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Dead Sea Discoveries 18 (2011) 109–128 brill.nl/dsd The Yaḥ ad—What is in a Name?1 Arie van der Kooij Instituut voor ...

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Dead Sea Discoveries 18 (2011) 109–128

brill.nl/dsd

The Yaḥ ad—What is in a Name?1 Arie van der Kooij Instituut voor Godsdienstwetenschappen, Universiteit Leiden, P.O. Box 9515, 2300 RA Leiden, the Netherlands [email protected]

Abstract What does the noun yaḥ ad in 1QS and related documents mean, and to what does it refer? In this article, which focuses on 1QS, it is suggested that the term yaḥ ad is best understood against the background of the expression “sitting together” as attested in 11QTa 57:13 (about a council in session). Furthermore, regarding the question to what kind of organization the term refers, it is argued that two patterns are to be distinguished in 1QS, the first of which is comparable to the demos, the national assembly, as attested in 1 Maccabees, whereas the second one is marked by the emphasis on leading priests as guardians and interpreters of the Law. The conclusion is drawn that in 1QS the noun yaḥ ad does not refer to the movement at large, but to the community of the fully initiated (male) members who lived at several localities. Keywords 1QS, yaḥ ad; sitting together; council; organizational pattern; demos

I It is a disputed question how to understand the term ‫ ( יחד‬yaḥ ad ), mainly to be found as a noun in 1QS and related documents, and to what it may refer. Does it signify the community at Qumran, or is it “an umbrella term

1

Revised and expanded version of paper presented at the Congress of the IOQS held in Helsinki, August 3, 2010. I thank Florentino García Martínez, Charlotte Hempel and Jutta Jokiranta for their helpful comments on an earlier draft of this article. © Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2011

DOI: 10.1163/156851711X570445

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A. van der Kooij / Dead Sea Discoveries 18 (2011) 109–128

for several communities of variable size”?2 How to interpret related terms such as “the council,” “the Many,” “the multitude”? What do they tell us about the nature and organization of the yaḥ ad ? Are the terms “the Many” and the yaḥ ad to be taken as synonyms, or are both terms to be distinguished, the yaḥ ad being “the word for the movement in its broadest sense,” and “the Many” as referring “to the gathering of the fully-fellowshipped members for judicial purposes”?3 An important part of the current debate concerns the interpretation of 1QS 8:1—“In the council of the community (there shall be) twelve men and three priests”: Is this note meant to describe the “council” of the community in the sense of an inner council,4 or is it to be seen as “an elite group” within the council of the yaḥ ad, on the assumption that “the council of the yaḥ ad ” is the yaḥ ad itself,5 or is the number twelve plus three rather to be taken “as a reference to the full membership of the community” as a whole?6 In this contribution to the discussion, I will comment on two topics, first on the term yaḥ ad, and secondly on the way the structure of the yaḥ ad is described in 1QS. In dealing with this second point, I will distinguish two types of description as attested in 1QS. In order to understand the organizational models involved, the data will be compared with evidence to be found in other writings of the time both Jewish and non-Jewish. Because of the complexities of the relationship between 1QS and related texts such as 4Q256 and 4Q258, the focus of this article will be on 1QS. Only in a few cases I will refer to these texts.

2

John J. Collins, Beyond the Qumran Community. The Sectarian Movement of the Dead Sea Scrolls (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2010), 67. 3 Alison Schofield, From Qumran to the Yaḥad. A New Paradigm of Textual Development for the Community Rule (STDJ 77; Leiden: Brill, 2009), 146. 4 See, e.g., J. M. Baumgarten, “The Duodecimal Courts of Qumran, Revelation and the Sanhedrin,” JBL 95 (1976): 59–78; Moshe Weinfeld, The Organizational Pattern and the Penal Code of the Qumran Sect. A Comparison with Guilds and Religious Associations of the Hellenistic-Roman Period (NTOA 2; Fribourg: Éditions universitaires, 1986), 16; Encyclopedia of the Dead Sea Scrolls, 1:134 (Charlesworth). 5 Collins, Qumran Community, 71. 6 Sarianna Metso, “Problems in Reconstructing the Organizational Chart of the Essenes,” DSD 16 (2009): 388–415 at 411f.; cf. Michael A. Knibb, “The Community of the Dead Sea Scrolls: Introduction,” DSD 16 (2009): 298–308 at 307.


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II The term yaḥ ad is well-known from the Hebrew Bible where it is used adverbially, conveying the notion of “together.” This usage is also attested in the Dead Sea Scrolls (DSS), but the remarkable thing is that it also occurs as a noun in these writings, mainly so in 1QS. Usually the word is taken by scholars in the sense of “togetherness,” i.e. “community,” be it the community in Qumran, or at other places. As to the question of whether this term might go back to the Hebrew Bible, two passages in particular have been suggested from which the label yaḥ ad might have been drawn: Exod 19:8, and Deut 33:5. In the Sinai narrative of Exod 19, it is stated that the people answered “together/as one ( yaḥ daw),” in saying: “Everything that the Lord has spoken we will do” (v. 8). This passage is seen by some scholars as providing the background of the term yaḥ ad because, like the people of Israel, the Qumran covenanters “were also living together in the wilderness and [. . .] solemnly pledged the same loyalty to the entire Mosaic law.”7 Others think of Deut 33:5 (“When the heads of the people were assembled, yaḥ ad the tribes of Israel”) on the assumption that the term here figures as a noun— i.e., the yaḥ ad of the tribes of Israel—and not as an adverb. Additionally, it is taken as a parallel to the Hebrew word for “assembly” in the preceding verse (“the assembly of Jacob”).8 It is to be asked, however, whether these two passages in the Hebrew Bible provide a clue for the way the word yaḥ ad is used in 1QS and other documents belonging to the DSS. The difficulty is that these writings do not provide any evidence which might support any of these references. Moreover, it is far from certain that yaḥ ad functions as a noun in Deut 33:5 because, just as elsewhere in the Hebrew Bible where yaḥ ad occurs at the beginning of a clause, it is easily understood as “together” (“together

7

James C. VanderKam, “Sinai Revisited,” in Biblical Interpretation at Qumran (ed. M. Henze; Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2005), 44–60 at 51. See also Schofield, New Paradigm, 140f.; Knibb, “Introduction,” 306; D. Timmer, “Sinai ‘Revisited’ again: Further reflections on the Appropriation of Exodus 19-Numbers 10 in 1QS,” RB 115 (2008): 481–98 at 484f. 8 On Deut 33:5, see S. Talmon, “The Sectarian ‫—יחד‬A Biblical Noun,” VT 3 (1953): 133–40 at 134f.; Schofield, New Paradigm, 140, and Collins, Qumran Community, 55.

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[were] the tribes of Israel”).9 Hence, it is unlikely to consider yaḥ ad as parallel to the Hebrew word for “assembly” in the preceding verse. The passage of Exod 19 may represent an important one from a theological perspective, but from a philological point of view it is not clear how the expression “to answer together” might have given rise to the usage of yaḥ ad in the DSS, the more so since the word used there is yaḥ daw, and not yaḥ ad. Instead of looking for the background of the term in the Hebrew Bible,10 I would like to make a proposal which is based on a particular passage to be found in the DSS, 11QTa 57:13. It reads thus: And twelve princes of his people shall be with him, and twelve priests and twelve levites, who shall sit with him together ( yošebim . . . yaḥ ad ) for judgment and for the law. This passage of the Temple Scroll contains the expression yašab yaḥ ad which is not used here in the sense of “dwelling together,” but of “sitting together” because it clearly refers to the meeting of a council, a council in session.11 This sheds light on the term yaḥ ad in 1QS, the more so since the yaḥ ad is depicted in this document as a community sitting together for judgment; see, e.g., 1QS 6:9. True, the sitting together for judgment is not the only thing they did together:—“They shall eat together, together they shall bless and together they shall take counsel” (6:2–3)—, but it is to be noted that the noun yaḥ ad is mainly used for people gathered together as a council. That is why the yaḥ ad is often descibed as “the council of the yaḥ ad,” i.e., 9

For yaḥ ad at the beginning of a clause, see, e.g., Micah 2:12; Ps 98:8. The Septuagint of Deut 33:5 testifies to a reading in the sense of a preposition (“together with”), whereas the Targumim took it as an adverb. 10 The only instance in Scripture where yaḥ ad seems to have been used as a substantive, is 1 Chron 12:8, but this passage (about the heart of David as being “at one” [leyaḥ ad] with others) does not shed light on the usage in the DSS. 11 Cf. Dwight D. Swanson, The Temple Scroll and the Bible. The Methodology of 11QT (STDJ 14; Leiden: Brill, 1995), 134. The complete wording in the passage quoted is yošebim ʿimmo yaḥ ad, “(they shall) sit with him (i.e., the king) together.” The rendering in The Dead Sea Scrolls Study Edition (“who shall sit together with him”) is a bit confusing and misleading as it suggests that they will sit “together with him,” instead of: they all wil sit, including the king, together. The expression used is yašab yaḥ ad, whereas the preposition ʿim has been added in order to include the king as a member of the council.


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the yaḥ ad as council. As has been argued by scholars, and rightly so in my view, “the council of the yaḥ ad is simply the yaḥ ad itself.”12 See, e.g., 1QS 2:24–25: “a yaḥ ad of truth” // “a council of holiness.” Furthermore, the “sitting together” in council reminds one of yet another expression in 1QS, “the session (mošab) of the Many” (6:8, 11; 7:12; see also 1QSa 2:11). The term mošab is not meant here in the sense of “dwelling,” but conveys the notion of an assembly, just as the verb yašab in the expression noted above ( yašab yaḥ ad ).13 As stated above, it is disputed whether “the Many” refers to the same group as the yaḥ ad (as council), or whether, alternatively, both terms should not be taken as synonyms. However, 1QS contains evidence they were considered as referring to the same group. For instance, in 6:9–10 “the Many” is used parallel to “the council of the yaḥ ad.” The same applies to 6:16 where the expressions “council of the Many” and “council of the yaḥ ad ” occur side by side.14 Thus, the term yaḥ ad makes perfect sense if understood in the light of the expression attested in the Temple Scroll, yašab yaḥ ad. If so, one can imagine that the noun yaḥ ad was created in order to designate a group of people “sitting together” in the sense of a council in session. The use of the term mošab is fully in line with this idea, the more so since there is reason to believe that the phrase “the session of the Many” refers to the yaḥ ad as council.15

12

John J. Collins, “Beyond the Qumran Community: Social Organization in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” DSD 16 (2009): 351–69 at 362. See also Charlotte Hempel, “Community Structures in the Dead Sea Scrolls: Admission, Organization, Disciplinary Procedures,” in The Dead Sea Scrolls after Fifty Years. A Comprehensive Assessment (ed. Peter W. Flint and James C. VanderKam; 2 vols.; Leiden: Brill, 1998–1999), 2:68–92 at 78; Metso, “Problems in Reconstructing,” 403f. 13 The word mošab also occurs in CD (12:19, 22; 13:20; 14:3, 17), but except for 14:3 (cf. “to sit” in 14:6!) it is not clear whether it should be translated in the sense of “dwelling,” or as “assembly.” For instance, The Dead Sea Scrolls Study Edition offers “assembly” in most instances, but “those who live in the c[amps” in 14:17. 14 See also Weinfeld, Organizational Pattern, 14; Sarianna Metso, “Qumran Community Structure and Terminology as Theological Statement,” RevQ 20/79 (2002): 429–44 at 442. 15 For this usage of mošab, compare Psalm 107:32 (“the congregation [qahal ] of the people” // “the assembly [mošab] of the elders”).

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III I now come to my second subject matter: the issue of the way the composition of the yaḥ ad is presented in 1QS. As has been shown in current research, the way the yaḥ ad is organized, is marked by a strict hierarchy. It has also become clear that priests, “the sons of Aaron,” also referred to as “the sons of Zadok,” carried special and high authority within “the Many.’16 I will not go into the discussion on the expression “the sons of Zadok,”17 but would like to comment on the idea of an “elite group,” as proposed by Collins on the basis of 1QS 8:1–2. This passage reads thus: In the council of the community (there shall be) twelve men and three priests, perfect in everything that has been revealed from all the law to implement truth, justice, judgment, compassionate love and unassuming behaviour of one to another. The first issue at stake here is the question how to interpret the preposition “in” (“in the council of the community”). Does the text mean to say that the council of the community consists of twelve men and three priests, or does the passage refer to a special group “within” the community council? According to Collins the latter option is the preferable one for two reasons. First, the word “council” should not be taken in the sense of an inner council, but as the yaḥ ad itself (see above), and secondly, this is how they— the twelve men and the three priests—are understood in the immediate context where it says that “they shall be set apart as holy/holiness in the 16

Cf. Collins, Qumran Community, 63. See also Nathan Jastram, “Hierarchy at Qumran,” in Legal Texts and Legal Issues. Proceedings of the Second Meeting of the International Organization for Qumran Studies Cambridge 1996. Published in Honour of Joseph M. Baumgarten (ed. Moshe Bernstein, Florentino García Martínez, and John Kampen; STDJ 23; Leiden: Brill, 1997), 349–76. 17 On this issue, see Heinz-Josef Fabry, “Zadokiden und Aaroniden in Qumran,” in Das Manna fällt auch heute noch: Beiträge zur Geschichte und Theologie des Alten, Ersten Testaments (FS E. Zenger; ed. F. L. Hossfeld and L. SchwienhorstSchönberger; Freiburg: Herder, 2004), 201–17; Charlotte Hempel, “The Sons of Aaron in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in Flores Florentino. Dead Sea Scrolls and Other Early Jewish Studies in Honour of Florentino García Martínez (ed. A. Hilhorst, E. Puech, and E. Tigchelaar; Leiden: Brill, 2007), 207–24; eadem, “Do the Scrolls Suggest Rivalry Between the Sons of Aaron and the Sons of Zadok and If So Was It Mutual?” RevQ 24/93 (2009): 135–53; Metso, “Problems in Reconstructing,” 408–10, and Collins, Qumran Community, 60–65.


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midst of the council of the men of the community” (8:11). Regarding the “they” in this passage he then states: “In the extant text, the antecedent is the group of twelve men and three priests.”18 This statement raises the question of the relationship between the “they” in 8:11 and the special group of 8:1. The extant text, 8:1–12, which is marked by a number of additions, is not easy to understand, but the following observations may suffice in order to answer our question. 1QS 8:11 is preceded by the following clause: “When these have been established in the foundation of the community . . . (then they will be set apart etc.).” This clause clearly refers to the passage of 8:4–10 which is introduced by the following passage: “When these are in Israel the council of the community shall be established in/on truth.” Both passages have some elements in common, namely the demonstrative “these,” and the verb “to establish” (kwn). Since “these” in 8:4 seems to refer to the group of twelve men and three priests in the primary section, 8:1–4, the same can be said of the “these” in 8:10, which in the whole sentence of 8:10–11 is best understood as being the same as the “they” in 8:11. Hence, it is plausible indeed that the “they” of 8:11 refers to the group of people mentioned in 8:1. At the same time, however, the wording of 8:10—“When these have been established in the foundation of the community”—is related to what is said in 8:4–10 as a whole. The interesting thing is that this section speaks of “Aaron” and “Israel,” twice: in 8:5:

a house of holiness for Israel and an assembly of the holy of holies for Aaron; in 8:8–9: the dwelling of the holy of holies for Aaron, a house of perfection and truth in Israel. The distinction between “Aaron” and “Israel,” which is also typical of other passages in 1QS (see below),19 reflects a view which goes back to the priestly source in the Pentateuch. In the book of Numbers, “Israel” is depicted as the lay people consisting of twelve tribes (the list does not include the tribe of Levi!) (Num 1–2), whereas Aaron/Levi is taken as a separate group of people (Num 3–4). This means that the expression “a house . . . for/in Israel” stands for a particular group20 of laymen, whereas the terminology 18 19 20

Qumran Community, 71f. See also CD 1:7; 6:2. Cf. “house for/in.” On the term “house,” see further below.

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concerning Aaron evokes the idea of a particular group of priests. Laymen and priests—this is precisely the way the group in 8:1 is described, twelve men, i.e. laymen, and three priests. One may even go further by claiming that the fifteen are to be equated with the Aaron-Israel references in 8:4– 10. This is likely indeed, because first, as noted above, the “they” of 8:11 are related to the group mentioned in 8:1, secondly, the idea of being set apart as “holy/holiness” in the midst of the council of the community (8:11) fits the way “Aaron” and “Israel” are designated in 8:5–6 (a house of holiness for Israel, and an assembly of holy of holies for Aaron),21 and thirdly, “Aaron” and “Israel” are presented in 8:5–6 as “witnesses of truth,” that is to say, they embody the truth on which the council of the community will be established (8:5). The Aaron-Israel group of people is seen as the foundation of the community. If they have proven themselves in two years time to be of perfect behaviour they will be set apart as holy/holiness in the midst of the council as a whole (8:10–11). All in all, the interpretation of “within” in 8:1 as proposed by Collins turns out to be the right one. The group of fifteen, twelve laymen and three priests, forms a special group within the council of the community, a group which is also designated in 8:4–10 with expressions containing the names of Aaron and Israel respectively. Although it is true that the aims of this group can hardly be distinguished from those of the broader yaḥ ad which was supposed to pursue a life of holiness,22 it is plausible, as Collins points out, that the “elite” group is marked by a higher degree of holiness (cf. 8:11).23 The next question which presents itself concerns the function of this group within the yaḥ ad. What was the role played by this group? Collins is of the opinion that they are not to be seen as an administrative body, but rather set aside for special training.24 This view is based on the idea that beside the passage of 8:1–12 there is no other evidence in 1QS “for the 21

The terminology used here evokes the image of the temple. On this aspect, see, e.g., Francis Schmidt, La pensée du temple. De Jerusalem à Qoumrân. Identité et lieu social dans le judaïsme ancien (Paris: Seuil, 1994), 153; Joseph L. Angel, Otherworldly and Eschatological Priesthood in the Dead Sea Scrolls (STDJ 86; Leiden: Brill, 2010), 89 (he speaks of the community “as the animate embodiment of the image of the ideal temple”). 22 Metso, “Whom Does the Term Yahad Signify?” 230. 23 Collins, Qumran Community, 73. 24 Collins, Qumran Community, 71.


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existence of an elite group within the yaḥ ad.”25 However, in my view there are other passages in 1QS which are important for the issue of the role the special group may have played. To begin with, 1QS 9:5–6 offers a statement which is of interest to our topic: At that moment the men of the community shall set apart a holy house for Aaron, in order to form a community of holy of holies, and a house of community for Israel, those who walk in perfection According to this passage “the men of the yaḥ ad ” shall set apart “a holy house for Aaron” and “a house of community for Israel.” The verb used (bdl ) has a Hiphil form, and is therefore to be translated as they “shall set apart,” and not as they “shall separate themselves.”26 This passage is in line with the picture presented in 8:1–12. Just as in the latter a special group consisting of priests and laymen are said “to be set apart” (bdl in 9:5 as well as in 8:11) in the midst of the community (so 8:11), or by the men of the community (so 9:5–6) respectively. Just as in 8:1–12, the passage of 9:5–6 distinguishes between three groups within the yaḥ ad: a house for Aaron, a house for Israel, and the men of the community at large. Other passages that testify to the same organizational pattern are 1QS 5:6–7 and 1QS 6:8–9. The former reads thus: They should make atonement for all who freely volunteer for holiness in Aaron and for the house of truth in Israel and for those who join them for community.27 And the latter is about the rule of “the session (mošab) of the Many”: Each one by his rank: the priests will sit down first, the elders next, and the remainder of all the people will sit down in order of rank.28

25

Knibb, “Introduction,” 307. For this rendering, see DJD 10:173, and Collins, Qumran Community, 71 (hence, he is of the opinion that this passage does not refer to the “elite” group). 27 Cf. 4Q256 and 4Q258. 28 For a similar picture, see 1QSa 2:11–17. 26

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The terminology in these passages varies, but they all share a composition of the yaḥ ad which consists of three groups: (1) the priests (6:8; 8:1); “a house/assembly/dwelling for Aaron” (5:6; 8:5–6, 8–9); (2) the elders (6:8); the “men,” i.e. laymen (8:1); “a house for/in Israel” (5:6; 8:5, 9); (3) “the remainder of all the people” (6:8–9); “those who join them for community” (5:6); “the men of the community” (9:5–6). The passage about the seating order (6:8–9) displays a terminology which is in line with other sources of the time (see next section), whereas the other instances represent a way of describing the organization which obviously reflects priestly tradition (“Aaron”-“Israel”; see above) and which seems to have been typical of the community itself. Both types of description, though using different terms, refer to the same organization. The passage about the seating order clearly reflects the idea of ranking and hierarchy. So “the priests” are the most important figures, followed by “the elders,” and in the third place, by the remainder of the community. There may be, however, more to it. In Antiquity the order of seating has also to do with the issue of function and position within a larger body. The fact that the priests together with the elders next in rank are seated at the most important places evokes the idea that they are the rulers or presiding officers of the assembly at large.29 As I will argue in the next section, there is evidence which lends support to this suggestion. Finally, a note on terminology may be in order. In the passages quoted above, the term “house”—a house for Aaron, a house for/in Israel—plays a prominent role. It seems to convey a specific connotation referring to a particular body of authorities, just as in the case of the term sod, “assembly,” which occurs as a synonym (1QS 8:8).30 It brings to mind the modern expression “the House of Commons.”

29

Compare for instance the use of proedros en sumproedros in the document quoted by Josephus in Ant. 14:150. Also the verb prokathemai in 1 Esdr 1:30; 5:60; 9:4 is of interest in this regard. 30 This connotation may be based on the usage of “house” in the sense of reigning house; hence, a group or body of leading people. Compare Tg. Isa 8:14: “two houses of leaders of Israel” (for MT “two houses of Israel”).


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IV In order to reach a better understanding of the role of the special group within the commmunity, it seems best to look for analogous organizations in the Hellenistic period, both in Judaism and elsewhere, which may shed light on the organizational pattern of the yaḥ ad as outlined above. Weinfeld has drawn our attention to voluntary associations in the Hellenistic world which provide analogies for the Qumran community, in particular as far as regulations are concerned.31 The correspondences are obvious, and it can be said that the associations referred to by Weinfeld share with the Qumran community the feature of being a voluntary movement. However, these parallels do not help us understand the references to the priests/ house of Aaron and the elders/house in Israel in 1QS as presented above. Given this specific feature it is more appropriate to look for an analogy within the context of Judaism. In my view, the group consisting of priests and laymen/elders is best understood in the light of the Jewish polity of the time, that is to say, of the way the leadership of the Jewish nation was organized. Priests, under the supreme direction of a High Priest, together with a college of elders (the gerousia), were heading the nation. Several documents testify to this structure. For instance, in one of the documents found at Elephantine, dating to the Persian period, we read: (we sent a letter to your lordship and) to Johanan the high priest and his colleagues, the priests who are in Jerusalem, and to Ostanes the brother of Anani, and the nobles of the Jews (Cowley 30,18; italics mine). A story told by Josephus may also serve as an illustration. It is the story about the meeting between Alexander the Great and the High Priest of Jerusalem (Ant. 11,329–339). When the latter, Jaddus, learned that Alexander was not far from the city, “he went out with the priests and the body of citizens” (Ant. 11.329; italics mine). In addition, there are several instances in 1 Maccabees which refer to “priests” and “elders” as being the representatives of the Jewish nation. For instance, 1 Macc 7:33 speaks about “some of the priests from the temple” and “some of the elders of the people.” Other instances are 12:6; 14:20, 28, 44, 47. The passage of 14:28 is interesting as it is part of the Honorary Decree dating to the year 31

Weinfeld, The Organizational Pattern. See also Collins, Qumran Community, 79–85.

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140 B.C.E. It refers to “(the great assembly of ) the priests and the people, the rulers of the nation and the elders of the land.” The phrase “elders of the land” is an explicitation of “the people” (cf. “the elders of the people” in 7:33), hence it is likely to regard the expression “the rulers of the nation” a specification of “the priests.”32 All these passages have in common that the polity of the Jewish nation consisted of a body of representatives, made up by the priests being in office in the temple (cf. “Aaron”), as well as by the lay people, the elders (cf. “Israel”). But what about the third group referred to above, “the remainder of all the people” (1QS 6:9)? This element too can be understood in the light of 1 Maccabees. Passages such as 12:6 and 14:20 speak not only about the priests and the elders, but mention also a third group, designated as “the rest of the demos.” We touch here upon an important matter, the demos of the Jewish nation, i.e., the national assembly, which played a major role in 140 B.C.E., by electing Simon High Priest and Leader. Although it may seem that according to 1 Macc 14:28 (see above) the expression “the great assembly” consisted of “priests” and “people,” there is reason to believe that the phrase envisages a wider group of people. As stated in the same verse (v. 28), the decision taken at the meeting of this assembly, presumably held in the temple, was made known “to us.” Who are the “us”? The “us” is to be understood in the light of v. 25 where it is said that the demos asked themselves “how they could show their gratitude to Simon and his sons.”33 The “us” then has to do, in one way or another, with the demos. Our passage is easily explained in the light of the political organization which was typical of Hellenistic cities of the time.34 Seen from this perspective, the “great 32

See my forthcoming “The Claim of Maccabean Leadership and the Use of Scripture,” in Jewish Identity and Politics between Maccabees and Bar Kokhba (ed. Benedikt Eckhardt and Clemens Leonhard; Leiden: Brill, 2011). 33 Cf. Jan Willem van Henten, “The Honorary Decree for Simon the Maccabee (1 Macc 14:25–49) in Its Hellenistic Context,” in Hellenism in the Land of Israel (ed. John J. Collins and Gregory E. Sterling; Christianity and Judaism in Antiquity Series 13; Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 2001), 116–45 at 120. 34 The situation as attested in 1 Macc 14 seems to differ from Hellenistic cities, because the text does not speak of an assembly of the city ( Jerusalem) only, but also includes the country (cf. “the elders of the land”).


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assembly” is the gathering of the demos, whereas the “priests” (“rulers of the nation”), and “people” (“elders of the country”) were the ones who preside this important meeting (cf. the boule in cities like Athens and Alexandria).35 In light of these data, it is my proposal to regard the yaḥ ad analogous to the demos, the general assembly of the Jewish nation. This explains the marked presence of “priests” and “elders”/“men” in the community council.36 Just as with the role “priests” and “elders” played in the constitution of the Jewish nation it is reasonable to assume that the special group within the yaḥ ad also had the position of leading authorities and functioned as the board of the yaḥ ad.37 For a parallel outside the context of Judaism one may think of the constitution of a city like Carthage where “kings” (or “suffetes”) and “the house of Elders” (to gerontion) made up the leading and aristocratic component of the demos.38 Interestingly, as to the leading role of a group of priests and laymen there is some evidence in other DSS which testifies to the same idea. For example, in CD 10:4–8 we read: And this is the rule of the judges of the congregation. Ten men in number, chosen from among the congregation, for a period: four from the tribe of Levi and of Aaron and six from Israel, learned in the book of Hagy and in the principles of the covenant, between twenty-five and sixty years. And no-one over sixty years should hold the office of judging the congregation.39 This passage is about a body of four priests (from the tribe of Levi and of Aaron)40 and six men of “Israel,” who are designated as the “judges” of the 35

As to Alexandria, see P. M. Fraser, Ptolemaic Alexandria I, Text (Oxford: Clarendon, 1972), 93–95. 36 It is also interesting to note that an expression such as “the Many” was used in Greek sources of the time (hoi polloi ) as a reference to the demos; see, e.g., Polybius, Hist. 6.11.12. 37 It is to be noted that, unlike the term boule in Greek documents (boule in distinction from demos), Hebrew ʿeṣah in 1QS and related documents does not refer to the board of the yaḥ ad. 38 See Polybius, Hist. 6.51.1, and see also Aristotle, Pol. 2.8.2. 39 Cf. 4Q266 and 4Q270. 40 It seems to me that the note on “Aaron” was added in order to make clear that “priests” were meant (cf. “sons of Aaron”), and not levites.

