solid evidence supporting the idea that Philo was dependent on 1 Chron. 7.14. To conclude, the biblical account of the monarchic period is scarcely quoted in Philo’s work. Concerning 1–2 Chronicles, there is no solid support for any of the probable quotations. It does not imply that Philo considered the books non-biblical,67 but it implies that Philo did not pay much attention to Chronicles. 5. Historians 1. Eupolemus Only a few fragments are extant from Eupolemus’ ‘On the Kings in Judea’. This work was written in Greek, probably in 159/8 BCE, and probably in Judah.68 From the extant passages it is clear that Eupolemus’ history relied on both the deuteronomistic history and Chronicles,69 and sometimes in their LXX versions.70 However, he did not cling to them too tightly, and sometimes he not only went beyond the testimony of the biblical literature71 but also contradicted it.72 Concerning 1–2 Chronicles, information which is found only in the non-parallel account of Chronicles occurs in Eupolemus’ history.73 In addition, there are cases in which Eupolemus’ history seems to agree with 2 Chronicles against 1 Kings.74 However, more frequently, Eupolemus’

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history does not agree with either the book of Kings or Chronicles, or goes beyond them. For instance, (1) According to Praep. Evang. 9.30.3, David is the son of Saul. (2) According to Praep. Evang. 9.30.3f, David fought successful wars against Tyrians, Assyrians, Nabateans, and Itureans, which are obviously not mentioned in the biblical text. In contrast, David’s wars against the Philistines are not mentioned at all in this summary of his military activity. (3) According to Praep. Evang. 9.30.6, the angel Dianathan commanded David not to build the temple. (4) According to Praep. Evang. 30.8, David transferred the rule to Solomon in the presence of Eli, the High Priest. (5) According to Praep. Evang. 9.34.14, Solomon went to Shilo (not Gibeon) to sacrifice there, after he completed the building of the temple. (6) According to Praep. Evang. 9.34.4f., Nebuchadnezzar, with the support of Astibares – the king of the Medes – subdued Samaria, Galilee and Scythopolis, and the Jews living in Gilead (cf. 2 Kgs 15.29; 17.5f.). Thus, Eupolemus is clearly dependent on, but obviously not limited to, biblical material. He does not restrict himself to filling gaps in the biblical narrative. He straightforwardly contradicts the biblical narrative when it seems necessary. Thus, one should conclude that neither the deuteronomistic history nor Chronicles were authoritative for Eupolemus. 2. Josephus Josephus wrote his Jewish Antiquities in Rome, little more than 20 years after the destruction of the temple, at about the same time in which Yavneh (Jamnia) began to develop its response to the catastrophe. Jewish Antiquities is not unrelated to the general and multifarious process of re-adjustment to the new circumstances that embraced all of Judaism. Therefore, the sociocultural function, as well as the theological message of Antiquities, belongs to a period slightly later than the late Second Temple period. Nevertheless, the formative years of Josephus were in the late Second Temple period; his ‘Scripture’ was the Scripture accepted by at least one influential group in Jerusalem in the late Second Temple period. Thus, the study of his account of the monarchic period, from the death of Saul to the final summary of the two deportations (Ant. 6.378–10.185), may provide an insight into the approach during the late Second Temple period to the deuteronomistic and and chronistic historiographical works. Even a cursory reading of Ant. 6.378–10.185 shows that both the deuteronomistic history and Chronicles were primary sources for Josephus. But how did Josephus cope with their discrepancies? Can we discern a


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pattern of relative authoritativeness? A careful reading of Antiquities provides the following answers. (1) Josephus followed Chronicles in most of its additions to the deuteronomistic history but not in its omissions. For instance, Josephus included a report on Rehoboam’s fortifications (Ant. 8.246; cf. 2 Chron. 11.5ff.), on Asa’s war against the Cushites (Ant. 8.290ff.; cf. 2 Chron. 14.8ff.), on the war against the Moabites, and Ammonites in the days of Jehoshaphat (Ant. 9.7ff.; cf. 2 Chron. 20.lff.), on the Hezekian reform (according to the narrative in Chronicles, Ant. 9.260ff.; cf. 2 Chron. 29.1ff.), and on Manasseh’s captivity and repentance (Ant. 10.40ff.; cf. 2 Chron. 33.11). But, on the other hand, Josephus included in his narrative the Bath-Sheba story (Ant. 7.130ff.; cf. 2 Sam. 11.2ff.), the Absalom story, including the Amnon and Tamar introductory episode (Ant. 8.162ff.; cf. 2 Sam. 13.1ff.), and the account of Solomon’s sin (Ant. 8.190ff.; cf. 1 Kgs 11.1ff.), all of which are carefully omitted in Chronicles. Josephus also included all the deuteronomistic reports concerning the Northern kingdom, which are omitted in 1–2 Chronicles, and among them the Elijah/ Elisha stories (the vast majority of them omitted in Chronicles). (2) Obviously, this way of harmonizing the data provided by SamuelKings with the data provided by Chronicles is not possible when the two report different details about a specific event. The battle in the Valley of Rephaim between David’s army and the Philistines is an interesting test case for Josephus’ use of discrepant, as well as problematic, historical data. 2 Samuel 5.18-20 reports the event as follows: The Philistines came and spread out over the Valley of Rephaim. David inquired of the LORD, ‘Shall I go up against the Philistines? Will You deliver them into my hands?’ And the LORD answered David, ‘Go up, and I will deliver the Philistines into your hands’. Thereupon David marched to Baalperazim, and David defeated them there. And he said ‘The LORD has broken through my enemies before me as waters break through [a dam]’. That is why that place was named Baal-perazim. The Philstines abandoned their idols (‫ )עצביהם‬there and David and his men carried them off (NJPSV).

1 Chronicles 14.9-12 reports the event slightly differently: The Philistines came and raided the Valley of Rephaim. David inquired of God, ‘Shall I go up against the Philistines? Will You deliver them into my hands?’ and the LORD answered him, ‘Go up, and I will deliver them into your hands’. Thereupon David marched to Baal-perazim, and David defeated them there. And David said ‘God has broken through my enemies by my hands as waters break through [a dam]’. That is why that place was named Baal-perazim. The Philistines abandoned their gods (‫ )אלהיהם‬there and David ordered these to be burned (NJPSV modified).

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The Chronicler considered the end of the story in 2 Sam. 5.20 wholly unacceptable. David was a pious king who should have fulfilled the requirements of the law in Deut. 7.25.75 Therefore, the report in 2 Sam. 5.20 was ‘emended’. Did Josephus accept the correction or reject it? Before we answer this question, we should pay attention to other ‘problematic’ aspects of this passage. For instance, the text seems to imply that David inquired of God without the assistance of the priest; but such inquiry must be done before the priest or by the priest, according to Exod. 28.30, Num. 27.21 (see also Deut. 8.33; Ezra 2.63; Neh. 7.65). Moreover, the place is named ‫בעל פרצים‬ because ‫אויבי‬/‫אלהים את איבי‬/‫פרץ יהוה‬. Does it imply that YHWH was called Baal, in David’s days? Josephus’ report of the event is as follows: They (the Philistines) marched against him (David) to Jerusalem and, when they had taken the so called Valley of the Giants* – this place is not far from the city, – they encamped there. But the king of the Jews, who permitted himself to do nothing without an oracle and a command from God and without having Him as surety for the future, ordered the high priest ** to foretell to him what was God’s pleasure and what the outcome of the battle would be; and when he prophesied a decisive victory, David led his force out against the Philistines. At the first encounter he fell suddenly upon the enemy’s rear, slew a part of them and put the rest to flight. Let no one, however, suppose that it was a small army of Philistines that came against the Hebrews, or infer from the swiftness of their defeat or from their failure to perform any courageous or noteworthy act that there was any reluctance or cowardice on their part; on the contrary it should be known that all Syria and Phoenicia and beside them many other warlike nations fought along with them and took part in the war (Ant. 7.71-74 [LCL]). *According to LXX Chronicles. **Facts not mentioned in the biblical reports.

With regard to the idol, Josephus probably found both biblical reports highly problematic. Especially troublesome was Chronicles’ report on burning idols. Josephus’ solution was omission. Josephus also omitted the Baal-perazim pericope, probably because of its questionable character. However, Josephus not only omitted material but also added new elements to the narrative, for instance the presence of another army along with the Philistines,76 and the note about David’s asking the priest.77 He also altered the text and attributed the attack on the enemies’ rear to this battle instead of relating it to the next battle, as it is in the biblical narratives (cf. 2 Sam. 5.23; 1 Chron. 14.14). Finally, our test case contains also a reference drawn from the LXX Chronicles.


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Our test case is worthy of note because it is a microcosm of the entire Antiquities.78 Josephus used other versions of the Scripture besides the MT.79 Moreover, he omitted scriptural passages if he thought it necessary,80 and sometimes he altered the biblical narratives.81 Furthermore, there are cases in which Josephus inserted a ‘missing note’ into the biblical account (as with David’s inquiry of God, or the explicit notice describing Ahaz’s worship of Assyrian deities) (Ant. 9.256). In addition, many times he made references to clearly non-biblical traditions,82 and even included ‘direct’ quotations from Menander (Ant. 8.144). To sum up, the points mentioned above clearly point out that one cannot infer that Chronicles was ‘canonical’ (i.e., fully authoritative) from the fact that Josephus considered Chronicles a legitimate and important source for the description of the monarchic period. Furthermore, the question of the relative authoritativeness of the different biblical accounts cannot be resolved by studying Josephus’ choices in Antiquities. His choices were much more influenced by his own theological and historiographical positions than by a compelling sense of the writing’s relative authoritativeness. In conclusion, we have found that Chronicles was used by both Eupolemus and Josephus as a legitimate source. However, both historians approached the biblical text in a very free way, and introduced in their works references to traditions that never were in their way to become fully authoritative. The degree of authoritativeness of Chronicles in the late Second Temple period cannot be deduced from these works. 6. Conclusions This survey of references to 1–2 Chronicles in late Second Temple period was intended to assess the relative influence of Chronicles in the shaping of the living tradition at that time.83 Besides the parallel account of 1 Esdras, T. Mos. 2.5-9, and the material concerning Manasseh’s repentance,84 we did not find further evidence pointing to its authoritativeness as an account of the monarchic history in the late Second Temple period. Moreover, the comparison of these data with the references to deuteronomistic history in the same material clearly shows that, in general, the deuteronomistic account of the monarchic history received more attention. Since both accounts were available, one should conclude that there was a clear tendency to prefer the image of the monarchic period according to deuteronomistic history over the image from Chronicles; that is to say, deuteronomistic history was more authoritative than that of Chronicles. These results are congruent with:

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History, Literature and Theology in the Book of Chronicles (1) the masoretic classification of the Scripture, according to which 1–2 Samuel and 1–2 Kings are included in the Prophets, but Chronicles in the Writings; (2) its title, Paraleipomenon, that is ‘(The books) of things left out’;85 (3) the fact that the oldest Syriac translation of the Bible did not include 1–2 Chronicles; (4) the existence of voices pointing to the limited reliability of Chronicles, as an historical account, in rabbinical Judaism and long after its canonization.86

Endnotes * This chapter is a slightly modified version of a contribution first published as ‘The Authority of 1–2 Chronicles in the Late Second Temple Period’, JSP 3 (1988), pp. 59-88. I wish to express my gratitude to T&T Clark International/Continuum for allowing me to republish this essay in the present volume. 1. The two books of Chronicles were considered a single book in the masoretic tradition until the Medieval period (the first Hebrew manuscript in which the book was written as 1–2 Chronicles is dated to 1448). Linguistic and thematic considerations support their unity. The present form of 1–2 Chronicles is dependent on the LXX, and on the Vulgate (cf. 1–2 Samuel). 2. Chronicles also contains several accounts that parallel texts found elsewhere in the Bible (e.g., 1 Chron. 1.5-23//Gen. 10.1-30; 1 Sam. 31.1-13//1 Chron. 10.1-12; Ps. 105.1-5//1 Chron. 16.8-22; Ezra 1.1-3a//2 Chron. 36.22-23). 3. See, e.g., H.G.M. Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles (NCB; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1982), p. 15f., and the bibliography cited therein. 4. The Bible as a canonical book is a post-late Second Temple period development; therefore, the use of the term biblical in this context is a clear anachronism. 5. This seems to be the only method available. An analysis of the occurrence of theological ideas found in Chronicles in literature of the late Second Temple period would yield only ambiguous, results. For instance, the idea of divine retribution in history occurs differently in Judges, in the primary deuteronomic history redaction of 1–2 Kings, in the later nomistic redaction of 1–2 Kings, and Chronicles. However, even when an account such as 2 Macc. 12.40 clearly recalls 2 Chron. 28.6 (‘Pekah…killed 120000 in Judah…because they had forsaken the LORD…’ [NJPSV]) it cannot be considered as pointing to the influence of the Chronicler’s historiography, since the idea of personal retribution occurs elsewhere in the Bible (e.g., Ezek. 18.5-9). On the other hand, the occurrence of passages recalling the retribution theology of the book of Judges, or the nomistic retribution theology, does not rule out knowledge of the Chronicler’s retribution theology. For the Chronicler’s retribution theology, see, e.g., S. Japhet, The Ideology of the Book of Chronicles and its Place in Biblical Thought (BEATAJ, 9; Frankfurt am Main: P. Lang, 2nd rev. edn, 1997), pp. 162-65 and passim; and Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles, pp. 31-33. 6. The original setting and date of Tobit are not clear. It is obvious that it was written after 515 BCE and probably before 168 BCE. Most scholars suggest a date c. 200; but see G.W.E. Nickelsburg, ‘Stories of Biblical and Early Post-Biblical Times’, in M.E. Stone (ed.), Jewish Writings of the Second Temple Period (Assen: Van Gorcum; Philadelphia:


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Fortress Press, 1984), pp. 33-87 (45). For a critical survey of the different positions in modern scholarship, as well as bibliographical notes, see R. Doran, ‘Narrative Literature’, in RA. Kraft and G.W.E. Nickelsburg (eds.), Early Judaism and its Modern Interpreters (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1986), pp. 287-310 (299). 7. For a study on Sennacherib’s death, and for bibliographical reference to the different sources, see S. Parpola, ‘The Murderer of Sennacherib’, in B. Alster (ed.), Death in Mesopotamia: Papers Read at XXVIe Rencontre Assyriologique Internationale (Mesopotamia, 8; Copenhagen: Akademisk F, 1980), pp. 171-82. 8. The reference occurs in the Short (Greek) Recension of Tobit (attested, for instance, in Codex Vaticanus) but not in the Long (Greek) Recension (which is attested in MS Sinaiticus), or in the Vetus Latina version, or even in the Vulgate. For the critical apparatus, see R.H. Charles, The Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha of the Old Testament (2 vols.; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1913), I, p. 240. See also J. A. Fitzmayer, Tobit (CEJL; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2003), p. 334. 9. Citation from Charles, Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha, I, 240n, and see Fitzmayer, Tobit, pp. 4-6. For the position that the text does not refer to king Manasseh, see Fitzmayer, Tobit, p. 334 and bibliography. 10. Chronicles was probably written c. fourth century BCE. See Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles, pp. 15-16. Ben Sira lived at the beginning of the second century BCE (see, e.g., G.W.E. Nickelsburg, Jewish Literature between the Bible and the Mishnah [Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1981], pp. 55-56). 11. Ben Sira was a Jerusalemite sage (for a ‘portrait’ of Ben Sira, see the prologue to the book written by his grandson; see Sir. 39.1-4, and Sir. 34.912). If Chronicles was ‘hidden’ from Ben Sira, what authority could Chronicles have had in the wisdom circles of his time? 12. See the lengthy dissimilar account in 2 Chron. 29.3–31.21. In contrast, in 2 Kings we find only two short notes concerning the Hezekian cultic reform (2 Kgs 18.4, 22). It is noteworthy that the Chronicler not only enlarged the ‘reform narrative’ but also compressed the 2 Kings report on the Assyrian invasion and its final outcome. 13. Cf. Sir. 48.19b with 2 Kgs 19.3 (absent in Chronicles); cf. Sir. 48.21 with 2 Kgs 19.35 and with 2 Chron. 32.21; Sir. 48.20c refers to 2 Kgs 19.6ff., 20ff., but not to 2 Chron. 32.20 (the only occurrence of Isaiah in Chronicles). 14. Sirach 47 was not found at Masada or Qumran. 15. See I. Levi, The Hebrew Text of the Book of Ecclesiasticus (Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1904), p. 65. Reconstructing the text of Sir. 47.9-10a, Skehan and DiLella have proposed the following reading: ‘…and daily had his (David’s) praises sung. He added beauty to the feasts and solemnized the seasons of each year. With string music before the altar, providing sweet melody for the psalms’ (P.W. Skehan and A.A. DiLella, The Wisdom of Ben Sira [AB, 39; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1987], p. 522). 16. According to 2 Chron. 29.25 (without parallel in Kings), David the king, Gad the seer (‫)חזה‬, and Nathan the prophet (‫ )נביא‬stationed the Levitical singers, with their instruments, according to a divine ordinance given by YHWH through the prophets (cf. 1 Chron. 15.16; 16.4-7; 23.4-5, 27-32). The Levitical singers are not mentioned in Sirach 47. In addition, it is worth noting that according to 1 Chron. 23.5, David designed the musical instruments for praising God (cf. Amos 6.5). This ‘fact’ is not mentioned in Ben Sira.