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congregation, thus clearly conveying the notion of a leading position. The congregation is here referred to as ʿedah, and not as yaḥ ad, but this makes no difference since ʿedah is virtual synonym to yaḥ ad or to “the council of the yaḥ ad ” in 1QS and 1QSa.41

V It is important to note, however, that the pattern discussed above is not the only one according to which the organization of the yaḥ ad is presented in 1QS. This document also testifies to an organizational type which is to be distinguished from the type dealt with so far. For instance, 1QS 5:9–10 contains the following statement: in compliance with all that has been revealed of it to the sons of Zadok, the priests who safeguard the covenant and interpret his will, and to the multitude of the men of their covenant who freely volunteer together for this truth and to walk according to his will. This and other passages (5:2–3, 21–22; 6:19)42 are marked by the distinction between two groups, “the priests,” on the one hand, and “the multitude of the men of their covenant,” on the other. The priests, also called “the sons of Zadok” as in 5:2, or “the sons of Aaron” in 5:21, are said to be the ones who safeguard the covenant, and who interpret “his will,” that is to say, the will of God as expressed in the law of the covenant, doing so in the light of what has been “revealed” to them. The second group is called “the multitude of the men of their covenant,” i.e., of the covenant safeguarded by the priests. They are the men who follow and obey the priestly authorities. Who are these men? In 1QS 5:3 they are described as “the multitude of the men of the yaḥ ad.” So the question arises to which part of the yaḥ ad the phrase alludes. Since it goes together with the mentioning of “the priests” it should not be taken as an equivalent of “the Many,” since the latter term includes “the priests.”43 It is rather a 41

See, e.g., 1QS 5:20; 1QSa 2:11–12 (“the community council” // “the congregation of Israel”); see also Schofield, New Paradigm, 142 note. 42 See also 1QSa 1:2–3 (but without the term “multitude”). 43 Cf. Metso, Textual Development, 122; Collins, Qumran Community, 63. As is well known, the passage of 4Q258 2:1 which runs parallel of 1QS 5:2–3, offers “the Many” only.


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reference to all the members of the yaḥ ad with the exception of “the priests.”44 According to this pattern, priests are the leading authorities within the yaḥ ad. This is in line with other passages, such as 1QS 9:7, where it is stated that only the sons of Aaron will have authority in the matter of judgment and of goods. The idea that priests were having a leading position is well known from other sources of the time. According to Hecataeus of Abdera, a Greek historian of ca. 300 B.C.E., the priests were selected by Moses “to head the entire nation.” They should not only occupy themselves with the temple and the sacrificial cult, but were also “appointed to be judges in all major disputes.” It was to them that Moses entrusted “the guardianship of the laws and customs.”45 They did so, of course, under the supreme direction of the High Priest. Or to quote Josephus: “With his colleagues he [i.e., the High Priest, vdK] will sacrifice to God, safeguard the laws, adjudicate in cases of dispute, punish those convicted in crime” (Ag. Ap. 2.194). Thus, a most important duty of the priests, together with the High Priest, was to “safeguard the laws.” This duty is described in 1QS as “safeguarding the covenant” (5:2, 9): “the priests” are presented here as the guardians of the covenant and its laws; they are the ones who “interpret his will” (5:9), which implies that they were authorized to interpret the laws of the covenant.46 But who were these leading priests? A large number of priests, and levites, were engaged in the temple service, but given the strict hierarchy a particular group is to be looked for as carrying the highest authority. One has to think here of the priests, who are designated, both in the New

44

Cf. H. Huppenbauer, “‫ רב‬,‫ רוב‬,‫ רבים‬in den Sektenregel,” TZ 13 (1957): 136–37. The expression “the multitude of men” is typical of 1QS 5:3, 10, whereas 1QS 5:22 and related passages in 4Q258 and 4Q261 speak of “the multitude of Israel.” The passage of 4Q258 1:2, parallel to 1QS 5:2–3, offers “the Many” instead of the twofold expression “the sons of Zadok, the priests [. . .], and the multitude of the men of community” in the latter. Since “the Many” equals the priests + the multitude of the men of the community, as argued above, the difference is not a matter of content, but only as a kind of explicitation in 1QS. 45 See Menahem Stern, ed., Greek and Latin Authors on Jews and Judaism. Vol. 1: From Herodotus to Plutarch ( Jerusalem: Israel Academy of Sciences and Humanities, 1974), 28. 46 Cf. 1QSb 3:22–24. For the priests as interpreters of the law, see also texts such as Deut 33:10; Sir 45:17, and Jub. 31:15.

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Testament and by Josephus, archiereis, “chief priests.” They were the ones who constituted the highest level of the priests acting in the temple, as we know from Josephus and rabbinic sources.47 As has been stated by Jeremias, the “chief priests permanently employed at the Temple formed a definite body who had jurisdiction over the priesthood and whose members had seats and votes on the council (i.e. the Sanhedrin, vdK ).”48 One of the writings from Qumran, 1QM, contains a passage which is illuminating in this regard: 1QM 2:1–3 provides the following picture of the priestly hierarchy in the temple: – The chiefs of the priests behind the High Priest and of his second (in rank), twelve priests to serve continually before God; – The twenty-six chiefs of the divisions; – The chiefs of the Levites to serve continually, twelve; – The chiefs of their divisions. The “chiefs of the priests,” representing the highest rank, are to be equated with the “chief priests” just mentioned.49 They were the ones who, together with the High Priest, were making up the priestly rule of the Jewish nation. In the light of these data it can be said that “the priests” of 1QS 5:2 and related passages are to be seen as leading priests having a position like the chiefs of the priests in the temple. (Interestingly, another document of Qumran, 4Q164, to which Metso has drawn attention,50 contains a reference to “the twelve [chiefs of the priests]” as being part of the community council).51 Unlike the pattern consisting of priests, elders, and the remainder of all the people, the way of describing the structure as composed of “the priests” and “the multitude of men” reflects a strong focus on the role of the priests—without the elders—as the most important authorities. It is to be

47

See Joachim Jeremias, Jerusalem in the Time of Jesus. An Investigation into Economic and Social Conditions during the New Testament Period (London: SCM Press, 1976), 147–80. 48 Jeremias, Jerusalem, 180. 49 Arie van der Kooij, Die alten Textzeugen des Jesajabuches. Ein Beitrag zur Textgeschichte des Alten Testaments (OBO 35; Freiburg: Universitätsverlag, 1981), 201. 50 Metso, “Problems in Reconstructing,” 411. 51 As indicated, the phrase “the chiefs of the priests” is a reconstruction, albeit a very plausible one.


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noted that this presentation is related to the role of the leading priests as the guardians of the covenant and interpreters of its laws. As noted above, in two of the relevant passages in 1QS (5:2, 9) these priests are designated as “the sons of Zadok,” whereas in 5:21 the more common expression “the sons of Aaron” is employed. Both wordings seem to be used here synonymously,52 but it may well be that the former is meant to mark the legitimacy of “the priests” as the leading authorities on the basis of Ezek 44:15.53

VI In the final section, I would like to make the following concluding remarks and comments. 1. The term ‫ יחד‬employed as a noun in 1QS makes perfect sense if understood in the light of the expression of “sitting together” in 11QTa 57. This usage fits the yaḥ ad as council (cf. “the council of the yaḥ ad ”), and is also supported by the fact that the yaḥ ad is presented as a community of people who were sitting together (cf. mošab in 6:8).54 2. Instead of comparing the yaḥ ad with associations or guilds of the time, as Weinfeld has proposed, it seems more appropriate to regard the yaḥ ad (as council) in 1QS analogous to the demos in the sense of the national or general assembly. This explains the description of the organization as consisting of priests, elders, and the remainder of all the people. 3. In the light of this analogy, the special group (Collins: “elite group”) consisting of priests and laymen—i.e., representatives of the temple (priests; house of Aaron) and of the lay people (men; elders; house of/ in Israel)—is best understood as a board within the yaḥ ad as a whole.

52

This seems also to be the case in 1QSa. For the expression “the sons of Aaron,” see also the related passage in 4Q258 2:1. 53 There is of course more to be said on this issue. For literature on the topic, see note 17. As to Ezek 44:15, see also CD 3:21–4:4. 54 I fully agree with Jutta Jokiranta that 1QS has more to do “with assemblies than with communities” (Jutta Jokiranta, “An Experiment on Idem Identity in the Qumran Movement,” DSD 16 [2009]: 309–29 at 328).

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4.

5.

6.

7.


As is also indicated by the seating order in 1QS 6, the priests and the elders were the most important people within the yaḥ ad.55 To add a note on the issue of equivalents in Greek: It has been suggested that the term yaḥ ad equals to koinon.56 However, it seems to me that to sunedrion corresponds to yaḥ ad as it also conveys the notion of sitting together, whereas to koinon is rather to be seen as the equivalent of Hebrew ḥ eber, a term which is well known from Hasmonean coins (“the ḥ eber of the Jews,” presumably a reference to the demos).57 In light of the above, the “men of the yaḥ ad ” in 1QS are not to be seen as making up the movement as a whole, but as referring to the fully initiated members, i.e., those who were admitted to have a seat in the yaḥ ad.58 The issue of celibacy is a debated matter.59 How to explain the silence on this matter in 1QS? In my view, the silence is fully understandable because women were not supposed to be member of the yaḥ ad, just as this was the case with a general assembly (demos). The “men of the yaḥ ad ” were just men, but not celibates. Beside the organizational type consisting of three groups (see 2), 1QS also speaks of the yaḥ ad as consisting of “the priests” and “the multitude of Israel/men.” This way of describing the community does not reflect another tradition, but is meant to underline the authority of the leading 55

The numbers of the members of the board—priests, and men/elders—vary: 3 + 12 in 1QS (cf. 4Q265), 4 + 6 in CD (cf. 4Q266 and 4Q270), 12 + 12 in 4Q164 (see also 11QTa). They all are of a symbolical nature. 56 See, e.g., Weinfeld, Organizational Pattern, 13. 57 Tessa Rajak, The Jewish Dialogue with Greece and Rome: Studies in Cultural and Social Interaction (AGAJU, 48; Leiden: Brill, 2001), 54. For the term ḥ eber, see also J. Hoftijzer and K. Jongeling, Dictionary of the North-West Semitic Inscriptions. Part One (HdO, 1. Abt., Bd. 21; Leiden: Brill, 1995), 347 (“community, kind of collegium or senate”). 58 Compare Josephus, J. W. 2.129: “they gather together in a private dwelling place, into which none of the uninitiated is permitted to enter.” He is referring here to the common meals. For the relationship between Josephus’s Essenes and the Qumran community regarding the communal meals, see Kenneth Atkinson and Jodi Magness, “Josephus’s Essenes and the Qumran Community,” JBL 129 (2010): 317–42, esp. 329–33. On the meals, see also Benedikt Eckhardt, “Meals and Politics in the Yahad: A Reconsideration,” DSD 17 (2010): 180–209. 59 See, e.g., Eyal Regev, “Cherchez les femmes: Were the yaḥ ad Celibates?” DSD 15 (2008): 253–84; Collins, Qumran Community, 150f.


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priests, the “chief priests,” as the guardians and interpreters of the covenant and its laws. 8. It is to be noted that 1QS testifies to a third way of describing the yaḥ ad, not dealt with above. This type reflects a perspective different from the two descriptions mentioned above, as it is marked by a listing of particular categories of people within the community: “priests,” “levites,” “all the people,” i.e., laymen (1QS 2:19–22). For a similar case, see CD 14:5–6 (including “the strangers,” or “proselytes,” as fourth group). 9. The terminology to be found in 1QS 6:8–9—priests, elders, and the remainder of the people—is in line with what is known from other sources of the time. However, the wording in the other passages (1QS 5:6–7; 8:5; 8:8–9; 9:5–6) seems to be typical of the community itself. It clearly reflects priestly interests since it is not only based on the distinction between “Aaron” and “Israel,” but is also marked by expressions related to the temple (cf., e.g., “the holy of holies” in 1QS 9:6) as well as by a strong emphasis on the notion of holiness. 10. Finally, I would like to make a brief comment on the passage about the Ten in 1QS 6:3–4: In every place where there are ten men of the community council, there should not be missing amongst them a priest I agree with Collins that the preposition min should be understood here as partitive.60 But how to read this passage? It is clear that this passage presupposes a number of places where the men of the yaḥ ad were living. According to Collins, “members living in villages and towns . . . were just as much members of the yaḥ ad as those in a larger community” (68). Hence his idea that yaḥ ad is “an umbrella term for several communities of variable size” (67). As may be clear from the above, I do not share the idea of yaḥ ad as an umbrella term for the movement as a whole, but as a term which refers to a particular group of people, namely, “the men of the yaḥ ad ” as defined above (see 5). So, if ten men belonging to this group, who happened to live 60

Collins, Qumran Community, 68. The passage on the Ten is debated. For a summary statement of the current debate and the divergent views that has been put forward, see Charlotte Hempel, “Shared Traditions: Points of Contact between S and D,” in The Dead Sea Scrolls. Transmission of Traditions and Production of Texts (ed. Sarianna Metso, Hindy Najman, and Eileen Schuller; STDJ 92; Leiden: Brill, 2010), 115–31 at 124 (lit.).

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together at the same place—be it a city or a camp—were to meet at their own locality,61 then a priest, being an expert of the law, should not be missing.62 However, when the large assembly, the council of the yaḥ ad, was going to meet, one can easily imagine that the “men of the yaḥ ad,” though living at several places, gathered at a particular place (Qumran?). “Sitting together” as a council in session does not necessarily imply the living together of all its members at one and the same locality. To give an example: all those who were attending the large assembly in the year 140 B.C.E., in the temple, were not living in Jerusalem because at least some of them, “the elders of the country,” came from elsewhere. Interestingly, the distinction between a large assembly and small groups of ten is in line with what Josephus tells us about the Essenes ( J.W. 2.145–146). According to this passage, the former should be an assembly of “not less than one hundred members,” and only the decisions reached by this meeting were immutable.

61 62

Compare Josephus, J.W. 2.146: “if ten are sitting together.” See also CD 13:2.


brill.nl/dsd

Pesher and Periodization1 Shani Tzoref [email protected]

Abstract This study re-examines the use of the term pesher, and the related root ‫פתר‬, in Qumran compositions, and their significance with respect to conceptions of determinism and periodization in the corpus. It discusses how the treatment of the book of Genesis in 4Q180, 4Q252, and the Admonitions sections of the Damascus Document reflect a worldview and hermeneutic that are generally associated with the continuous and thematic pesharim at Qumran. Pesher compositions reveal how scripture is fulfilled in current events. These related works demonstrate the fulfillment of the divine grand plan in scripture and past events. It is suggested that these texts share a “performative” aspect: in all of these compositions, the act of transmitting divinely-revealed knowledge is as much an actualization and fulfillment of eschatological expectations as the unfolding social and political history that is tied to the texts. Keywords pesher; periodization; Jubilees; 4Q252; 4Q180; Qumran; performative texts 1

This article is the last of a series of three publications based upon a paper I delivered at the Fifteenth World Congress of Jewish Studies in Jerusalem, in August 5, 2009. The oral presentation was entitled, “4Q252 and the Heavenly Tablets.” The first of these articles will appear in a Festschrift dedicated to the memory of Prof. Hanan Eshel: Shani Tzoref, “4Q252: Listenwissenschaft and Covenantal Patriarchal Blessings,” in “Go Out and Study the Land” (Judg 18:2): Historical and Archaeological Studies in Honor of Hanan Eshel (ed. Aren Maeir, Jodi Magness, and Lawrence H. Schiffman; Leiden: Brill, forthcoming). The second article is “Covenantal Election in 4Q252 and Jubilees’ Heavenly Tablets,” DSD 18 (2011): 74–89. I am grateful to Prof. Eibert Tigchelaar, Prof. Moshe Bernstein, and Prof. Hanan Eshel ‫ ז"ל‬for their feedback on drafts of these publications, and to the anonymous reviewers of DSD for their very helpful comments on this article. © Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2011

DOI: 10.1163/156851711X570436

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S. Tzoref / Dead Sea Discoveries 18 (2011) 129–154

The Qumran pesharim are generally considered classic exemplars of “sectarian” writings, featuring the distinctive terminology, socio-political alignments, and theological beliefs that characterize the Qumran community.2 Examination of the use of the term pesher, and the related root ‫פתר‬, in non-pesher compositions from Qumran can help us understand broader traditions that underlie the theology expressed in the pesharim. In the first section of this study, I demonstrate that 4Q180 (Pesher on the Periods A), 4Q252 (Commentary on Genesis A), and the Admonitions sections of the Damascus Document share core mythical conceptions of determinism and periodization, especially as pertaining to a belief in eternal records engraved on Heavenly Tablets. In the second section, I explore the philological significance of the use of ‫פתר‬/‫ פשר‬in these compositions.3 Finally, I conclude with a brief re-assessment of Qumran pesher.

1. Dualistic Determinism: From Urzeit to Endzeit In the following discussion, I build primarily upon the work of Devorah Dimant, as well as that of Ida Fröhlich.4 The periodized schematization of 2

For a through recent treatment of the classification of “sectarian” and “nonsectarian” texts, with emphasis on sectarian terminology, see Devorah Dimant, “Criteria for the Identification of Qumran Sectarian Texts,” in The Qumran Scrolls and Their World (2 vols.; ed. Menahem Kister; Jerusalem: Yad Ben Zvi, 2009), 1:49–86 [Hebrew]. See also the response of Menahem Kister, “Some Further Thoughts on Identifying the Sectarian Writings at Qumran,” ibid., 87–90. A preliminary discussion in English appears in Devorah Dimant, “The Qumran Manuscripts: Contents and Significance,” in Time to Prepare the Way in the Wilderness: Papers on the Qumran Scrolls by Fellows of the Institute of Advanced Studies in the Hebrew University, Jerusalem, 1989–1990 (ed. Devorah Dimant and Lawrence H. Schiffman; STDJ 16; Leiden: Brill, 1995), 23–58, esp. 30–32. 3 Unless otherwise stated, citations and English translations of Qumran texts are taken from The Dead Sea Scrolls Reader (Vols. 1–6; ed. Donald W. Parry and Emanuel Tov; Leiden: Brill, 2004–2005). For CD, I have relied upon the text and translation in Joseph M. Baumgarten and Daniel R. Schwartz, “Damascus Document,” in PTSDSSP 2:4–57, with some modification. 4 See Devorah Dimant, “The ‘Pesher on the Periods’ (4Q180 and 4Q181),” IOS 9 (1979): 77–102; eadem, “Ages of Creation,” in EDSS 1.11–13; Ida Fröhlich, “The Biblical Narratives in Qumran Exegetical Works (4Q252; 4Q180; The


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history is a hallmark of “historical apocalypses,”5 but the belief is also attested in contemporary Jewish writings of other genres.6 It is prominent in a variety of compositions preserved at Qumran, including some of the distinctive sectarian works. A significant component of the Qumran community’s self-perception is the belief that its members have been given privileged access to divinely-revealed knowledge, concerning both halakah and transcendental existential realities. The progressive

Damascus Document),” in Qumranstudien: Vorträge und Beiträge der Teilnehmer des Qumranseminars auf dem internationalen Treffen der Society of Biblical Literature, Münster, 25.–26. Juli 1993 (ed. Heinz-Josef Fabry, Armin Lange, and Hermann Lichtenberger; Schriften des Institutum Judaicum Delitzschianum 4; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1994), 111–24; eadem, “‘Narrative Exegesis’ in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in Biblical Perspectives: Early Use and Interpretation of the Bible in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls. Proceedings of the First International Symposium of the Orion Center for the Study of the Dead Sea Scrolls and Associated Literature, 12–14 May 1996 (ed. Michael E. Stone and Esther G. Chazon; STDJ 28; Leiden: Brill), 81–99. See also, George J. Brooke, “The Thematic Content of 4Q252,” JQR 85,1–2 (1994) [33–57], 56–57; Jonathan G. Campbell, The Exegetical Texts (CQS 4; London: T & T Clark, 2004), 18. 5 Thus, e.g., Daniel; the Apocalypse of Weeks and the Animal Apocalypse in 1 Enoch; and 4 Ezra. See John J. Collins, The Apocalyptic Imagination (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1998), 6–7. 6 And in non-Jewish literature. See, inter alia, Jacob Licht, “Time and Eschatology in Apocalyptic Literature and Qumran,” JJS 16 (1965): 177–82; Robert G. Hall, Revealed Histories: Techniques for Ancient Jewish and Christian Historiography ( JSPSup 6; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1991), 61–121. On Hellenistic traditions concerning “four kingdoms,” see Collins, Apocalyptic Imagination, 92–98 and the literature cited there. On the “sabbatical eschatology” found in Jer 25 and 29, Dan 9, and 11QMelch, see, inter alia, Collins, ibid., 108–9; George W. Buchanan, The Consequences of The Covenant (Leiden: Brill, 1970), 9–17; Mark Leuchter, “Jeremiah’s 70-Year Prophecy and the ‫ ששך‬/‫ לב קמי‬Atbash Codes,” Bib 85 (2004): 503–22 at 509 (though Leuchter supposes that there was not widespread familiarity with the Esarhaddon inscription among biblical authors and their readers; 515); Hanan Eshel, “4Q390, the 490-Year Prophecy, and the Calendrical History of the Second Temple Period,” in Enoch and Qumran Origins: New Light on a Forgotten Connection (ed. Gabriele Boccaccini et al.; Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2005), 102–10; John S. Bergsma, The Jubilee from Leviticus to Qumran: A History of Interpretation (Leiden: Brill, 2007).

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attainment of revelation concerning God’s plan served simultaneously as cause, effect, and aim of their way of life.7 Among the community’s eschatological beliefs was the idea that history would culminate with perfect knowledge of the law8 and of God’s mysteries.9 Chief among the secrets that are revealed over time, is the divine system of proper calendrical calculation and of reward and punishment. Dimant observed that in Qumran sectarian works, “allusions mentioning Periods and generations . . . usually appear in the context of predestination teaching.”10 She further 7

See Shani Tzoref, “The ‘Hidden’ and the ‘Revealed’: Esotericism, Election, and Culpability in Qumran and Related Literature,” in The Dead Sea Scrolls at 60: The Scholarly Contributions of NYU Faculty and Alumni (ed. Lawrence H. Schiffman and Shani Tzoref; STDJ 89; Leiden: Brill, 2010), 299–324; Jacob Licht, “The Doctrine of ‘Times’ according to the Sect of Qumran and other ‘Computers of Seasons,’” EI 8 (1967) (E. L. Sukenik Memorial volume; Hebrew), 63–70 at 63, where he cites 1QS 8:15, 9:12–15, 19–20; CD 12:20–21 regarding progressive sectarian revelation; Cana Werman,“What is the Book of Hagu?” in Sapiential Perspectives: Wisdom Literature in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls. Proceedings of the Sixth International Symposium of the Orion Center for the Study of the Dead Sea Scrolls and Associated Literature, 20–22 May, 2001 (ed. John J. Collins, Gregory E. Sterling, and Ruth A. Clements; STDJ 51; Leiden: Brill, 2004), 125–40, esp. 126–27. 8 See, e.g., CD 12: 22–13:1, “And this (is) the rule for the settlers of [the] c[amps] . . . until the rising of the Messiah of Aaron and Israel”; 1QS 9:9–11, “They shall deviate from none of the teachings of the Law, whereby they would walk in their willful heart completely. They shall govern themselves using the original precepts by which the men of the Yahad began to be instructed, doing so until there come the Prophet and the Messiahs of Aaron and Israel.” (In viewing this statement as a reference to anticipation of perfect knowledge of the law, I follow, inter alia, Jacob Licht, The Rule Scroll: A Scroll from the Wilderness of Judea ( Jerusalem: Bialik Institute, 1965), ad loc, 190 and 188 [Hebrew]; and Joseph M. Baumgarten, “Mutability and Immutability in Sectarian Law,” in idem, Qumran Cave 4. XIII: The Damascus Document (4Q266–273) (DJD 18; Oxford; Clarendon, 1996), 16–18. Contra Daniel R. Schwartz, “Qumran and Early Christianity,” in Kister, ed., The Qumran Scrolls and Their World, 2:613–28 at 625 [Hebrew]. 9 On conceptions of the end of days in sectarian writings, see Cana Werman, “Eschatology at Qumran,” in Kister, ed., The Qumran Scrolls and Their World, 2:529–49 [Hebrew]. The association between knowledge and experience of historical and eschatological fulfillment is also found in related circles. Cf. Jub. 23, and the discussion of this text by James L. Kugel, “The Jubilees Apocalypse,” DSD 1 (1994): 322–37. Werman cites this chapter as well (ibid., 540), but she views Jubilees as a Qumran sectarian work. 10 Dimant, “The ‘Pesher on the Periods,’” 98, citing 1QS 3:13–15; 1QHa 9:17–21 (Suk. 1:15–19); CD 2:8–10.


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noted that the “mysteries and great deeds of God: the planning, creating and managing of the universe . . . are the subject of the sect’s special knowledge and are revealed only through divine inspiration.”11 A particular interest in the initial and final periods of human history, with a distinct dualistic perspective, characterizes 4Q180,12 the Admonitions of the Damascus Document, and 4Q252. Table 1 illustrates the similarity in the specific events presented in these different lists, which also align with the events found in the non-legal passages attributed to the Heavenly Tablets in the Book of Jubilees.13

11

Ibid., 100, citing 1QS 9:18; 1QHa 9:23; 12:28; 15:30; 12:15–18 (Suk. 1:21; 4:27; 7:27; 12:12–13). 12 4Q180 Pesher on the Periods A was first published in 1968 by John M. Allegro under the title “Ages of Creation.” (See John M. Allegro, DJD 5:77–80.) J. J. M. Roberts used the title “The Wicked and the Holy” (PTSDSSP 2 [1995]: 204–13). Devorah Dimant, in her encyclopedia entry on the composition, stated that “a more suitable title would be the one provided by the work itself (4Q180 1.1): Pesher on the Periods” (eadem, “Ages of Creation,” in EDSS 1:11), and this is the title she uses in her seminal treatment of 4Q180–4Q181, eadem, “The ‘Pesher on the Periods’ (4Q180 and 4Q181).” 4Q181 (Pesher on the Periods B) is a closely related work that has been identified by some scholars as an additional copy of the same composition. See John Strugnell, “Notes en marge du volume V des ‘Discoveries in the Judaean Desert of Jordan,’” RevQ 7 (1970): 163–276 at 252–55; 248–52; Campbell, The Exegetical Texts, 67–77, and the additional bibliography cited there, 77. Dimant refutes the identification of 4Q181 with 4Q180 in Dimant, “On Righteous and Sinners: 4Q181 Reconsidered,” in Manières de penser dans l’Antiquité méditerranéenne et orientale: Mélanges offerts à Francis Schmidt par ses élèves, ses collègues et ses amis (ed. Christophe Batsch and Mădălina Vartejanu-Joubert; JSJSup 134; Leiden: Brill, 2009), 61–85. 13 I.e, those passages in the book of Jubilees that ascribe records of human nature and events to Heavenly Tablets. For the argument that 4Q252 is structured as a list of blessings and curses upon the elect in Genesis and their offspring, see Tzoref, “4Q252: Listenwissenschaft.” For a more detailed discussion of the comparison between 4Q252 and the Heavenly Tablets records in Jubilees, see Tzoref, “Covenantal Election.” The basis for viewing these passages as a unified collection is also discussed there. Cf. James L. Kugel, “On the Interpolations in the Book of Jubilees” RevQ 24/94 (2009): 215–72. On the “Heavenly Tablets” in Jubilees see Cana Werman, “The ‘Torah’ and the ‘Teʿudah’ Engraved on the Tablets,” DSD 9 (2002): 75–103; Liora Ravid, “The Special Terminology of the Heavenly Tablets in the Book of Jubilees, Tarbiz 68/4 (1999): 463–71 [Hebrew].