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17. See, Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles, p. 15; and Skehan and DiLella, Wisdom, p. 526. 18. See DJD, IV, pp. 91-93. 11QPsªDavComp attributes thousands of Psalms (‫)תהלים‬ to David. Cf. 2 Sam. 22.1-51 (//Psalm 18). 19. Both its content and its language are unrelated to 1 Chron. 15.20. 20. See Skehan and DiLella, Wisdom, p. 538. 21. It is not improbable that 2 Chron. 32.3-5, 30 is actually a reinterpretation of Isa. 22.9-11. 22. This seems to reflect the most probable original reading of the text; see A.A. DiLella, The Hebrew Text of Sirach (The Hague: Mouton, 1966), p. 38ff. 23. For the date and purpose of 1 Esdras, see J.M. Myers, 1–11 Esdras (AB, 42; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1974), p. 8ff.; E.M. Schürer, The History of the Jewish People in the Age of Jesus Christ: 175 B.C.–A.D. 135 (ed. G. Vermes, F. Millar and M. Black; 3 vols.; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1973–87), III, p. 708ff.; H.W. Attridge, ‘Historiography’, in Stone (ed.), Jewish Writings, pp. 157-84 (157ff.), and the bibliography cited in these works. 24. For the secondary character of 1 Esdras, see H.G.M. Williamson, Israel in the Book of Chronicles (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1977), pp. 12-36. This implies a terminus a quo for the composition of 1 Esdras in the fourth century BCE. 25. Although the book was probably composed in Greek, its version of 2 Chron. 35.20 (in 1 Esd. 1.25) follows the MT reading, against the LXX reading of Chronicles. Consequently, it has been suggested that 1 Esdras is dependent on the masoretic text of Chronicles. 26. The main supplementary material (i.e., without parallel in 2 Chronicles 35–36; Ezra 1–10; Neh. 7.72–8.12) is the story of the bodyguards (1 Esd. 3.14-63). Neither this story nor 1 Esd. 1.23-24 (without parallel in 2 Chronicles) occur in the deuteronomistic history. Moreover, according to the book of Kings, the first Babylonian deportation occurred during the reign of Jehoiachin, and not during the days of Jehoiakim. 1 Esdras follows Chronicles. Furthermore, 2 Kings 25 has no parallel in 2 Chronicles. The parallel account ends at 2 Chron. 36.12-13 (//2 Kgs 24.19-20). Instead of 2 Kings 25 we find another composition, 2 Chron. 36.14-23. All the information found in 2 Kings 25 is absent from Esdras 1. 27. For instance, in 1 Esd. 1.28 we read ‘did not heed the words of Jeremiah’, instead of the ‘did not heed the words of Necho’ (2 Chron. 35.22), see also 1 Esd. 1.38, 41 (concerning v. 41, cf. Dan. 5.2). 28. See, Williamson, Israel, p. 18ff. (Note: I developed later a different approach to the doctrine of divine retribution in Chronicles, see Chapters 2 and 8 in particular). 29. According to Nickelsburg (Jewish Literature, pp. 80-83, 212-214) the core of the Testament of Moses was composed during the persecution in the days of Antiochus IV. Later, chs. 6-7 were added to the work, and ch. 10 was reworked. The relevant chapter for our discussion, in ch. 2, is considered a part of the original core. For a survey of modern research concerning the date of this work and proposals for its setting, see J. Priest, ‘Testament of Moses’, in J.H. Charlesworth (ed.), Old Testament Pseudepigrapha (2 vols.; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1983), I, pp. 919-34 (920ff.); J.J. Collins, Early Judaism and its Modern Interpreters, p. 277, and the bibliography cited therein.


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30. According to Sweet’s revision of Charles’ translation (H.F.D. Sparks, The Apocryphal Old Testament [Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1984], p. 608). According to the system used in Sparks’ volume, < > indicates a restoration of what is conjectured to have fallen out of the original; bold character indicates conjectural emendation: italics indicates that the words were not actually found in the text but they were added to the translation in order to improve its sense. 31. The four would be Jehoram, Ahaziah, Ahaz and Manasseh. Concerning the first two see 2 Kgs 8.18 (//2 Chron. 21.6), 2 Kgs 8.26f. (//2 Chron. 22.3f.) and cf. 2 Kgs 16.3 (//2 Chron. 28.3), and 2 Kgs 17.17. Concerning Ahaz and Manasseh see 2 Kgs 16.3 (//2 Chron. 28.3) and 2 Kgs 21.6 (//2 Chron. 33.6). 32. According to Chronicles, Rehoboam was the first Davidic king who sinned. However, it was only a short period of sin, and in his fifth year he returned to YHWH. 33. For the date, and for the proposal about the Qumranic origin of this text, see, e.g., Doran, ‘Narrative Literature’, p. 293f.; Nickelsburg, Jewish Literature, p. 142ff.; Nickelsburg, ‘Stories of Biblical and Early Post-Biblical Times’, p. 55f., and the bibliography cited in these works. 34. According to Chronicles, no king fortified his kingdom or enjoyed peace, if he did not seek God; but conversely, kings who were pious, in so far as they remained pious, enjoyed peace or success in their wars. Moreover, they fortified the kingdom, were not stricken by cruel illness, etc. In this way God rewarded those who walked in God’s ways and punished those who did not walk in them. For instance, Asa enjoyed a long period of divine blessing (2 Chron. 14.2–15.19); during these 35 years he was faithful to YHWH. But see what happened to him from the 36th year on, when he changed his mind (2 Chron. 16.1-12). The importance of this theological principle in Chronicles has been stressed in the works of P. Welten (Geschichte and Geschichtsdarstellung in den Chronikbüchern [WMANT, 42; Neukirchen–Vluyn: Neuldrchener Verlag, 1973]), Japhet (Ideology), and Williamson (1 and 2 Chronicles), among many others. 35. Compare 2 Chron. 33.11 with Asc. lsa. 3.7 (esp. the reference to hooks and iron chains), but cf. 2 Kgs 25.7 (//Jer. 52.11), 2 Kgs 20.16ff. 36. See our conclusion concerning 2 Bar. 64.1–65.2, below. 37. Cf. H. Anderson, ‘4 Maccabees’, in J.H. Charlesworth (ed.), Old Testament Pseudepigrapha (2 vols.; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1985), II, pp. 531-56 (547 n. 3b). 38. Both 4 Ezra and 2 Baruch were composed after the destruction of the Second Temple, and strictly speaking, should not be considered a late Second Temple period literature. The works of Josephus present a similar problem. Since our survey is concerned with historical images that do not change so quickly, we have included all three in the present survey. Nonetheless, it is worthy of notice that these books were contemporary with ‘Yavneh’, and its social and intellectual environment. 39. For instance, Jehoshaphat’s prayer in 2 Chron. 20.6ff., and Manasseh’s prayer in 2 Chron. 33.13, 18, 19. Compare with the sixth Hellenistic Synagogal prayer, see nn. 57 and 58, below. 40. According to the report in 2 Chron. 33.12-16, Manasseh turned out to be a pious king. Consequently, according to Chronicles, he was rewarded by YHWH, in the way in which other kings were rewarded (2 Chron. 33.14, cf. 2 Chron. 11.5-23; 14.6ff.; 17.12;

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26.9ff.; 32.5ff.). He became a ‘teaching prophet’ (2 Chron. 33.16), like the kings Jehoshaphat, Hezekiah and Josiah (see Y. Amit, ‘The Role of Prophecy and the Prophets in the Teaching of Chronicles’, Beth Mikra 28 [1983], pp. 113-33 [Hebrew]), and like Shamaiah, Oded and the other Chronicles’ prophets; and finally he enjoyed a long life and was not stricken by God (cf. 2 Chron. 21.18-19; 24.20-26; 26.18ff.; 33.25). 41. ‘For though the Most High at last heard his prayer when he was shut up in the bronze horse, and the horse was melting, and a sign was given to him then, his life was far from perfect, and all he deserved was to know by whom he would be tormented in the end. For he who is able to do good is also able to punish’ (2 Bar. 64.8-10). See the discussion on the paradigmatic character of Manasseh’s repentance in part C of this work (Qumran). 42. See Charlesworth, Old Testament Pseudepigrapha, II, p. 628. 43. According to Charlesworth it was written between 200 BCE and 70 CE, probably in Jerusalem. See Charlesworth, Old Testament Pseudepigrapha, II, p. 628. Others have proposed Alexandria, and dates from the second century BCE to the second century CE. Probably most scholars would agree that the original language of the prayer was Greek; nevertheless, the proposal that it was composed in a Semitic language (Hebrew or Aramaic) has many supporters. For a critical survey of different proposals, see Schürer, History of the Jewish People, III, p. 730ff. 44. F.M. Cross, ‘A Report on the Biblical Fragments of Cave Four in Wadi Qumran’, BASOR 141 (1956), pp. 9-13 (11). See also F.M. Cross, The Ancient Library of Qumran and Modern Biblical Studies (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1958), p. 32. 45. M. Wise, ‘The Dead Sea Scrolls: Part 1, Archeology and Biblical Manuscripts’, BA 49 (1986), pp. 140-59 (143). 46. J.A. Sanders, ‘The Dead Sea Scrolls: A Quarter Century of Study’, BA 36 (1973), pp. 110-43 (136). 47. For Daniel in Qumran, see E. Ulrich, ‘Daniel Manuscripts from Qumran: Part 1, a Preliminary Edition of 4Q Danª’, BASOR 268 (1987), pp. 17-37. 48. For instance, 4Q Florilegium contain s small pericopes of 2 Samuel (2 Sam. 7.1011aα; 7.11aβ; 7.11b; 7.12aβ; 7.13b; 7.14a), see G.J. Brooke, Exegesis at Qumran: 4QFlorilegium in its Jewish Context (JSOTSup, 29; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1985), pp. 84ff. These pericopes have parallels in 1 Chron. 17.9-13. 49. See Cross, Ancient Library of Qumran, p. 141 n. 40a. 50. See Y. Yadin, Megillat ha-Migdas (3 vols.; Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1977 [Heb.]), I, p. 70. 51. The legitimacy of the actual Temple and the worship that took place in it was questioned both in the Temple Scroll and in sectarian and non-sectarian works (e.g., Jubilees) found in Qumran. Further considerations raise questions about Yadin’s proposal, among them: (1) According to 1 Chron. 28.12, 19, the plans are inspired but not written by God. For this meaning of ‘the hand of God’, see 2 Kgs 3.15; Ezek. 1.3; 3.14. See also Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles, pp. 182-83. The position that the Temple Scroll is related to this blueprint implies a ‘literal-anthropomorphical’ exegesis on 1 Chron. 28.11-19. (2) Terms that occur elsewhere in Chronicles in relation to the Temple (e.g., ‫ ;עזרה‬see 2 Chron. 4.9; 6.13; cf. Ezek. 43.14, 17, 20; 45.19) do not occur in the Temple Scroll.


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52. For instance, the image of the faithful Jerusalem in Chronicles (i.e., during the period when its dwellers sought YHWH) is totally different from the image of Jerusalem in the Temple Scroll. Moreover, the relatively mild position of Chronicles on cultic purity (see 2 Chron. 30.18) is the very opposite of the Temple Scroll approach. Furthermore, the Chronicler considered the Torah (i.e., the Pentateuch) totally authoritative; and therefore, he tried to ‘square’ contradicting precepts found in the Torah (e.g., 2 Chron. 35.12-13, and cf. Exod.12.9; Deut. 16.7). Also the Temple Scroll harmonizes different positions found in the Torah, as well as Prophets, but since its claim is to be ‘Word of God’, it claims its own authority. 53. J. Maier, The Temple Scroll (Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1985), pp. 90-91. 54. 4Q 381 fragm. 33, line 8; see E.M. Schuller, Non-Canonical Psalms from Qumran (Harvard Semitic Studies, 28; Atlanta: Scholars, 1986), p. 155. 55. Schuller, Non-Canonical Psalms, p. 162, see also p. 155ff. For further late Second Period temple examples of secondary attribution of psalms to historical figures and to specific events in their life, see Ps. 151 B (11QPsª151; J.H. Charlesworth and J.A. Sanders, ‘More Psalms of David’, Old Testament Pseudepigrapha, II, pp. 609-24 [615]). Concerning Pss. 154, 155, their headings relate them to Hezekiah, but these headings were found only in manuscript "A" (ms 1113 Library of the Chaldean Patriarchate, Baghdad) of the Syriac version (5 ApocSyrPs 2, 5 ApocSyr 3, MS A). Moreover, the text of these psalms does not support the claim of the superscription. Thus, the superscription is probably a late addition. See Charlesworth and Sanders, Old Testament Pseudepigrapha, II, pp. 620-23. 56. It is incompatible with the deuteronomistic account not only in its approach to Manasseh, but also with its reconstruction of the history of the Assyrian-Judean relations. The book of Kings does not mention any Assyrian involvement in Judean affairs, even less Assyrian hegemony over Judah, since the very night in which the messenger of YHWH smote the Assyrian camp (2 Kgs 19.35). Thus, according to the deuteronomistic narrative, the Assyrian role in Judean history was brought to an end by this miraculous action of YHWH. 57. For the different traditions concerning Manasseh’s repentance, as well as different aspects of the legends about Manasseh, see P. Bogaert, Apocalypse de Baruch (Sources Chrétiennes, 144/5; 2 vols.; Paris: Cerf, 1969), pp. 296-319. 58. Second to third century CE. For questions of date and setting, see D.A. Fiensy, Prayers Alleged to Be Jewish (BJS, 65; Chico, CA: Scholars Press, 1985); D.A. Fiensy and D.R. Darnell, ‘Hellenistic Synagogal Prayers’, in Charlesworth, Old Testament Pseudepigrapha, II, pp. 671-97; J.H. Charlesworth, ‘Jewish Hymns, Odes, and Prayers’, in Kraft and Nickelsburg (eds.), Early Judaism and its Modern Interpreters, pp. 411-36 (416f). 59. It contains a list of biblical figures, whose prayers to God were heard. The list includes Elijah and Elisha, according to 1 Kings 18 and 2 Kgs 2.19-22 (without parallel in Chronicles). It also includes Jehoshaphat (whose prayer is mentioned only in 2 Chronicles 18), and Manasseh (2 Chron. 33.10-13; not in 1–2 Kings). It also includes the prayer of ‘Josiah in Phassa’. If Phassa is a misinterpretation of ‘Pesach’ (see Fiensy and Darnell, ‘Hellenistic Synagogal Prayers’, p. 685 n. g), then there is no biblical account of Josiah’s prayer either in 2 Kgs 23.21-23 or in 2 Chron. 35.1ff. If