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Table 1 CD 2:17–3:4

4Q180

2:18 Watchers 1 7–9 Watchers 2:19 Sons of Watchers 3:1 Sons of Noah 1 4 Sons of Noah

3:2 Abraham counted as “a friend”

2–4 i–ii 4 Abraham (= Gen 17)

4Q252

Jubilees “testimonies” in HT ?14

Flood; Sons of Noah 5:13 judgment; 5:19 Noah’s sons saved on account of Noah Abraham is 16:3 predicted birth God’s “friend”; of Isaac; 19: 9 entry into land; Abraham recorded promised a as God’s “friend”; covenant with son, Ch. 15, 16 Isaac Ishmael’s non-election of 12 princes Ishmael Sodom and 16:9 uprooting of Lot’s Gomorrah descendants, like Sodom

2–4 ii 4–8 Sodom and Gomorrah (= Gen 18, 19) 5–6 Mt. Moriah: Binding of Isaac 3:3 Isaac and Jacob counted as “friends Binding of Isaac of God,” and (Gen 21; following eternal members Milik, Books of Blessing of Jacob of the covenant Enoch, 252)15

18:18–19 Passover commemorates Binding of Isaac; 32:16–29 Bethel revelation; Jacob reads seven Heavenly Tablets Eradication of 24:33 uprooting of Amalek, probably as the Philistines, fulfilling pertaining to Isaac’s a curse by Isaac; pronouncements to 36:9–11 uprooting of his sons Esau

14

The episode of the Watchers is not one of the events explicitly attributed to the Heavenly Tablets in Jubilees, but see Jub. 4:22–24, where it is written of Enoch that “he testified to the Watchers, who had sinned with the daughters of men . . . and we led him into the Garden of Eden for (his) greatness and honour. Now he is there writing down the condemnation and judgment of the world, and all the wickedness of the children of mankind.” Translation from James C. VanderKam, The Book of Jubilees (Leuven: Peeters, 1989), 27–28. 15 Józef T. Milik, Books of Enoch: Aramaic Fragments of Qumran Cave 4 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1976).


135

Table 1 (cont.) CD 2:17–3:4 3:4 Sons of Jacob strayed and were punished

4Q180

4Q252

Jubilees “testimonies” in HT

“Blessings of Jacob” (for end of days, each son “according to his blessing”)

30:17–33; 31:32 Simeon and Levi, Judah, all men inscribed as enemy or friend; judgment for him and his descendants

The similarity in the selection of passages from Genesis in the comparanda points to a common underlying tradition. The alignment across the four compositions is not absolute, and there is some variation that reflects the distinctive character of each. The Damascus Document and 4Q180 are interested in the ante-diluvian period, which is not reflected in the other compilations;16 The Damascus Document is not interested in any of the discontinued patriarchal lines of Lot, Ishmael, and Esau that are represented in 4Q252 and the Jubilees testimonies.17 But it is clear that all of the 16

Marcus Tso observes an important difference between these parallel sections of CD and 4Q180. Significant weight is given to free will in the passage in CD, following Deut 29:8 (“walking in the stubbornness of their heart”) and its reverberations in Jeremiah. 4Q180 seems more similar to 1 Enoch and Jubilees in blaming the fallen angels for the introduction of evil into the world. See Marcus Tso, “The Uses of Scriptural Traditions at Qumran for the Construction of Ethics,” in The Hebrew Bible in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls (ed. Armin Lange et al.; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, forthcoming). On the proposal that the centrality of extreme dualistic determinism, once considered foundational to Qumran thought, may actually be a late development in the thought of the community, see Charlotte Hempel, “ The Teaching on the Two Spirits and the Literary Development of the Rule of the Community,” in Dualism in Qumran (ed. Geza Xeravits; LSTS; London: T & T Clark, 2010), 102–20. 17 Thus, 4Q180 2–4 and 8 ii 5–7; Jub. 16:9; 20: 5–6; T. Naph. 3:4. Eibert Tigchelaar surmises that the reason for the omission of Sodom from the dualistic historical review in CD is that the men of Sodom were not part of the Covenant. See Eibert Tigchelaar, “Sodom and Gomorrah and the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in Sodom’s Sin: Genesis 18–19 and Its Interpretations (ed. Ed Noort and Eibert Tigchelaar; TBN 7; Leiden: Brill, 2004), 47–62 (50). His rationale may be supported by the association of Sodom with the Watchers in 4Q180, Jub. 20, and T. Naph., and

136


texts are interested in tracing history through periods, and in reading Genesis with a sensitivity to a dualistic assessment of humanity as friends or enemies of God, and to resultant punishment or reward. The concept of covenant is central in all of these texts. In the extant text of 4Q252, this worldview is largely implicit. The other works offer more self-conscious descriptions of their agendas. Thus, 4Q180 begins with the following title and introduction: Pesher concerning the Periods made by God, (each) Period in order to terminate [all that is] and all that will be. Before he created them, he set up their activi[ties . . .], one Period after another. And it is engraved on the Tablets [of Heaven . . . according to a]ll(?) the Periods of their dominions.18 In comparing the Damascus Document to 4Q180, both Dimant and Fröhlich focused upon the list of sinners and righteous represented above in Table 1, which is found in the section of the Damascus Document conventionally identified as the “Third Admonition” in the exhortatory portion of the composition. The previous section of CD 2, the “Second Admonition” of 2:7–13, is also important in this context: before they were established he knew their works. And he despised the generations (in which) they [st]ood and hid his face from the land from (. . .) until their completion. And he knew the years they would stand and the number(s) and detail(s) of their periods (‫ומספר ופרוש‬ ‫ )קציהם‬of all that exist for eternity and that which unfolds until what will come (‫ )עד מה יבוא‬in their periods (‫)בקציהם‬, according to all the years of eternity. And during all of them (God) raised up for himself those called by name so as to leave a remnant for the land and to fill the face of the world from their seed vacat And he informed them with the non-elect line of Lot in Jub. 16. It is precisely their non-covenantal status that is useful to the authors of these texts. See Tzoref, “Covenantal Election,” 85–88; and see Tigchelaar’s comments on the use of the Sodom narrative in the “actualizing or eschatological exegesis” of 4Q177 4 10 (ibid., 60–62). Compare the treatment of Lot in Jubilees to that in Wisd 10:1–14, where Lot appears in a list of righteous patriarchs: “[Wisdom] rescued a righteous man [Lot] when the ungodly were perishing; he escaped the fire that descended on the Five Cities.” See James L. Kugel, “Jubilees, Philo, and the Problem of Genesis,” in Lange et al., eds., The Hebrew Bible in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls (forthcoming). 18 Translation from Dimant, “Pesher on the Periods” [italics are mine—ST].


137

(‫ )ויודיעם‬by the hand of the anointed of his holy spirit and the seers of his truth, of the details of their names.19 But those whom he hated, he caused to stray. 1.1

Revelation Concerning Engraved Periods

In the Second Admonition of the Damascus Document just cited, the history of mankind is described as known eternally by God, according to set periods (‫)מספר ופרוש קציהם‬.20 The text asserts the belief that God reveals knowledge of the unfolding of these periods (‫ )יבוא בקציהם‬to elect men, informing them (‫ )ויודיעם‬by means of prophets, and that He explicitly names the elect—as is done in the texts in Table 1, above. When 4Q180

19

The text in CD A reads ‫וחוזי אמת ובפרוש שמו שמותיהם‬. The above translation reflects the editors’ correction on the basis of 4QDa [‫בפרוש שמותי]הם‬. I have translated “seers of his truth” rather than retaining Baumgarten and Schwartz’s “who view his truth,” because I think that this better reflects the prophetic significance of the expression, which describes those who were anointed with the divine spirit and were recipients of divine information. On the role of these “visionaries,” and comparison of this passage with 1QM 11:7–8 (“By the hand of your anointed ones, seers of things appointed (‫)תעודות‬, You have told us about the time[es of ] ([‫ )ק]צי‬the wars of Your hands”), see Alex P. Jassen, Mediating the Divine: Prophecy and revelation in the Dead Sea Scrolls and Second Temple Judaism (STDJ 68; Leiden: Brill, 2007), 67–72. 20 On ‫קץ‬, see Devorah Dimant, “Criteria for the Identification of Qumran Sectarian Texts,” 73–74. See also Licht, “The Doctrine,” 65; he cites CD 4:7–11; 1QpHab 7:1–2; 7–8; 10–11 (interpreting Hab 2:2–4), and 1QS 3:13–15. There are well over a hundred concordance entries for the term in the classic “sectarian” scrolls Damascus Document, Community Rule, Pesher Habakkuk and other pesharim, War Scroll, and Hodayot, and some prominence is also evident in 4QInstruction (4Q415–418; 4Q423); and the prayer texts 4Q508–4Q511. See Martin G. Abegg Jr., with James E. Bowley, and Edward M. Cook, in consultation with Emanuel Tov, The Dead Sea Scrolls Concordance. Vols. 1–2: The Non-Biblical Texts from Qumran (Leiden: Brill, 2003), s.v. “‫קץ‬,” 2:656–58. In discussing the sectarian valence of the term, Dimant (ibid.) calls particular attention to the occurrences in the plural, in CD 2:9–10; 16:2; 1QS 1:14; 3:15; 4:13, 16; 1QSb 4:26, 5:18; 1QHa 5:15, 9:18; and 11Q13 1 ii 20, and to collocations that indicate dualism and determinism, especially periodization. Cana Werman associates ‫ קץ‬with ‫רז‬, as well as ‫( עת‬esp. CD 12: 20–21 ‫)עת ועת‬, ‫עתים‬, and ‫( תעודה‬Werman, “Eschatology at Qumran,” in Kister, ed., The Qumran Scrolls, 529–49).

138


outlines some of these designated times, the periods (‫ )קצים‬of humanity, it seems to refer to two of these periods in particular: a set of ten generations beginning with Noah and ending with Abraham, and another period beginning with Abraham. This same division is found in 4Q252, where the division between Noah and Abraham is highlighted by the use of vacats in the extant manuscript.21 This use of the term ‫קץ‬, particularly in collocation with ‫בו"א‬, to indicate divine revelation concerning the unfolding of human history, is shared by three of the compositions in our table, appearing in CD 2:7 and 4Q180, and in the difficult phrase ‫ בא קצם לנוח‬in 4Q252.22

Cf. m. ʾAbot 5:2–3, which similarly connects the concepts of periodization and reward and punishment with these generations: “Ten generations were there from Adam to Noah, to show how great was His long-suffering; for all the generations were provoking him, till He brought the deluge upon them. Ten generations were there from Noah to Abraham, to show how great was His long-suffering; for all the generations were provoking Him till Abraham our father came, and received the reward of them all.” Cf. Tzoref, “4Q252: Listenwissenschaft.” 22 Lim discusses the connection between this phrase in 4Q252 and Gen 6:13 ‫( קץ כל בשר בא לפני‬NRSV: “I have determined to make an end of all flesh”). See Timothy H. Lim, “The Chronology of the Flood Story in a Qumran Text,” JJS 43 (1992): 288–98 at 291. Given the technical use of the term ‫ קץ‬in the Qumran corpus, and the nature of 4Q252, it seems most reasonable to view the phrase as both responding to Gen 6:13 and deliberately employing a theologically loaded term. There are six occurrences of the term ‫ קץ‬in the Noah pericope of 4Q252. Scholars who have sought thematic unity in 4Q252 have struggled with the problem of how to fit this long chronological passage into the composition as a whole. Some light is shed on this question when we view 4Q252 as a composition concerned with revelation, calculation, and the fulfillment of predicted times and episodes of punishment and salvation. Just as the pesher concerning Reuben in this work relates to the actualization of a predetermined event—in that case, a punishment for sin (see below), so too does the enumeration of set periods in the Noah pericope, as well as the chronology of Abram’s travels in the following section. This would account for the content of the pericope, but not the difference in style from the rest of the work. For an attempt to account for the multi-generic character of 4Q252, see George J. Brooke’s observations about anthologies as a vehicle of expression for marginal groups, in “Genre Theory, Rewritten Bible and Pesher,” DSD 17 (2010): 361–86 at 385. He cites Cynthia G. Franklin, Writing Women’s Communities: The Politics and Poetics of Contemporary Multi-Genre Anthologies (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1997), 10. 21


139

According to 4Q180, these periods, which were known before creation, were engraved on Tablets (1 3).23 The specific language of engraving periods (‫ קץ‬+ ‫ )חקק‬is not found in the extant Hebrew passages of Jubilees from Qumran, where the concept of recording divisions of time is expressed with the terms ‫ כתב‬and ‫מחלקות העתים‬.24 The imagery of the engraving of historical periods is found elsewhere in sectarian Qumran compositions in 1QpHab 7:13–14 ‫“( כול קצי עם יבואו לתכונם כאשר חקק להם ברזי ערמתו‬all the times fixed by God will come in due course as He ordained that they should be by his inscrutable insight”);25 1QHa 9:25–26 ‫הכול חקוק לפניכה‬ ‫“( בחרת זכרון לכל קצי נצחו תקופות מספר שני עולם בכול מועדיהם‬Everything is engraved before You with the ink of remembrance for all times of eternity, for the numbered seasons of eternal years in all their appointed times”); 4QDa,c (4Q266 2 i 2–4; 4Q268 1 4–6) ‫כי אין ]להת[ק]ד[ם ולהתאחר ממועדיהם‬ ‫] [והוא חקק קץ חרון לעם לא ידעהו והוא הכין ]מועדי[ רצון לדורשי מצוותו‬ (“for they can neither come before or after their appointed times [ ] and he ordained a period of wrath for a people that knows him not,26 and he established [times of ] favour for those that seek his commandments”).

23

4Q247 has been convincingly restored as referring to an “engraved period” in line 1, ‫]בלוחות השמים קץ ח[קוק‬. See Magen Broshi, “4Q247. 4QPesher on the Apocalypse of Weeks,” DJD 36:187–91. The designation “the 5th week” in 4Q247 2 is followed by historical references to 400 years and the Solomonic Temple, Zedekiah king of Judah, and perhaps the Return to Zion. Since this corresponds to the framework of the Apocalypse of Weeks in 1Enoch 93:2, Broshi followed Milik (Books of Enoch, 256) in naming the composition Pesher on the Apocalypse of Weeks. There is no definitive evidence, however, of textual dependence upon 1 Enoch in this passage, or of any shared antecedent tradition. 4Q247 might be another exemplar of a sort of pesher on historical periods like 4Q180, but it is not a pesher commentary on a specific text. 4Q369 (Prayer of Enosh) also refers to engraved periods, associated with antediluvian figures. Cf. Harold W. Attridge and John Strugnell, “Prayer of Enosh,” DJD 13:353–62. 24 4Q216 1:11; 4Q217 2 1. Cf. the references to the book of Jubilees in CD 16:3–4, ‫ ספר מחלקות העתים ליובליהם ולשבועותיהם‬and 4Q384 9 2; ‫ עת‬with ‫ מחלקת‬occurs in 4Q228 (Text with a Citation of Jubilees) in 1 i 2, 4, 7 and the expression ‫ כתוב במחלקות‬in line 9 is probably a reference to the book of Jubilees. 25 On the root ‫ תכן‬and predestination, see Menahem Kister, “Commentary to 4Q298,” JQR 85 (1994): 237–49 at 240–42. 26 This translation follows Joseph M. Baumgarten’s rendering in 4Q266 ad loc.; in 4Q268 he translated the restored parallel as “[that he has not known].”

140


The thematic pesher 4Q177 (4QEschatological Commentary B; Catena A; Midrash zur Eschatologie) describes predetermined historical periods as having been engraved on [Heavenly] Tablets. The text is not very well-preserved, but it is clear that the key ideas in the passage relate to eternal blessing, fathers and sons, the specification of names, and revealed knowledge: and they shall be exalted by them for ever, and he shall bless them [ t] old that for ever he would bless them [ ] epochs (‫ )קצים‬be [ ful ]filled [ ] their fathers [ ] clearly set out by name (‫) מפורשים בשמות‬, man by man [ ] their [y]ears and the epoch (‫ )קץ‬of their existence [ ] their tongues [ ] offsp[ring of ]. Now, behold, everything is written on the tablets (‫ )כתוב בלוחות‬which[ ] and he taught him (‫)ויודיעם‬ the number of [. . .] (4Q177 1–4 10–12) 1.2

Performative Contemporization

From the current state of the cited passage of 4Q177, it is unclear just which individuals are specified by name. It may be the elect of every generation. The specification of names in 4Q177 is like that in CD 2:13 cited above, and the similar CD 4:4 (with ‫)פרוש מעשיהם‬, which seem to have been written as introductions to lists of the members of the community, though the lists themselves have not survived.27 CD 4: 3–5 reads: And the “sons of Zadok” are the chosen ones of Israel, those called by name, who stand in the end of days (‫)באחרית הימים‬. Here are the detail(s) of their names (‫)פרוש שמותיהם‬, in their generations and the time(s) of their standing (‫ )קץ מעמדם‬and the number(s) of their trou-

27

See Maxine L. Grossman, Reading for History in the Damascus Document: A Methodological Study (STDJ 45; Leiden: Brill, 2002), 178–79; 194–95; 222–23. The noun ‫פרוש‬, specifically the detailing of names, is a frequent technical term in CD (and in 1QM, with respect to logistics). For further elaboration on the meanings of ‫ פרש‬in the Dead Sea Scrolls, see Lawrence H. Schiffman, The Halakhah at Qumran (Leiden: Brill, 1975), 35–41. For heavenly records of the names of the elect in the eschatological era, see 1QM 13:1–4 (‫ובחירי עם קודש שמתה לכה‬ ‫ וחסדי ברכו]תיכה[ וברית שלומכה חרתה למו בחרט‬. . . ‫בה]ם ו[ספר שמות כול צבאם‬ ‫)חיים‬.


141

bles and the years of their residence, and the detail(s) of their works (‫)פירוש מעשיהם‬ The specification of the names of the contemporary elect is analogous to the revelations concerning the specified figures in earliest times. In his discussion of 4Q180–181, Campbell suggests that “this preoccupation with Genesis probably stems from the Qumran sect’s conviction that the traditions concerned were paradigmatic of their own day.”28 Grossman states more forcefully: For the author/editor(s) of the Damascus Document, the narrative of history is complex, but its secrets and true meanings are accessible to anyone with the right covenantal knowledge. The various histories in the text—cosmic, national, sectarian—could all be understood by a given covenanter as reflections of his own—personal—history; his own history, in turn, could be read in terms of these larger narratives.29 I would like to suggest that this personal identification with patriarchal narrative history operated beyond the conceptual or descriptive level in the Damascus Document. In addition to serving “informative” functions, CD 2:1 and 4:4–5 exhibit a “performative” dimension, which would have been even more profound in the original versions of these passages, if they included actual lists of names. I use the terms “informative” and “performative” here in a somewhat informal manner, derived from terminology employed in the development of speech acts theory within discourse analysis, especially Austin’s initial description of performative sentences through these examples: “I do (take this woman to be my lawful wedded wife)”—as uttered in the course of the marriage ceremony; “I name this ship the Queen Elizabeth”—as uttered when smashing the bottle against the stem; “I give and bequeath my watch to my brother”—as occurring in a will; “I bet you sixpence it will rain tomorrow” . . . To name the ship is to say 28

Exegetical Texts, 76. Campbell refers to Alexander’s observation that “the sect’s great interest in traditions regarding Noah and the Flood probably stemmed from the fact that they saw an analogy between the antediluvian period and their own times” (Philip S. Alexander, “The Bible in Qumran and Early Judaism,” in Text in Context: Essays by Members of the Society for Old Testament Study [ed. A. D. H. Mayes; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000], 35–63 at 46). 29 Grossman, Reading for History, 161.

142


(in the appropriate circumstances) the words “I name, etc.”. When I say, before the registrar or altar, etc., “I do”, I am not reporting on a marriage: I am indulging in it.30 CD 4:4–5 functions in a similar manner: “Here are the detail(s) of their names in their generations and the time(s) of their standing.” By listing, or even promising to list, detailed data about the contemporary/eschatological elect, the author or editor of CD 4:4–5 would have been acting in his role of elect recipient and disseminator of privileged information, revealing details of eternal divine records about blessed individuals—the unfolding of human events in their determined times, including the present. This activity, I maintain, lies at the heart of Qumran pesher. The oft-cited passages in Pesher Habakkuk that present the pesherist’s own perception of his activity take on fresh meaning when viewed in the context of the preceding discussion. 1QpHab2:5–10 and 7:1–5 both describe and constitute pesher as revelatory exegesis: It refers to ([ ‫ )פשר הדבר ]על‬. . . in the Last Days . . . everything that is to co[me up]on the latter generation that will be spoken by the Priest in whose [heart] God has put [the abil]ity to explain (‫ )לפשור‬all the words of his servants the prophets, through [whom] God has foretold everything that is to come upon his people and [his] com[munity]. (1QpHab 2:5–10) When it says, “so that with ease someone can read it,” this refers to the Teacher of Righteousness to whom God made known all the mysterious revelations of his servants the prophets. (1QpHab 7:3–5) The essence of the production of pesher compositions is the transmission of revealed truths that are believed to have been encoded in scripture for the purpose of these future revelations about future events and people. The act of transmission is as much an actualization and fulfillment of eschatologi30

John Langshaw Austin, How to Do Things with Words: The William James Lectures Delivered at Harvard University in 1955 (ed. J. O. Urmson; Oxford: Clarendon, 1962), 5–6; see also John Langshaw Austin, “Performative Utterances,” in idem, Philosophical Papers (ed. J. O. Urmson and G. J. Warnock; Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1961), 220–39. My distinction between “informative” and “performative” adapts a formulation I heard from Dr. Elie Holzer of Bar-Ilan University on 20 November, 2010, in an analysis of b. Šabb. 21b in the writings of the 19th-century Hasidic rabbi Yehudah Aryeh Leib Alter (the Sefat Emet).


143

cal expectations as the unfolding social and political history that is tied to the texts. The act of peshering, for which the verb ‫לפשור‬, “to explain,” is used in 1QpHab 2:8, is rooted in the worldview seen above in CD, 4Q180, and 4Q252. This worldview incorporates a hermeneutic of reading scripture as a tool for discovering hidden truths of contemporary and eschatological value. Where pesher compositions disclose the contemporary significance of prophetic future-oriented scriptural texts associated with the end-time, ‫אחרית הימים‬, this other group of compositions aim to reveal contemporary applications of Pentateuchal texts about the distant past, the ‫ ראשונים‬or ‫קדמוניות‬. The shared use of the term ‫ פשר‬in these compositions is the subject of the second half of this study.