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Phassa is a geographical name, then the account cannot be related to any biblical story. The reference to Josiah’s prayer suggests the existence of a third tradition concerning Josiah (cf. our conclusions concerning 4 Macc. 3.7ff.). The occurrence of the name of Manasseh in a list that contains all the forefathers of Israel, Moses, judges, prophets, pious kings, etc., points to the divine acceptance of Manasseh’s repentance. 60. Further examples in Bogaert, Apocalypse de Baruch, pp. 297-302. 61. The possibility of repentance is one of its most important points in the theology of reward so characteristic of the Chronicler’s history. Other points are individual responsibility, individual punishment, and the necessity of warning before punishment. 62. See W.L. Knox, ‘A Note on Philo’s Use of the Old Testament’, JTS 41 (1940), pp. 30-34 (30f.); F.H. Colson, ‘Philo’s Quotations from the Old Testament’, JTS 41 (1940), pp. 237-51 (237ff.); and H.E. Ryle, Philo and Holy Scripture (London: Macmillan, 1895). Cf. this ratio with the proportion in the Mishnah, 350:150 (according to Danby’s index). The midrash Bereshit Rabbah contains more than 1,000 references to nonPentateuchal biblical books. 63. All the quotations of Philo’s works are according to LCL. 64. See also Quo Deus 136 which refers to the same biblical verse. 65. Probably a dittography. See Japhet, Ideology, p. 318 n. 373, and the bibliography cited there; see also BHS. 66. For Philo the LXX version was divinely inspired (see Vit. Mos. 2.34-40). For the use and status of LXX in Philo’s exegesis, see Y. Amir, ‘Philo and the Bible’, Studia Philonica 2 (1973), pp. 1-8; V. Nikiprowetzky, Le commentaire de l’écriture chez Philon d’ Alexandrie (Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1977), pp. 51ff. 67. In Philo’s work there is no clear mention of Ruth, Esther, Daniel, Lamentations, Canticles, most of the Minor Prophets, Ezra, Ecclesiastes and probably also of Ezekiel (see Spec. Leg. 3.32 – the reference is probably to Lev. 18.19 and not to Ezek. 18.6). This fact does not rule out their canonicity, and, for instance, compare with the absence of any reference to Job, to Nehemiah, and to several short books like Zephaniah and Nahum in the Mishnah. Were these books non-canonical in 200 CE? 68. See C.R. Holladay, Fragments from Hellenistic Jewish Authors: Historians (4 vols.; Chico, CA: Scholars Press, 1983), I, pp. 93ff.; Schürer, History of the Jewish People, III, pp. 517ff; F. Fallon, ‘Eupolemus’, in Charlesworth (ed.), Old Testament Pseudepigrapha, II, pp. 861-72 (861-63); Attridge, ‘Historiography’, pp.162-65; B.Z. Wacholder, Eupolemus: A Study of Judaeo-Greek Literature (Cincinnati, New York, Los Angeles, Jerusalem: HUC JIR, 1974). For the texts and translations, see Holladay, Fragments, I, pp. 108-35. 69. See Holladay, Fragments, I, pp. 112-56 and esp. Holladay’s annotations to the extant passages (Holladay, Fragments, I, pp. 136-56). See also, Fallon, ‘Eupolemus’, pp. 865-72. For the original title of the work see Holladay, Fragments, I, p. 100 n. 7. 70. For instance, according to the passage in Eusebius’ Praeparatio Evangelica (hereafter Praep. Evang.) 9.30.8, Solomon became king when he was 12 years old, as in the LXX version of 1 Kgs 1.12 (for the proposal that Eupolemus provides an independent testimony to LXX version, see Holladay, Fragments, I, pp. 142); and note the reference to the 48 bronze pillars that supported the portico on the north side of the


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Temple (Praep. Evang. 34.9; see also Holladay, Fragments, I, pp. 149 n. 83; cf. LXX 4 Kgdms 3.31). For Eupolemus’ use of the LXX version of Chronicles, see L.C. Allen, The Greek Chronicles (2 vols.; SVT, 25 and 27; Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1974), I, p.11f. 71. E.g., according to Eupolemus’ passage in Praep. Evang. 9.30.3 (see Holladay, Fragments, I, p. 140 n. 20), David subdued also the Assyrians, the Phoenicians, the Itureans, the Nabateans, and the Nabdeans. 72. E.g., the dimensions of the Temple (Praep. Evang. 9.34.4) contradict those mentioned in both the deuteronomic history and Chronicles, as well as the LXX version of them, as well as Josephus (see Wacholder, Eupolemus, pp. 176f.; Holladay, Fragments, I, p. 148 n. 70). 73. E.g., according to Chronicles, the preparations for the construction of the Temple were begun in the days of David (see 1 Chron. 22.2-5, 14f.; 29.2-5) but David could not build the Temple because he has ‘shed so much blood’ (1 Chron. 22.8). This information is clearly reflected in Praep. Evang. 9.30.5-6. It is worth noting that Eupolemus’ passage contained additional information that does not occur in any biblical source. Another example of non-parallel information is the mention of Joppa and Jerusalem in Praep. Evang. 9.34.4 (see 2 Chron. 2.15; cf. the ‘parallel’ account in 1 Kgs 5.23). 74. E.g., according to Praep. Evang. 9.34.2 (Holladay, Fragments, I, p. 147 n. 62; cf. the passage in Clement of Alexandria, Stromata 1.21.130.3 [Holladay, Fragments, I, pp. 114, 138 n. 9]), the mother of the master builder who was sent to Solomon was from Dan as in 2 Chron. 2.13f. She was from Naphtali according to 1 Kgs 7.13f. Also, it is worth noting that the notice in the deuteronomistic history concerning Israelite working forces that were sent to Hiram’s kingdom (1 Kgs 5.27f.) is omitted in Chronicles, as well as in Eupolemus. Moreover, Praep. Evang. 9.34.4, Stromata 1.21.130.3 and 1 Chron. 2.16f. point to the existence of a non-Israelite working force in the days of Solomon. However, they disagree about its ethnic composition. Praep. Evang. 9.34.4 may have been an inversion of 1 Kgs 5.27 (like the Chronicler’s inversion of 1 Kgs 9.1113, see 2 Chron. 8.2). This probable inversion is congruent with Eupolemus’ desire to ‘glorify’ Solomon (for Eupolemus’ tendency to glorify Israel and its heroes, see Holladay, Fragments, I, p. 102f. n. 22). 75. ‫‘ ;פסילי אלהיהם תשרפון באש‬The graven images of their gods you shall burn with fire’ (RSV). 76. Cf. Ant. 9.188 and compare it with the source 2 Chron. 25.11. 77. Cf. Ant. 6.359 and compare it with its source 1 Sam. 30.7. 78. For a full discussion of Josephus’ treatment of the biblical accounts in the Antiquities see H.W. Attridge, The Interpretation of Biblical History in the Antiquitates Judaicae of Flavius Josephus (HDR, 7; Missoula, MT: Scholars Press, 1976). 79. Mainly proto-Luc. for Samuel-Kings. See Attridge, ‘Historiography’, and the bibliography cited there. 80. E.g., the ‘molten calf’ narrative in Exod. 32.1ff. Alternatively, Josephus changed problematic expressions, for instance cf. Ant. 6.155 with 1 Sam. 15.33; and Ant. 6.198 with 1 Sam. 18.25, where 600 heads replaced the biblical 100 foreskins. 81. E.g., according to Ant. 9.253 Ahaz brought the royal treasuries, the silver of the Temple, etc., to Tiglath-Pilesser, to Damascus; according to the biblical narrative (2 Kgs 16.7f.), he sent them before he went to Damascus (2 Kgs 16.10).

268


82. E.g., see the account of the Cushite expedition of Moses (Ant. 2.242) which is also mentioned in Artapanus (for Artapanus’ text, see Holladay, Fragments, I, p. 210f.). For the traditions about this campaign, see T. Rajak, ‘Moses in Ethiopia: Legend and Literature’, JJS 29 (1978), pp. 111-22. For the general issue, see Attridge, Interpretation of Biblical History, p. 33ff. 83. The sudden end of the extant MSS of Pseudo-Philo’s Liber Antiquitatum Biblicarum with Saul’s death does not suggest that Pseudo-Philo was intended to be a ‘companion’ to Chronicles (for such a proposal see the bibliography cited in Schürer, History of the Jewish People, III, p. 326 n. 10), but that the end of the book has been lost (see D.J. Harrington, ‘Pseudo-Philo’, Old Testament Pseudepigrapha, II, pp. 297-377 [298]). 84. Concerning its general importance, see above. 85. It is noteworthy that even the LXX version of Chronicles tends to reconcile the MT Chronicles with the book of Kings on some important issues, e.g., the explanation of the downfall of Judah; see LXX 2 Chron. 35.19. On this issue, see Williamson, Israel, p. 19f. 86. According to Lev. R. 3.1, ‘R. Simon in the name of R. Joshua b. Levi, and R. Hana, the father of R. Hoshaiah in the name of Rab, said,‫“( לא נתנו דברי הימים אלא לידרש‬the book of Chronicles was given only to be expounded midrashically”)’. According to Ruth R. 2.1, ‘R. Simon, the father of R. Joshua b. Levi, and R. Hana, the father of R. Hoshea, in the name of Rabbi, said the same’, (cf. b. Meg. 13 a). My thanks are due to Carol Newsom for her careful reading of earlier drafts of the first incarnation of this chapter, for her helpful suggestions and for encouraging me to write it. John H. Hayes also aided me in this endeavor.

Part IV CHRONICLES AND LITERATURE: LITERARY CHARACTERIZATIONS THAT CONVEY THEOLOGICAL WORLDVIEWS AND SHAPE STORIES ABOUT THE PAST

Chapter 13 WHEN A FOREIGN MONARCH SPEAKS*

1. Introduction Several works have addressed the royal speeches in the book of Chronicles, typically focusing on the speeches of the Judahite and Israelite kings.1 This tendency is not surprising since (1) the immense majority of royal speeches in Chronicles are set in the mouths of these kings;2 (2) Israel (or Judah) and Jerusalem are at the center of the book;3 and (3) foreign monarchs are referred to only insofar as they interact with Israel or Judah and never in terms of their own importance.4 The present article, however, deals with the speech of non-Israelite monarchs. In five cases the narrator in Chronicles presents the narratee with the (subjective) perspective of a foreign monarch as expressed in the monarch’s own words, be this in oral or written form. In other words, five times in the book of Chronicles the narrator directly transmits the speech of a foreign monarch or quotes a document written by a foreign ruler.5 These direct quotations serve as strong indicators of the character of the person quoted.6 As such, the quotations shed considerable light on the world of knowledge and worldview held by the foreign monarchs, as well as on their use of language as characters within the world of the book.7 Significantly, the information so provided has clear bearings on the ideology or theology that is reflected and shaped by the relevant pericopes in the book of Chronicles and by the book as a whole. Thus, this work is a contribution to the study of a larger topic, namely the characterization of foreign monarchs (and indirectly, or at the connoted level, the theological construction of foreign nations and of the ‘other’ in general)8 in the book of Chronicles. Since this larger topic is not feasible within the limits of a single article, the present study focuses on a particular subset of characterizations of foreign monarchs, namely those communicated by direct speech. This subset has been chosen because of particular features associated with the direct representation of these ‘foreign’ characters in the book, from their own subjective perspective and

13. When a Foreign Monarch Speaks

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through their own words, thoughts and feelings.9 Recourse to direct speech in the narrative serves to communicate a sense of immediacy (and a related sense of authenticity) to both the narratee and the intended rereadership of the book. The communicated senses carry affective claims. In fact, the direct representation mentioned is most likely to contribute to a positive identification of the original rereaders of the book of Chronicles with the characters in the book, provided that these characters share the theological position and ideals of the omniscient and reliable narrator present in the text, as was likely understood by the communities of rereaders for whom it was written (in which case they serve the rhetorical goals of the narrator well). Alternatively, they may evoke a strong sense of distance between the character and themselves, when the character’s speech is crafted so as to condemn the speaker in the most unequivocal terms (from the viewpoint of the narrator and anyone who accepts the worldview advocated by the narrator).10 Finally, recourse to direct speech in the narrative serves to enhance credibility, which in the case of a work such as the book of Chronicles may suggest that substantial issues are at stake. By way of concluding this introductory section, it must be noticed that in some instances in which the narrator in Chronicles presents the direct speech of a foreign monarch, the text is strongly influenced by parallel texts in the deuteronomistic history.11 So it is true that some of the considerations and conclusions advanced here may resonate in future studies that address similar issues in the deuteronomistic history. In fact, for reasons that will be discussed below in section 3, this situation is not totally unexpected. Yet given that this is a study of a subset of characters who exist in the book of Chronicles, the analysis must proceed within the world of Chronicles. In this regard, the following considerations should be underscored: (1) neither the narrator nor the narratee (nor the quotee) in the world of the book is aware of parallel texts in Samuel, Kings, Ezra or anywhere; (2) the intended rereaders of the book of Chronicles are neither asked to skip these texts nor consider them less integrally part of the book of Chronicles than any ‘non-parallel’ section; and (3) if the world of knowledge of the rereadership for whom the book of Chronicles was composed included an awareness of parallel accounts in other literary works within their repertoire – as is usually assumed, and with good reason – then it is much more likely that the memory of another similar and clearly congruent story would strengthen rather than weaken the message conveyed by the story in Chronicles. Likewise, the redactional-critical question of whether some of the texts discussed here, or even any of them, are to be attributed (originally) to ‘the Chronicler’12 or to a different source13 carries

272


no real weight for the purpose of the present study, because the narrator in the book certainly does not know of the existence of ‘the Chronicler’, nor is the narratee addressed by ‘the Chronicler’. Moreover, neither the intended nor the original rereadership of the book of Chronicles is addressed by ‘the Chronicler’ but by the implied author of the book of Chronicles. This author included in the text both the material that is often attributed to ‘the Chronicler’ in modern research and material that is associated with that person’s sources. 2. Gathering the Data: The Five Instances of Direct Speech in which the Speaker Is a Foreign Monarch 2.1. Huram’s Letter to Solomon (2 Chronicles 2.10-15) Huram’s words are a written response to Solomon’s previous message to him (2 Chron. 2.2-9).14 Solomon’s message advances a request for an artisan (v. 6) and timber (vv. 7-8), and it specifies a certain compensation (v. 9). The request itself is prefaced by a relatively long introduction (vv. 2-4), whose role in the world of the text is to persuade Huram to fulfill Solomon’s request. Following the quotation of Solomon’s speech, the narrator cites the written response sent by Huram, to which the narrator, significantly, claims to have access. The text cited begins with a praise of YHWH, David, Solomon and Israel (vv. 10-11) and then moves to Huram’s acceptance of the request and finally to some of the details involved in the operation (vv. 12-15).15 For the purposes of this chapter several aspects of the exchange between Huram and Solomon are noteworthy. First, Solomon is described as attempting to persuade Huram to help him build a great (‫ )גדול‬house for the name of YHWH (vv. 3-4) by stressing that ‫‘( גדול אלהינו מכל־האלהים‬our God is greater than all other gods’). This is a quotation from Exod. 18.11, with the difference that the term ‘YHWH’ is replaced with ‘our God’. From the point of view of the book of Chronicles, this change seems to call attention to and reinforce the message about the incomparability of ‘our God’ to ‘all other gods’, by referring to both with the same noun. Significantly, the text seems explicitly to exclude Huram as non-Israelite. Solomon’s message conveys to him that the incomparable god is ‘our [i.e., Israel’s] God’, not yours (i.e., Tyre’s) god. The fact that the character Solomon is described as having this belief about YHWH is certainly expected, but this quotation from Solomon’s speech already points to his perception of Huram. After all, he is attempting to persuade Huram (an ally, not a vassal, nor anyone who may potentially be counted as an Israelite within


273

the world of the book of Chronicles)16 to help him in his religious endeavors by stating YHWH is (1) our god and not yours; and (2) a god far superior to any divine being, including your own gods. Was the Solomon of Chronicles correct in his understanding of the character of Huram of Chronicles? Huram’s response, as we will see, answers that question in the affirmative. In addition, as far as Solomon’s perception of Huram within the world of Chronicles is concerned, it is worth noting that Solomon considers Huram a worthy partner for theological reflection on the reasonability of building a house for one who cannot be contained even by the ‘highest heavens’17 or for reflection about Solomon’s own role in the building project (2 Chron. 2.5 MT). Significantly, Solomon is presented as a wise and reliable character in this narrative. Huram opens his response to Solomon by stating that Solomon’s kingship is the result or an expression of ‫( אהבת יהוה את־עמו‬YHWH’s love of his people; v. 10). It should be stressed already at this point in the discussion that (1) within the world of the book of Chronicles the queen of Sheba, who most likely never read Huram’s missive to Solomon, repeated almost verbatim Huram’s written words (2 Chron. 9.8); and (2) YHWH’s love for Israel is explicitly mentioned only twice in Chronicles. In both instances those who mentioned YHWH’s love for Israel are foreign monarchs who speak from their own perspective.18 Huram’s reference to YHWH’s love of Israel explains why Solomon is worthy of building the house for the name of the YHWH. It also communicates an important feature in the Tyrian king’s perspective: he fully accepts that YHWH has a particular relationship with Israel (and not with Tyre or any other nation). But who is YHWH according to Huram? After the opening of the letter in v. 10 (just discussed), the narrator reappears and restates that the speaker is Huram. This ‘unnecessary’ second intervention of the narrator serves to focus attention on the identity of the quotee, his non-Israelite status and his royal position. Yet it is Huram, the king of Tyre, who writes to Solomon ‫ברוך יהוה אלהי ישראל‬ ‫‘( אשר עשה את השמים ואת הארץ‬blessed be YHWH, the God of Israel who made heaven and earth’). Thus, the king of Tyre reaffirms (1) the unique status of YHWH, by pointing to creation theology (a point not explicitly advanced by Solomon in his original message); and (2) YHWH’s unique relation to Israel. Moreover, Huram’s writing style even becomes reminiscent of Pss. 115.15; 121.2; 124.4; 134.3; 146.6. Huram’s reference to Solomon as the expected son of David in v. 11b does not actually follow Solomon’s words in vv. 2-9, nor may the knowledge suggested by this reference be derived from them. Huram’s words

274


are, however, reminiscent of Nathan’s oracle and of David’s retelling of that oracle to Solomon (see, in particular, 1 Chron. 17.11-12; 22.10, 12; notice that the pair ‫ בינה‬and ‫[ שׂכל‬NRSV, ‘discretion’ and ‘understanding’] occurs in 1 Chron. 22.12 and 2 Chron. 2.11 but nowhere else in Chronicles, or the Hebrew Bible for that matter).19 Thus Huram is construed in the world of the text as one who is aware of and fully convinced of the validity and worthiness of that oracle, just as an Israelite should have been according to Chronicles. Although Solomon requires a skilled artisan he does not advance any requirements regarding his ‘ethnic’ background. Huram, however, cares to provide one whose mother is a Danite20 and his father is a Tyrian. Since, within the world of Chronicles, Huram rules over Tyrians not Israelites during Solomon’s days, he cannot send an Israelite. So he sends a person who is the closest to an Israelite that a Tyrian could be.21 The literary (or rhetorical) effect created by Huram’s decision (as expressed in this letter) to send a skilled artisan bearing the same name is difficult to miss. The sharing of the name ‘Huram’ enhances the association of the king and his representative in Solomon’s project.22 From the viewpoint of the narratee and the rereaders of the book of Chronicles, later references to Huram, the artisan, in 2 Chron. 4.11, 16 likely evoke the image of the artisan and the person whom he represents. Huram’s speech in vv. 13-14 carries echoes of the text in Exod. 35.31-35, a point made by Japhet in her recent discussion of the verses. She is likely correct that the Chronicler was influenced by Exod. 31.31-35.23 But one must keep in mind that the words in vv. 13-14 are presented to the rereader as coming from Huram, and accordingly, they contribute strongly to his characterization. In other words, the rereaders of the book of Chronicles are presented with a king of Tyre whose voice echoes the Torah, or at the very least an authoritative text such as Exodus. In sum, Huram emerges as a foreign monarch who accepts the Israelite view of YHWH as creator, preeminent above all gods (including the Tyrian gods) and one who ‘loves’ Israel. He also holds that Israel (as opposed to any other people, including Tyrians) is ‘YHWH’s people’. Huram is also fully convinced of a divinely ordained role for Solomon, and is most eager to associate himself with him in the building of a great house for YHWH. Finally, Huram’s language also resonates with authoritative (later to be ‘biblical’) texts extant within the putative world of his day. So Huram presents himself in this pericope as someone who seems aware of these texts, their language and even their status among the Israelites, as well as one who is convinced of their theological validity.


275

Since in principle the words of a character may or may not be presented as reliable in a narrative,24 one has to ask whether the narrator (and the intended audience) considered Huram’s characterization of himself in this letter to be reliable. The general context of his speech in the book of Chronicles strongly suggests that he was truthful in his letter. If so, he is a foreign monarch whose foreignness is, on the one hand, stressed (he is the king of Tyre), but at the same time substantially blurred by his speech. His theological viewpoint, thoughts and language are characteristics of pious Israelites in the world of Chronicles. He is a liminal figure, a Tyrian in whom the worldview and words of a ‘pious Israelite theologian’ (similar to the implied author of Chronicles) seems to reverberate.25 2.2. The Speech of the Queen of Sheba (2 Chronicles 9.5-8) In one of the pericopes of the extended narrative about Solomon in Chronicles, the queen of Sheba is the main character, along with Solomon of course.26 Yet from the perspective of a general overview of Solomon’s narrative, she is a secondary character that comes to the forefront, interacts with Solomon, and disappears as soon as her literary role is fulfilled – namely, once her interaction with Solomon reinforces the characterization of the latter as a great, wise king, and conveys the message that YHWH is the one to whom Israel should be thankful for such a great king. In this case, the narrator allows her to advance her own perspective on the king (this is a typical case of focalization), so as to reinforce the narrator’s characterization of Solomon. Her described astonishment at Solomon’s wisdom, court foods, temple service as well as the precious presents that she gives to him all serve this purpose. Yet by acknowledging the supreme wisdom of Solomon, she is characterized too. She stands side by side with the narrator and with any ancient Israelite rereader of the text who accepts the reliability of the narrator or the greatness of Solomon and who associates this greatness with YHWH’s blessing over Israel. In fact, the narrator, the queen of Sheba and the mentioned rereaders all share a common appreciation of Solomon; his wisdom and the order created by Solomon (see v. 4). The fact that the narrator in the world of the text and the original rereadership of the book of Chronicles identify with her evaluation of the Israelite king (and of YHWH) strongly suggests a positive characterization of the queen of Sheba in the text. Additional indicators reinforce this positive characterization. For instance, the words of (such a worthy character as) Huram to Solomon reverberate in her speech (see v. 8). It is not only that both speeches propose a divine role in the selection of Solomon as king over Israel, but

276


also that these are the only two occasions in which one finds a clear and explicit statement of YHWH’s love (‫ )אהבה‬of Israel in the book of Chronicles. It is also worth noting that from the perspective of the queen of Sheba, YHWH made Solomon king that he may execute ‫משׁפט וצדקה‬ (‘justice and righteousness’). Moreover, she also blesses YHWH for establishing Israel for ever (‫להעמידו לעולם‬, v. 8; cf. 1 Kgs 15.4 and 1 Chron. 17.4). All this taken into account and given that the narrator presents the speech of the queen of Sheba as reliable and truthful,27 there can be no reasonable doubt that her perspective is affirmed by the narrator and the intended rereadership. In sum, the queen of Sheba is presented in the same way as Huram: a foreign monarch whose perspective and speech are similar to those of a pious Israelite in the world of Chronicles. Her foreignness is, of course, an essential attribute: she comes from afar, hears in her own country of Solomon’s fame (vv. 1, 5) and affirms his legitimacy to that fame as a superior monarch (note her extravagant gifts to him, a feature that carries at least some connotation of hierarchy [v. 9] and their asymmetric exchange of gifts). Yet, just as in the case of Huram, her foreignness is blurred, because her theological viewpoint, thoughts and language are characteristic of pious Israelites in the world of Chronicles. She is another liminal figure, a Shebaite with whom a ‘pious Israelite theologian’ seems to resonate. 2.3. Sennacherib’s Speech (2 Chronicles 32.10-15) Unlike all other foreign monarchs whose words are presented as direct speech in Chronicles, Sennacherib is a villain in the story, and his speech leads to his defeat and death. The speech attributed to him and the narrator’s subsequent account in vv. 16-19 reinforce each other and explain what sort of villain Sennacherib is – or better, what stands for villainy. In this case, the main issue is the acceptance and promotion of a theological position that holds YHWH, the god of Israel, to be in the same conceptual category as the gods of other nations (see vv. 14, 17, 19; and contrast, e.g., with the ‘conversation’ between Huram and Solomon discussed in 2.1). Within the world of Chronicles, such villains do not succeed. Sennacherib also seems to believe that he and the previous Assyrian kings – rather than the Assyrian gods – have achieved victories over other (non-Assyrian) gods and will surely overcome YHWH’s opposition (because YHWH is just another ‘national’ god). There is more than a hint of the long ancient Near Eastern tradition of describing the enemy as a hubristic king or a person who challenges the will of the gods and against all reason


277

thinks that they can be successful in their endeavor.28 Of course, the topos is well known, and when readers find it, they have the clear expectation that the offending character will be punished and their endeavor fail. This expectation is fulfilled in the narrative, but it is worth stressing that here Hezekiah and Isaiah have to pray before the villain meets his fate. Thus the issue is not only what stands for villainy, but also how to confront villainy, especially that embodied in a ruler who commands powerful forces. Sennacherib’s address is a typical case of direct speech at the service of the characterization and condemnation of a (negative) character, ‘with their own words’ as it were. Here direct speech does not lead to the identification of the rereaders with the speaker but is meant to create a strong sense of distance and rejection of the speaker and his perspective.29 In fact, the strongly ironic (from the perspective of the narrator) speech of Sennacherib elicits an inversion of identification: the intended rereaders are likely to identify with an ‘anti-Sennacherib’, that is with one who thinks exactly the opposite to Sennacherib. It is important to note that Sennacherib’s speech serves not only to characterize Sennacherib and to shape an ‘anti-Sennacherib’, but also to characterize Hezekiah in a way similar to that anti-Sennacherib figure. Hezekiah is explicitly presented in Sennacherib’s speech as one who (1) trusts in YHWH (and not in his own military power, vv. 10-11); (2) centralizes the cult (vv. 12-13), which is a most positive feature from the viewpoint of the narrator and the intended rereadership of the book of Chronicles; and (3) certainly does not think that YHWH is like the other gods (vv. 14-15). Thus, Sennacherib’s words serve to confirm and reinforce the narrator’s explicit characterization of Hezekiah elsewhere in 2 Chronicles 29–32 and serve to elicit further identification with the character of this pious king of Judah, one of the main heroes of the book of Chronicles.30 Finally, it is worth noting that although Sennacherib’s speech is surely ironic, it is obvious that it is not presented as deceitful from the perspective of the speaker. In this regard, the intended rereadership is provided by a reliable narrator with a trustworthy speech. In fact, this reliability is a necessary condition for the condemnation of Sennacherib, the glorification of Hezekiah and the communication of the theological import of the text. 2.4. Neco’s Words to Josiah (2 Chronicles 35.21) In the case of Neco, the king of Egypt,31 it is he who admonishes Josiah, the king of Judah, not to oppose God (‫)אלהים‬. But as the narrator explains in the next verse, Josiah would not listen to the words of Neco, which are

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now explicitly presented by the reliable narrator of Chronicles as ‫מפי אלהים‬ (‘from the mouth of God’; see 2 Chron. 35.22 and cf. 2 Chron. 36.12 and Jer. 23.16).32 Thus the narrator not only certifies the reliability of Neco’s words, but also characterizes him as a person who (1) conveys God’s words, namely, a person who fulfills the role of a prophet, as some kings of Judah did;33 and (2) is fully aware that the word of God must be obeyed. Further, according to Neco’s words – characterized as from the mouth of God – God is with Neco. In Chronicles this expression and the status that it conveys are usually associated with pious kings of Judah or Israel (see 1 Chron. 17.2; 22.20; 2 Chron. 1.1; 15.9). In sum, the foreignness of king Neco is explicitly mentioned (and perhaps subtly connoted by the consistent use of the word ‫ אלהים‬rather than YHWH),34 but it is also blurred by the narrative, because his role and words are similar to those of a pious Israelite in the world of Chronicles. Significantly, both of the two last ‘godly’ addresses in Chronicles are placed in the mouth of foreign monarchs: one in that of Neco, king of Egypt, here in 2 Chron. 35.31, and the other in that of Cyrus, king of Persia.35 Significantly, Persia and Egypt are the two main foreign powers from the perspective of Achaemenid Yehud. 2.5. Cyrus’ Edict (2 Chronicles 36.23) The fifth and last instance in which the text presents the perspective of a foreign king by means of direct speech consists of a version of the wellknown and much discussed decree of Cyrus.36 A few observations are in order. First, the quoted (Cyrus) is presented as someone who refers to YHWH as ‘God of heaven’ (‫)אלהי השׁמים‬. Although this expression is found nowhere else in the book of Chronicles, it is certain that Achaemenidperiod Judahites, with whom one must associate the rereadership for which Chronicles was composed, would have accepted such an identification (see Gen. 24.3, 7; Jon. 1.9; Ezra 1.2 [//2 Chron. 36.23]; Neh. 1.4, 5; 2.4, 20). In addition, the foreign king attributes to YHWH the royal victories over ‘all the kingdoms of the earth’ (‫ ;כל־ממלכות הארץ‬for the expression, see, e.g., Deut. 28.25; Isa. 23.17; cf. 1 Chron. 29.30; 2 Chron. 17.10; 20.6, 29). This position and the worldview that it suggests is consistent with the sentiment expressed, for instance, in 2 Kgs 19.15//Isa. 37.16) and with what the figure of Isaiah – as it was understood by the community of rereaders – would have expected Cyrus (i.e., YHWH’s anointed) to acknowledge (see Isa. 45.13).37 In addition, this foreign monarch claims that YHWH has commanded him to build a house of YHWH in Jerusalem (cf. 1 Chron. 22.6; and within the larger discourse of a community of rereaders aware of the book of Isaiah, see Isa. 44.28).


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To be sure, Cyrus is explicitly and emphatically presented as a foreign, as a Persian, monarch. His reference to ‘Jerusalem, which is in Judah’ reinforces his characterization as foreigner,38 which is itself, of course, consistent with historical memories. In addition, though, it also serves to shape the figure of the king who acknowledges the validity of the theology of the Jerusalemite center. Although Cyrus is unequivocally presented as a non-Judahite, his otherness is consistently blurred, because he understands (1) YHWH as the high god;39 (2) his good fortune as the result of YHWH’s will and (3) that he is supposed to do what YHWH has commanded him to do (which, in fact, he does).40 As a divinely chosen ‘builder’ of the temple, his image reflects some of the lustre of the glorious reigns of David and Solomon, and in any case, in this role as temple builder, he takes upon himself with the narrator’s (and the intended audience’s) full approval one of the most important roles ever allocated to the Davidic dynasty.41 3. Synthesis and General Conclusions Although the instances discussed in this chapter represent only some of the characterizations of foreign kings in the book of Chronicles, they are important. First, these are the only characterizations of foreign monarchs that are shaped through direct speech. As mentioned above, the direct representation of these biblical characters from their own subjective perspectives and through their own words, thoughts and feelings carries a sense of immediacy to both the narratee and the intended rereadership of the book. Moreover, when the characters are presented as sharing the theological position and ideals of the omniscient and reliable narrator, as is the case in four of the five instances discussed above, the presence of direct speech contributes to the rereaders’ positive identification with the characters and enhances the credibility of the text. This being so, one may ask about the purpose achieved by these characterizations, and especially so, given that the main aim of Chronicles (and its narrator) is to convey certain theological messages and to shape a memory of the past that serves to advance them. In other words, one may ask, ‘Why would the authorial voice be construed so as to elicit this sense of positive identification and enhanced credibility among the intended rereadership in these particular cases of foreign monarchs?’ One may begin to answer this question by noting that this study article clearly shows that in all these instances the quoted speech of the foreign monarch reinforces the rhetorical appeal of the relevant texts. In addition, the speech supports the theological message of the narrator and of the authorial voice.