2. ‫פתר‬/‫ פשר‬in Non-Pesher Compositions from Qumran The term pesher is most commonly associated with the “continuous” pesharim and, to a lesser extent, the “thematic” pesharim from Qumran. As one would expect, the majority of the attestations of the word in the Qumran corpus are found in these works.31 Here, I would like to call attention to the handful of occurrences of the Hebrew root ‫ פשר‬in compositions other than those generally labeled as pesharim: CD 4:14; 1Q30; 4Q159 5 1, 5; 4Q180 1 7; 4Q252 IV 5; 4Q464 3 ii 7, and probably 1Q22.32 The etymology of the word pesher and its relation to the root ‫ פתר‬have been discussed at length in earlier studies, especially with regard to dream interpretation.33 My focus here is upon the occurrences of these roots in 31

See the discussion of pesher in Shani L. Berrin, “Qumran Pesharim,” in Biblical Interpretation at Qumran (ed. Matthias Henze; Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2005), 110–33, and the literature cited there; Timothy H. Lim, Pesharim (CQS 3; London: Sheffield, 2002); Robert Williamson Jr., “Pesher: A Cognitive Model of the Genre,” DSD 17 (2010): 336–60. 32 See Abegg et al., Dead Sea Scrolls Concordance, s.v. “‫פשר‬,” 2:626–27. 33 See Berrin, “Qumran Pesharim,” 123–26 and the literature cited there, esp. in n. 51; see also the comparison between Qumran pesher and rabbinic petira, ibid., 113; and Paul Mandel, “Midrashic Exegesis and its Precedents,” DSD 8 (2001): 149–68. I do not address the attestations of Aramaic ‫ פשר‬in the Qumran corpus, all of which are found in the Book of Giants. In 4Q503, the word simply denotes dream interpretation (4Q530 2ii+6–12, 14; 2ii+6–12, 23; 7ii7; 7ii10). Stuckenbruck has noted the wordplay with the root ‫ פרש‬in 7 ii 7, where Enoch is called ‫ספר פרשא‬. This designation is found as well in 4Q203 8 4, a few lines

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the relevant texts.34 Some of these attestations are very similar to the use of the term in pesher compositions, while others exhibit a distinctive set of shared features that can shed light on the meaning of the term and upon early Jewish conceptions of a pre-determined schema of history. 2.1

‫ פשר‬in CD, 4Q252, 4Q180, and 4Q464

In CD 4:14 the term pesher is used formulaically to introduce an identifying interpretation, as it is in the pesharim: But during all those years, Belial will run unbridled amidst Israel, as God spoke through the hand of the prophet Isaiah, son of Amoz, saying: “Fear and a pit and a snare are upon you, O inhabitant(s) of the land” (Isa 24:17). This refers to (‫ )פשרו‬the three nets of Belial, of which Levi, the son of Jacob, said that he (Belial) entrapped Israel with them. (CD 14:12–16) Devorah Dimant has designated this as an “isolated pesher,” a label she applied further to instances of pesher-like interpretation that do not actually employ the word pesher itself.35 Dimant stated that “the texts combefore the occurrence of the word ‫פשר‬, in line 13. Cf. Loren Stuckenbruck, “4Q203 4QEnochGiantsa ar,” DJD 36:8–41 at 28–31. There is no direct concern with textuality associated with the dream interpretation in 4Q503. It is possible that 4Q203 could be of greater value for our discussion. since this column is concerned with both primordial events and writing (lines 1–3 feature the words “book,” “copy,” “tablet,” “letter,” and “document” in addition to “scribe”). However, the context is insufficiently clear to justify specific hypotheses. Even the reading of [‫ ופשר צבות]א‬is not certain. 34 I view this as one of many necessary approaches for determining the “meanings” of pesher. See the methodological considerations, especially the questions, raised by George Brooke in his, “Pesher and Midrash in Qumran Literature: Issues for Lexicography,” RevQ 24/93 (2009): 79–95. 35 Devorah Dimant, “Pesharim,” in ABD 5:247. She noted that the extant cases identified as “isolated pesharim” are found primarily in CD, with an additional example in 1QS, and that, “Significantly, all the isolated pesharim occur in paraenetic sections, where the pesharim serve as prooftexts both for events in the history of the community and for its ideological tenets” (ibid.). Lim has suggested that the term pesheresque be used to describe instances of this sort of interpretation without the term pesher (Timothy H. Lim, “The Qumran Scrolls, Multilingualism, and Biblical Interpretation,” in Religion in the Dead Sea Scrolls [ed. John


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mented upon in this way are mostly prophetic, but a few are taken from ancient songs found in the Torah.”36 In the example just cited, the text that is interpreted is from Isaiah, but reference is also made to a teaching of a Pentateuchal figure, the patriarch Levi son of Jacob. This is potentially significant, because the other occurrences of the term pesher outside of pesher compositions are all associated with Torah, and figures in the book of Genesis are especially prominent in these sources.37 In one of these passages, the term “pesher” is again used in the familiar manner of an interpretive formula, introducing a comment upon Gen 49:3–4: “Reuben you are my first-born and the firstfruits of my strength, excelling in dignity and excelling in power. Unstable as water, you shall no longer excel. You went up onto your father’s bed. Then you defiled it”. ‘On his bed he went up! ’ Its interpretation (‫ )פשרו‬is that he reproved him for when he slept with Bilhah his concubine. And he [s]aid, “Y [ou] are [my] firstbo[rn] Reuben” he was the firstfruits of [ . . . (4Q252 IV 3–7) There are a number of anomalies to this usage, however.38 The chief anomaly is that the interpretive comment does not offer a contemporizing or J. Collins and Robert A. Kugler; Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2000], 57–73 at 64–65). 36 Dimant, ibid. 37 The use of biblical prophetic texts as bases for contemporizing exegesis is among the defining characteristics of Qumran pesher. Although some texts cited in the pesharim are from Torah, the extant continuous pesharim are all commentaries on sections of books of the Prophets or Psalms, and these are predominant in the thematic pesharim as well. See Shani Tzoref, “Qumran Pesharim and the Pentateuch: Explicit Citation, Overt Typologies, and Implicit Interpretive Traditions,” DSD 16 (2009): 190–220. 38 See Moshe J. Bernstein, “4Q252: From Re-Written Bible to Biblical Commentary,” JJS 45 (1994): 1–27 at 17–18; idem, “4Q252: Method and Context, Genre and Sources. A Response to George J. Brooke,” JQR 85/1–2 (1994): 61–79 at 73; Robert H. Eisenman and Michael O. Wise, “14. A Genesis Florilegium,” in The Dead Sea Scrolls Uncovered (Rockport: Element, 1992), 77–89; Juhana M. Saukkonen, “The Story Behind the Text: Scriptural Interpretation in 4Q252” (Ph.D. diss., University of Helsinki, 2005), 157; Devorah Dimant, “Between Sectarian and Non-Sectarian: The Case of the Apocryphon of Joshua,” in Reworking the Bible: Apocryphal and Related Texts at Qumran. Proceedings of a Joint Symposium by the Orion Center for the Study of the Dead Sea Scrolls and Associated Literature and the Hebrew University Institute for Advanced Studies Research Group on Qumran,

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eschatological identification of the cited text, but rather provides an explanatory identification related to an event that occurred in the past vis– à-vis the quoted speaker. In Gen 49:1, the blessings of Jacob are characterized as pertaining to ‫אחרית הימים‬, and in the subsequent column of 4Q252, the blessing to Judah is in fact given a contemporizing eschatological interpretation (4Q252 V 1–7).39 But the “pesher” of Jacob’s pronouncement to Reuben does not focus upon the present or future; it provides the frame of reference for the quoted verses in a past event— Reuben’s act of sleeping with Jacob’s concubine Bilhah, as recorded in Gen 35:22—and an explanation for the fact that Jacob’s parting “blessing” to Reuben consisted of rebuke.40 I suggest that the key to understanding the use of the term pesher in 4Q252 is the recognition that the primary authorial aim in this composition is the same as that in 4Q180 and in Jubilees—particularly with respect to the material attributed to the Heavenly Tablets: the presentation of a conventional list of elect and non-elect figures in Genesis, and promises made concerning them and their offspring, in accordance with preordained periods of time.

15–17 January, 2002 (ed. Esther G. Chazon, Devorah Dimant, and Ruth A. Clements; STDJ 58; Leiden: Brill, 2005), 105–34 at 133. 39 Some scholars have described the use of the term pesher here as conforming to the manner in which it is usually employed. Cf. George J. Brooke, “4Q252: 4QCommentary on Genesis A,” DJD 22:187; Lim, “The Qumran Scrolls,” 64. Lim maintained that the two passages in columns IV and V of 4Q252 are similar in nature, other than the presence or absence of the word pesher. I agree that the similarities are important—both passages apply a text associated with ‫אחרית הימים‬ to a specific historical event pertaining to prediction, reward, and punishment— but the difference with respect to eschatological content of the interpretation is also significant. 40 It is unlikely that mere identification of the referent of Jacob’s words is the primary purpose of the comment; we would expect the intended readers to be aware of this ( pace Eisenman and Wise, “14. A Genesis Florilegium.” See Bernstein, “4Q252: From Re-Written Bible,” 17–18. More likely, the point is the rebuke. The comment is not an explanation of the verse, but a demonstration of how the application indicates actualization and fulfillment. The specification of the reallife case to which the poetic words apply is not intended to provide data to an uninformed reader, but to prove alignment between real life and the poetic prophetic utterances pertaining to reward and punishment.


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To this group, we may add 4Q464 (Exposition on the Patriarchs).41 In their introductory notes to 4Q464, Charlesworth and Elledge comment upon the “stylistic resemblances” among 4Q464, 4Q180, and 4Q252, “all of which combine narrative and exegetical styles.”42 The compositions also exhibit similarity of content and themes, and the use of the word pesher; they all present selected passages from Genesis pertaining to the righteous and wicked. As observed by Esther Eshel and Michael Stone, both 4Q464 and 4Q180 use the word pesher in the context of specifications of historical time periods, with reference to stories about the patriarchs from the book of Genesis.43 These works contain the only extant examples in the Dead Sea Scrolls in which the word pesher appears in the phrase “pesher ʿal.” Although the similar collocations ‫ פשרו על‬and ‫ פשר הדבר על‬are both attested in pesher compositions, the specific use of the absolute form of the word without pronominal suffix and followed by preposition ‫ על‬is so far unique to the works cited here. It reflects the distinctive use of the term pesher with respect to “subjects”44 or “events,”45 rather than to introduce an 41

On 4Q464, see Esther Eshel and Michael E. Stone, “4QExposition on the Patriarchs,” DJD 19:215–30. See also James H. Charlesworth and Casey D. Elledge, “Exposition on the Patriarchs,” PTSDSSP 6B: 274–85. 42 Charlesworth and Elledge,“Exposition on the Patriarchs,” 275. See Campbell, Exegetical Texts, 76. 43 Eshel and Stone, DJD 19:215–30. For these observations regarding 4Q180, see Dimant, “The Pesher on the Periods,” esp. 91, 98. On similarities between 4Q180, 4Q252, and 4Q464, see also Esti Eshel, “Hermeneutical Approaches to Genesis in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in The Book of Genesis in Jewish and Oriental Christian Interpretation: A Collection of Essays (ed. Judith Frishman and Lucas Van Rompay; Traditio Exegetica Graeca 5. Leuven: Peeters, 1997), 1–12. 44 Dimant, “The Pesher on the Periods,” 92, with respect to 4Q180. 45 Thus, Moshe J. Bernstein, regarding the occurrence in 4Q159, in idem, “4Q159 Fragment 5 and the ‘Desert Theology’ of the Qumran Sect” in Emanuel; Studies in Hebrew Bible, Septuagint and Dead Sea Scrolls in Honor of Emanuel Tov [ed. Shalom M. Paul et al.; VTSup 94; Leiden: Brill, 2003], 43–56 at 53 n. 29). Our discussion of the meaning and function of ‫ פשר‬at Qumran may offer some insight into the puzzling occurrences of the term in 4Q159 (4QOrdinances). This is not a pesher composition. The extant fragments primarily form a “medley of laws,” and the work has been compared to 4Q265 (thus, Joseph M. Baumgarten, “4Q265,” DJD 35:58–59). In frag. 5, containing the word ‫פשר‬, the subject matter is Pentateuchal narrative. The central text has been identified as Exod 33:7, in which Moses pitched the Tent of Meeting outside the camp. The first occurrence

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interpretation of a particular verse. In 4Q180, ‫ פשר על‬is used with respect to “time periods” generally, both in the title of the work, and in the introduction to the section on the Watchers.46 In 4Q464, a fragmentary composition that exhibits particular concern with chronology in the narratives of Genesis, the idiom is used in the context of Gen 15:13, the Covenant of

of the term ‫פשר‬, in line 1, seems to be formulaic, but the preceding words, ‫אל וימותו‬, do not correspond to any known biblical text, and the same is true for the words ‫ ו[יצאו שמה‬preceding ‫ פשר הדבר‬in line 5. As noted, Bernstein suggests that perhaps what is “being ‘peshered ’ ” here is a “historical event” rather than a text. For Bernstein, the historical event is “Moses’ separation of himself from the Israelite camp, after the biblical Israelites had sinned with the golden calf.” He suggests that this may have served typologically as a model for the Qumran community’s “own departure to the desert to isolate themselves from the sinful remainder of contemporary Israel.” Bernstein (ibid., 45 n.6; 46 n.11) rejects Strugnell’s proposal that the words ‫ אל וימותו‬in line 1 are the remnants of a variant citation of Lev 16:1, recording the deaths of Aaron’s sons Nadab and Abihu. However, even if one were to accept Strugnell’s proposal, the reference to Lev 16:1 would best be explained along the lines suggested by Bernstein, taking fragment 5 as a typological “pesher of an event.”As suggested by Schultz, the probable reference to Nadab and Abihu in 1QM 17:2 could provide a parallel to 4Q159, in presenting Lev 16:1 as a typology for the future time of the “testing in the crucible.” See Brian Schultz, Conquering the World: The War Scroll (1QM) Reconsidered (STDJ 76; Leiden: Brill, 2009), 118–19. Perhaps, in 4Q159, what it means for a Pentateuchal event to serve as pesher is that it is presented as the fulfillment of a predestined fate associated with elect and non-elect figures, and thereby serves as evidence for the divine master plan, similar to how certain events in Genesis are treated in the works we examine below. 46 4Q180 1 1 and 1 7. The following translations are from Dimant, “Pesher on the Periods,” 78–79. Line 1 ‫פשר על הקצים אשר עשה אל‬, “Pesher concerning the periods made by God”; line 7 ‫]ו[פשר על עזזאל והמלאכים‬, “[And] Pesher concerning ʿAzazʾel and the Angels.” The lack of suffix in the word pesher in the expression pesher ʿal is due to the fact that the phrase does not introduce an interpretation of a particular biblical verse, but rather provides a thematic title for the composition as a whole, and for a new section in line 7. Thus, Lim: “The technical term ‘pesher’ is used twice to introduce the concept of ages which God had made and Azazel and the angels who consorted with the daughters of man (cf. Gen. 6:4)” (Lim, Pesharim, 17); and it is “plausibly reconstructed” in a comment on Gen 18:20–21 (ibid.), i.e., at 2–4 ii 7. Lim follows Józef T. Milik, “Milkî-ṣedeq et Milkî-rešaʿ dans les anciens écrits juifs et chrétiens,” JJS 23 (1972): 109–24 at 119.


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the Pieces, which is a prophecy pertaining to a designated time period.47 4Q180 and 4Q464 also exhibit a similar use of vacats to set off blocks of material, a phenomenon that is found in 4Q252 as well.48 Eshel and Stone comment upon the blank lines that set off sections in this manuscript: “These divisions may suggest that the manuscript contains a series of promises of prophecies of an eschatological character based upon the biblical narratives about the patriarchs”.49 I thus suggest that the use of the term ‫ פשר‬in 4Q252 may be illuminated by the use of the expression ‫ פשר על‬in 4Q180, where it designates historical periodization in the book of Genesis, and in 4Q464. The introduction to the comment on Reuben’s blessing in 4Q252 IV 3–7 seems to blend the sense of pesher as a technical term serving the specific exegetical and formulaic function of applying a biblical verse to an historical event, as in the pesharim, together with a distinct but related usage to designate exposition of divinely ordained periods in the remote past, as in 4Q180 and probably 4Q464. In 4Q180, the subject matter that is peshered is identified as ‫קצים‬.50 2.2

‫פתר‬

It is instructive to compare the pesher on ‫ קצים‬of 4Q180 to CD 13:7–8. Baumgarten and Schwartz translate: And this is the rule for the Examiner of the camp (‫)המבקר למחנה‬: Let him instruct the Many about the works of God, and allow them to discern the wonder of his mighty deeds and relate to them the happenings of eternity together with their interpretations.

4Q464 3 ii 7 ‫( פשר ע]ל‬DJD 19:222 and Pl. XXVII) (the ʿayin is marked doubtful). The immediate context in 4Q464 is lacking, but it is likely that this is not a citation of a specific verse. Gen 15:13 is plausibly restored in lines 3 and 4, following a citation formula, but there is additional text in lines 5 and 6. Line 7 does not appear to be a direct interpretation of the previous citation (contra Lim, Pesharim, 17). 48 Eshel and Stone, “4QExposition,” DJD 19:217. 49 Eshel and Stone, “4QExposition,” DJD 19:215. 50 See the discussion of the relationship between ‫ קץ‬and ‫ פשר‬above section 1.1. 47

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The Hebrew of the last phrase is ‫( ויספר לפניהם נהיות עולם בפרתיה‬where ‫ בפרתיה‬is a metathesis for ‫)בפתריה‬.51 (The Qumran parallel is found in 4Q267 9 iv 5 ‫)בפ[תריהם‬.52 Similarly, 4Q298 3–4 ii 8–9 is restored ‫י[מי תעודה אשר פתר]י[הם] אספ[ר‬.53 In these texts, the term ‫ פתר‬refers to explications of pre-ordained periods of time that are set before the community by their leaders—the Examiner (‫ )מבקר‬in the Damascus Document, and the Maskil in 4Q298.54 The instruction of ‫ פתרים‬is identified as the clarification of secret knowledge about designated time periods. The word may best be understood to mean “fulfillment in their ordained times.” An understanding of the term as “fulfilled times” could also be suitable for ‫ פשריהם‬in 1Q30 (a plural noun with masc. plural suffix, like ‫)פתריהם‬, though the fragmentary context precludes certainty.55 The words ‫ופשריהם‬ ‫ לפי‬appear on line 6 of frag. 1 in 1Q30. Among the additional words preserved on the few extant lines of text on this fragment, numbers are prominent: “one-third” (‫שלישית‬, line 3), a reference to “five” (perhaps “the Pentateuch”; ‫ספרים חומשים‬, line 4), and “four” (line 5). Fragment 2 includes the words ‫ ולספר רזי‬and ‫ רישונים‬and ‫ברית‬. Either of the two related meanings of pesher would be suitable here, as a reference to ordained periods laid out in the Pentateuch, or to eschatological interpretations of 51

Elisha Qimron prefers the reading found in 4Q267, ‫( בפתריה‬Qimron, The Dead Sea Scrolls: The Hebrew Writings [ Jerusalem: Yad Ben Zvi, 2010], 1:48; so, too, Baumgarten and Schwartz, ibid.). Since ‫ נהיות עולם‬is feminine, and the waw of ‫ נהיות‬may in fact be a yod, the reading in CD may be equally acceptable, and perhaps preferable. In 4Q298, the referent of the masc. pl. poss. suff. in ‫פתריהם‬ would be “days,” following the restoration ‫ י[מי‬as suggested by Stephen Pfann (DJD 20:25–27). 52 Baumgarten, DJD 18:69, 108–9. 53 Stephen J. Pfann and Menahem Kister, “4Q298 4QCrypt A Words of the Maskil to All Sons of Dawn,” DJD 20:1–30 and Plates I–II, at 21, 25, 27. The reconstruction is based on CD 13:8, because of the similar content, style, and context of the leader’s revelation of esoteric knowledge to the community. 54 These occurrences are the only attestations of this noun in the extant corpus. The lone attestation of the verb ‫פתר‬, in 4Q223–224 (4QpapJubh), simply follows biblical usage with respect to Joseph’s interpretation of Pharoah’s dream in. In their 1995 edition of CD, Joseph M. Baumgarten and Daniel R. Schwartz wrote, “‫ פתר‬is now found in the 4Q fragments as a variant for ‫פשר‬, ‘interpretation’ ” (Baumgarten and Schwartz, PTSDSSP 2:55). Presumably, this is a reference to ‫ בפתריהם‬in 4Q266 and 4Q267. 55 Józef T. Milik, DJD 1:132–33, pl. XXX.


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biblical texts. A formulaic usage introducing an interpretation does not seem likely.56 Baumgarten stated that ‫ פתר‬in 4QD “is equivalent to ‫פשר‬, ‘interpretation’.”57 I agree that ‫ פתר‬in these texts is equivalent to ‫פשר‬, but prefer a broader understanding of the meanings of ‫פשר‬, reflecting not only the interpretive aspects of the term, but also its concern with progressive revelation about ordained time periods. Our investigation of the terms ‫ פתריהם‬and (‫ פשר)יהם‬in non-pesher compositions reinforces appreciation of the interconnectedness of exegesis and revelation in Qumran pesher. Our observations concerning the use of these terms to describe revelation about pre-ordained historical periods serve to enhance our understanding not only of 4Q180, 4Q464, and 4Q252, but also of the more general function of the term pesher at Qumran as indicating the true meaning of biblical prophecy with regard to a time period beyond its original utterance. The evidence from the use of ‫ פתר‬and the collocation ‫ פשר על‬at Qumran corroborate the view that pesher interpretations of biblical verses in pesher compositions do not only aim to offer the true identifying interpretation of a given verse, but more 56

Contra Lim, Pesharim, 17. On 1Q30, see also Timothy H. Lim, “The Alleged Reference to the Tripartite Division of the Hebrew Bible,” RevQ 20/77 (2001): 23–37 at 28–29; Johannes Zimmermann, Messianische Texte aus Qumran: königliche, priesterliche und prophetische Messiasvorstellungen in den Schriftfunden von Qumran (WUNT2 104; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck,1998). 426–27; Craig A. Evans, Jesus and His Contemporaries: Comparative Studies (AGJU 25; Leiden: Brill, 1995), 91–92; Alex P. Jassen, Mediating the Divine, 85. I am thankful to Alex Jassen for bibliographic references for this text. 57 Similarly, Pfann and Kister, translate “whose interpretation” in 4Q298 (Pfann and Kister, DJD 20:27). Another instance in which ‫ פשר‬has been understood as “interpret” is Milik’s restoration and explanation of 1Q22 ( Józef T. Milik, “1Q22 Dires de Moise,” DJD 1:91–97; Milik restores ‫פש]ור‬, in I 3, which he explains as an imperative—a command to Moses to interpret the Torah; he distinguishes between Moses’ obligation to offer explanation of the Torah to the elite— heads of families, levites, and priests, as compared to “simple notification” to the people as a whole (ibid., 93; see Timothy H. Lim, Pesharim, 17). The restoration is uncertain, and the context is too fragmentary to allow for responsible evaluation of the text or of Milik’s hypothesis. On this text, see also John Strugnell, “4Q376 Apocryphon of Mosesa,” DJD 19:121–36 at 130; Eibert J. C. Tigchelaar, “A Cave 4 Fragment of Divre Mosheh (4QDM) and the Text of 1Q22 1:7–10 and Jubilees 1:9, 14,” DSD 12 (2005): 303–12; Daniel K. Falk, “Moses, Texts of,” in EDSS 1:577–81.

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precisely to designate the specific preordained time for its fulfillment. I propose that when the term “pesher” is used in Qumran pesharim to indicate the identification of contemporary/eschatological referents of biblical prophetic texts, this is a technical application of a term that was already in use to describe the fulfillment of divine plans in ordained time periods, with a probable special association with Pentateuchal narrative.

Conclusion In conclusion, I would like to suggest that discourse analysis of the sort tentatively attempted above concerning the performative aspects of naming in CD and 4Q177, may be profitably combined with genre study to offer further insight into Qumran pesher and into the sectarian corpus as a whole. In her discussion of “theories of genre,” Carol Newsom wrote: One of the features that has often been noted about the sectarian literature from Qumran is the number of new genres developed by the community. These include, most notably, serakim, pesharim, hodayot, mishmarot, and a variety of distinctive liturgical texts such as the Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice, covenant ceremony texts, marriage rituals, rituals of expulsion, and so forth.58 Among the questions Newsom asks about these genres as a group, is “How do they work together to construct the integrated sectarian world and also to differentiate it into a series of discrete experiences?”59 One feature that is common to many of the “new” genres named by Newsom is that many of them may be considered “performative”; they do not only report or instruct but they enact; they constitute activities and construct realities. Serakhim do not only describe rules—they prescribe rules. Hodayot describe liturgy, but more importantly, they constitute liturgy. And so too, with the other liturgical and ceremonial texts in Newsom’s list. Even if one follows Elliot Wolfson’s judgment that the Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice are not mystical as such, the performative aspect of the communion in the text is

58

Carol A. Newsom, “Pairing Research Questions and Theories of Genre: A Case Study of the Hodayot,” DSD 17 (2010): 270–88 at 285. 59 Ibid.


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evident.60 In the case of liturgy and ritual, it might actually be more appropriate to speak of “performance texts.” This is illustrated effectively in Menahem Kister’s presentation of 1QS 1:16–2:19, the text of the Yahad’s annual covenant renewal ceremony.61 Kister uses three different fonts in order to distinguish between (1) the descriptions of the ceremony (which read as stage directions); (2) the statements of the participants (essentially, the script); and (3) the introductory paraphrase of the scripted statements. In this manner, we may gain an appreciation of how the innovative author(s) of Qumran pesharim built upon existing terminology and beliefs such as pre-ordained periods of history, heavenly records of divine elect and non-elect, and the necessity for revelation and instruction in these mysteries, to create the genre of Qumran pesher. To understand the genre of pesher, in addition to considering such factors as the meaning of the lexeme ‫ פשר‬and the technique or mode of exegesis employed in pesher, it can be useful to attend to the distinction between texts that report about revelation and texts that reveal. In the instructional contexts of 4Q298 and the Damascus Document, the terms ‫ פתרים‬and ‫ פשרים‬are employed to describe the transmission of knowledge of divine mysteries by community leaders. In 4Q298, it is clarified that the these ‫ פתרים‬pertain to “former times” (‫ )קדמוניות‬and that the point of the instruction is oriented toward understanding of the future: “so that you may understand the ‫ קץ עולמות‬. . . and know [ . . .”. In the extant portions of 4Q180 and 4Q464, the word pesher occurs in the context of presentation of data about elect and non-elect individuals in those former periods. These texts do more than describe the need for instruction—they are not only about revelations pertaining to former times, but they themselves instruct. They reveal data about former times, within the rubric of the unfolding of the grand divine design, and they employ formulaic terminology in doing so: ‫פשרו על‬. This seems to be the sort of material that 60

See Elliot R. Wolfson, “Mysticism and the Poetic-Liturgical Composition from Qumran: A Response to Bilhah Nitzan,” JQR 85/1–2 (1994): 185–202; cf. Philip S. Alexander, The Mystical Texts: Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice and Related Manuscripts (London: T&T Clark, 2006), 5–10; 74. See now, Peter Schäfer, The Origins of Jewish Mysticism (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009), passim, esp. ch. 4 “Qumran,” 112–52, and the summary remarks at 348–50. 61 Menahem Kister, “On Good and Evil: The Theological Foundations of the Qumran Community,” in idem, The Qumran Scrolls and Their World, 497–528 at 500.

154


would have been in the curriculum of the Maskil and the Mevaqqer as described in 4Q298, in teaching about the fulfillment of times. The continuous pesharim also actually reveal data about the unfolding of God’s predetermined plan, and employ formulaic terminology in doing so, including especially the expressions “‫ ”פשרו‬or “‫פשר הדבר על‬.” However, the revelations in the continuous pesharim do not pertain to the former days, but to the latter or last days ‫אחרית הימים‬. Hence, their base-texts, or hypotexts, are prophetic scriptures rather than the Pentateuchal material found in 4Q180 and 4Q464.62 The leader with whom they are associated is the Teacher of Righteousness.63 In the Damascus Document and 4Q252, the term pesher is used in a formulaic manner similar to that employed throughout the continuous pesharim, for cases of the implementation of pesher as a technique, in which interpretations of particular biblical verses connect the former times to the End of Days. Finally, the “thematic pesharim” seem to take a somewhat broader view, showing interest in both describing the eternal process of revelation and instruction and in interpreting biblical verses with respect to the fulfillment of divine plans for the elect in the End of Days.

62

George J. Brooke, “Hypertextuality and the ‘Parabiblical’ Dead Sea Scrolls,” in In the Second Degree: Paratextual Literature in Ancient Near Eastern and Ancient Mediterranean Culture and Its Reflections in Medieval Literature (ed. Philip S. Alexander, Armin Lange and Renate Pillinger; Leiden: Brill, 2010). Cited in Brooke, “Genre Theory, Rewritten Bible and Pesher.” 63 1QpHab 2:7–10; 7:1–5.


brill.nl/dsd

The Sinai Revelation according to 4Q377 (Apocryphal Pentateuch B)1 Ariel Feldman [email protected] University of Manchester

Abstract This paper explores the reworking of the biblical Sinai accounts in 4Q377 3 ii. While previous studies of 4Q377 focused on its depiction of Moses, the retelling of the Sinai theophany in this scroll has not received due attention. The paper scrutinizes the intricate web of biblical allusions in 4Q377 3 ii and analyzes the ways in which it deals with the difficulties embedded in the accounts of the Sinai revelation in Exodus and Deuteronomy. It demonstrates that the scroll’s interpretation of these biblical texts exhibits several similarities with the later Jewish sources. Keywords 4Q377; Sinai; Moses; sanctification; Ten Commandments

The scroll 4Q377, dated to the first half of the first century B.C.E., has survived in five fragments.2 They contain a divine address featuring the Promise of the Land (frg. 1 i), a list of tribal representatives (frg. 2 i 2–7), a reworking of the story of Miriam’s leprosy (frg. 2 i 8–10), and an admon-

1

This article was written while I served as BA-AHRC-ESRC Visiting Fellow at the University of Manchester. I am grateful to my academic host, Prof. George J. Brooke, for his comments on the initial draft of this paper. This research was also supported by a grant from the Jewish Memorial Foundation. 2 See James C. VanderKam, Monica Brady, “377. 4QApocryphal Pentateuch B,” in Qumran Cave 4:XXVIII: Miscellanea, Part 2 (DJD 28; Oxford: Clarendon, 2001), 205–17. © Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2011

DOI: 10.1163/156851711X570409

156

A. Feldman / Dead Sea Discoveries 18 (2011) 155–172

itory discourse on the Sinai revelation (frg. 2 ii 3–12).3 Scholarly discussion of 4Q377 has focused so far on its portrait of Moses. Yet, while much has been written on the scroll’s depiction of Moses as God’s anointed one,4 speaking from His mouth as an angel,5 its interpretation of the Sinai theophany in general has not received due attention.6 Yet, as this paper demonstrates, 4Q377’s treatment of the Sinai revelation reveals several intriguing affinities with later Jewish sources. Thus it makes an important contribution to our knowledge of the ancient Jewish interpretation of the biblical Sinai accounts.

3

Frg. 2 ii was recently re-edited in Émile Puech, “Le fragment 2 de 4Q377, Pentateuque Apocryphe B: L’exaltation de Moïse,” RevQ 21/83 (2004): 469–75. 4 See Johannes Zimmermann, Messianische Texte aus Qumran (WUNT 2.104; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1998), 332–42; James E. Bowley, “Moses in the Dead Sea Scrolls: Living in the Shadow of God’s Anointed,” in The Bible at Qumran: Text, Shape, and Interpretation (ed. Peter W. Flint; Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2001), 159–81 at 175–76; Geza G. Xeravits, King, Priest, Prophet: Positive Eschatological Protagonists of the Qumran Library (STDJ 47; Leiden: Brill, 2003), 124–27, 177–81; Heinz-Josef Fabry, “Mose, der ‘Gesalbte JHWHs’: Messianische Aspekte der Mose Interpretation in Qumran,” in Moses in Biblical and ExtraBiblical Traditions (ed. Axel Graupner and Michael Wolter; BZAW 372; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2007), 130–42; Alex P. Jassen, Mediating the Divine: Prophecy and Revelation in the Dead Sea Scrolls and Second Temple Literature (STDJ 68; Leiden: Brill, 2007), 100–102, 113–21. 5 See Crispin H. T. Fletcher-Louis, “Some Reflections on Angelomorphic Humanity Texts among the Dead Sea Scrolls,” DSD 7 (2000): 292–312; idem, All the Glory of Adam: Liturgical Anthropology in the Dead Sea Scrolls (STDJ 62; Leiden: Brill, 2002), 141–49; Wido van Peursen, “Who Was Standing on the Mountain? The Portrait of Moses in 4Q377,” in Graupner and Wolter, eds., Moses in Biblical and Extra-Biblical Traditions, 99–113; Phoebe Makiello, “Was Moses Considered to be an Angel by Those at Qumran?” ibid., 115–127; George J. Brooke, “Moses in the Dead Sea Scrolls: Looking at Mount Nebo from Qumran,” in La construction de la figure de Moïse (ed. Thomas Römer; Suppl. Transeuphratène 13; Paris: Gabalda, 2007), 209–21 at 214–15, 220–21; Kristine J. Ruffatto, “The Exaltation of Moses in 4Q374 and 4Q377: A Divinized Moses at Qumran?” (paper presented at the Second Enoch Graduate Student Conference, Princeton Theological Seminary, June 16–18, 2008). 6 See the brief discussions by van Peursen, “Portrait,” 101–3, 110–11; Jassen, Mediating, 116–19.


157

The Text of 4Q377 2 ii 8 [‫למען‬ ]◦◦◦ ‫ ומופתיכה‬7[‫̊א]ותותיכה‬ [ ] vacat ‫יבינו בחוקות מושה‬ [ ] 12 ̊‫ ̊כי‬11[‫ [עדת יהוה והקשב כול הקהל ̊ה ̊ג ̊דו̊ ]ל‬10‫שמ]עי‬ ̊ ‫ וי[אמר‬9]‫אליבח‬ ̊ ‫ויען‬ 13 [‫ויע]שה‬ ̊ ‫ור האיש אשר לוא יעמוד וישמור‬ ̇ ‫אר‬ ̇ vac [ ] ̊‫[◦ש◦] [י‬ ̊ ]◦◦ [ ]◦‫ל‬ ‫ בפי מושה משיחו וללכת אחר יהוה אלוהי אבותינו‬14‫י[הו̊ ̊ה‬ ̊ ‫מצ]וות‬ ̇ ‫לכול‬ 15 [ ]◦◦‫המ‬ ̊ ‫ידבר‬ ̊ ‫ ו̊ י̊ ̊ד ̊ב ̇ר ̊ע]ם [קהל ישראל פנים עם אל פנים כאשר‬vac [ ‫לנו מהר סינ]י‬

7

1 2 3 4 5 6

The DJD edition has ]◦. Puech, “Le fragment,” 470, plausibly suggests that the short oblique stroke visible in the beginning of the line belongs to an alef. 8 Thus reads the DJD edition. Strugnell read here ]◦◦‫( ̊א‬Raymond E. Brown et al., Preliminary Concordance to the Hebrew and Aramaic Fragments from Qumran II–X [Published privately, Göttingen, 1988], 3:1233). Puech, ibid., proposes ]‫לכול‬. However, the tiny traces of ink are illegible. 9 Thus read VanderKam and Brady. The vertical stroke with a hook-shaped top followed by a tiny trace of a vertical stroke (PAM 43.372) may also be read with Puech, ibid., as a vav and an alef, ‫[אליבוא‬. 10 Puech, ibid., restores ‫שמ]עי לי‬. However, the lacuna may hardly accommodate more than two letters. 11 The DJD edition has ] ‫[ם‬ ̊ ]◦◦◦◦. On the photographs (PAM 41.892; 41.492; 43.372) traces of he, gimel, dalet and vav are visible. Therefore, one can read and restore here with Puech, ibid.: [‫ה ̊ג ̊דו̊ ]ל‬. ̊ 12 The editors read here a final mem. However, Puech, ibid., correctly suggests that a base stroke and a bottom tip of a vertical stroke may belong to a medial kaf and a yod, ]‫כי]א‬. There is a blank space next to the yod. Apparently, the scroll read here ‫כי‬, and not ‫כיא‬, as in line 8. Puech, ibid., 470, reads ‫כ]יא‬, yet the lemma on p. 472 has correctly “ky[’.” 13 Thus reads the DJD edition. Strugnell read [‫( לכ]ול [דב]ריו [ומשפ]ט[י]ו‬Preliminary Concordance, 2:579). Puech, ibid., suggests ]‫בה]ר [ותשמע לו למ]ושה‬. The traces of the second letter are consistent with both a medial kaf and a medial mem. As to the rest of the letters, with an exception of the shin and the vav/yod, they are very difficult to decipher. Therefore, no reading is offered here. 14 The editors read ◦◦[ ]◦‫לכול מ‬. However, Strugnell plausibly proposed ‫( לכול מצ]ות י[הוה‬ibid., 3:1335). There seems to be enough space for the two vav letters, ‫מ]צוות‬, as suggests Puech, ibid. 15 Thus reads the DJD edition. Strugnell suggested [‫( המצו]ה‬ibid.) Puech, ibid., proposes ‫המת]גלה‬. The base stroke of the second letter may also belong to a medial nun. The bottom tips of the following two (or, probably, three) letters are illegible.

158


vac ‫ הראנו באש בעורה ממעלה ]מ[שמים‬16 ̊‫איש עם רעהו וכא]ש[ר ̊א ̊ת ̊ג ̊ד ̊לו‬ [ ] ‫להודיע כיא אין אלוה ̊מ ̊בלעדיו ואין צור כמוהו‬ ̊ ‫ועל ̊ה ̊ארץ עמד על ̇ההר‬ [‫]וכול‬ ‫ומקולו̊ ̊ת הפלא‬ ̊ ‫[ענו ורעדודיה אחזתם מלפני כבוד אלוהים‬ ̊ {‫הקהל} ̊ה ̊ע ̊ד]ה‬ ‫בענן ויכס‬ ̇ ‫ ומושה איש האלוהים עם אלוהי̇ ם‬vacat ‫ויעמודו מרוחק‬ ̊‫[כמו̊ ̊הו‬ ̊ ‫מבש]ר‬ ̊ ‫כיא מי‬ ̊ ‫ ◦] [בהקדשו וכמלאך ידבר מפיהו‬17‫עליו ̇ה ̇ענן כיא‬ 19 ◦◦◦◦[ ]◦◦◦ ‫ולע ̊ד‬ ̊ ‫נבר ̊או }ל{מעולם‬ ̇ ‫ [◦ם אשר לוא‬18‫וייצ]ו‬ ̊ ‫איש ̇חסדים‬ bottom margin

7 8 9 10 11 12

Translation20 1. [your] s[igns] and your wonders [ so that] 2. they may understand the statutes of Moses. vac [ ] 3. And Elibaḥ[ ]answered [and s]aid: ‘He[ar], congregation of YHWH, and pay attention, all the grea[t] assembly for [ ] 4. to [ ] [ ] [ ] vacat Cursed is the man who will not arise and keep and d[o] 16

VanderKam and Brady read ‫◦◦ש ◦] [ר‬. Puech, ibid., proposes ‫תפארתו‬. According to the photographs (PAM 41.942; 43.372), the first letter is represented by a tiny trace of ink. It appears above the hole in the parchment and may well be a right stroke of an alef. The following horizontal stroke with a serif at its left extremity suits a tav. Next to it traces of a gimel are visible (PAM 41.942). Dalet is represented by a vertical stroke and a trace of a horizontal stroke. The following vertical stroke may belong to a lamed. The last letter, read by the editors as a resh, seems to be a vav, as suggests Puech. 17 Thus reads the DJD edition. Puech, ibid., 470, 474, proposes ‫כיא נ]כבד‬, yet notes that a trace of a vertical stroke visible before the lacuna may be variously interpreted. Given the uncertainty, no reading is offered here. 18 DJD edition has ]◦‫ויו‬. Florentino García Martínez and Eibert J. C. Tigchelaar, The Dead Sea Scrolls: Study Edition (Leiden: Brill, 1997–98), 2:774, propose ]‫וידע‬. Puech, ibid., 470, suggests ]‫ויולד‬. The hook-shaped top of the third letter indicates that this is a vav or a yod. The right extremity of an upper horizontal stroke visible to the left of the yod (read as a lamed by Puech) and a vertical stroke curving to the left at its bottom (Puech’s dalet) may belong to a medial ṣade (cf. ṣade in ‫[ צור‬line 8]). 19 Thus reads the DJD edition. Puech, ibid., suggests ‫מי כמ]והו [מבני‬. However, only faint traces of ink have been preserved. The last two letters may be read as a medial kaf (or a bet) and a yod (or a vav). 20 The translation is that of VanderKam and Brady, DJD 28:214, with slight adaptations.


159

5. all the com[mandments of Y]HWH through the mouth of Moses, his anointed one, and to follow YHWH, the God of our fathers, who is [ ] 6. to us from Mount Sin[ai.] vac And he spoke wi[th ]the assembly of Israel face to face as a man speaks 7. with his friend and wh[e]n he showed us his greatness in a burning fire from above, [from] heaven. vac [ ] 8. And on the earth he stood, on the mountain, to make known that there is no god beside him and there is no rock like him. [And the entire] 9. assembly {the congrega[tion} ]answered. And a trembling seized them before the glory of God and because of the wondrous sounds, [ ] 10. and they stood at a distance. vacat And Moses, the man of God, is with God in the cloud. And the cloud covered 11. him because [ ]when he was sanctified, and as an angel he spoke from his mouth. For who is a mess[enger ] like him, 12. a man of pious acts? And he comman[ded ] that were not created {to} from eternity and forever [ ]

Elibaḥ[’s Curse Two words have survived in the first line of frg. 2 ii: “[your] s[igns] and your wonders.” Phrased as a second person address, they may constitute a part of a prayer. The formulation “[so that] they may have an understanding” (line 2) suggests that this is a prayer on the behalf of the people of Israel. Although the identity of the speaker is unknown, the reference to Moses in the third person, “the statutes of Moses” (line 2), rules out the possibility that he is the one who is speaking here. Separated by a blank space, a lengthy second person address follows in lines 3–12. The speaker is a certain ]‫אליבח‬, ̊ or perhaps, ‫אליבח]ר‬ ̊ or ]‫אליבו̊ ̊א‬.21

21

See note 8. Puech, “Le fragment,” 470–71, understands ‫ [אליבוא‬not as a name, but as a negation ‫ אל‬with a jussive ‫ יבוא‬written without a separating space. However, this interpretation contradicts the fact that in the Biblical and Qumran Hebrew the formula ‫ ויאמר‬. . . ‫ ויען‬always precedes the direct speech. Therefore, the word in question is best understood as a personal name.

160


Neither of these names is attested in the Hebrew Bible.22 Still, the fact that he addresses “all the grea[t] assembly” (line 4) and pronounces a curse on those who do not observe God’s commandments suggests that he is a man of considerable authority: Cursed is the man who will not arise (‫ )יעמוד‬and keep (‫ )וישמור‬and d[o] ([‫ )ויע]שה‬all the com[mandments of Y]HWH through the mouth of Moses, his anointed one (‫)משיחו‬, and to follow YHWH, the God of our fathers, who is [ ] to us from Mount Sin[ai]. (lines 4–6) This formulation alludes to the concluding covenantal curse from Deut 27:26: Cursed be he who will not uphold (‫ )יקים‬the terms of this Teaching and observe (‫ )לעשות‬them. Not only does the scroll replace the Hiphil of ‫ קום‬with a form of ‫( עמד‬as is frequently the case with ‫ קום‬in the Second Temple Hebrew)23 and adds ‫( וישמור‬cf. ‫[ ושמרתם ועשיתם‬Deut 4:6, 7:12]), but also introduces Moses into its reworking of this passage. Thus the phrase “the terms (Smr and G add ‘all’) of this Teaching” is recast here as “all the com[mandments of Y]HWH through the mouth of Moses, his anointed one.” This expansion of the biblical text presents Moses as the one who transmitted the divine law to the people. The appellation “his anointed one” (‫ )משיחו‬may also point to his role as the bearer of God’s word, for the Hebrew Bible employs both the verb ‫ משח‬and the noun ‫ משיח‬with reference to the prophets (1 Kgs 19:16; Isa 61:1; Ps 105:15; 1 Chr 16:22).24 In a similar fashion, in 22

As the editors note (DJD 28:214), the name ‫ אלבא‬occurs in the 8th-century B.C.E. ostraca from Samaria. See Ran Zadok, The Pre-Hellenistic Israelite Anthroponymy and Prosopography (OLA 28; Leuven: Peeters, 1988), 279 (#72129.5). 23 See Avi Hurvitz, “The Linguistic Status of Ben Sira as a Link between the Biblical and the Mishnaic Hebrew: Lexicographical Aspects,” in The Hebrew of the Dead Sea Scrolls and Ben Sira (ed. Takamitsu Muraoka and John F. Elwolde; STDJ 26; Leiden: Brill, 1997), 78–85; Haim Dihi, “The Morphological and Lexical Innovations in the Book of Ben Sira” (Ph.D. diss., Ben-Gurion University of the Negev, 2004), 514–16 [Hebrew]. 24 Thus Zimmermann, Messianische Texte, 339–40; Michael Wise, “A Moses Apocryphon,” in Dead Sea Scrolls: A New Translation (ed. Michael Wise et al.; New York: Harper, 2005), 427; Paul E. Hughes, “Moses’ Birth Story: A Biblical Matrix for Prophetic Messianism,” in Eschatology, Messianism, and the Dead Sea


161

several Qumran texts the prophets are designated as God’s anointed ones (CD 2:12; cf. CD 6:1 [=4Q267 2 6; 6Q15 3 4]; 1QM 11:7–8).25

God’s Direct Communication with Israel at Sinai The expanded version of the Deuteronomic curse is followed by a call “to follow YHWH, the God of our fathers” (line 5). The speaker reminds his audience that in addition to addressing them through Moses, God also revealed himself (the precise wording of the scroll here is obscure) to them at Sinai, “to us from Mount Sin[ai” (lines 5–6). These two modes of the divine communication, namely by a direct revelation and through Moses, are intricately interwoven in both Exodus and Deuteronomy.26 Perhaps the best example of the ambiguity resulting from their juxtaposition in the biblical sources is Deut 5:4: Face to face the Lord spoke to you (‫ )דבר ה' עמכם‬on the mountain out of the fire. I stood between the Lord and you at that time to convey the Lord’s words to you.27

Scrolls (ed. Craig A. Evans and Peter W. Flint; Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1997), 13; Xeravits, King, 125, 179; VanderKam and Brady, DJD 28:215; Van Peursen, “Portrait,” 113; Makkiello, “Angel,” 123; Fabry, “Mose,” 136–38, 141–42; idem, “Die Messiaserwartung in den Handschriften von Qumran,” in Wisdom and Apocalypticism in the Dead Sea Scrolls and in the Biblical Tradition (ed. Florentino García Martínez; Leuven: University Press, 2003), 357–84 at 381; Jassen, Mediating, 100–102. Bowley, “Moses,” 175–76, prefers a more general approach, suggesting that the title ‫ משיח‬indicates “the special status and significance of Moses.” 25 See the recent discussion by Jassen, ibid., 85–103. 26 See Jacob Licht, “The Theophany at the Mount Sinai,” in Studies in the Bible and the Ancient Near East (ed. Itzhak Avishur and Joshua Blau; Jerusalem: Rubinstein, 1978), 251–67 [Hebrew]; Moshe Greenberg, “The Decalogue Tradition Critically Reexamined,” in The Ten Commandments in History and Tradition (ed. Ben-Zion Segal and Gershon Levi; Jerusalem: Magnes, 1985), 84–87; Mark Z. Brettler, “ ‘Fire, Cloud, and Deep Darkness’ (Deuteronomy 5:22): Deuteronomy’s Recasting of Revelation,” in The Significance of Sinai (ed. George J. Brooke, Hindy Najman, and Loren T. Stuckenbruck; TBN 12; Leiden: Brill, 2008), 16–27 at 17–20. 27 See Moshe Weinfeld, Deuteronomy 1–11 (The Anchor Bible; New York:

162


4Q377’s description of the Sinai theophany also opens with the statement that God spoke to Israelites face to face. Yet, instead of using the ambiguous passage from Deut 5:4, it selects another text containing the imagery of God speaking to a human face to face: “The Lord would speak to (‫)אל‬ ֶ Moses face to face (‫)פנים ֶאל פנים‬, as one man speaks to (‫)אל‬ ֶ another” (Exod 33:11). By applying this passage to the Sinai revelation,28 the scroll draws a parallel between God’s direct communication with Moses in the Tent of Meeting and his non-mediated speech to Israel at Sinai: And he spoke wi[th (‫ ])]ע]ם‬the assembly of Israel face to face (‫פנים עם‬ ‫ )אל פנים‬as a man speaks with (‫ )עם‬his friend. (lines 6–7) Undoubtedly, such a reading of Exod 33:11 has been influenced by Deut 5:4.29 Echoing the language of Deut 5:4 (‫)דבר ה' עמכם‬, the scroll consistently replaces the construction ‫ דבר אל‬with the synonymous ‫דבר עם‬. Yet, in one case the preposition ‫ אל‬has also been retained (by oversight?), producing an unusual doubling of prepositions ‫פנים עם אל פנים‬.30 Just as Deut 5:4 states that God spoke to the people “face to face” “on the mountain out of the fire,” so also 4Q377 goes on to describe God’s whereabouts when he addressed Israel: and wh[e]n he showed us his greatness in a burning fire from above, [from] heaven. vac [ ]. And on the earth he stood, on the mountain, to make known that there is no god beside him and there is no rock like him. (lines 7–8) The biblical Sinai accounts differ on the question of God’s location at the time of the revelation.31 Thus, Exod 19:18 reads: “Now Mount Sinai was all in smoke, for the Lord had come upon it in fire” (cf. vss. 11, 20). Yet, Doubleday 1991), 212–13; Jeffrey H. Tigay, Deuteronomy (The JPS Torah Commentary; Philadelphia: JPS, 1996), 61–62. 28 As noted by Zimmermann, Messianische Texte, 338; Puech, “Le fragment,” 472; van Peursen, “Portrait,” 101–2. 29 VanderKam and Brady, DJD 28:215. 30 Van Peursen, “Portrait,” 103 n. 20, explains the construction ‫ עם אל‬in light of the tendency to accumulate prepositions in the late Biblical and Rabbinic Hebrew. However, the construction ‫ עם אל‬is not attested either in the late biblical books or in the Rabbinic sources. The reading ‫[פנ̊ י̊ ̊ם ̊ע ̊ם ̊א ̊ל ̊פנ̊ י̊ ̊ם ̊כ ̊א]שר‬ ̊ in 4Q377 1 ii 5 is highly dubious. 31 See Brettler, “Fire, Cloud, and Deep Darkness,” 17–19.


163

in Exod 20:19(22) God says: “You yourselves saw that I spoke to you from the very heavens.” The scroll avoids a direct use of these passages. Instead, it alludes to a verse that reconciles these two views: From heaven he made you hear his voice to discipline you. On earth he showed you his great fire. (Deut 4:36) Utilizing the language of this passage (“from heaven . . . on earth”), 4Q377 reworks it to present a diametrically opposed picture. Thus while Deut 4:36 says that God showed his fire on the earth, the scroll claims that the burning fire was seen from above. Also, unlike Deut 4:36, where God’s voice is heard from heaven, 4Q377 reports that God spoke to the people standing on the mountain.32 These two features of the scroll’s description are reminiscent of God’s fiery descent from heavens upon Mount Sinai in Exod 19:11, 18, 20. It appears that 4Q377 reworked Deut 4:36 in light of Exod 19:18, harmonizing these two accounts of the Sinai theophany. While standing on the mountain, God is said “to make known that there is no god besides him and there is no rock like him” (line 8). This statement, based on Ps 18:32 and 2 Sam 22:32,33 parallels the first of the Ten Commandments: “you shall have no other gods before me” (Exod 20:3; Deut 5:7). The scroll then proceeds to describe people’s reaction to God’s words:

32

The verbs ‫“( הראנו‬he showed us”; line 7) and ‫“( עמד‬he stood”) have God as a subject (cf. Exod 17:6; Hab 3:6). Fletcher-Louis, “Reflections,” 300–305, idem, Glory, 143–48, proposed that ‫ עמד‬refers to Moses and took it as an indication that 4Q377 attributes a divine status to Moses. A similar interpretation has been suggested by Andrei Orlov, “Moses’ Heavenly Counterpart in the Book of Jubilees and the Exagoge of Ezekiel the Tragedian,” Bib 88 (2007): 153–73 at 167–68; ibid., “In the Mirror of the Divine Face: The Enochic Features of the Exagoge of Ezekiel the Tragedian,” in Brooke et al., eds., The Significance of Sinai, 183–99. For a detailed critique of their arguments see van Peursen, “Portrait,” 104–6; Ruffatto, “Exaltation.” 33 While the scroll uses the divine title ‫ אלוה‬found in Ps 18:32, it also employs the construction ‫ מבלעדיו‬occurring in 2 Sam 22:32. The rhetorical questions posed by the psalmist have been reworked in 4Q377 as an emphatic statement using the negation ‫אין‬, perhaps, under the influence of Deut 4:35: “It has been clearly demonstrated to you that the Lord alone is God; there is none beside him (‫ ;אין עוד מלבדו‬cf. also vs. 39).”

164


[and the entire] assembly {the congrega[tion} ]answered. And a trembling seized them before the glory of God and because of the wondrous sounds, [ ] and they stood at a distance. (lines 8–10) This formulation reworks Exod 20:15–16(18–19): All the people witnessed (‫ )ראים‬the thunder (‫ )את הקולת‬and lightning, the blare of the horn and the mountain smoking; and when the people saw it, they fell back (‫ )וינעו‬and stood at a distance. “You speak to us,” they said to Moses, “and we will obey; but let not God speak to us, lest we die.” The phrase “[and the entire] assembly answered” points to the people’s plea to Moses: “ ‘You speak to us.”34 The expression “and a trembling seized them” expounds the verb ‫ וינעו‬of vs. 15(18). The author of 4Q377 understood it not as a movement (cf. “they fell back” [NJPS]), but as a trembling. A similar interpretation is found in the later Jewish sources.35 According to the scroll, people trembled “because of the wondrous sounds (‫)ומקולות הפלא‬.” While the text leaves the designation “wondrous” unexplained, one might suggest that it points to a peculiar feature of the sounds: according to Exod 20:15(18) they were seen, not heard.36 In Exod 20 people’s fear and plea to Moses are mentioned after the Ten Commandments (vss. 20:15–16[18–19]). However, in 4Q377 they are juxtaposed with an allusion to the first of the Ten Commandments. Perhaps, the author of the scroll noticed the change in the voice of the speaker from the first person in Exod 20:2–6 to a third person in vss. 7–14(16). As a result, he might have concluded that God announced to Israel only the first two Commandments (summarized in line 8 as “there is no god besides him and there is no rock like him”), while the remaining eight were given 34

Alternatively, 4Q377 may allude to people’s response in Exod 19:8 or 24:3: “All the people answered as one, saying, “All that the Lord has spoken we will do.’ ” 35 See, for instance, Aramaic Targums (Onq., Frg., and Neof.) ad loc. and Mek. deRabbi Ishmael Baḥodesh 9 (Horovitz-Rabin ed., 236). For a detailed discussion see Yeshayahu Maori, The Peshitta Version of the Pentateuch and Early Jewish Exegesis ( Jerusalem: Magnes, 1995), 66–67 [Hebrew]. 36 For the ancient interpretations of this verse see James Kugel, Traditions of the Bible (London: Harvard University Press, 1998), 676–77; Steven D. Fraade, “Hearing and Seeing at Sinai: Interpretive Trajectories,” in Brooke et al., eds., The Significance of Sinai, 247–68.


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through Moses.37 In this case, the fear of the people and their request that Moses speak to them would have to be transposed after vs. 6.38 In fact, such an interpretation of Exod 20 is found in the Rabbinic sources: Israel heard two utterances from the mouth of the Holy one blessed be He. R. Joshua b. Levi said: The reason of the Rabbis (for saying that all the Ten Commandments were given directly by God) is because after all the commandments it is written, Speak thou with us, and we will hear (Exod 20:16). And how does R. Joshua b. Levi explains this? He differs from them holding that chronological order is not strictly observed in the Torah. But even so, may not the words Speak thou with us, and we will hear have been spoken after two or three commandments? (Cant. Rab. 1:2)39 Still one also has to consider a possibility that the phrase “to make known that there is no god besides him” (line 8) refers to the Ten Commandments as a whole. In that case, by reworking Exod 20:15–16(18–19) right next to it, the scroll simply followed the order of the events as outlined in Exod 20. According to this interpretation, 4Q377 concurs with other ancient Jewish sources claiming that all the Ten Commandments were given to Israel directly by God.40

37

This interpretation is found in the Rabbinic literature, e.g. b. Mak. 24a and b. Hor. 8a. See Kugel, ibid., 636–37. Michael Segal, “Biblical Exegesis in 4Q158: Techniques and Genre,” Textus 19 (1998): 45–62 at 56–58, proposed that it may also underlie the wording of 4Q158 frgs. 6 and 7–8. 38 According to this interpretation, the phrase “to make known that there is no god besides him” stands here for the entire passage found in Exod 20:2(3?)–6. On the various approaches to the counting of the Commandments in these verses see Greenberg, “Decalogue,” 96–99; Mordechai Breuer, “Dividing the Decalogue into Verses and Commandments,” in The Ten Commandments in History and Tradition (ed. Ben-Zion Segal and Gershon Levi; Jerusalem: Magnes, 1985), 314–26; Kugel, ibid., 641–43. 39 Midrash Rabbah: Song of Songs. Transl. by Maurice Simon (London: Soncino Press, 1939), 22. Cf. Pesiq. Rab. Ten Commandments 22. 40 See Philo, Decal. 33 (175); Josephus, Ant. 3.90, 93; L.A.B. 11:6–14; Mek. deRabbi Ishmael Baḥodesh 4 and 9 (Horovitz-Rabin ed., 218, 237). See further Kugel, Traditions, 636–37.