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Given the research goals and parameters of this article, it is worth stressing that all the relevant texts characterize foreign monarchs in a reliable manner, within the world of the book.42 Once one turns to the main features of these reliable characterizations, it becomes evident that they reflect a tension between (1) a foreignness that is essential to the characters (otherwise they will not be foreign monarchs at all); and (2) a clear tendency to ‘Israelize’ their subjective viewpoint and to convey a sense of ‘sameness’ in the human world populated by Israelites and foreigners. It is not only that these alien monarchs all speak ‘typical’ Hebrew,43 but, even more significantly, that their words include allusions to biblical Hebrew texts and expressions – a fact that seems to imply that the quotees were imagined as aware of the latter and of their ‘authority’ within the Israel of their times. Moreover, four out five of them uphold positions (and behaviors) that are expected of ‘pious’ Israelites.44 Of course, a tendency to ‘Israelize’ or ‘appropriate’ the foreigner is only to be expected in a book written in Achaemenid Yehud dealing with Israel and Israelite theology that ‘contains no reference to the nations in their own right’45 and written within and for a Yehudite and mostly Jerusalemite rereadership. Nevertheless, it is clear that such foreign monarchs may be appropriated in positive, negative or neutrally valued ways, and appropriated characters may or may not be assigned important roles in the narrative. This article has revealed several things. First, four out of five of the aforementioned foreign monarchs are construed for the rereadership as positive characters and so are unequivocally supported by an authoritative, reliable narrator. Secondly, as often occurs in theological presentations of interactions between ‘insiders’ and ‘outsiders’, the value of the latter from the viewpoint of the former depends on the degree to which the other or foreigner resembles the insider. In the cases discussed in this chapter, all good foreign monarchs must remain ‘foreigners’ to some extent, but at the same time, they are ‘Israelized’ in a substantial manner (see above, section 2). Yet the characterization of these monarchs as (partially) ‘Israelized’ figures is itself a significant feature. Thirdly, these characters never evolve into stereotyped, flat figures of a ‘type’ (namely, the ‘foreign monarch’). The opposite is true as well: each character develops his or her own clearly distinctive voice and is located in an individual setting (within the world of the book) that is not shared by the other foreign monarchs. Fourthly, although the characters themselves serve supportive roles in the characterization of Israelites (e.g., Solomon) or corroborate the narrator’s presentation and point of view, significant roles are allocated to them in the narrative itself and in the explicit communication of theological messages.


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One may mention, for instance, (1) the only two references in Chronicles to the widely accepted idea in postmonarchic communities that YHWH loves Israel are conveyed by two of these foreign monarchs; (2) the last two godly messages conveyed to Israel or to its proper king are assigned to the two main powers dealing with the Jerusalemite/Yehudite polity in the Achaemenid period; and (3) one of these foreign monarchs (the Persian) is directly associated with the building of the temple. Even if, for the sake of the argument, one were to assert that all features just summarized are coincidental, resulting from the inclusion of diverse written sources in Chronicles and, consequently, that no message was meant to be communicated by the Chronicler, it would still be impossible to maintain this with regard to the implied author (or narrator) of the book of Chronicles (as opposed to the Chronicler). Moreover, if one accepts that ‘the meanings’ of a text are negotiated through the interaction of the readers (in this case, the rereaders) and the text,46 then one has to accept that ‘the meanings’ of Chronicles for a community of rereaders in Achaemenid period Jerusalem47 included the construction of a theologically construed world in which the aforementioned characterizations played a role. If those rereaders identified themselves with that world, as one would expect, then they assumed that foreign monarchs (and by implication, foreigners in general) have at least the potential for piety. From these accounts, the rereadership learns that foreign monarchs (and by implication all people) have at least the potential to acknowledge and recognize the supreme deity of YHWH along with the elevated status of Israel/ Judah/Jerusalem vis à vis ‘the nations’ (see the words of Huram and the queen of Sheba, and perhaps those of Cyrus, too) – to be partially Israelized and, accordingly, to be able to play a positive role in YHWH’s economy.48 These positions are consistent with the views regarding a future in which the nations will come to acknowledge YHWH and the role of Zion/Jerusalem and Israel (cf., e.g., Isa. 2.2-3; Mic. 4.2-3;49 Zech. 8.21-22).50 This feature is associated with a hope of a reversal of the present situation of these communities. Moreover, it also reflects a certain need to bring ‘the other’ to confirm one’s position, a feature that is common in literary works that deal with the construction of social identities. A final observation: the construction of positive images of foreign kings in general and particularly those of Egypt and Persia towards the end of the book, along with the explicit association of the building of the temple with a Persian king (rather than a Davidide) in the last verse of the book,

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cannot but reflect political perspectives within the post-monarchic community(ies) for which and within which the book of Chronicles was composed. It is worth noting in this regard that within the perspective of such (a) community(ies), the meanings conveyed by the texts discussed here are clearly consistent with the idea that the principal kings of the area are not necessarily evil, nor do they necessarily oppose the will of YHWH (i.e., just as Davide kings varied in their piety). In particular, the concluding reference to Cyrus suggests not only that the rule of foreign kings over Jerusalem is not necessarily a bad thing, but, in fact, it seems to raise the possibility that YHWH’s kingship over Jerusalem may be executed by Cyrus.51 This possibility is consistent with references to Cyrus as YHWH’s anointed, and as YHWH’s shepherd (both royal attributes) in Isa. 44.28; 45.1.52 Moreover, these meanings are also consistent with and seem to reflect a particular aspect of the conceptual world of the community. In this respect, a bright future is one in which foreigners will recognize YHWH and the role of Israel in the divine economy.53 From the theological perspective of the postmonarchic community, this amounts to the partial (but substantial) ‘Israelization’ of the world, which in turn reflects the broad sweep of the will of YHWH – not that foreign kings will be overthrown, but that non-Israelites accept the will and instructions of YHWH (see 2 Chron. 2.10-15; 9.5-8; 35.21; 36.23) and that Israel cooperates with them under those circumstances.54 Endnotes * This chapter is a slightly modified version of a contribution that was first published as ‘When a Foreign Monarch Speaks’, in M.P. Graham and S.L. McKenzie (eds.), The Chronicler as Author: Studies in Text and Texture (JSOTSup, 263; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1999), pp. 209-28. I wish to express my gratitude to T&T Clark International/Continuum Press for allowing me to republish this essay in the present volume. 1. See, e.g., M.A. Throntveit, When Kings Speak: Royal Speech and Royal Prayer in Chronicles (SBLDS, 93; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1987); idem, ‘The Chronicler’s Speeches and Historical Reconstruction’, in M.P. Graham, K.G. Hoglund and S.L. McKenzie (eds.), The Chronicler as Historian (JSOTSup, 238; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997), pp. 225-45, esp. 227-32. 2. Comprehensive lists of the speeches in Chronicles, each organized according to a particular category are present in R.K. Duke, The Persuasive Appeal of the Chronicler: A Rhetorical Analysis (Bible and Literature Series, 25; JSOTSup, 88; Sheffield: Almond Press, 1990), pp. 155-76. Only five instances of speeches presented in the direct mode are attributed to foreign monarchs, see below. 3. By ‘Israel’ I mean here the theological construct referred by this name in the


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Jerusalemite-centered discourse of the Achaemenid period. From the perspective of the book of Chronicles, the people of the northern kingdom of Israel (despite their unlawful polity) are to be included in that Israel. On these issues, see H.G.M. Williamson, Israel in the Books of Chronicles (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1977), pp. 87-140; idem, 1 and 2 Chronicles (NCBC; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1982), pp. 24-26; S. Japhet, The Ideology of the Book of Chronicles and its Place in Biblical Thought (BEATAJ, 9; Frankfurt am Main: P. Lang, 2nd rev. edn, 1997), pp. 308-34; cf. G.N. Knoppers, ‘ ‘‘YHWH Is Not with Israel”: Alliances as a Topos in Chronicles’, CBQ 58 (1996), pp. 601-26. From the perspective of Chronicles, however, the only polity, with the will of YHWH in the monarchic period, was that polity formed around a Davidic king and Jerusalem. 4. This is not to deny that other issues – perhaps related to the background of Hebrew Bible scholarship – may have contributed to that tendency as well. The matter is, of course, beyond the scope of this chapter. 5. The narrator’s quotation from a written source (such as a letter from Huram, king of Tyre, to Solomon, see 2 Chron. 2.10) cited here should be differentiated from the (unacknowledged) use of written sources such as the books of Samuel and Kings (or closely related precursors) by the (historical) author(s) of the book of Chronicles. 6. These are typical examples of an indirect presentation of a character. On these issues see, e.g., Shlomith Rimmon-Kenan, Narrative Fiction: Contemporary Poetics (London/New York: Methuen, 1983), pp. 63-65. 7. This world does not necessarily reflect the ‘actual world’ from the perspective of the historical personages outside the ‘world of the book’, whose names are mentioned in that world (e.g., Neco). In fact, it is highly unlikely that the worldview and choice of language of these historical personages would be like those advanced in Chronicles. Yet neither (1) the narratee in the world of the book nor (2) a rereadership of the book of Chronicles that accepts the reliability of the narrator are informed by, nor relate in any way to the most likely viewpoint held by historical figures such as Necho, Sennacherib, or a king of Tyre who ruled many centuries before the composition of the book of Chronicles. This narratee and this rereadership are informed of and interact with the viewpoints of textual characters who populate the universe of the book of Chronicles (i.e., the Chronicler’s Necho, the Chronicler’s Sennacherib and the like). I use the term ‘rereadership’ rather than ‘readership’ (and ‘rereader’ instead of ‘reader’) to draw attention to the fact that it is likely that the book was read more than once by any individual. This is certainly the case, if the book was supposed to be studied (cf. Josh. 1.8; Hos. 14.10). On the importance and implications of rereading I have written elsewhere: A Historical-Critical Study of The Book of Obadiah (BZAW, 242; Berlin/New York: W. de Gruyter, 1996), pp. 4-5, 18-19, 25, 89-90, 260-66; Micah (FOTL, 21b; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000); Signs of Jonah: Reading and Rereading in Ancient Yehud (JSOTSup, 367; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2003). 8. References to foreign monarchs are likely to carry a connoted sense of representation of the larger group; within Chronicles itself see, e.g., 1 Chron. 19.9 (cf. 2 Sam. 9.8) and 2 Chron. 9.22 (cf. 1 Kgs 10.24). This is consistent with the tendency to identify representatives and represented, which in some cases may take the form of an identification of ruler/king and people. This being so, characterizations of foreign monarchs

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may serve (if used with the appropriate caution) as a potential window on the characterization of ‘foreign people’, or, more precisely, of foreign people who live in ‘their own countries’ and do not belong to the ‘community of Israel’. On ‘foreigners and aliens’ living in and among Israel, see Japhet, Ideology, pp. 334-51. 9. Within the world of the book as shaped by the narrator, the words of these characters are consistent with their thoughts and feelings; their speech is truthful and reliable. See n. 10 below. 10. On these issues as they appear in Chronicles, see Duke, Persuasive Appeal, esp. pp. 119, 146; on biblical narrative more generally, see Y. Amit, ‘ “The Glory of Israel Does Not Deceive or Change His Mind”: On the Reliability of Narrator and Speakers in Biblical Narrative’, Prooftexts 12 (1992), pp. 201-12; cf. also the summary in J. Sanders, ‘Perspective in Narrative Discourse’ (unpublished PhD dissertation; Proefschrift Katholieke Universitetit Brabant, Tilburg, 1994), pp. 203-204, and the bibliography cited there; for a broader, narrative perspective and for a comprehensive discussion on ‘quotation’, see M. Sternberg, ‘Proteus in Quotation-Land: Mimesis and the Forms of Reported Discourse’, Poetics Today 3 (1982), pp. 107-56. On general issues associated with ‘focalization’ (or ‘perspective’) – including ideological facets – see, e.g., RimmonKenan[, Narrative Fiction, pp. 71-85. Of course, as in any other case of direct quotation, the question of the reliability (from the perspective of the narrator or one who identifies with the narrator) of the transcribed or cited speech must be taken into account. Moreover, as in cases of characterization by a particular action or speech, the question of whether the indicated character of the personage in the book is temporal or a constant feature in the narrative must also be addressed. See Amit, ‘Glory of Israel’; and cf. Rimmon-Kenan, Narrative Fiction, pp. 61-67. 11. See (1) the letter of Huram to Solomon in 2 Chron. 2.10-15 (cf. 1 Kgs 5.21 + 7.1314 + 5.22); (2) the words of the queen of Sheba to Solomon in 2 Chron. 9.5-8 (cf. 1 Kgs 10.6-9); and (3) Sennacherib’s words to the Judahites in 2 Chron. 32.10-15 (cf. 2 Kgs 18.19-35 and Isa. 36.4-37.15). 12. ‘The Chronicler’ (and note the quotation mark) as used here refers to a reconstruction of the historical persona of an individual who (1) was responsible for the composition of an original book of Chronicles (which is identical to the present book except for later additions whose existence and scope are a source of debate), and (2) to whom are attributed (a) the texts (or most of the texts) in Chronicles that are believed to have no parallel in any source available to ‘the Chronicler’ and (b) instances of rewording of the original sources at his disposal. It is to be stressed that part (2) of this definition in particular creates an inherent differentiation and a most significant distance between ‘the Chronicler’ and the implied author of the book of Chronicles that is much larger in scope than the usual one between an ‘actual’ and an ‘implied’ author, because the texts assigned by this definition to ‘the Chronicler’ are substantially different from those associated with the implied author of the book. 13. Leaving aside the clear cases of deuteronomistic sources, there has been a substantial debate on whether the words of Neco to Josiah in 2 Chron. 35.21 came from the Chronicler. See, e.g., H.G.M. Williamson, ‘Reliving the Death of Josiah’, VT 37 (1987), pp. 9-15; C.T. Begg, ‘The Death of Josiah in Chronicles: Another View’, VT 37


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(1987), pp. 2-8. The proclamation of Cyrus in 2 Chronicles 36 appears also in Ezra 1.23a. There is a tendency not to attribute it to the Chronicler. See, e.g., Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles, p. 419, and see section 2.5 below. 14. Chronicles often refers to written texts (e.g., 1 Chron. 4.41; 28.19; 29.29; 2 Chron. 21.12; 30.1; 32.7) 15. For an analysis of the structure of the pericope see S.J. de Vries, 1 and 2 Chronicles (FOTL, XI; Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1989), pp. 241-42. 16. Solomon does not refer to Huram as a vassal. In Chronicles, Huram’s speech may connote a subjective perspective (i.e., Huram’s) that he is not an equal to Solomon – because of the use of deferential language in vv. 13-14. In a way, it is expected that Huram would see himself inferior (or at a subordinate level from a theological perspective) to Solomon because of Huram’s understanding of the relations linking YHWH, Israel, and the house for the name of YHWH to be built by Solomon (see below in section 3), but this does not mean vassalage. Cf. Japhet, I and II Chronicles (OTL; Louisville, KY; Westminster/John Knox Press, 1993), pp. 545-46. 17. Cf. Deut. 10.14; 1 Kgs 8.27; 2 Chron. 6.18. 18. Cf. Japhet, Ideology, pp. 94-96. 19. The references to YHWH’s Torah, and to statues and ordinances given by YHWH to Moses in 1 Chron. 22.12-13 are not followed in Huram’s speech. The lack of a potential reference, however, is not a solid basis for an argument about the characterization of Huram. Arguments in this article are built upon the presence of clear indications of the character of foreign monarchs. 20. Cf. Exod. 35.34 where the artisan Oholiab from the tribe of Dan is mentioned. See below. 21. Here the child follows the father’s line, because of patrilocality and according to the tendency for wives to be integrated into the household and kin of their husbands. Yet, it has to be stressed that had this artisan not been a Tyrian resident, but someone who lived in and among Israel, according to Chronicles, he would have been an Israelite. See Japhet, Ideology, pp. 346-50. 22. Yet, of course, the king and the artisan cannot be one; Huram, the artisan, is called ‫ חירם‬in 2 Chron. 4.11 (twice) but ‫ חורם אבי‬in 2 Chron. 2.12 and cf. 4.16. 23. Japhet, I and II Chronicles, pp. 544-45. 24. The usual exception is YHWH, whose words (from the viewpoint of the narrator and the original audiences of biblical texts) were considered reliable. See Amit, ‘Glory of Israel’, pp. 201-12, esp. 205. 25. Cf. the sailors in Jonah, who behave and speak as ‘pious Israelites’ are expected to. (On Israelitization of ‘the other’ in Jonah and its limitations as well, see Ben Zvi, Signs of Jonah, pp. 123-26; and in relation to Chronicles, see also Chapter 10). 26. On this particular pericope and its cotexts in the book of Chronicles, see, among others, W. Johnstone, 1 and 2 Chronicles. I. 1 Chronicles 1–2 Chronicles 9. Israel’s Place among the Nations (JSOTSup, 253; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997), pp. 368-74. 27. If this had not been the case, then her speech would not have served the purpose of expressing the greatness of Solomon. 28. Cf. the characterization of Naram-Sin in the Cuthaean Legend of Naram-Sin and the Curse of Agade (see T. Longman III, Fictional Akkadian Autobiography [Winona

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Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 1991], pp. 103-17, 228-31); also B. Oded, War, Peace and Empire: Justifications for War in Assyrian Royal Inscriptions (Wiesbaden: L. Reichert Verlag, 1992), pp. 121-24. 29. Cf. Sternberg, ‘Proteus in Quotation-Land’, pp. 117-19. 30. ‘The space that the Chronicler has devoted to Hezekiah’s story is one way of affirming that Hezekiah is the greatest Judaean monarch after David and Solomon.’ Japhet, I and II Chronicles, p. 912. 31. The book of Chronicles consistently avoids the term ‘pharaoh’, which was certainly known to the intended rereadership and appears many times in the deuteronomistic history, including ‘parallel accounts’. The only instance in which the word ‘pharaoh’ appears is in reference to a ‘daughter of pharaoh’, who married and was controlled by Israelites (see 1 Chron. 4.18; 2 Chron. 8.11. MT 2 Chron. 4.18 is often included in English translations within v. 17 [for this transposition see W. Johnstone, 1 and 2 Chronicles, I, p. 63]). On this verse, see also S. Japhet, I and II Chronicles, pp. 114-15. 32. Needless to say, as expected from the literary/theological topos, Josiah meets his fate. 33. See Y. Amit, ‘The Role of Prophecy and the Prophets in the Teaching of Chronicles’, Beth Mikra 28 (1982/3), pp. 113-33, esp. 121-22 (Hebrew). 34. Cf. R. Mason, Preaching the Tradition (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990), pp. 117-18. Caution is necessary here, though, because in Chronicles as a whole there seems to be no real semantic difference between ‫ אלהים‬and ‫יהוה‬. In fact, the former term tends to replace the latter. For a ‘classical’ discussion of the issue, see Japhet, Ideology, pp. 30-37. 35. ‘It is, perhaps, surprising that the last two addresses are put in the mouths of foreign kings. However, this one from Neco shows that the Davidic line was not necessarily permanent, while that of Cyrus shows that the real goal of God’s purposes was the temple.’ Mason, Preaching the Tradition, p. 118. 36. Given the focus of this chapter on characterization within the world of Chronicles, issues such as the existence and identification of the original source of this decree (to be differentiated from the claim in the text) and its historical reliability (in contemporaneous terms) are not central to the discussion advanced here, unless it is proven that the intended and the actual ancient rereaders of Chronicles reread the book in a mode governed by contemporaneous redactional-critical or historiographical concerns, but this is highly unlikely. For works addressing these concerns see, e.g., E.J. Bickerman, ‘The Edict of Cyrus in Ezra 1’, in E.J. Bickerman (ed.), Studies in Jewish and Christian History (3 vols.; Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1976), I, pp. 72-108; H.G.M. Williamson, Ezra– Nehemiah (WBC, 16; Waco, TX: Word Books, 1985), pp. 3-14; Williamson, 1 and 2 Chronicles, p. 419; L.L. Grabbe, Judaism from Cyrus to Hadrian (2 vols.; Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1991), I, pp. 32-36, and the bibliography mentioned in these works. 37. Cf. Bickerman, ‘Edict of Cyrus’, pp. 80, 95-97. 38. Perhaps the more so, if this wording represents or imitates ‘bureaucratic style’. Cf. Bickerman, ‘Edict of Cyrus’, p. 80. 39. It is also worth noting that whereas Cyrus’ choice of words in the parallel text in Ezra 1.3 (‫מי בכם מכל־עמו יהי אלהיו עמו ויעל‬, which may be understood as ‘anyone of


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you of all his [YHWH’s] people, his god be with him and go up’) might suggest a lack of acknowledgement of the concept of YHWH as ‘the God’, the wording in 2 Chron. 36.23 (‫מי־בכם מכל־עמו יהוה אלהיו עמו ויעל‬,‘anyone of you of all his [YHWH’s] people, may YHWH his god be with him and go up’) clearly does not, because this is a blessing formula. On these issues, see Bickerman, ‘Edict of Cyrus’, pp. 81-82. On other substantial aspects of the end of the book of Chronicles see Chapter 10 and bibliography there. 40. Cf. the situation in the encounter between Neco and Josiah discussed above in 2.4. 41. On this matter see also Chapter 2. The conclusion of the book of Chronicles is discussed, though from different perspectives, also in Chapters 7 and 10. 42. Significantly, all the speeches discussed here are presented as reliable from the perspective of the individual speaker and the narrator of the book of Chronicles. 43. The foreign origin of speakers may be conveyed by the association of their speech with (actual or ‘fictional’) ethnolects. See, for instance, M. Cheney, Dust, Wind and Agony: Character, Speech and Genre in Job (CB Old Testament Series, 36; Lund: Almqvist & Wiksell, 1994), pp. 203-75. See also Isa. 21.11-12 and cf. I. Young, ‘The Diphthong *ay in Edomite’, JSS 37 (1992), pp. 27-30. 44. The exceptional case is that of Sennacherib. Within the world of Chronicles it would have been impossible to present a positive speech of Sennacherib during the siege of Jerusalem in the days of Hezekiah and Isaiah. Yet his speech clearly serves positive goals from the point of view advanced by the narrator (and the authorial voice), as shown above in 2.3. 45. Japhet, Ideology, p, 53. Japhet’s position about Chronicles’ lack of interest in the religious status of the nations should be rephrased, however, if the conclusions of this chapter are accepted and if ‘religion’ implies some form of ‘theological worldview’. 46. For general theoretical issues associated with these matters, see H. de Berg, ‘Reception Theory or Preception Theory?’, in S. Tötösy de Zepetnek and I. Sywenky (eds.), The Systemic and Empirical Approach to Literature and Culture as Theory and Application (Edmonton: Research Institute for Comparative Literature and CrossCultural Studies, University of Alberta; Siegen Institute for Empirical Literature and Media Research, Siegen University, 1997), pp. 23-30. 47. If ‘the meanings’ are negotiated between the community of readers and the text, then different communities of readers may arrive at different meanings, i.e., ‘meanings’ are contingent on historical (in its larger sense) circumstances. See, e.g., L.K. Handy, ‘One Problem Involved in Translating to Meaning: An Example of Acknowledging Time and Tradition’, SJOT 10 (1996), pp. 16-27. If the ‘meaning/(s)’ of a text, or better, ‘reception texts’, which are the only that participate in the communicative process, are contingent on historical circumstances, then references to ‘the meaning/(s)’ of the text must be marked in relation to the reading/reception community, from whose perspective, the proposed ‘meaning/(s)’ may or may not have validity. 48. Cf. with the characterization of the non-Israelites in the book of Jonah. 49. On Mic. 4.2-3, see Ben Zvi, Micah. 50. As in other texts reflecting the same views, foreigners are in need of interaction with either YHWH or Israel (or its representatives) or both to bring forward their perspectives. Of course, this is a result of the Israel-centered character of the text, but

288


this fact does not detract from the field of the interaction between the nations/foreigners, Israel and YHWH within the discourse of the postmonarchic Jerusalemite elite. 51. This is consistent with the tendency among Achaemenid kings to ‘adopt the title and status’ of some of the local monarchs of the past. See, e.g., C. Tuplin, ‘The Administration of the Achaemenid Empire’, in I. Carradice (ed.), Coinage and Administration in the Athenian and Persian Empires (BAR International Series, 343; Oxford: B.A.R., 1987), pp. 109-66 (111-12). The point here, of course, is that this tendency appears in a document that was written within and for a Yehudite/Israelite community of literati. 52. Yet it should be stressed that within the discourse of Chronicles, ‘worthy’ foreign monarchs (whether they rule over their own countries in monarchic times or over an empire that includes postmonarchic Judah) are the only rulers who are presented as substantially Israelized (see characterizations above in section 2). 53. See, in particular, the characterization of Huram and the queen of Sheba. 54. The observations advanced in the last two paragraphs remind me, for one, of Bickerman’s sharp words of more than 30 years ago: ‘The whole conception of the Chronicler shows that he wrote when Persian rule seemed destined for eternity and the union between the altar in Jerusalem and the throne in Susa seemed natural and indestructible… Accordingly, the tendency of his work is to recommend a kind of political quietism which should please the court of Susa as well as the High Priest’s mansion in Jerusalem… The idea of a Messianic age which was destined to come after the overthrow of the Persian world power, finds no place in the work of the Chronicler’ (E. Bickerman, From Ezra to the Last of the Maccabees: Foundations of Postbiblical Judaism [New York: Schocken Books, 1962], p. 30.). Also cf. the ‘excursus’ in Chapter 11.

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Skehan, P.W., and A.A. DiLella, The Wisdom of Ben Sira (AB, 39; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1987). Snyman, G., ‘A Possible World of Text Production for the Genealogy in 1 Chronicles 2.3– 4.23’, in M.P. Graham, S.L. McKenzie and G.N. Knoppers (eds.), The Chronicler as Theologian: Essays in Honor of Ralph W. Klein (JSOTSup, 371; New York: T&T Clark, 2003), pp. 32-60. Sparks, H.F.D., The Apocryphal Old Testament (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1984). Sparks, K., ‘Prophetic Speeches in Chronicles: Speculation, Revelation, and Ancient Historiography’, BBR 9 (1999), pp. 233-46. Spiegel, G.M., ‘Memory and History: Liturgical Time and Historical Time’, History and Theory 41 (2002), pp. 149-62. Stamm, J.J., ‘Hebräische Frauennamen’, in B. Hartmann, et al. (eds.), Hebräische Wortforschung. Festschrift zum 80: Geburtstag von Walter Baumgarten (VTSup, 16; Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1967), pp. 301-39. Stern, E., Archaeology of the land of the Bible. II. The Assyrian, Babylonian, and Persian Periods, 732–332 BCE (ABRL; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 2001). —‘A Hoard of Persian Period Bullae from the Vicinity of Samaria’, Michmanim 6 (1992), pp. 7-30 (in Hebrew). —Material Culture of the Land of the Bible in the Persian Period, 538–332 B.C. (Warminster/Jerusalem: Aris & Phillips/Israel Exploration Society, 1982). Stern, E., and Y. Magen, ‘The First Phase of the Samaritan Temple on Mt. Gerizim – New Archaelogical Evidence’, Qadmoniot 33/120 (2000), pp. 74-118 (Hebrew). Sternberg, M., ‘Proteus in Quotation-Land: Mimesis and the Forms of Reported Discourse’, Poetics Today 3 (1982), pp. 107-56. Talmon, S., ‘Biblical Traditions Concerning the Beginning of Samaritan History’, Eretz Shomron (Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1973), pp. 9-33 (Hebrew). Throntveit, M.A., ‘The Relationship of Hezekiah to David and Solomon in the Books of Chronicles’, in M.P. Graham, S.L. McKenzie and G.N. Knoppers (eds.), The Chronicler as Theologian: Essays in Honor of Ralph W. Klein (JSOTSup, 371; New York: T&T Clark, 2003), pp. 105-21. —‘The Chronicler’s Speeches and Historical Reconstruction’, in M.P. Graham, K.G. Hoglund and S.L. McKenzie (eds.), The Chronicler as Historian (JSOTSup, 238; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997), pp. 225-45. —‘Hezekiah in the Books of Chronicles’, SBLSP 27 (1988), pp. 302-311. —When Kings Speak: Royal Speech and Royal Prayer in Chronicles (SBLDS, 93; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1987). Trotter, J.M., ‘Reading, Readers and Reading Readers Reading the Account of Saul’s Death in 1 Chronicles 10’, in M.P. Graham and S.L. McKenzie (eds.), The Chronicler as Author: Studies in Text and Texture (JSOTSup, 263; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1999), pp. 294-310. Tuell, S.S., First and Second Chronicles (Interpretation; Louisville, KY: John Knox Press, 2001). Tuplin, C., ‘The Administration of the Achaemenid Empire’, in I. Carradice (ed.), Coinage and Administration in the Athenian and Persian Empires (BAR International Series, 343; Oxford: B.A.R., 1987), pp. 109-66. Ulrich, E., ‘Daniel Manuscripts from Qumran: Part 1, A Preliminary Edition of 4Q Danª’, BASOR 268 (1987), pp. 17-37. Van Seters, J., ‘Creative Imitation in the Hebrew Bible’, SR 29 (2000), pp. 395-409. —‘The Chronicler’s Account of Solomon’s Temple Building: A Continuity Theme’, in M.P. Graham, K.G. Hoglund and S.L. McKenzie (eds.), The Chronicler as Historian (JSOTSup, 238; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997), pp. 283-300.

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INDEX INDEX OF BIBLICAL WORKS CITED

HEBREW BIBLE

Genesis 1.1 4.17 4.25 4.26 5.3 5.29 10.1-30 12.10-17 12.6-7 17.19 18 18.23-32 20 21 21.3 22.2 24.3 24.7 25.1 29.28 29.29 29.33 30.4 30.11 30.13 30.20 30.21 30.24 33.18-20 34 35.4 36.39 38

28 185 177 177 177 177 260 73 133 177 85 171, 291 73, 74 73 177 31 278 278 191 190 190 177 177 177 177 177 177 177 133 143 143 189, 190 182, 192, 301

38.3 41.45 46.20

177 190 255

Exodus 1.1 1.11 2.21 8.28 8.11 9.34-35 10.1 12.8-9 12.9 18.11 20.12 22.20 23.9 28.30 31.31-35 32.1 35.31-35 35.34

28 114 190 139 139 139 139 30, 157 265 272 121 137 137 258 274 267 274 285

Leviticus 18.19 19.34 25.44-46 26.14-45 26.32-35 26.34-35

26.43

266 137 241 98, 151 155, 207 29, 90, 98, 151, 163, 207 29, 90, 98, 151, 163, 207

Numbers 1.45-46 1.7 2.3 3.43 7.12 10.14 26.33 26.5-51 26.58-59 27.1-7 27.21 31.25-46 32 32.34-38 33.1-49 36.1-12

72 156 156 72 156 156 183 238 190 183 258 238 111 113 113 183

Deuteronomy 5.16 7.9-10 7.25 8.33 10.14 16.6-7 16.7 17.15 20.8 10.19 28.25 29.4

121 36 258 258 285 157 30, 265 29, 89 128 137 278 241

Joshua 1.8 15.16-19

283 183

304


Joshua (cont.) 15.38 15.63 15.17 17.3-6 19.50 24.1 24.25

75 58 190 183 185 133 133

Judges 1.8 1.12-15 1.13 1.21 1.26 4.17-22 5.5 9

58 183 190 58 185 192, 301 89 143

1 Samuel 1.1 5.2 8.2 13.13 14.2 15.33 17 17.54 18 18.25 26.6 30.7 31.1-13 31.1–2 Sam. 24.20 2 Samuel 2.13 2.18 3.39 5.18-20 5.20 5.23 5.5 5.6-10 6.12 6.2 7.10-14 8.16

88 188 88 73 62 267 59 58 59 267 190 267 260 254

190 190 190 257 258 258 154 97 236 172 264 190

9.8 11.2 13.1 16.9 17.25 18.2 19.22-23 20.24 21.17 21.19 22.1-51 23.13-17 23.15 23.18 24.1-25 24.15 24.17 1 Kings 1.7 1.12 1.25 1.45 2.5 2.11 2.22 4.2 4.6 5.9 5.21 5.22 5.23 5.27 5.27-32 5.28 7.13-14 8.16-18 8.22-23 8.27 8.30 8.44 9.11-13 9.17-19 9.18 9.19 9.20-22

283 257 257 190 190 190 190 121 190 59 262 249 249 190 162, 214 214 249

190 266 71, 155 155 190 154 190 71, 148 121 98 284 284 267 267 58, 120, 135, 267 121 267, 284 32 249 285 249 207 267 101 110 114 58, 136, 147, 148

10.6-9 10.24 11.1 11.18 11.26-28 11.28 11.29-40 11.41 11.42 12.1-24 12.3 12.7 12.18 12.25 14.9 14.21 15.1 15.1-8 15.2 15.2 15.4 15.9-10 15.9-24 15.10 15.11 15.12 15.12-13 15.22 15.23 15.24 16.23 16.29 16.34 16.8-11 17.18 17.20 18.42 19.28 20.14 22.1-28 22.17 22.39 22.41 22.42 22.43-44 22.44