166


The Role of Moses at Sinai Exod 20:18(21) reports that as the people stood at a distance “Moses approached the thick cloud where God was.” Similarly, having described the people’s fearful retreat, 4Q377 depicts Moses as being with God in the cloud: and they stood at a distance. vacat And Moses, the man of God, is with God in the cloud. And the cloud covered him (‫ )ויכס עליו הענן‬because [ ] when he was sanctified (‫)בהקדשו‬, and as an angel he spoke from his mouth. (lines 10–11) With an exception of the phrase “and they stood at a distance,” pointing to Exod 20:15, 18(19, 21), the wording of the scroll depends here on Exod 24:15–18: When Moses had ascended the mountain, the cloud covered (‫ )ויכס‬the mountain. The Presence of the Lord ('‫ )כבוד ה‬abode on Mount Sinai, and the cloud hid it (‫ )ויכסהו הענן‬for six days. On the seventh day He called to Moses from the midst of the cloud . . . Moses went inside the cloud and ascended the mountain. Apparently, the author of 4Q377 concluded that Moses’ approaching the thick cloud of Exod 20:18 and his ascent to the mount covered by the cloud in Exod 24:16 refer to the same event.41 Therefore, he juxtaposed the reworking of Exod 24:15–18 to that of Exod 20:15–16(18–19). A similar interpretation seems to be reflected in L.A.B. 11:15: All the people stood far off, but Moses approached the cloud (Exod 20:18[21]), knowing that God was there. Then God told him his statutes and his laws (Deut 5:28[31]), and kept him forty days and forty nights (Exod 24:18). The phrase ‫ ויכסהו הענן‬found in Exod 24:16 may be interpreted both as referring to Mt. Sinai and to Moses. The formulation “and the cloud covered him (‫ ”)ויכס עליו הענן‬indicates that 4Q377 applied it to Moses. While Exod 24:15–18 is silent regarding the purpose of Moses’ prolonged stay on

41

Mek. deRabbi Shimon Bar Yoḥ ai Mishpaṭim (to Exod 24:1; Epstein-Melamed ed., 220) interprets Moses’ ascents in Exod 20:17 and Exod 24:1 as the same event.


167

the mountain covered by the cloud, the scroll implies that it was in order that he might be sanctified by the cloud. Being sanctified, Moses is said to speak from God’s mouth “as an angel.” A similar interpretation of Exod 24:16 is found in the Rabbinic sources: We have a teaching in accord with Resh Lakish: Moses went up in a cloud, was covered by the cloud, and was sanctified by the cloud in order that he might receive the Torah for Israel in sanctity, as it is written: And the glory of the Lord abode upon Mount Sinai, this took place after the Ten Commandments . . . this is the view of R. Jose the Galilean. (b. Yoma 4a–b)42 Like the author of 4Q377, R. Jose the Galilean (beginning of the second century C.E.) understood the verb ‫ ויכסהו‬of Exod 24:16 as referring to Moses and interpreted his covering with a cloud as an act of sanctification. Also, according to both texts, Moses’ sanctification had to do with his role as the bearer of the divine words. Moreover, R. Jose believed that Moses’ stay in the cloud took place after the Ten Commandments were given. As has been noted above, this might have been also the point of view of the author of 4Q377. Finally, the passage from b. Yoma goes on to cite the saying by R. Nathan (middle of the second century C.E.): R. Nathan says: The purpose of Scripture was that he [Moses] might be purged of all food and drink in his bowels so as to make him equal to the ministering angels. This notion of Moses’ being purged to become as one of the ministering angels (‫ )כמלאכי שרת‬should be compared to the scroll’s comparison of the sanctified Moses to an angel, ‫כמלאך‬.43 Elsewhere the Midrash draws a parallel between the seven days of Moses’ sanctification in the cloud (he is summoned by God on the seventh day)

42

Isidore Epstein, The Babylonian Talmud: Seder Moed (London: Soncino, 1938), 13. See also Mek. deRabbi Shimon Bar Yoḥ ai Yethro (to Exod 19:9; EpsteinMelamed ed., 140); ʾAbot R. Nat. (both versions) 1 (Schechter ed., 1). The editors of 4Q377 also cite the passage from b. Yoma. Yet, they only note the fact that both the scroll and the Talmudic passage refer to Moses’ sanctification. 43 The fact that the scroll does not attribute to Moses an angelic status, but compares his role to that of an angel, has been emphasized by several scholars. See, for instance, Brooke, “Moses in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” 221.

168


and the seven days of Aaron’s installation into the priesthood in Exod 29.44 It is difficult to ascertain whether this analogy underlies 4Q377’s interpretation of Moses’ stay in the cloud. Still, it is possible that the phrase ‫בהקדשו‬ (“when he was sanctified”) alludes to Exod 29:43, the only place in the Hebrew Bible where a Niphal form of ‫ קדש‬refers not to God’s showing himself as holy, but to the sanctification of an object, the Tent of Meeting: “and there I will meet with the Israelites, and it shall be sanctified by My Presence (‫)ונקדש בכבדי‬.”45 According to Exod 24:16 the cloud that covered Moses represented the Presence of the Lord ('‫)כבוד ה‬. By associating these two passages the author of 4Q377 might have concluded that Moses has been sanctified by the cloud. Having said that Moses spoke from God’s mouth as an angel, the scroll further highlights his unique role as God’s emissary by posing a rhetorical question (line 11): “who is a mess[enger46] (or, alternatively, “from flesh”)47 like him, a man of pious acts?” The appellation “a man of pious acts,” ‫איש חסדים‬, has been borrowed from Moses’ blessing of Levi in Deut 33:8: “And of Levi he said: Give to Levi your Thummim, and your Urim to your loyal one (‫)לאיש ֲח ִס ֶדָך‬.48 In all likelihood, the author of 4Q377 read it as ‫לאיש ֲח ָס ֶד)י(ָך‬, a plural of ‫( ֶח ֶסד‬cf. ‫[ זכור ]את [דויד שהיא איש חסדים‬4Q398 14–17 ii 1]) and applied it to Moses, the great-grandson of Levi.49 See, for instance, ʾAbot R. Nat. (B) 1 (Schechter ed., 1); Num. Rab. 49. For a similar analogy in the modern commentaries on Exod 24 see William H. C. Propp, Exodus 19–40 (Anchor Bible; New York: Doubleday, 2006), 2:299. On Sinai as a Sanctuary with Moses as a High Priest see Nahum Sarna, Exodus: The Traditional Hebrew Text with the New JPS Translation (The JPS Torah Commentary; Philadelphia: JPS, 1991), 105–6. 45 BDB, 873. 46 Xeravits, King, 179; Wise, “Moses Apocryphon,” 428. 47 Zimmermann, Messianische Texte, 335–36; Fletcher-Louis, Glory, 142; Puech, “Le fragment,” 474; Makiello, “Angel,” 124. 48 Aramaic Targums (Ps.-J., Frg., and Neof.) ad loc. interpret this passage as referring to Aaron. A similar interpretation seems to underlie Sifre Deut. 349 (Finkelstein ed., 408). On the other hand, in Lev. Rab. 1:4 (Margaliot ed., 15) it is applied to Moses. 49 The scroll 4Q378 (Apocryphon of Joshuaa) 26 2 also seems to refer to Moses as ‫[איש ה]ח[סדים‬. 4Q337 2 i 8 (see Appendix) preserves yet another possible vocalization of the Deuteronomic ‫לאיש חסדך‬, ‫“( איש החסידים‬one of the pious ones”). The context suggests that it may also refer to Moses. See VanderKam and Brady, DJD 28:212. 44


169

The last line of frg. 2 ii reads: “And he comm[anded ] that were not created from eternity and forever.” The scroll alludes here to Exod 34:10: “Before all your people I will work such wonders (‫ )נפלאות‬as have not been wrought (‫ )אשר לא נבראו‬on all the earth or in any nation.” Yet, while in the biblical passage it is God who performs the wonders, here the verb ‫“( וייצ]ו‬And he comman[ded”) may have Moses as the subject. It also indicates that the scroll speaks of laws, not of wonders. Are these the remaining eight Commandments? In this case one might read and restore here ‫( וייצ]ו דבר[ים‬cf. Exod 34:28, 35:1). Or, perhaps, rather than ‫דברים‬, these are the other precepts of the Torah, ‫ משפטים‬or ‫חוקים‬, mentioned in Deut 5:28(31): “But you remain here with Me (cf. ‫ עם אלוהים‬. . . ‫ומשה‬ [line 10]), and I will give you the whole instruction—the laws and the rules (‫—)והמשפטים‬that you shall impart to them.”50

Conclusions The admonitory discourse found in 4Q377 2 ii 3–11 opens with a curse on those who do not “d[o] all the com[mandments of Y]HWH through the mouth of Moses” and “follow YHWH, the God of our fathers who is [ ] to us from Mount Sin[ai].” In what follows, the speaker briefly outlines these two modes of the divine communication at Sinai: by means of a direct revelation and through Moses. Evoking the description of God’s intimate communication with Moses in the Tent of Meeting, the scroll affirms that he addressed Israel directly from Mt. Sinai. Yet, it appears that this direct revelation was restricted to the Ten Commandments (or, perhaps, to the first two of them) alone. The rest of the divine laws were given through Moses. To prepare him for this role, God sanctified Moses in the cloud of His presence. Sanctified Moses faithfully transmitted God’s words to the people as if he were an angel speaking from God’s mouth. Thus, the speaker’s curse on those who do not observe “all the com[mandments of Y]HWH through the mouth of Moses” is fully substantiated. This concise and consistent description of the Sinai revelation is, in fact, an intricate web of allusions to the Exodus and Deuteronomy accounts of the Sinai theophany. The brevity is achieved by omitting many details 50

This verse, occurring at the same stage of the Sinai account in Deut 5, has been introduced into the reworking of Exod 20:18(21) and 24:18 in the aforementioned passage from L.A.B. 11:15 (cf. also Sam version of Exod 20:18).

170


found in the biblical versions of the events, while the consistency is a result of a cautious avoidance of, and sometimes a harmonization of, the discrepancies embedded in the biblical narratives. The way the author of 4Q377 treats the biblical Sinai accounts sheds light on his understanding of both the general sequence and the minute details of the events. Some features of his exegesis have parallels in the contemporaneous literature, for example, the association of Moses’ entering the thick cloud in Exod 20 with his stay in the cloud in Exod 24. At the same time, the interpretation of Exod 24:16 as referring to Moses’ sanctification is otherwise known only from the Rabbinic sources. 4Q377’s depiction of the Sinai revelation is not an entirely neutral account. Perhaps this is not surprising, as it forms a part of an admonition. Although the speaker makes clear that God spoke to Israel both directly and through Moses, he repeatedly emphasizes the role played by Moses at Sinai. The extant text of 4Q377 2 ii does not disclose the circumstances in which this discourse was delivered. The reworking of the story of Miriam’s leprosy (Num 12) in the preceding column (col. i 8–10 [see Appendix]) might provide the background for the admonition highlighting Moses’ uniqueness as God’s messenger.51 However, the precise relationship between the two columns remains unclear and requires further study.

Appendix. 4Q377 2 i: Text and Translation [ ‫[◦מ ̇ה‬ ̊ 53 ‫למ[טה‬ ̊

52

51

] 1 ] 2 ] 3

See VanderKam and Brady, DJD 28:212; Hanna Tervanotko, “‘The Hope of the Enemy Has Perished’: The Figure of Miriam in the Qumran Library,” in From Qumran to Aleppo (ed. Armin Lange et al.; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2009), 156–75 at 161–64. 52 The DJD edition reads ̊‫[◦◦י̊ ו‬. However, the reading proposed by Puech, “Le fragment,” 475, ‫[◦מה‬, seems to suit better the evidence. He reads the first letter as a shin, yet the tiny trace of ink is illegible. Puech’s transcription has no diacritic marks. 53 VanderKam and Brady read ‫[ז̊ ה‬. Although the vertical stroke visible on the fragment and its photographs (PAM 41.892; 41.942; 43.372) may indeed be read as a zayin, yet, in view of the context, Puech’s reading and restoration, ‫למ[טה‬, seem to be preferable.

171


‫למ[טה בנימין רפיה‬ ̇ ‫ למטה גד אליו‬54‫מרי‬ ̊ ̇‫ע[ו‬ ‫̊[ל המאסף מבן עשרים שנה‬ vacat [ ‫[ל איש ̊ה ̊חסידים וישא קולו‬ ]◦[ 57 ‫? ̊בנ̇ י‬vac 56‫ותסג[רמרים מעיני‬ ̊ ‫ חרון ̊א]פו‬55‫ו[י̊ שוב‬ ‫ כיא‬59‫ ̊עלינו ונהגה ̊עלינו‬58‫[ה‬ ̊ 60 ◦◦◦‫[ש‬ ̊ ]◦[ [ bottom margin 54

] ] ] ‫]ומעלה‬ ] ] ‫]ישראל‬ ] ]

4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

The DJD edition has ]‫ימרי‬. García Martínez and Tigchelaar, Study Edition, 2:744, suggest ]‫זמרי‬. However, on the photograph PAM 43.372 the hook-shaped top, identifying the first letter as a vav or a yod, is clearly visible. Since in the Dead Sea scrolls a short “i” in a closed unaccentuated syllable is usually not represented by a yod, it is proposed to read here a vav. See Elisha Qimron, “A Grammar of the Hebrew Language of the Dead Sea Scrolls” (Ph.D. diss., Hebrew University, 1976), 100 [Hebrew]. 55 VanderKam and Brady read ‫ו[ישיב‬. The vertical stroke next to the shin may be read both as a vav and a yod. The editors restore ‫ו[ישיב‬. However, in both Biblical and Qumran Hebrew 3d masc. sg. Hiphil imperfects of ‫ שוב‬with vav conjunctive/inversive are spelled without a yod, ‫וישב‬. In light of the highly plausible restoration ‫ותסג[ר‬, based on Num 12:15, one expects here an inverted imperfect. Therefore, I read ‫ו[ישוב‬. While in the Biblical Hebrew 3d masc. sg. Qal imperfects of ‫ שוב‬with vav conjunctive/inversive are also short, in Qumran scrolls a few deviations from this rule are attested, e.g. ‫( וישוב להודיע‬4Q254a 3 4). See Qimron, “Dissertation,” 183, 201, 206. 56 The DJD edition has ‫מעינו‬. vav and yod are frequently indistinguishable in 4Q377. On contextual grounds it is proposed to read here a yod. 57 The editors read ‫שני‬. On the photograph PAM 43.372 a vertical stroke of a bet is visible. The three strokes that have been misread as a shin are, in fact, a base and an upper bar of a bet. The word ‫ בני‬seems to be preceded by a blank space (2–3 letter spaces; a defect in leather?), which is now partially destroyed by a hole in the leather. 58 The editors offer no reading for the traces of the first letter. On the photograph PAM 43.372 a left vertical stroke and a left extremity of an upper bar of a he are visible. 59 The DJD edition has ‫עלינו ונהגה אלינו‬. Puech, “Le fragment,” 475, proposes ‫אלינו ונהגה עלינו‬. A close examination of the fragment and its photographs (especially PAM 41.942; 43.372) suggests that first letter in both words is an ayin. 60 The DJD edition reads ]‫ש‬. However, according to the photograph PAM 43.372 there are illegible traces of two or three letters next to the shin.

172


Translation61 1. [ ][ 2. [ ][ 3. [ to the tri]be [ 4. [ to the tr]ibe of Benjamin Rephaiah 5. [ O]mri. To the tribe of Gad Elyo 6. [ ] the rearguard from twenty years of age 7. [ ] vacat 8. [ ] one of the pious ones. And he lifted his voice 9. [ and] the anger of [his] fu[ry] abated. [And] Miriam [was shu]t from the eyes vac? of the sons of 10. [Israel ] upon us and lead her to us,62 because 11. [ ][ ]

61

The translation is that of VanderKam and Brady, DJD 28:212, with slight adaptations. 62 The phrase ‫ ונהגה עלינו‬found in line 10 is difficult to interpret, as the construction ‫ נהג על‬is not attested in the Biblical and Qumran Hebrew. Perhaps, one should read ‫ עלינו‬as ‫ ֶאלינו‬and vocalize ‫ ונהגה‬as ‫ונְ ָהגַ הּ‬: “and lead her (Miriam) to us.” For ‫אל‬/‫ על‬interchange in Qumran scrolls see Eduard Y. Kutscher, The Language and Linguistic Background of The Isaiah Scroll (1QIsaa) (Leiden: Brill, 1974), 404–5; Qimron, “Dissertation,” 88.


brill.nl/dsd

“Love Your Fellow as Yourself ”: The Interpretation of Leviticus 19:17–18 in the Book of Jubilees1 Atar Livneh University of Notre Dame, Notre Dame, IN 46556 [email protected]

Abstract Leviticus 19:17–18 has long been noted as possessing a significant role within the book of Jubilees. This paper examines the references to these verses, both explicit and via phrases alluding to the ordinance. Two specific aspects of the law are alluded to in Jubilees: “You shall not hate your kinsfolk in your heart” (Lev 19:17a) and “Love your fellow as yourself ” (Lev 19:18b). The author of Jubilees understands the first as relating to peaceful coexistence, the second to malicious intent, specifically the intent to murder. This exegesis is consistent throughout Jubilees, as attested by the usage of fixed terms and idioms depicting the observance/violation of the law across various literary units. Keywords Jubilees; Lev 19:17–18; fraternal love; peaceful coexistence; malicious intent

The significance attributed by Second Temple Jewish authors to the commandment “Love your fellow as yourself ” has long been noted by scholars.2 1

The preparation and research for this article was made possible by a grant from the Memorial Foundation for Jewish Culture. This paper is an expanded version of a presentation given at a workshop for research students working in fields related to Land of Israel Studies held at the Ben-Zvi Institute in May 2010. I would like to thank Michael Segal for his helpful comments as a respondent on this occasion, and Ariel Feldman, who kindly read an earlier draft. 2 See H. Albeck, Das Buch der Jubiläen und die Halacha (Berlin: Siegfried Scholem, 1930), who was the first to note the central place of Lev 19:17–18 in © Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2011

DOI: 10.1163/156851711X570418

174

A. Livneh / Dead Sea Discoveries 18 (2011) 173–199

Allusions to Lev 19:17–18 occur in two sectarian texts found at Qumran—the Manual of Discipline and the Damascus Document—as well as in the Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha.3 In examining the halakah in Jubilees, Albeck identified some of the references to “Love your fellow as yourself ” embedded in various testamentary texts within this composition ( Jub. 7:20, 20:2, 36:4, 8).4 Much more recently, Doran has investigated the special role played by the theme of “brotherly love” in Jubilees, which he implies derive from the historical circumstances of the period under discussion.5 While Lambert has also briefly discussed the commandment Jubilees; and more recently, J. Kugel, “On Hidden Hatred and Open Reproach: Early Exegesis of Leviticus 19:17,” HTR 80 (1987): 43–61; idem, Traditions of the Bible (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1998), 752–59, 766–70. 3 Cf. 1QS 5:24–6:1; CD 6:21–7:3, 9:2–8; Tob 4:15; Sir 19:13–17; Let. Arist. 207. Among the many references to Lev 19:17–18 in the Testament of the XII Patriarchs, see, for example, T. Reu. 6:8; T. Sim. 5:7; T. Zeb. 8:5. 4 Albeck, Das Buch der Jubiläen und die Halacha, 45–46. Although fourteen Hebrew manuscripts of Jubilees—customarily dated to the second century B.C.E.—were found at Qumran, the full text has only been preserved in Geʿez. As VanderKam has demonstrated, this text closely resembles the Hebrew original; see J. C. VanderKam, Textual and Historical Studies in the Book of Jubilees (Missoula: Scholars Press, 1977), 91–95. Herein, we rely primarily upon his critical edition of the Geʿez text: J. C. VanderKam, The Book of Jubilees (Leuven: Peeters, 1989). In those cases in which terminology relating to the fulfillment/violation of Lev 19:17–18 occurs in the Hebrew fragments found at Qumran, this fact will be footnoted. For the dating of Jubilees, see J. C. VanderKam, “The Origins and Purposes of the Book of Jubilees,” in Studies in the Book of Jubilees (ed. M. Albani, J. Frey, and A. Lange; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1997), 3–24. All biblical quotations cited here are taken from the NJPS unless otherwise indicated. 5 R. Doran, “The Non-Dating of Jubilees: Jub 34–38; 23:14–32 in Narrative Context,” JSJ 20 (1989): 1–11, esp. 5–11. These appear to be inter-Jewish rivalries. Although Doran argues (ibid., 11) that an emphasis upon fraternal love “would probably not have been necessary after 167,” the same historical circumstances continued to prevail post-167 B.C.E.: cf. Macc 1 6:18–27, 7:5–50, 9:24– 73; CD 20:25–27; 1QpHab 11:4–8; 4Q169 3–4 i–iv. Moreover, as I shall endeavor to illustrate below, the interpretation given to the injunction “Love your fellow as yourself ” in Jubilees both demonstrates linguistic and thematic affinities with various passages from the Pentateuch and Prophets and shares several exegetical features with other early writings (such as the Testaments of the XII Patriarchs and Josephus’ Antiquities). Jubilees thus appears to reflect not only the socio-historical setting in which it was composed but also literary and exegetical concerns.


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“Love your fellow as yourself ” in his study of the final testaments in Jubilees, no systematic examination of the references to Lev 19:17–18 in Jubilees has yet been conducted.6 The present paper hopes to remedy this deficiency in part by undertaking a methodological exploration of the relevant passages in the book. Before engaging in a detailed analysis of the various allusions to the commandment under discussion in Jubilees, a few general comments are in order. Firstly, Jub. 46:1 clearly indicates that the author of the book understood Lev 19:17–18 as referring to inter-Israelite relations: They [the Israelites] became a populous nation, and all of them were in harmony [literally: the same] in their heart so that each one loved the other and each one helped the other. ( Jub. 46:1)7 This passage alludes to the two verses which constitute Lev 19:17–18. The description “all of them were in harmony in their heart” refers to the statement “you shall not hate your kinsman (‫ )אחיך‬in your heart” (Lev 19:17a), the clause “so that each one loved his brother” recalling Lev 19:18b: “You shall love your fellow (‫ )רעך‬as yourself.”8 The author of Jubilees appears to have understood the words ‫( אחיך‬Lev 19:17a) and ‫רעך‬ (Lev 19:18b) as synonymous, both referring to ‫( בן העם‬Lev 19:17b)—i.e., a fellow Israelite.9 The multivalence of the Hebrew word ‫אח‬, however, facilitated the possibility of interpreting the ordinance as relating to the relationship between biological brothers—Shem, Ham, and Japheth ( Jub. 7:20) or Jacob and Esau ( Jub. 35:20, 36:4, 8–11), for example.10

6

D. Lambert, “Last Testaments in the Book of Jubilees,” DSD 11 (2004): 82–107, esp. 88–91, 99–101. 7 The citations from Jubilees follow VanderKam, The Book of Jubilees, with the exception of the literal translation of the Geʿez word ləbb as “heart” rather than VanderKam’s “mind” and words derived from the Geʿez root ʿry relating to harmony (cf. VanderKam’s translation of Jub. 43:14). Italics in citations from Jubilees have been added. 8 For the link between Jub. 46:1 and Lev 19:17a, see section E below. 9 The word ‫( רעך‬Lev 19:18b) is likewise understood as referring to a fellow Jew in early rabbinic works: cf. ʾAbot R. Nat. A 16; Sipra, Qedoshim 4; Tos. Sanh. 9:3. 10 Cf. the use of the same exegetical technique in other ancient exegeses of Lev 19:17–18, such as the Testaments of the XII Patriarchs (cf. T. Gad 6:1–3; T. Jos. 17:1–5) and Josephus’ retelling of the Joseph story (Ant. 2.124–67).

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This is, indeed, the prevalent sense found in Jubilees, the author employing it in order to indicate the specific way in which the injunctions in Lev 17:18– 19 should be properly fulfilled. Thus, apart from Jub. 46:1—cited above— all the allusions to this commandment are embedded within a familial context. While the seventeen incidences of “fraternal love” in Jubilees—virtually all of which appear in testamentary texts ( Jub. 7:20, 20:2, 35:20 [× 2], 22 [× 4], 24, 26, 36:4 [× 3], 8; cf. also 37:4)—can consequently be understood as constituting allusions to Lev 19:17–18, these texts do not exhaust the references to Lev 19:17–18 in Jubilees.11 Several fixed terms also relate to the fulfillment or violation of Lev 19:17–18. Thus, for example, the phrases “aiming at what is bad/good for one’s brother” (cf. Jub. 35:24 [× 2], 36:4, 8, 9 [× 2], 11, 37:4, 13, 18) and their parallels—“bad things/ peace in the heart” ( Jub. 37:13, 21; cf. Jub. 37:24, 43:14)—also pertain to the injunction “You shall not hate your kinsfolk in your heart” (Lev 19:17a).12 The place of Lev 19:17–18 in Jubilees therefore cannot be evaluated solely on the basis of the references to brotherly love but only becomes clear when the complete set of phrases pertaining to it is taken into account. A second correlated point concerns the warrant for a separate examination of the interpretation of Lev 19:17–18 in the book of Jubilees. While the Jubilean exegesis of this commandment shares hermeneutical elements and features with other Second Temple and later writings, such as the Damascus Document, the Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs, and Josephus’ Antiquities, in its overall presentation Jubilees exhibits a unique exegesis of this ordinance.13 In contrast to these texts, the Jubilean author only alludes to the clauses “You shall not hate your kinsfolk in your heart” and “Love your fellow as yourself.”14 He also interweaves clear allusions to this ordinance into the 11

Fifteen of the occurrences of fraternal love appear in testamentary texts. For the remaining two, see Jub. 37:23, 46:1. 12 For a detailed discussion of these phrases, see section C below. 13 For references to parallel exegetical features/traditions in contemporary and later writings, see especially sections C and D, wherein I discuss the fraternal love between Isaac’s and Jacob’s sons. 14 This treatment is unique to Jubilees. Some Qumran, apocryphal, and pseudepigraphical texts relate to other elements of Lev 19:17–18 (cf. 1QS 5:24–6:1; CD 6:21–7:3, 9:2–8; Sir 19:13–17; T. Sim. 4:4, 6; T. Gad 6:3–7) while others


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narratives concerning Noah’s, Abraham’s, and Isaac’s sons, a feature apparently unattested in other writings from the period in question.15 As I shall argue below, these hermeneutical maneuvers appear to facilitate the conveyance of the book’s unique message rather than merely representing a technical element. The attention to two specific aspects of Lev 19:17–18, the range of citations of and allusions to these verses within Jubilees, and the specific exegetical function(s) they serve therefore appear to justify an independent inquiry into the exegesis of Lev 19:17–18 in Jubilees. With these general observations in mind, I shall proceed to take a closer look at a number of specific passages. These are divided into sections pertaining to various family relations, namely, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob and their respective sons and the Israelites in general.