284 283 257 58, 135, 136 135 136 120 135 154 104 135 136 121 85, 104 154 154 155 245 154 69 276 147 154 68, 154 254 70 70 101, 110 111 147 115 115 87 115 254 249 249 98 140 171 255 111 115 154 172, 237 70

305

Index of Biblical Works Cited 2 Kings 2.19-22 3.15 8.17 8.18 8.19 8.21 8.24 8.26 8.26-27 8.46-52 9.27 9.28 11.3-4 12.2 12.22 14.2 14.3-4 14.7 14.22 14.34-35 15.1 15.2 15.3-4 15.5 15.10 15.13 15.17 15.20 15.30 15.32 15.33 15.34 16.1-20 16.2 16.3 16.6 16.8 16.9 16.10 16.10-16 16.20 17.1-6 17.3 17.5-6 17.13-14 17.17

265 264 154 263 139 236 172, 235 154 263 207 236 172, 235 154 154 172 154 172, 237 75 101 172, 237 108, 155 46, 69, 154 172, 237 236 68 68 108 116, 244, 256 95 95, 108 154 95 212, 235 147, 154, 239 233, 263 234 267 235 267 236 172, 218 239 244 256 239 263

17.24-34 18.1 18.2 18.3 18.4 18.5 18.9 18.9-12 18.13–19.37 18.19-35 18.22 19.15 19.15-19 19.15-20 19.19-23 19.2-7 19.6-34 19.35 19.37 20.16-18 20.20 21.1 21.1-17 21.1-18 21.2-7 21.6 21.8-9 21.16 21.19 22–23 22.1 23.15-20 23.21-23 23.25 23.31 23.36 24.3 24.8 24.17 24.18 24.19-20 25 25.7 25.26 25.27

239 239 147, 154, 188 254 235, 261 245 244 239 219, 245 284 261 278 251 249 173 249 261 251, 261, 265 244 263 111, 246 154 248, 251 145 248 263 239 248 154 154 154, 155 141 219, 265 245 154 154 146, 221, 248 154 155 154 262 262 263 207 150

Isaiah 1.3 2.2-3 6.10 10.28 21.11-12 22.9-11 23.17 36.1–37.38 36.4–37.15 37.16 37.38 44.28 44.28–45.1 45.1 45.1-3 45.21 55.3 58.7 Jeremiah 10.10 15.4 19.2-5 23.16 25.9-12 25.11-12

219 281 139 62 287 246, 262 278 245 284 278 244 230, 278, 282 156 136, 282 278 230 230 230

32.43 49.16 51.25 52.11 52.28-29 52.31

73 248 213 278 157, 207 29, 90, 98, 151, 163, 201 29, 90, 98, 151, 163, 201 207 75 61 263 238 150

Ezekiel 1.3 3.14 7.26 14.20 17.11-21 18 18.1-20 18.5-9

264 264 121 162 231 36 162 241, 260

29.10

306


Ezekiel (cont.) 18.6 20 33.18-19 37 43.14 43.17 43.20 44.10-11 45.19

266 243 36 207 264 264 264 253 264

Hosea 1–3 3.4-5 5.15–6.1 14.10

192 73 73 283

Amos 3.9 6.5

73 261

Obadiah 1.3

75

Jonah 1.9

278

Micah 1.2-16 4.2-3

152, 291 281, 287

Nahum 2.2

136

Zephaniah 1.12 2.4

172, 234 115

Zechariah 1–8 1.4 4.10 8.10 8.21-22

296 239 73 55, 56, 73 281

Malachi 1.6 2.17 3.22 3.23-34

121 172, 234 98 245

Psalms 10.4 10.11 10.13 14.1 18 31.6 53.2 68.9 68.18 105.1-5 106 106.19 111.10 115.15 121.2 124.4 134.3 137.7-9 137.9 141.6 146.6 146.7-8

172, 234 172, 234 172, 234 172, 234 262 73 172, 234 89 89 260 243 98 219, 229 273 273 273 273 61 61 61 273 241

Proverbs 1–9 8.22 9.10 31.10-31

193, 302 125, 210 219, 229 193, 302

Ruth 1.8 3

140 192, 301

Qoholet 12.10 12.12-14

67 25

Daniel 5.2

262

Ezra 1 1-10 1.1-3 1.2 1.2-3 1.3

286, 291 246, 262 260 278 285 286

1.4 2.28 2.61 2.63 2.64-65 3.3-7 3.8-13 3.10 6.19-22 9.2 10.44

208 141 190 258 207 219 219 246 219 38 192

Nehemiah 1.4 1.5 2.4 2.20 5.5 7.32 7.65 7.66-67 7.72–8.12 8 9 9.1-2 9.13 9.26 11.3-19 11.11 11.31-35 12.17 12.24

278 278 278 278 241 141 258 207 262 246 243 38 89 164 98, 99 236 192 188 246

1 Chronicles 1 1–9

1.1 1.1–26.17 1.1-26 1.5-23 1.9 1.21 1.28 1.32 1.32-33 1.34 1.35-54

95 28, 29, 37, 81, 174-94, 255 28 81 81 260 84, 91 121 180 180 181 95 81

Index of Biblical Works Cited 1.39 1.50 2.1 2.3 2.3–4.23 2.4 2.10 2.10-12 2.10-15 2.15-17 2.16-17

2.17 2.18 2.21 2.24 2.25-26 2.29 2.34-35 2.35 2.38 2.42-46 2.46 2.47 2.48-49 2.49 3 3.1 3.1-3 3.2 3.4 3.5 3.9 3.10 3.15 3.19 4.3 4.5-7 4.9-10 4.10

182 34, 178, 190 95 191, 236 95, 206, 300, 301 182 156 156 87, 202, 282, 284 190 34, 178, 183, 185, 267 190 191 175 176, 188 176 189, 190 34, 183, 179,184 190 180 176 180 191 180 183 12, 99 191 189 182, 191, 192 154 182, 192 182, 183, 191, 192 188 155 182, 183, 192 183, 192 189 177, 189, 294 177

4.17 4.17-18 4.18 4.19 4.27 4.41 5 5.17 5.25-26 5.26 5.34-36 5.37-41 5.41 6.28 6.33 6.34 6.34-35 6.52 6.53 7.4 7.14 7.15 7.16 7.17 7.17-18 7.21-22 7.23 7.24 7.25-27 7.27 7.28 7.30 7.32 8.8 8.8-11 8.9 8.11 8.12 8.29 8.29-38 9 9.1 9.2-17 9.2-38 9.3-9

177, 192 177, 194 191, 192, 286 192 183, 192 139, 285 53, 128 135, 139 85, 205 205 53, 148 155 72, 155 87 87 40, 89, 207 207 132, 135 62 176 180, 183, 255 183 177, 189 183 183 177 177, 186, 189 34, 62, 185 186 87 132, 135 183, 192 183, 192 185 181 176 185 185 176, 190 95 91 23, 90, 98, 139 98 91 99

307 9.11 236 9.22 88 9.35 176, 190 9.35-44 95 10 39, 301 10–2 Chron. 36 28, 254 10.1-12 260 10.13-14 37 10.14 36, 156, 236, 239, 285 11.1-3 36 11.3 36, 88, 119 11.4-9 97 11.6 190 11.8 113 11.15-19 249 11.17 249 11.39 190 13.1-5 172 13.2 141 14.9-12 257 14.14 258 15 246 15.2 164, 240 15.15 40, 89 15.16 261, 262 15.20 262 15.25 236 16.4-7 261 16.8-22 260 16.13 95 17.2 278 17.4 276 17.9-13 264 17.11-12 274 17.14 130, 149, 230 17.15 89 17.21 89, 156 18.10 121 18.12 190 18.15 190 19.9 283 20.5 59 21 161 21.1-30 162, 214 21.2 141

308


1 Chronicles (cont.) 21.4 138 21.14 23, 162, 171, 214, 215, 234 21.16-17 249 21.29 40, 89 22–29 29 22.2 141 22.2-5 267 22.5 129 22.6 278 22.8 140, 267 22.9 129, 215 22.9-10 22, 138, 163, 215 22.10 274 22.12 40, 89, 173, 274 22.12-13 285 22.13 40, 89 22.14-15 267 22.19 236 22.20 278 23.1 119 23.4-5 261 23.5 261 23.15 40, 89 23.22 192, 193 23.27-32 261 25 246 26.18 253 26.24 40, 89 26.28 88, 190 27.24 190 27.25 114 28.4 164 28.4-6 32, 36 28.5 230, 240 28.5-7 22, 138, 163, 215 28.9 73, 220, 235, 240, 241, 297 28.11-13 253 28.11-19 264 28.12 264 28.19 264, 285

29.1

29.2-5 29.2-9 29.7 29.20-25 29.22 29.23 29.27 29.29 29.30 29.15 34.18 2 Chronicles 1.1 1.1–11.43 1.3 2.1 2.2-4 2.2-9 2.3 2.43-45 2.5 2.6 2.7-8 2.9 2.10 2.10-11 2.10-15 2.11 2.12 2.12-15 2.13-14 2.15 2.16 2.16-17 3.1 3.2 3.15 4.11 4.13-14 4.16 4.18 4.9

22, 129, 138, 163, 215 267 129 107 119 53, 119, 148, 155 230 154 88, 285 278 39, 293 182

72, 278 245 40, 89, 96 120, 176 272 272, 273 152 180 273 272 272 272 273, 283 272 272, 282, 284 173, 273, 274 285 272 267, 274 267 136 120 31 153 127 274, 285 274 274, 285 286 264

5.10 6.5 6.5-6 6.5-7 6.10-11 6.12 6.13 6.14 6.18 6.20 6.34 6.34-35 6.36-40 7.8-10 7.12 7.16 7.22 8.1 8.2 8.4 8.4-6 8.6 8.7-10 8.8 8.9 8.11 8.13 8.14 9.1 9.4 9.5 9.5-8 9.8 9.9 9.22 9.24 9.29

9.30 9.31 10 10.1 10.1–11.4 10.1–11.17

40, 89, 96, 156 89, 156 32, 36 32 53 249 264 249 285 249 207 207 201, 207 157 240 240 89, 156 248 267 114 100, 101, 110 114 120 121 136 286 32, 40, 89, 96, 152 32 276 275 276 275, 282, 284 230, 273, 275 276 283 152 120, 123, 135, 137, 138, 242 154, 248 119 105, 140 119, 133 104, 202 197

309

Index of Biblical Works Cited 10.2 10.3 10.4 10.7 10.10 10.15 10.15-16 10.18 10.19 11 11.1 11.1-4 11.2-4 11.3 11.4 11.5 11.5-10

11.5-12 11.5-23 11.7 11.11 11.11-12 11.13-16 11.13-17 11.16 11.17 11.17-21 11.20 11.20-22 11.21-22 11.23 12.1 12.1-5 12.1-6 12.2 12.2-5 12.4 12.5

135 127 120 136 121 126, 137, 138 123 121, 140 121, 130 49 140 105 116, 126, 128, 137 134 24, 122, 123 105 8, 101, 103, 106-108, 247, 257 100, 106 126, 263 101 114 116 116, 224, 239 99, 126, 127 239 126, 134, 137, 140 72 188 69 48 114, 116 122, 248 126, 236 36, 170, 213 22, 140, 152, 161, 214 114 84, 91, 122, 140, 161, 213

12.5-6 12.5-7 12.5-14 12.6-12 12.13 12.14 12.15 12.20 12.34 13 13.1 13.1-23 13.2 13.3 13.4 13.4-5 13.4-9 13.4-12 13.4-13 13.4-20 13.5 13.5-7 13.6-7 13.7 13.8 13.8-9 13.9-12 13.10 13.11 13.11-17 13.12 13.13-17 13.15-18 13.17 13.18 13.19 13.20 13.20-21 13.21 13.22 13.23 13.27 13.31 13.3-12

236 137, 217, 223 168, 237 247 72, 154 137 135, 138, 242 242 242 49, 61, 97, 129, 138 84, 155 245 48, 49, 54, 154 140 127 224 238 198, 239 211 153, 247 127, 130 224, 239 128 138, 140 127, 130, 230 233 127 127 127 198 84, 127 132 84 222 130 141 130 147 54 135 71 71 68 127

14 14–16 14.1 14.1-6 14.2 14.2-15 14.2–15.19 14.2-4 14.4 14.5 14.5-6 14.6

14.6-7 14.7 14.7-14 14.8-14

14.8-17 14.10 14.11-14 14.12 15.1 15.2 15.3 15.3-6 15.7 15.8 15.8-17 15.10 15.13 15.15 15.16 15.17 15.9 16 16.1 16.1-4 16.1-7 16.1-12 16.1-13 16.1-14

52 154 254 52 50 219 263 50, 116 50 71, 101, 114 100, 106, 107 106, 114, 115, 140, 247 263 222 116, 123 22, 71, 140, 161, 214, 237, 247, 257 52 56 238 219 56 73 74 55, 72 50 52 52 71, 107 68, 74 68 68 50, 70 278 220 84, 115, 152 84 22, 161, 214 70, 263 108 84

310


2 Chronicles (cont.) 16.3 84 16.4 114 16.6 100, 101, 110 16.6-7 157 16.7-11 223 16.9 73, 236 16.10 22, 75, 138, 164, 168, 172, 215, 237 16.12 152, 236 16.13 115, 147, 154 17.1 72, 84, 91 17.1-5 36, 170, 234 17.2 106, 107, 116 17.4 84 17.6 50, 116 17.7 152 17.7-9 116 17.9 25 17.10 278 17.12 101, 107, 114, 247, 263 17.12-13 100 17.14 84 17.14-19 116 17.18 84 17.19 116 18 84, 265 18.1-27 22, 171 18.3 84 18.16 255 18.18-22 173 19–31 221 19.4–20.30 219 20.1-29 247, 257 20.1-30 22, 161, 214 20.5-13 128 20.6 278 20.6-12 263 20.14-15 236 20.20 25

20.21 20.22-25 20.29 20.31 20.32-33 20.33 20.34 20.35 21.2 21.3 21.4 21.5 21.6 21.7 21.9 21.12 21.12-15

21.12-17 21.12-20 22.12–23.1 21.15 21.18 21.18-19 21.19-20 21.20 21.21 22.2 22.3-4 22.4 22.6 22.7-8 22.8-9 22.9 23 23.1 23.8 23.18 24.1 24.5 24.6 24.17-18 24.19-25 24.20-22

236 238 84, 91, 278 154 172, 237 50, 70 84, 91 84, 153 84, 91 114 72 154 84, 263 23, 37, 139, 161 236 245, 285 36, 142, 170, 206, 207, 213 36, 170, 213 239 154 200 72 264 23 235 84, 91, 146 154 263 72 97 115 236 172, 235 247 153 152 32, 40, 89, 96 154 152 40, 89, 96 168 168, 236 22, 75, 138, 164

24.20-26 24.22 24.23-24 24.25 25

25.1 25.2 25.3 25.4 25.5 25.6 25.6-7 25.7 25.7-12 25.9 25.10 25.11 25.11-12 25.13 25.14 25.14-15 25.14-16 25.14-22 25.14-24 25.15 25.15-24 25.16 25.16-17

25.17 25.17-20 25.19 25.19-20 25.20 25.21 25.23 25.25 26.2 26.3 26.4

264 164 36, 170, 213 172, 235 6, 44, 60, 66, 68, 74, 294 154 172, 237 153 40, 55, 89, 96 55 61, 75 238 75, 97, 247 247 61, 75 61, 62, 76 267 60, 238 61, 63, 75, 238 63, 64, 72, 75 63, 235 22, 171 170, 213 36 64, 76 63 77, 169, 172 64, 76, 120, 170, 178, 213 64 141 64 139 169 76 76 72 100, 101 154, 155 172, 237

311

Index of Biblical Works Cited 26.5 26.5-8 26.6

26.6-7 26.6-10 26.7 26.9 26.9-10 26.9-15 26.10

26.11-15 26.15 26.16 26.18-21 26.21

26.22 27.1 27.2 27.3 27.3-4 27.4

27.5 27.6 27.8 27.10 28 28.1 28.1-27

28.2-4 28.3 28.3-4 28.3-5 28.5 28.5-8

116 247 100, 101, 197, 115, 247 111, 116 111 95 114, 115, 116, 247 113, 114 264 9, 100, 101, 106, 107, 111, 114, 115 116 95, 116 235, 236 264 29, 110, 151, 207, 236 242 154 172, 236, 237 116 113, 247 100, 101, 106, 107, 114, 115 116 36, 72, 170, 234 154 101 173, 220, 233 147, 154 210, 211, 212, 228, 233 217 233, 263 213 36, 170 213, 217 220

28.6

28.6-8 28.7 28.8 28.8-15 28.9 28.9-10 28.9-11 28.9-15

28.13 28.15 28.16 28.17 28.18 28.20 28.20-21 28.21 28.23 28.23-25 28.27 29–32 29–31 29 29.1 29.1-4 29.2 29.3 29.6-9 29.11 29.16 29.25 29.26 29.27 30 30.1 30.1–31.1 30.2

24, 140, 172, 217, 220, 222, 260 224 220 224 223-25 207, 226 173 239 141, 199, 200, 227, 250 223 225 75, 218 218 107, 218, 234 75 218 218 218 218 23, 172, 218 277 167, 221, 257 161, 261 141, 147, 154, 188 233 254 29, 150 23, 138, 162 164, 240 236 141, 261 141 131 239, 241, 250 141, 224, 239, 285 130, 198 131

30.2-5 30.5 30.6 30.6-9 30.8 30.10-11 30.12 30.14 30.16 30.17 30.18 30.18-20 30.24 30.25 30.26 31.1

31.2-31 31.3 31.8 31.13 32 32.1-21 32.3 32.3-5 32.4-5 32.5

32.5-8 32.6 32.7 32.7-8 32.8 32.9 32.9-22 32.10-11 32.10-15 32.12 32.12-13 32.13 32.13-14 32.14

236 141 131 132, 198 142, 206, 236 224, 239 131 219, 235 40, 89, 96 253 239, 265 224, 239, 240 131 141 131 70, 130, 132, 198, 210, 219, 224, 235, 236, 239 219 152 131 236 246 22, 161, 214 131, 236 262 246 72, 113, 114, 246, 247, 264 264 131 285 232 131 131 245 277 276, 284 70 277 276 285 238

312


2 Chronicles (cont.) 32.14-15 277 32.16-19 276 32.17 276 32.19 276 32.20 249, 261 32.21 219, 244, 251, 261 32.21-22 247 32.23 131, 141 32.25 235 32.29 100, 101, 106, 107, 113 32.30 262 32.33 131 33 251 33.1 154 33.1-13 24, 34 33.1-20 248 33.3 70 33.6 233, 263 33.8 40, 89, 96 33.9-11 236 33.10-11 10, 11, 236 33.10-13 265 33.10-16 249 33.11 257, 263 33.12-13 247, 251, 253, 254 33.12-16 217, 236, 263 33.12-17 52, 103 33.13 263 33.14 8, 9, 247, 263 33.16 264

33.17 33.18 33.19 33.21 33.25 34 34.1 34.4 34.6 34.6-7 34.7 34.8 34.8-9 34.9 34.14 34.24 34.26 35–36 35.1-19 35.3 35.4 35.6 35.8 35.10-11 35.11-14 35.12 35.12-13 35.13 35.18 35.19 35.19-20 35.20

50 91, 251, 263 263 154 264 154 54, 154, 155 70, 130, 141 198 130, 198 141 155 72, 155 155, 224, 239 40, 89, 96 131 131 246, 262 265 52, 131 131 40, 89, 96, 253 131, 236 253 253 40, 89, 96 265 30, 157 88, 99, 131 268 54 262

35.20-22 35.21

35.22 35.24 35.31 36.2 36.4 36.5 36.9 36.11 36.11-20 36.12 36.12-13 36.13 36.14-23 36.15-16 36.16 36.17-19 36.20 36.20-21

36.20-23 36.21 36.21-22 36.21-23 36.22-23 36.23

76 131, 231, 277, 282, 284 262, 278 131 278 154 155 154 154 154 90 157, 278 262 231, 254 262 173 157 246 90, 156 23, 138, 163, 171, 205, 207, 215, 234 28, 90 90, 152 29, 98, 150, 151, 201 33, 151, 201 231, 260 205, 208, 230, 231, 278, 282, 287

INDEX OF AUTHORS AND INDIVIDUALS CITED

Ackroyd, P.R. 231, 232, 289 Ahlström, G.W. 19, 40, 97, 110, 111, 205, 289, 291 Albertz, R. 19, 39, 67, 97, 189, 191, 205, 289, 290, 297 Allen, L.C. 233, 267, 289 Alster, B. 261, 298 Amit, Y. 37, 143, 239, 241, 242, 264, 28486, 289 Anderson, H. 263, 289 Ariotti, P.E. 153, 289 Attridge, H.W. 262, 266-68, 289 Aufrecht, W.G. 191, 291 Auld, G. 38, 94, 110, 114, 115, 289 Avigad, N. 193, 194, 289 Barr, J. 152-54, 290 Bartlett, J.R. 234, 290 Becking, B. 19, 39, 97, 189, 191, 205, 290, 297 Beentejes, P. 73, 290 Begg, C.T. 17, 19, 69, 75, 76, 284, 290 Ben Zvi, E. 11, 19, 36-40, 67, 71, 72, 75, 88, 94, 96-99, 113, 115, 139, 152, 171, 172, 188, 189, 191, 205, 285, 287, 290, 291 Bendavid, A. 35, 95, 290 Bentzen, A. 112, 113, 291 Ben-Zeev, M. Pucci 73, 290 Bickerman, E. 172, 236, 242, 286-88, 291 Blenkinsopp, J. 192, 204, 237, 291, 297 Bodribb, S. 155, 291 Bogaert, P. 265, 266, 291 Braun, R.L. 170, 232, 234, 239, 241, 291 Brett, M.G. 233, 292 Brettler, M.Z. 73, 292 Brooke, G.J. 264, 292 Broshi, M. 237, 292

Brown, W.P. 74, 294 Burns, D. 36, 71 Butler, J.T. 242, 292 Carter, C.E. 204, 237, 292 Charles, R.H. 261, 263, 292 Charlesworth, J.H. 262-66, 289, 292-94, 299 Cheney, M. 287, 292 Childs, S 36, 170, 234, 292 Cogan, M. 137, 155, 292 Collins, J.J. 192, 262, 292 Colson, F.H. 266, 292 Conrad, E.W. 68, 242, 292 Corish, D. 153, 292 Cross, F.M. 142, 231, 264, 292 Danto, A.C. 134, 292 Darnell, D.R. 265, 293 de Berg, H. 287, 293 de Moor, J.C. 73, 290 de Vaux, R. 236, 293 De Vries, S.J. 39, 40, 68, 71, 110, 115, 135, 171, 240, 285, 293 Dearman, A. 93, 134, 290 Deboys, D.G. 114, 137, 140, 232, 293 DiLella, A.A. 261, 162, 193, 300 Dillard, R.B. 35, 36, 109, 111, 170, 171, 233, 234, 236, 240, 242, 293 Doermann, R.W. 115, 235, 293 Doran, R. 261, 263, 293 Dörrfuss, M. 98, 293 Duke, R.K. 113, 114, 235, 282, 284, 293 Dyck, J.E. 39, 99, 156, 157, 194, 206, 207, 293 Edelman, D.V. 112, 296 Eichrodt, W. 35, 293

314


Emerton, J.A. 97, 295 Engelken, K. 191, 293 Eshel, H. 142, 292 Eskenazi, T.C. 188, 193, 194, 206, 293, 301 Estes, D.J. 39, 293 Exum, C. 38, 94, 289 Fallon, F. 266, 293 Feldman, L.H. 17, 19, 38, 293 Fiensy, D.A. 265, 293 Fishbane, M. 39, 98, 114, 153, 157, 171, 190, 207, 234, 236, 242, 293, 295, 299 Floyd, M.H. 37, 191, 289, 290 Fowler, J.D. 137, 294 Fox, M.V. 143, 289 Fraser, J.T. 152, 153, 289, 292, 294 Freedman, D.N. 293 Freund, R.A. 242, 293 Frisch, A. 138, 293 Fritz, V. 113, 293 Funk, R.W. 101, 110, 294 Garfinkel, Y. 194, 294, 298 Gaulery, S.W. 191, 291 Gerlerman, G. 110, 294 Gibson, J.J. 152, 294 Goldingay, J. 35, 114, 294 Grabbe, L.L. 38, 41, 74, 77, 94, 134, 141, 206, 286, 290, 294 Graham, M.P. 19, 35-40, 74, 93-95, 109, 133-36, 141, 233, 242, 282, 289-91, 294-97, 299-302 Grosz, K. 190, 294 Haak, R.D. 37, 289 Haas, P.J. 39 Handy, L.K. 19, 40, 67, 97, 205, 287, 291, 294 Haran, M. 143, 289 Harrington, D.J. 268, 294 Harvey, P.B, Jr 17, 19, 296 Heard, R.C. 189, 294 Hirsch, E.D. 233, 294 Hoglund, K.G. 19, 35, 39, 40, 109, 135, 282, 291, 294, 299-301 Holladay, C.R. 266, 167, 268, 294 Holloway, S.W. 19, 40, 97, 205, 291

Hölscher, L. 94, 135, 294 Houtman, C. 242, 295 Jacobsen, T. 153, 295 Japhet, S. 35-38, 63, 67, 69-71, 73, 76, 86, 87, 95-99, 110, 112, 113, 137, 138, 140, 141, 154-56, 163, 167, 170-72, 177, 189, 190-92, 206, 231, 234, 236-39, 241, 242, 260, 263, 266, 272, 283-87, 295, 296 Johnstone, W. 63, 73, 76, 95, 135, 137, 155, 177, 189, 193, 207, 285, 286, 295 Jones, G.H. 110, 234, 295 Jonson, G.L. 115, 235, 293 Kahane, H. 234, 295 Kalimi, I. 17, 19, 35, 37-39, 46, 54, 67, 72, 74, 75, 94, 99, 112, 136, 142, 208, 295, 296 Kallai, Z. 97, 295 Karrer, C. 194, 295 Kaufmann, Y. 171, 234, 238, 240, 295 Kelly, B.E. 36, 295 Kessler, J. 209, 295-96. Kiesow, A. 193, 296 Kitchen, K.A. 237, 296 Klein, R.W. 36, 95, 133, 233, 290, 295, 296, 300 Kleining, J.W. 40, 296 Knauf, E.A. 112, 296 Knierim, R. 152, 296 Knight, D.A. 232, 289 Knoppers, G.N. 17, 19, 34, 36-39, 41, 67, 70, 95, 96, 110, 118, 133, 135, 137, 142, 157, 171, 190, 191, 206, 233, 283, 290, 295, 296, 300 Knowles, M.D. 38, 207, 296 Knox, W.L. 266, 297 Kraemer, D. 67, 297 Kraft, R.A. 241, 261, 265, 292, 293, 297, 299 Kuan, J. 74, 294 Laato, A. 232, 297 Labahn, Antje viii, 2, 13, 41, 174-94 , 297 Lawrence, N. 152, 153, 289, 292, 294 Lemaire, A. 236, 297 Lesko, B. 190, 294 Levi, I. 261, 297

Index of Authors and Individuals Cited Levin, Y. 95, 297 Levinson, S.C. 233, 297 Lipschits, O. 76, 204, 207, 237, 297 Long, B.O. 68, 109, 136, 261, 297 Longman (III), T. 285, 297 Lundmark, L. 297

315

Polaski, D.C. 192, 298 Porten, B. 194, 299 Priest, J. 262, 299 Prudovsky, G. 154, 299 Purvis, J.D. 240, 299 Qedar, S. 297

Magen, Y. 142, 204, 292, 297, 300 Maier, J. 265, 297 Martin, R. 297 Mason, S. 17, 19, 38, 69, 72, 233, 241, 242, 286, 290, 293, 297 Mazar, A. 111, 297 Mazar, B. 113, 293 McConville, J.G. 235, 241, 297 McEvenue, S. 232, 297 McKenzie, S.L. 19, 35-40, 94, 95, 109, 133, 135, 136, 233, 240, 282, 28991, 294-97, 299-302 Meshorer, Y. 297 Meyers, C. 194, 297 Meyers, E.M. 142, 194, 298 Meyers, J.M. 110, 142, 298 Mirau, N.A. 191, 291 Mitchell, C. 38, 298 Moering, H.R. 73, 298 Momigliano, A. 152, 153, 298 Moore, C.A. 114, 298 Mosis, R. 139, 232, 298 Murray, D.F. 35, 298 Myers, J.M. 232, 262, 298

Rainey, A.F. 135, 299 Rajak, T. 268, 299 Ratner, R.J. 140, 299 Richards, K.H. 206, 301 Riley, W. 97, 299 Rimmon-Kenan, S. 283, 284, 299 Rofé, A. 171, 232, 234, 299, 301 Rogerson, J. 36, 71 Rudolph, W. 35, 62, 71, 75, 111, 113, 114, 170, 172, 233, 241, 242, 299 Rusch, G. 46, 67, 299 Ryle, H.E. 266, 299

Oded, B. 286, 298 Oeming, M. 95, 298 Ollenburger, B.C. 242, 292

Sanders, J. 284, 299 Sanders, J.A. 252, 264, 265, 292, 299 Sasson, J.M. 153, 299 Schloen, J.D. 188, 299 Schniedewind, W.M. 37, 39, 40, 299 Schuller, E.M. 253, 265, 299 Schürer, E. 262, 264, 266, 268, 299 Seeligman, I.L. 39, 96, 98, 157, 232, 299, 301 Seeman, D. 190, 299 Shaver, J.R. 238, 242, 291, 299 Shilo, Y. 237, 299 Siedlecki, A. 136, 299 Skehan, P.W. 261, 262, 300 Snyman, D. 95, 300 Sparks, H.F.D. 250, 263, 300 Sparks, K. 72, 300 Spiegel, G.M. 39, 300 Spilsbury, P. 290 Spinoza, B. 20, 35 Stamm, J.J. 193, 300 Stern, E. 110, 115, 142, 294, 300 Sternberg, M. 284, 286, 300 Stone, M.E. 260, 262, 289, 298

Parpola, S. 261, 298 Pearson, L.I.C. 114, 298 Perdue, L.G. 115, 192, 194, 235, 291-93, 297

Tadmor, H. 155, 292 Talmon, S. 142, 153, 190, 295, 299, 300 Throntveit, M.A. 141, 232, 233, 235, 282, 300

Na’aman, N. 76, 109, 110, 113, 116, 141, 294, 298 Neusner, J. 73, 298 Nickelsburg, G.W.E. 241, 260-63, 265, 292, 293, 297-99 Nielsen, K. 153, 295 Nikiprowetzky, V. 266, 298 North, R.S. 298 Noth, M. 113, 135, 298

316


Tigay, J.H. 137, 292 Tombs, L.E. 115, 235, 293 Trotter, J.M. 39, 300 Tucker, G.M. 232, 289 Tuell, S.S. 72, 73, 300 Tuplin, C. 288, 300 Ulrich, E. 264, 300 Van Seters, J. 38, 40, 94, 109, 113, 114, 135, 300, 301 van Wijk-Bos, J.W.H. 192, 301 Van Wolde, E. 192, 301 von Rad, G. 242, 301 Wacholder, B.Z. 266, 267, 301 Weinberg, J. 193, 301 Welch, A.C. 138, 301 Wellhausen, J. 35, 37, 70, 163, 170-72, 234-36, 301

Welten, P. 70, 109, 111, 113, 115, 116, 137, 263, 301 Wenham, J.W. 237, 301 Wheeldon, M.J. 77, 301 Wiedemann, T. 238, 301 Wilch, J.R. 153, 301 Willi, T. 190, 206, 239, 242, 301 Williamson, H.G.M. 9, 19, 35, 62, 67, 87, 96, 98, 110, 111, 115, 135, 136, 138, 141, 170, 171, 192, 231-35, 240, 260-64, 268, 283-86, 301 Wise, M. 252, 264, 301 Wright, J.W. 12, 19, 302 Yadin, Y. 253, 264, 302 Yoder, C.R. 193, 302 Young, I. 39, 287, 302 Zakovitch, Y. 232, 301 Zellermayer, M. 242, 302

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