A. Brotherly Love between Noah’s Sons ( Jub. 7:15, 20, 26, 11:2) The first section of Noah’s testament indicates that: “He testified to his sons that they should do what is right” ( Jub. 7:20). The five instructions following (and explaining) this general statement contains the command “love one another” ( Jub. 7:20 [Lev 19:18b]). This text is immediately followed, however, by Noah’s rebuke of his sons for their wrongdoings (Jub. 7:26–33). These two sections thus stand in opposition, the first containing a number of directives, the second examples of their violation. The latter include transgression of the injunction to practice fraternal love: But now I am the first to see your actions— that you have not been conducting yourselves properly because you have begun to conduct yourselves in the way of destruction, to separate (wa-tətfālaṭu) from one another, to be jealous (wa-tətqānəʾu) of one another,

only deal with Lev 19:18b (cf. Tob 4:15; Let. Arist. 207). Cf. also Ant. 2.26 which, unlike Jubilees, also relates to Lev 19:18a. 15 As noted above (note 10), the ordinance “Love your fellow as yourself ” is interwoven into the context of the Joseph story in various ancient Jewish compositions. In addition to the references mentioned there, see also Mekh. Beshall. 1, lines 146–151.

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and not to be together (ḫ əbura) with one another, my sons ( Jub. 7:26)16 In the eyes of the author of Jubilees, “separating from one another,” “being jealous of one another,” and “not being together” all constitute violation of the commandment to “Love your fellow as yourself.” This exegetical trope may derive from the author’s association of various biblical verses on the basis of their common theme. The basis of the ideas of “separating” and “not being together” which are conjoined in Noah’s farewell to his sons most probably lies in Genesis 13, which states that, despite being “kinsmen (‫( ”)אנשים אחים‬Gen 13:8; cf. 14:14, 16), Abraham and Lot “could not remain together (‫ )לא יכלו לשבת יחדו‬. . . Thus they parted from each other (‫( ”)ויפרדו איש מעל אחיו‬Gen 13:11; italics added).17 The theme of fraternal jealousy—linked in Noah’s testament in Jubilees with the commandment “Love your fellow as yourself ”—also occurs in the biblical Joseph narrative (Gen 37:11). Like other Second Temple texts, Jubilees associates the latter story with Lev 19:17–18 in several places (cf. 42:25, 43:14).18 The interpretation of Lev 19:17–18 in terms of “separating,” “(not) being together,” and “being jealous” thus appears to derive from a biblical background. A closer look at the occurrences in Jubilees of the three phrases 16

For the structure and literary features attributed to Jub. 7:20–33 here, see J. T. A. G. M. van Ruiten, Primaeval History Interpreted: The Rewriting of Genesis 1–11 in the Book of Jubilees (Leiden: Brill, 2000), 293–304. The contradictory relation between Jub. 7:20 and 7:26 has also been noted by Lambert (“Last Testaments,” 89); cf. M. Segal, The Book of Jubilees: Rewritten Bible, Redaction, Ideology and Theology (Leiden: Brill, 2007), 149–50. 17 Cf. also the injunction “let them live with you (‫( ”)וחי אחיך עמך‬NRSV) in Lev 25:36 (cf. also Lev 25:35), which may also have facilitated the Jubilean author’s introduction of the notion of “being together/not separating” into the context of fraternal love. Several rabbinic sources link Lev 25:36 with Lev 19:17–18, incorporating the injunction “let them live with you” (Lev 25:36) into a list of five related ordinances deriving from Lev 19:17–18, the other four being: “you shall not hate your kinsman in your heart,” “you shall not take vengeance,” “you shall not bear a grudge,” and “love your fellow as yourself ”; see Sipre, Shoftim 187; m. Ned. 9:4; ʾAbot R. Nat. A 26:4. 18 Cf. T. Sim. 4:4–7; T. Zeb. 8:4–5; T. Gad 4:2–3; Josephus, Ant. 2.26, 161; Mekh. Beshall. 1. See also the discussion of the rewritten Joseph story in section D below.


179

identified above may clarify the specific meaning they carry in Noah’s testament. Significantly, the majority of the incidences do not derive from the biblical text but constitute additions inserted into the biblical material.19 Separation: expressed by the Geʿez root flṭ, this idea may embody a moral perspective. Abraham separates from Terah “in order not to worship idols with him” ( Jub. 11:16), while Jacob is ordered to “separate . . . from the gentiles” ( Jub. 22:16; cf. Jub. 2:19 [Lev 20:24, 26]).20 In Noah’s final testament, however, this root probably represents a physical removal from family relatives, in similar fashion to its occurrences in the narratives concerning Ham’s separation from Noah ( Jub. 7:13), Lot’s from Abraham ( Jub. 13:17–18; 17:3 [Gen 13:11, 14]), and the remark that Jacob “has not separated from us [Rebecca and Isaac] … He has continually been living with us at home (all the while) honoring us” ( Jub. 35:12).21 Jubilees indeed consistently presents geographical separation from one’s family— an essentially non-moral act—as a negative deed indicative of disharmony within the family. Being/doing together (ḫ əbura): this second aspect of separation occurs in both Noah’s and Isaac’s final testaments as part of the Jubilean author’s exegesis of Lev 19:17–18. Isaac commands his offspring: “Practice brotherly love among yourselves, my sons, like a man who loves himself, with each one aiming at doing what is good for his brother and at doing things together on the earth” ( Jub. 36:4; cf. Jub. 7:20, 26 cited above). Jubilees also contains incidents in which brothers are said to be “doing things together” (20:12, 22:3, 36:17), alongside descriptions of parents and children “doing things together” (Jub. 12:31, 18:5 [Gen 22:6], 19:30). Jubilees 36:1—“they ate and drank together in front of him. He was happy because there was

19

In those occurrences in which a biblical verse is quoted/alluded to, the latter is indicated in parenthesis following the reference from Jubilees. 20 Jacob’s separation from the Gentiles also possesses a physical aspect: “Now, my son Jacob . . . Separate from the nations, and do not eat with them . . . and do not become their companion” ( Jub. 22:6). Virtually all the incidences listed above occur in the context of parent-child relations. The relations between Abraham and Lot described in Jub. 13 possibly constitute an exception to this rule, although Jubilees depicts Lot as Abraham’s adopted son (see Jub. 12:30). 21 Cf. the similar meaning expressed by the root ḫ dg in Jub. 27:6 [× 2], 29:18, 35:10, 38:8.

180


harmony between them”—indicates that these accounts denote unity within the family.22 Being jealous of one other ( Jub. 7:26): when the object of the Geʿez root qnʾ is a human being, the verb almost always indicates family rivalry in Jubilees.23 Thus, for example, the Jubilean author portrays Japheth as being jealous of Ham ( Jub. 7:15), Sarah as jealous of Ishmael ( Jub. 17:4), and Laban’s sons as jealous of Jacob ( Jub. 28:30; cf. also Jub. 28:16 [Gen 30:1], 28:20). This brief survey indicates that the author of Jubilees formulates the violation of the injunction to “Love your fellow as yourself ” in Jub. 7:26 via the use of phrases that also occur in other narratives in Jubilees. In these—as in Jub. 7:26—the expressions consistently carry a negative valence, signifying disharmony in the family.24 The terminology employed in the exegesis of Lev 19:18b thus suggests that the latter text is linked to Jubilees’ larger scheme of familial relations.25 Noah’s admonition of his sons in Jub. 7:26 reflects the latter’s transgression of the injunction to “Love your fellow as yourself.” Their violation of the commandment is attested in other passages in Jubilees, such as Jub. 7:15, which records that Japheth “was jealous of his brother.” The narrative concerning Noah’s sons also reveals that brothers who “separate/are not together” and “are jealous of one another” are liable to contravene the ordinance to “Love your fellow as yourself ” in extreme form: “During this jubilee Noah’s children began to fight one another, to take captives, and to kill one another” ( Jub. 11:2).26 22

Cf. B. Halpern-Amaru, “Joy as Piety in the ‘Book of Jubilees,’ ” JJS 56 (2005): 185–205, esp. 203–4; and Doran’s comment on Jub. 45:5: “The eating together symbolizes family and clan unity” (Doran, “The Non-Dating of Jubilees,” 6). 23 The single exception is the reference to the Philistines’ jealousy of Isaac ( Jub. 24:15 [Gen 26:14]). 24 The consistency in meaning of the terms “separating/not being together” and “being jealous” throughout Jubilees, together with the fact that the majority of incidences do not derive from a specific biblical verse, suggests that their appearance within the different rewritten stories is due to the work of a single author (or redactor). 25 For fraternal relations in Jubilees vis-à-vis the ideal familial harmony, see J. C. Endres, Biblical Interpretation in the Book of Jubilees (Washington, B.C.: Catholic Biblical Association of America, 1987), 182, 188. 26 Cf. also the relations between Jacob and Esau, which culminate in fraternal war ( Jub. 37–38). The idea that jealousy amongst brothers leads to bloodshed is implied in the biblical Joseph narrative (Gen 37:11, 18), also being attested in the


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B. Brotherly Love between Abraham’s Sons ( Jub. 20:2, 12, 22:3) In his final testament, Abraham orders his sons “that they should love one another; that they should be like this in every war so that they could go against each one (who was) against them” ( Jub. 20:2). This instruction contains a clear allusion to Lev 19:18b.27 The way in which a person is to “Love your fellow as yourself ” is represented here as “being an ally”—i.e., by seeking peaceful relations with one’s kinsmen while standing together against a common enemy.28 A similar idea possibly appears in Jub. 46:1, reworking of this story in the Testaments of the XII Patriarchs (T. Sim. 2–3; T. Dan 1–2). The principle of “gradation” or “escalation” found in Lev 19:17–18 is common to both Jubilees and rabbinic literature, as evidenced, for example, by a midrash in Sipre: “If one has violated the rule, ‘You will love your fellow as yourself ’ (Lev 19:18), in the end that person will violate the rule, ‘You shall not take vengeance nor bear a grudge’ (Lev 19:18), ‘You shall not hate your brother’ (Lev 19:17), and ‘That your brother may live with you’ (Lev 25:36), ending up shedding blood” (Shoftim 187) (J. Neusner, Sifre to Deuteronomy: An Analytical Translation [Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1987], 2:68). 27 Albeck, Das Buch der Jubiläen und die Halacha, 45–46; Lambert, “Last Testaments,” 88–89; G. W. E. Nickelsburg and M. E. Stone, “Ideals of Piety,” in Faith and Piety in Early Judaism: Texts and Documents (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1983), 89–115, esp. 96–98. 28 Lambert, “Last Testaments,” 88–90. Contra Lambert, however, Jub. 20:2 does not suggest that Abraham’s sons should hate their enemies; see Kugel’s distinction between Matt 5:43 and Jub. 20:2 (Traditions of the Bible, 757–78). “Love” in the sense of “alliance” also appears in Jub. 37:15: “The people of Hebron sent word to him: ‘Your brother has just now come against you to fight you with 4000 men who have swords buckled on and are carrying shields and weapons.’ They told him because they loved Jacob more than Esau, since Jacob was a more generous and kind man than Esau.” This signification has its roots in the Hebrew Bible, wherein love may signify loyalty and/or relations between allies (cf. 2 Sam 19:7; 1 Kgs 5:15; Lam 1:2; cf. also the paired terms in CD 3:3–4: ‫ויכתבו אוהבים לאל‬ ‫ ;)ובעלי ברית לעולם‬see W. L. Moran, “The Ancient Near Eastern Background of the Love of God in Deuteronomy,” CBQ 25 (1963): 77–87; M. Weinfeld, “‫הברית‬ ‫והחסד‬: The Terms and the Shifts in their Development in Israel and the Ancient World,” Lešonenu 36 (1972): 85–105 [Hebrew]; idem, “Kinship and Covenant in Ancient Israel,” in From Epic to Canon: History and Literature in Ancient Israel (ed. F. M. Cross; Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1998), 3–21; M. Malul, Knowledge, Control and Sex: Studies in Biblical Thought, Culture and Worldview (Tel Aviv-Jaffa: Archaeological Center Publication, 2000), esp. 163, n. 46.

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where “loving each other” is associated with “helping each other,” perhaps indicating assistance in time of war.29 According to Jubilees, in contrast to Noah’s sons, Abraham’s offspring do not violate the ordinance to “Love your fellow as yourself,” no strife of any kind manifesting itself between them. Moreover, the book characterizes all Abraham’s sons as “doing/acting together”: Ishmael and Keturah’s sons “go together” to their land ( Jub. 20:12), while Isaac and Ishmael “come together” to celebrate Shavuot with Abraham ( Jub. 22:3).30

C. Brotherly Love between Isaac’s Sons (Jub. 35:1–38:14) The majority of the incidences of brotherly love in Jubilees occur in the context of the relations between Jacob and Esau.31 In fact, brotherly love/ hatred constitutes the thematic core of Jub. 35:1–38:14. These chapters, 29

For a discussion of Jub. 46:1, see section E below. By stating that “Sarah saw Ishmael playing and dancing” and connecting this act with “Abraham being extremely happy” ( Jub. 17:4 [Gen 21:9]), Jubilees emphasizes Ishmael’s becoming conduct; see B. Halpern-Amaru, “The Portrait of Sarah in Jubilees,” Jewish Studies in a New Europe: Proceedings of the Fifth Congress of Jewish Studies in Copenhagen 1994 Under the Auspices of the European Association for Jewish Studies (ed. U. Haxen, H. Trautner-Kromann, and K. L. Goldschmidt Salamon; Copenhagen: Rietzel, 1998), 336–48, esp. 346–47. This exegesis flies in the face of other ancient Jewish interpretations, some of which regard Ishmael’s “playing” as an attempt to harm Isaac: cf. Gen. Rab. 53:11. Cf. also Tg. Ps.-J. Gen 21:10 and Josephus, Ant. 1:215, wherein Sarah is portrayed as being worried that Ishmael might hurt Isaac after Abraham’s death. The description of Ishmael in Jubilees as practicing brotherly love stands in contrast to the depiction of Esau (see section C below), comprising but one aspect of Ishmael’s positive portrayal in Jubilees; see D. Mendels, The Land of Israel as a Political Concept in Hasmonean Literature (Tübingen: Mohr, 1987), 145–54; C. Werman, “The Attitude Toward Gentiles in the Book of Jubilees and Qumran Literature Compared with Early Tanaaic Halakha and Contemporary Pseudepigrapha” (Ph.D. diss., Hebrew University of Jerusalem, 1995), 124–41 [Hebrew]. 31 Cf. Jub. 35:20 [× 2], 22 [× 4], 24, 26, 36:4 [× 3], 8, 37:4, 23. Two incidences of brotherly love in this literary unit have survived in the Hebrew fragments of Jub. 35:20; see 4Q223–224 2 ii 17–18 ( Jub. 35:20): ‫וכי אתה וי[עקוב אוהבין זה] את‬ ‫ ;זה‬and 4Q223–224 2 ii 21–22: ‫ ;ואת יעקוב אחי אנכי[ אוהב מ]כול בשר‬see DJD 13:95–140. 30


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which expand the biblical story, begin with the end of Rebecca’s life, including her conversation with Isaac regarding the wicked Esau who is destined to attempt to kill the righteous Jacob ( Jub. 35:9–17), continue with her final testament to Esau and Jacob ( Jub. 35:18–27), and conclude with Isaac’s final testament to his sons ( Jub. 36:1–19). Following the deaths of Isaac and Rebecca, the unit culminates with Esau’s declaration of war against his brother and his death at the hands of Jacob ( Jub. 37:1–38:14). All these texts include a reworking of Lev 19:17–18.32 (1) Rebecca’s Final Testament ( Jub. 35:1–27) Rebecca orders Esau: I ask of you . . . that you and Jacob love one another, and that the one not aim at what is bad for his brother but only at loving one another. Then you will be prosperous, my sons, and be honored on the earth. Your enemy will not be happy over you. You will become a blessing and an object of kindness in the view of all who love you. ( Jub. 35:20) Several elements are worthy of note here. Firstly, as in Noah’s and Abraham’s testaments discussed above, Rebecca’s testament alludes directly to the commandment to “Love your fellow as yourself ”: “you and Jacob love one another,” “but only at loving one another.” The broader literary context reveals that this instruction was intended to prevent Esau from killing his brother ( Jub. 35:1–19).33 It evidently failed in its goal, however, since in the wake of his parents’ death, Esau attacks Jacob with four thousand armed men ( Jub. 37). The details given in the rewritten story demonstrate that, in Rebecca’s testament, the Jubilean author represents Lev 19:18b in

32

The story of the war between Jacob and Esau (and their sons) also appears in abbreviated form in T. Jud. 9. This narrative, however, contains no allusion to Lev 19:17–18, its broader literary context also differing from that of Jubilees. While in Jubilees, the pericope culminates in a long literary unit dealing with fraternal love/hatred ( Jub. 35:1–38:14), in the Testament of Judah the reference constitutes one of a number of accounts of battle in which Judah is portrayed as a distinguished warrior (see T. Jud. 2–7). This common tradition thus evidently served different authors in conveying divergent messages. 33 This was also Isaac’s objective in commanding his sons to love one another ( Jub. 35:9–16, 36:1–11); see below.

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terms of “peaceful co-existence”—a similar exegesis to that found in Noah’s and Abraham’s farewells. The thesis propounded here—namely, that the Jubilean author interprets brotherly love in terms of “living in peace”—is also supported by the close link between these two concepts, indicated by their juxtaposition in other passages belonging to the same literary unit. The latter include Esau’s observation regarding his father’s final testament: “Now our father has made us—me and him—swear . . . that we will continue in (a state of ) mutual love and peace, each with his brother” ( Jub. 37:4) and his speech to Jacob in Jub. 37:23: “If the raven turns white like the Raza-bird, then know that I love you and will make peace with you.” The terms “to be a brother/fraternity” are also related to those of “love” and “peace” in these chapters, serving as a further indication of the fulfillment of Lev 19:18b ( Jub. 37:19, 20 [× 2]). Their opposite phrases, signifying the violation of the same injunction, are “to hate/to be an enemy” ( Jub. 35:9, 20, 37:18, 19), “to fight/make war” ( Jub. 37:6, 7, 15), and “to kill” ( Jub. 35:9, 37:5, 18, 24).34 In Rebecca’s final testament, the two allusions to the commandment to “Love your fellow as yourself ” sandwich a second instruction: “that the one not aim at what is bad for his brother” ( Jub. 35:20). The phrase “to aim at what is bad/good for one’s brother” occurs frequently in Jub. 35:1– 38:14, including Isaac’s final testament ( Jub. 35:24, 36:4, 8–11, 37:4, 13, 18).35 In all its incidences, it is conjoined with the ordinance to practice brotherly love. While “aiming at what is bad for one’s brother” clearly indicates malicious intent, this notion in Jubilees appears to possess a specific

34

Cf. the depiction of Esau in Jub. 19:14: “He learned (the art of ) warfare.” For sibling rivalry and fratricide as a violation of the injunction to “Love your fellow as yourself,” see the depiction of the relations between Noah’s sons in Jub. 11:2, discussed above in section A. 35 The idea of “aiming at” is expressed in Jubilees by the verbs ḫ aśaśa/ʾaḫ śaśa/ taḫ āśaśa (cf. 35:24, 36:9, 37:4, 13, 18) and faqada (cf. 35:9, 36:8, 11). The parallel Hebrew term to “aim at what is bad” is preserved in 4Q223–224 2 ii 51–52 ( Jub. 36:9): [‫( כול ה[מבקש ר]עה [לרעהו ביד]ו יפול ויכרת מארץ[ הח]יים‬DJD 13:107). It remains uncertain, however, whether the phrase ‫ בקש רעה‬is the only one which expresses this idea in the Hebrew original of Jubilees, the expression ‫ה‬/‫( דרש רע‬and/or its antonym, ‫טובה‬/‫ )דרש שלום‬also possibly occurring. Cf. CD 6:21–7:1, wherein the phrase ‫ לדרוש איש את שלום אחיהו‬appears as part of an interpretation of Lev 19:17–18. See also the discussion in section D below.


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connotation, namely the intent to murder. Thus, Esau, the son who ultimately “aimed at what was bad for his brother” ( Jub. 37–38), is depicted as “aiming to kill his brother” ( Jub. 35:9, 16, 37:18, 24; cf. Gen 27:41– 42). Moreover, “aiming at what is bad for one’s brother” appears in the context of punishment carried out “measure for measure”: the brother who aims at what is bad for his sibling will fall into the hands of a brother ( Jub. 36:9; cf. Jub. 37:24).36 Synonymous phrases to that of “aiming at what is bad for” include entertaining “bad things (ʾəkay) in the heart” ( Jub. 37:13) and being “adversely inclined (ʾaʾkaya) from [the] heart” ( Jub. 37:24).37 These expressions occur in the same literary unit and depict Esau’s evil intent toward Jacob. On the basis of these texts, it appears that “aiming at what is bad for one’s brother” and its synonymous phrases act as exegetical signifiers of the clause in Lev 19:17a: “You shall not hate your kinsfolk (‫ )אח‬in your heart.” The author of Jubilees thus evidences an understanding of “brotherly hatred in the heart” as “malicious intent.” The basis for such an exegesis lies in the thematic affinity between Lev 19:17a and two biblical stories concerning fraternal hatred: the narrative regarding Jacob/Esau and the story of Joseph and his brothers, both of which link brotherly hatred with malicious intent. Esau’s hatred of his brother is described as follows: “Now Esau hated (‫ )וישטם‬Jacob because of the blessing with which his father had blessed him, and Esau said to himself (‫)בלבו‬, ‘The days of mourning for my father are approaching; then I will kill my brother Jacob’” (Gen 27:41 [NRSV]).38 Joseph’s brothers likewise “hated him (‫( ”)וישנאו אתו‬Gen 37:4; cf. 37:5, 8) and “conspired to kill him” (Gen 37:18), Joseph himself recognizing their malicious intent: “you intended me harm (‫”)ואתם חשבתם עלי רעה‬ (Gen 50:20).

36

For a meaning closely related to “aiming at what is bad/to kill,” see also the pairing, “Every day they aim at what is bad for one another and at each one killing his enemy and opponent” (Jub. 37:18). 37 Cf. 4Q221 5 3 (Jub. 37:13): [‫( הרעות אשר הי]ו נחבאות בלבו‬DJD 13:75–76). The antithetical terms to these are: “peace in the heart” ( Jub. 37:21) and “the hearts of all of them were in harmony [literally: the same] one with the other for good” ( Jub. 43:14; cf. 46:1). 38 Gen 27:41 is cited in Jub. 26:35, where Esau is portrayed as merely threatening rather than hating his brother, however. For the Jubilean attribution of concrete aspects to the “hatred” indicated in Lev 19:17a, see below.

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A link between brotherly hatred and malicious intent can also be discerned in Zech 7:10, 8:17, both of which allude to the ordinance “You shall not hate your kinsfolk in your heart” (Lev 19:17a).39 Zechariah does not quote the injunction directly, however, merely paraphrasing it: “Do not devise evil in your hearts against one another (‫ורעת איש אחיו אל תחשבו‬ ‫( ”)בלבבכם‬Zech 7:10 [NRSV]; cf. Zech 8:17).40 While the author of Jubilees adopts Zechariah’s conceptual idea in interpreting the commandment “You shall not hate your kinsfolk in your heart” as “You shall not aim at what is bad for your brother,” he attributes a different sense to the ordinance. Thus, while Zechariah does not specify the precise nature of the malicious intent, the Jubilean author expressly identifies it as the intent to murder.41 Likewise, whereas Zech 7:10—as Lev 19:17a—regards the act as being performed “in the heart,” according to Jubilees “aiming at what is bad for one’s brother” signifies both what happens “within the heart” and 39

The affinity between Zech 7:10, 8:17 and Lev 19:17a was already noted by Radak in his commentary on Zech 7:10. See also Mitchell’s observation regarding Lev 19:17–18 as underlying Zech 7:10, 8:17 and Mathys’ note of the associations between Lev 19:17 and Zech 7:10: H. G. Mitchell, A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on Haggai, Zechariah, Malachi and Jonah (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1912), 201; H. P. Mathys, Liebe deinen Nächsten wie dich selbst (Göttingen: Universitätsverlag Freiburg Schweiz, 1986), 157–59. Stead’s suggestion that Zech 7:10 echoes Jer 18:12 is unconvincing in light of the different contexts of the two passages: M. R. Stead, The Intertextuality of Zechariah 1–8 (New York: T&T Clark, 2009), 232, n. 43. 40 Note that the same phrase—‫—חשב רעה‬describes the malicious intentions directed towards Joseph in Gen 50:20 (cited above). The similarity of language and theme suggest that the author of Zechariah himself may have interpreted Lev 19:17a in light of the story of Joseph and his brothers—possibly also having in mind such a verse depicting “evil thoughts” as occurring in the heart as Ezek 38:10 (cf. also Gen 6:5; Ps 140:3). 41 While the phrase ‫ חשב רעה‬may denote an intent to murder in the Hebrew Bible (see Gen 50:20; Ps 35:4), it also signifies other forms of evil intentions; see Ezek 38:10; Ps 41:8. The specific connection between hatred and intent to murder occurring in Jubilees is, of course, implied in the Jacob and Esau narrative (Gen 27:41) and the Joseph story (Gen 37). It is possible, however, that Deut 19:11—“If someone at enmity with another (‫ )וכי יהיה איש שנא לרעהו‬lies in wait and attacks and takes the life of that person” (NRSV)—also stands in the background of the Jubilean association between hatred and intent to murder. For the link between Deut 19:11 and Lev 19:17–18, see Sipre, Shoftim 187.


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the concrete and physical consequences.42 A similar affinity to that in Jubilees between “You shall not hate your kinsman in your heart” and intent to murder is attested in the Testament of Gad: “very often I wanted to kill him [my brother Joseph], because I hated him in my soul” (T. Gad 2:1; cf. 2:2–4:6, 6:2, 5).43 Rebecca’s testament to Esau thus contains an exegesis of both parts of Lev 19:17–18. The ordinance “You shall not hate your kinsfolk in your heart” (Lev 19:17a) is understood as referring to malicious intent, specifically the intention to murder, while the injunction to “Love your fellow as yourself ” is interpreted as the pursuit of peaceful coexistence. According to Flusser, other verses in the same literary unit also allude to a further section of Lev 19:18, namely, the statement: “I am the Lord” (Lev 19:18c).44 Rebecca’s final testament contains several references to brotherly love sworn on oath. On her death bed, Rebecca declares to Isaac: “ ‘I am making one request of you: make Esau swear that he will not harm Jacob and not pursue him in hatred’ ” ( Jub. 35:9), Isaac’s reply echoing his wife’s plea that their sons should swear to obey under oath ( Jub. 35:15). An incidence of fraternal love sworn on oath also occurs in Esau’s words to Rebecca ( Jub. 35:24), an idea further developed in Isaac’s final testament ( Jub. 36:7–8; cf. 37:4, 13, 17–18).45 The association between “Love your fellow as yourself ” and swearing an oath is also attested in ʾAbot de Rabbi Nathan (A 16; B 26), wherein it probably derives from the original sequence in Lev 19:18. The commandment to “Love your fellow as yourself ” being

42

Cf. “Jacob saw that he [Esau] was adversely inclined toward him from his heart and his entire self so that he could kill him” ( Jub. 37:24), a description neither of Jacob’s intuition nor of his psychological assessment of Esau. Jacob physically observed Esau leading four thousand armed men toward him ( Jub. 37:14–17), the latter having already declared that “his face was for war” ( Jub. 37:18–23). In other places, however, the intentions lie within Esau’s heart, Rebecca, Isaac—and probably also Jacob—knowing them either due to a revelation ( Jub. 27:1) or because of their familiarity with Esau’s character ( Jub. 35:9, 15, 26). 43 For this translation, see H. W. Hollander and M. de Jonge, The Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs: A Commentary (Leiden: Brill, 1985), 321. 44 D. Flusser, “A New Sensitivity in Judaism and the Christian Message,” in Judaism and the Origin of Christianity (Jerusalem: Magnes, 1988), 469–89, esp. 475–76. 45 For Isaac’s final testament, see below.

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immediately followed by the words “I am the Lord,” the latter is understood as referring to an oath.46 While Flusser argues that a similar interpretation of “Love your fellow as yourself ” is reflected in Jubilees,47 other parental instructions requiring acceptance by oath are also attested in the book ( Jub. 9:14, 10:30–32, 25:9, 36:7).48 In the context of Rebecca’s and Isaac’s final testaments in Jubilees, therefore, the association between the injunction to “Love your fellow as yourself ” and swearing an oath does not necessarily point to an understanding of “I am the Lord” (Lev 19:18c) as an oath. It is noteworthy that in Rebecca’s testament the allusions to Lev 19:17– 18 are linked to the promise of future blessing: “‘Then you will be prosperous, my sons, and be honored on the earth. Your enemy will not be happy over you. You will become a blessing and an object of kindness in the view of all who love you’” ( Jub. 35:20; cf. Jub. 46:1). This testament thus places Lev 19:17–18 within a covenantal framework, as illustrated in other chapters of the Pentateuch (cf. Lev 26; Deut 28, 30) describing the blessings/ curses which will befall the Israelites in consequence of their fulfillment/ violation of the law. Notably, this biblical pattern is reworked in various chapters of Jubilees.49 The invoking of a covenantal notion in the context of Rebecca’s testament, however, portrays Jacob as a legitimate recipient of the blessing in fulfilling the injunction “Love your fellow as yourself.”50 46

Flusser, “A New Sensitivity,” 476; R. Neudecker, “‘And You Shall Love Your Neighbor as Yourself—I am the Lord’ (Lev 19:18) in Jewish Interpretation,” Bib 73 (1992): 496–517, esp. 507. 47 Flusser, “A New Sensitivity.” 48 Flusser himself notes that the language of “swearing an oath” in Jub. 36:7 originates in Deut 6:13 and refers not only to the injunction “Love your fellow as yourself ” but also to the worship of God (ibid.). For biblical examples of fulfilling parental instructions under oath, see Gen 47:29–31 (cf. Gen 50:25; Exod 13:19). Significantly, the context in which the latter verses occur is that of the patriarchs’ final testaments. 49 See especially Jub. 1. The covenantal framework also appears in Noah’s and Abraham’s testaments, although not linked directly therein to the observance of Lev 19:17–18; see Jub. 7:27–29, 20:6–10, 21:21–24, 22:20–22. For a discussion of the covenantal formulae in Abraham’s final testament in Jubilees, see K. Baltzer, “The Covenant Formulary as a ‘Testament,” in The Covenant Formulary in Old Testament, Jewish, and Early Christian Writings (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1971), 137–63. For the covenantal notion in Isaac’s final testament, see below. 50 This fact correlates with Jubilees’ assertion that Abraham knew that through


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2) Isaac’s Final Testament to Jacob and Esau ( Jub. 36:1–19) Isaac instructs his sons: Practice brotherly love among yourselves, my sons, like a man who loves himself, with each one aiming at doing what is good for his brother and at doing things together on the earth. May they love one another as themselves. ( Jub. 36:4) Like the other testamentary texts discussed here, Isaac’s final testament also alludes to Lev 19:18b: “Practice brotherly love among yourselves, my sons, like a man who loves himself . . . May they love one another as themselves.” Although the second command forms a separate sentence, it is closely related to the preceding phrase: “doing things together on the earth.” The latter expression also appears in Noah’s final testament ( Jub. 7:26) in relation to the fulfillment of Lev 19:18b. The occurrence of this term in Isaac’s testament (see also Jub. 36:17), as well as the literary context— wherein Isaac’s farewell speech is intended to prevent Esau from killing Jacob ( Jub. 35:9, 15)—indicates once again the Jubilean author’s interpretation of the injunction to “Love your fellow as yourself ” as “living together in peace.” Unique to Isaac’s final testament, however, is the citation of the word ‫“( כמוך‬as yourself ”) from Lev 19:18b. According to Isaac’s statement, the command to “Love your fellow as yourself ” signifies “Love him as you love yourself,” the term ‫ כמוך‬being exegeted as an adverb modifying the verb ‫ואהבת‬.51 An adverbial interpretation of ‫ כמוך‬occurs also in the interpretation of Lev 19:18 in the Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs.52 In similar fashion to the literary construction of Rebecca’s final testament ( Jub. 35:20), the two allusions to “Love your fellow as yourself ” in Isaac’s testament sandwich an instruction regarding aims/goals: “with each Jacob he “would have a reputation and descendants” due to Jacob’s deeds which contrast with Esau’s evil ones ( Jub. 19:16–19; cf. also 15:30, 35:13–15). As the chosen son, the Jubilean Jacob is the legitimate recipient of a number of parental blessings bestowed prior to his stealing of the birthright (cf. Jub. 19:26–31, 22:10–16, 23–30, 25:13–23). For a study of the figures of Jacob and Esau in Jubilees, see Endres, Biblical Interpretation, 18–182; Werman, “The Attitude Toward Gentiles,” 177–99. 51 J. Milgrom, Leviticus 17–22: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (New York: Doubleday, 2000), 1655. 52 Cf. T. Iss. 6:6; T. Dan 6:3; T. Gad 6:1.

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one aiming at doing what is good for his brother.” As indicated above, the latter directive constitutes an interpretation of “You shall not hate your kinsman in your heart” (Lev 19:17a). Significantly, the reference to Lev 19:17–18 in relation to fraternal love in Isaac’s testament ( Jub. 36:4) is juxtaposed with an order regarding that which may not be loved, namely, foreign idols: “Regarding the matter of idols, I am instructing you to reject them, to be an enemy of them, and not to love them” ( Jub. 36:5).53 The implicit inference here is that God should be the object of a person’s love.54 In Isaac’s testament, therefore, two different commandments—one indicating the proper relations to be conducted amongst the Israelites (Lev 19:17–18), the other regulating their relationship with God—are interconnected via the use of the term “love.”55 A similar juxtaposition between inter-Israelite relations and the right relations they should cultivate with God occurs later in Isaac’s testament: “Now I will make you swear with the great oath . . . that you will continue to fear and worship him, as each loves his brother kindly and properly” ( Jub. 36:7–8). As Flusser has pointed out, this text may constitute early evidence for the link between Lev 19:18 (‫ )ואהבת לרעך כמוך‬and Deut 6:5 (‫)ואהבת את ה' אלהיך‬, an association attested elsewhere in other ancient sources.56 Like Rebecca’s, Isaac’s final testament also frames Lev 19:17–18 in covenantal terms: “One is not to desire what is bad for his brother now and forever . . . so that you may be prosperous in everything that you do and not be destroyed” (Jub. 36:8; cf. 36:3, 6). In distinction to Rebecca’s final testament, however, Isaac’s highlights the outcome of a violation of the injunction, namely, receiving a curse: “be aware that from now on anyone who aims at what is bad for his brother will fall into his control and will be uprooted from the land of the living, while his descendants will be destroyed from beneath the sky. On the day of turmoil and curse, of anger and wrath—with a

53

The wickedness of human beings “loving” idols is portrayed in 1 Kgs 11:2 and Jer 8:2. 54 Cf. Deut 6:5, 11:1, 30:20, and the reworking of these verses in Abraham’s final testament ( Jub. 20:7). 55 See K. Berger, Das Buch der Jubiläen (Gütersloh: Mohn, 1981), 501. 56 Cf. T. Iss. 7:6; T. Dan 5:3; T. Ben. 3:3; m. ʾAbot 6:1, 6; Matt 22:36–40; Mark 12:28–31; Luke 10:25–28; Did. 3:1–2; Flusser, “A New Sensitivity,” 479, n. 15.


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blazing fire that devours—he will burn his land, his city, and everything that belongs to him just as he burned Sodom. He will be erased from the disciplinary book of mankind. He will not be entered in the book of life but in the one that will be destroyed. He will pass over to an eternal curse so that their punishment may always be renewed with denunciation and curse, with anger, pain, and wrath, and with blows and eternal sickness. I am reporting and testifying to you, my sons, in accord with the punishment which will come on the man who wishes to do what is harmful to his brother.” ( Jub. 36:9–11) Isaac’s malediction is ostensibly general and directed against anyone who violates Lev 19:17–18. Since Isaac knew considerably earlier than his farewell speech that Esau would try to kill Jacob ( Jub. 35:15), however, the curse is in fact primarily addressed to Esau.57 Hence, when Jacob eventually slays Esau ( Jub. 38:1–2), the act does not constitute a violation of Lev 19:18 but the fulfillment of the judgment Isaac predicted would fall upon him ( Jub. 35:16, 37:17, 24).58 Weaving Lev 19:17–18 into the story of Jacob and Esau consequently serves the Jubilean author as a means of presenting the brothers in sharp contrast: the righteous Jacob who obeys the law versus the wicked Esau who violates it.59 57

Cf. the curse attributed to Esau in the Jubilean account of Jacob’s stealing of the birthright: “You will live by your sword and will serve your brother. May it be that, if you become great and remove his yoke from your neck, then you will commit an offence fully worthy of death and your descendants will be eradicated from beneath the sky” (Jub. 26:34) and Isaac’s curse against the Philistines in Jub. 24:28–33; see M. Kister, “Biblical Phrases and Hidden Biblical Interpretations and Pesharim,” in The Dead Sea Scrolls: Forty Years of Research (ed. D. Dimant and U. Rappaport; Leiden: Brill, 1992), 27–39, esp. 28–29; Werman, “The Attitude Toward Gentiles,” 151–58. Although all of Isaac’s imprecations carry unique features, each borrows from Jeremiah’s oracles against foreign nations (esp. Jer 47, 49), sharing specific terms such as the “day of anger and wrath (ʿəlata maʿat wa-qwəṭtə̣ ʿā)” and “eternal curse (margam za-laʿālam).” 58 Cf. VanderKam: “Esau . . . received severe and richly deserved divine retribution when he and his sons were slain by Jacob and his descendants” (Textual and Historical Studies, 230). Jubilees 38:11–12 represents Jacob as seeking peace when, his sons having defeated Esau’s at the conclusion of the war between them, he instructs his offspring to make peace with Esau’s progeny. 59 See Endres, Biblical Interpretation, 182. Esau and Jacob are also represented as antithetical figures in Jubilees in other forms; see Jub. 19:14, 25:1–4, 29:14–20,

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This unique reworking of the narrative also contains a further layer, however. Jacob and Esau being representative of Israel and Edom respectively,60 the story further conveys a message regarding Israel and the Gentiles and the relations between them. Because the Israelites observe the injunction to “Love your fellow as yourself ” and are consequently blessed while the wicked Edom violates it and is thus cursed,61 mutual “brotherly love” between the two peoples is unattainable.62

D. Brotherly Love between Jacob’s Sons Although brotherly love is not explicitly mentioned in the reworked Joseph stories in Jubilees, a closer examination of the narrative reveals that this theme—and specifically the fulfillment of Lev 19:17–18—is central to the narrative. The author of Jubilees expands the biblical story, providing an explanation for the presence of the silver cup in Benjamin’s baggage (cf. Gen 44:1–2): Joseph conceived of a plan by which he would know their [his brothers] thoughts—whether there were peaceful thoughts between them. He said to the man who was in charge of his house: “. . . put the cup with 35:10–12, 36:19–20; Endres, Biblical Interpretation, 18–182; Werman, “The Attitude Toward Gentiles,” 177–99. 60 Werman has demonstrated that Esau does not necessarily specifically represent Edom but in fact stands for the Gentiles in general (“The Attitude Toward Gentiles,” 197–98). 61 Although the Hebrew Bible depicts Israel and Edom as brothers, while the Israelites are commanded, “You shall not abhor an Edomite, for he is your kinsman (‫( ”)אחיך‬Deut 23:8; cf. Lev 19:17a), the Edomites do not appear to have exhibited a corresponding attitude towards Israel; see Num 20:14–21; Obad 10. 62 Doran, “The Non-Dating of Jubilees,” 5–7; Werman, “The Attitude Toward Gentiles,” 195, 198. As these scholars have observed, the relations between Israel and Edom as represented by the Jacob-Esau story stand in contrast to the Israelites’ inter-relations, as emphasized in Jubilees’ retelling of the Joseph story and the commencement of the Exodus story ( Jub. 46:1); see also Berger, Das Buch der Jubiläen, 280, n. 7; Endres, Biblical Interpretation, 182–83; B. Halpern-Amaru, “Burying the Fathers: Exegetical Strategies and Source Traditions in Jubilees 46,” in Reworking the Bible: Apocryphal and Related Texts at Qumran (ed. E. G. Chazon, D. Dimant, and R. A. Clements; Leiden: Brill, 2005), 135–52, esp. 138.


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which I drink in the sack of the youngest—the silver cup—and send them away.” ( Jub. 42:25) The phrase “whether there were peaceful thoughts” is based on the description of the scheme plotted by Joseph’s brothers in Gen 50:20: “You intended me harm (‫—”)ואתם חשבתם עלי רעה‬and perhaps also on the language of Jer 29:11: “plans for your welfare and not for disaster (‫מחשבות‬ ‫)שלום ולא לרעה‬.”63 In Jubilees, Joseph’s intention is interpreted as representing a test as to whether his brothers were “aiming at good for one another.” The Joseph story is thus thematically related to the narrative concerning Jacob and Esau, the latter referring to “intent” in the context of fraternal relations as part of an exegesis of Lev 19:17a. Moreover, the phrase “peaceful thoughts”—designating “good intentions”—in the Joseph narrative is synonymous with the “peace in the heart” ( Jub. 37:21) alluded to in the narrative regarding Isaac’s sons.64 Significantly, a similar phrase appears in the Damascus Document in relation to Lev 19:17–18: “to love each man his brother as himself and to support the poor, destitute, and proselyte, and to seek each man the peace of his brother (‫”)ולדרוש איש את שלום אחיהו‬ (CD 6:20–7:1).65

63

‫( רעה‬evil) and ‫( שלום‬peace) as antithetical terms are also attested in Isa 45:7 and Ps 28:3; cf. also Ps 34:15. 64 Cf. 4Q223–224 2 iv 9–10 (Jub. 37:21): ‫ואם [יהיהי לבם ]עליהם[ ל]היטיב‬ ‫( עליה[ם אז יהיה בלבי] עליכה שלום‬DJD 13:118). 65 For the English translation, see D. Schwartz, “Damascus Document,” in The Dead Sea Scrolls: Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek Texts with English Translations (ed. J. H. Charlesworth; Tübingen: Mohr, 1995), 2:24–25. Despite the similarity noted above, Jubilees and the Damascus Document differ in their interpretation of the term ‫אח‬. While in Jubilees the noun refers to a fellow-Israelite, in the Damascus Document it indicates a member of the Qumran sect. For the term ‫ אח‬in CD 6:20–7:1, see J. Jokiranta and C. Wassen, “A Brotherhood at Qumran? Metaphorical Familial Language in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in Northern Lights on the Dead Sea Scrolls: Proceedings of the Nordic Qumran Network 2003–2006 (ed. A. K. Petersen et al.; Leiden: Brill, 2009), 173–203, esp. 196–200. For a detailed discussion of the commandment “Love your fellow as yourself ” in sectarian writings, see L. H. Schiffman, Sectarian Law in the Dead Sea Scrolls: Courts, Testimony, and the Penal Code (Chico: Scholars Press, 1983), 89–109; Mathys, Liebe deinen Nächsten, 120–24; Kugel, “On Hidden Hatred and Open Reproach,” 52–55; Milgrom, Leviticus 17–22, 1647–54.

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In resumption of the analysis of the Joseph story in Jubilees, Judah’s declaration of his readiness to remain as a slave in Joseph’s house in place of Benjamin ( Jub. 43:11–13 [Gen 44:16–34]) constitutes the proof Joseph was seeking—namely, that “the hearts of all of them were in harmony [literally: the same] one with the other for good” ( Jub. 43:14; cf. Jub. 36:17, 46:1). The latter phrase is the antithesis of the expressions “bad things (ʾəkay) in the heart” ( Jub. 37:13) and “was adversely inclined (ʾaʾkaya) toward him from his heart” ( Jub. 37:24). As noted above, both these phrases indicate a violation of the law “You shall not hate your kinsfolk in your heart” (Lev 19:17a). The purpose of Joseph’s test as recorded in Jubilees thus appears to have been to observe whether his brothers were in fact fulfilling the injunction of Lev 19:17a.66 The Jubilean account of the story of Joseph and his brothers consequently culminates in a state of brotherly love. Other details in the reworked story also indicate that the author of Jubilees took pains to present the relations between Jacob’s sons—i.e., the Israelites—in a positive light.67 Firstly, Joseph’s brothers never hated nor were jealous of him, Joseph, for his part, never bringing a bad report of them to their father (but cf. Gen 37:1–11). Secondly, the narrative concerning the brothers’ conspiracy is extremely abbreviated (cf. Jub. 34:11 vis-à-vis Gen 18–28). Also greatly truncated are the two reports of Joseph’s 66

As noted by other scholars, a similar exegesis of the test imposed by Joseph on his brothers occurs in other ancient Jewish sources: cf. 4Q538 1–2 2–4; Philo, Joseph 232–36; Josephus, Ant. 2.126, 161. See J. T. Milik, “Écrits préesséniens de Qumrân: d’Hénoch à Amram,” in Qumrân: Sa piété, sa théologie et son milieu (ed. M. Delcor; Paris: Leuven University Press, 1978), 91–106, esp. 97–98; Kugel, Traditions of the Bible, 461–62; É. Puech, “538. 4QTestament de Juda ar,” in DJD 31:191–200, esp. 198; D. Dimant, “Not a ‘Testament of Judah’ but ‘The Words of Benjamin’: On the Character of 4Q538,” in Connected Vessels: The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Literature of the Second Temple Period (Jerusalem: Bialik Institute, 2010), 236–51 [Hebrew]. Although none of these parallel texts explicitly presents the test of Joseph’s brothers as an examination of their fulfillment of Lev 19:17–18, the language they employ, as well as their resemblance to the Jubilean story, makes it plausible that this is their intent. 67 Cf. the similar conclusion reached by other scholars who have discussed the Joseph’s story in Jubilees in brief: M. Niehoff, The Figure of Joseph in Post-Biblical Jewish Literature (Leiden: Brill, 1992), 43–44; S. Docherty, “Joseph the Patriarch: Representations of Joseph in Early Post-Biblical Literature,” in Borders, Boundaries and the Bible (ed. M. O’Kane; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2002), 194– 216, esp. 208–12.


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harsh words to his brothers on their first visit to Egypt ( Jub. 42:15, 9 vis-à-vis Gen 42:9–20, 29–34). By these literary means, the Jubilean author highlights the importance of fraternal love within Jacob’s family, thereby stressing his conception of the proper relations the Israelites should practice amongst themselves—namely, fraternal love.

E. Brotherly Love between the Israelites The sole explicit reference to the command to “Love your fellow as yourself ” in the book of Jubilees is applied to the entire people of Israel: After the death of Jacob, the children of Israel became numerous in the land of Egypt. They became a populous nation, and all of them were in harmony [literally: the same] in their hearts so that each one loved the other and each one helped the other. They became numerous and increased very much—even for ten weeks of years—for all of Joseph’s lifetime. There was no satan or any evil one throughout all of Joseph’s lifetime that he lived after his father Jacob because all the Egyptians were honoring the children of Israel for all of Joseph’s lifetime. ( Jub. 46:1–2) Several elements are conjoined in this exegesis of Lev 19:17–18. Firstly, the sentence “all of them were in harmony in their hearts (wa-konu kwəllomu ʿəruyāna ba-ləbbomu)” resembles the phrase used in the rewritten Joseph story: “The hearts of all of them were in harmony (ʿəruy) one with the other for good” ( Jub. 43:14; cf. also 36:17). This expression refers to “intent,” constituting an interpretation of the injunction, “You shall not hate your kinsman in your heart” (Lev 19:17a). Secondly, the good intentions facilitated a situation in which “each one loved the other and each one helped the other.” The first of these sentences clearly alludes to the commandment to “Love your fellow as yourself,” which, as remarked above, denotes living together in peace. The second—“each one helped the other”—recalls Isa 41:6: “Each one helped the other (‫)איש את רעהו יעזרו‬.” The author of Jubilees does not necessarily have this specific verse in mind, however. His expansion regarding “help” is more likely dependent upon the parallelism between the Hebrew roots ‫ אה"ב‬and ‫( עז"ר‬see 2 Chr 19:2),68 68

For the synonymy between ‫ אה"ב‬and ‫ עז"ר‬and its significance for understanding Lev 19:18, see A. Malamat, “‘You Shall Love Your Fellow as Yourself ’:

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reinforced by a common Hebrew formula such as ‫איש את‬/‫איש את רעהו‬ ‫אחיו‬, terminology resembling the language of Lev 19:17–18.69 The association of “help” with “love” per se implies that performance of the injunction to “Love your fellow as yourself ” is not confined to passive peaceful co-existence but includes an active deed—the extension of “help” to another person. Although the precise form of assistance is not detailed in Jub. 46:1, hints may be found in the remainder of the book, as well as in the biblical background of the passage. In light of Abraham’s final words— which explain the fulfillment of the commandment to “Love your fellow as yourself ” in terms of “alliance” ( Jub. 20:2)—the “help” indicated in Jub. 46:1 may refer to fighting together against a common enemy. This suggestion is also plausible in view of the fact that the Hebrew root ‫ עז"ר‬on occasion denotes the aid extended by an ally in time of distress.70 The ideal propounded in Jub. 46:1 of the Israelites’ fulfillment of the law given in Lev 19:17–18 is sandwiched between two similar statements relating to the nation’s augmentation: “After the death of Jacob, the children of Israel became numerous in the land of Egypt. They became a populous nation … They became numerous and increased very much—even for ten weeks of years—for all of Joseph’s lifetime.” These notations—based principally on Gen 47:27 and Exod 1:771—form a new sequence in Jubilees, A Case of Misinterpretation?” in Die Hebräische Bibel und ihre zweifache Nachgeschichte: Festschrift für Rolf Rendtorff zum 65. Geburstag (ed. E. Blum, C. Macholtz, and E. W. Stegemann; Hamburg: Neukirchener, 1990), 111–15. 69 The formulae ‫איש את אחיו‬/‫ איש את רעהו‬are also attested in the exegesis of Lev 19:17–18 found in the sectarian writings: cf. CD 8:5–6, 9:3; 1QS 5:25. 70 See 2 Chr 19:2, where ‫ עז"ר‬occurs in parallelism with ‫ ;אה"ב‬cf. also Josh 10:33; 2 Sam 8:5; Isa 31:3; 1QpHab 5:11; 1QM 1:2; J. Fabry, “‫עזר‬,” TDOT 11:13. If this assessment is correct, the author of Jubilees may also have had Josh 1:14–15 in mind when interpreting the ordinance to “Love your fellow as yourself ” in terms of “helping him during war”: “every one of your fighting men shall go across armed in the van of your kinsmen (‫)לפני אחיכם‬. And you shall assist them (‫ )ועזרתם אותם‬until the Lord has given your kinsmen (‫ )אחיכם‬a haven, such as you have . . .” Like Lev 19:17–18, both these verses in Joshua deal with the laws given by Moses in regard to the proper relations to be practiced between kinsmen, being linked by their common theme and mention of “kinsman/men” (‫ אחיכם‬in Josh 1:14–15 and ‫ אחיך‬in Lev 19:17). 71 Perhaps also Exod 1:20, as suggested by Halpern-Amaru, “Burying the Fathers,” 137. The relationship between Jub. 46 and its primary sources in Genesis


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whereby the Jubilean author implies a causal relation between observation of the injunctions of Lev 19:17–18 and the Israelites’ multiplying.72 This new cycle is based on covenantal texts, such as that in Lev 26:1–9: “If you follow my laws and faithfully observe my commandments . . . I will look with favor upon you, and make you fertile and multiply you” (cf. Deut 28:11, 63, 30:9). According to the reworked narrative of Jub. 46:1–2, however, the reward given to those who obey the commandment in Lev 19:17–18 also contains an additional aspect: “There was no satan or any evil one throughout all of Joseph’s lifetime that he lived after his father Jacob, because all the Egyptians were honoring the children of Israel for all of Joseph’s lifetime” (Jub. 46:2). The words “there was no satan or any evil” is a quotation from 1 Kgs 5:18, wherein the phrase indicates a peaceful period.73 In Jubilees, the goodwill does not derive solely from God’s bestowal of favor upon Joseph (cf. Jub. 40:9) but is also a consequence of the fact that “all the Egyptians were honoring the children of Israel” ( Jub. 46:2). The description of this reward echoes Rebecca’s final testament, where obedience to the ordinances in Lev 19:17–18 is said to lead to various blessings: “‘Then you will be prosperous, my sons, and be honored on the earth. Your enemy will not be happy over you. You will become a blessing and an object of kindness in the view of all who love you’” ( Jub. 35:20).

and Exodus has also been examined by J. T. A. G. M. van Ruiten, “Between Jacob’s Death and Moses’ Birth: The Intertextual Relationship between Genesis 50:15–Exodus 1:14 and Jubilees 46:1–16,” in Flores Florentino: Dead Sea Scrolls and Other Early Jewish Studies in Honour of Florentino García Martínez (ed. A. Hilhorst, É. Puech, and E. J. C. Tigchelaar; Leiden: Brill, 2007), 467–89. 72 The literary context of Genesis implies that the Israelites became a great nation in Egypt in realization of God’s promise to Jacob (Gen 43:3, 47:27; Exod 1:7). While the receipt of the divine blessing does not depend upon the Israelites’ deeds in the biblical account, Jub. 46:1–2 ascribes it to their observance of the law (i.e., Lev 19:17–18). 73 As noted by Charles, the phrase also occurs verbatim in Jub. 23:29, where it indicates the prosperity expected in the eschatological era: R. H. Charles, The Book of Jubilees or the Little Genesis (London: Black, 1902), 245.

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Conclusions This survey of references to Lev 19:17–18 in Jubilees demonstrates that this biblical commandment plays a significant role within the composition. Allusions to both parts of the injunction occur in the book: “You shall not hate your kinsman in your heart” (Lev 19:17a) and “Love your fellow as yourself ” (Lev 19:18b). These are embedded within various chapters of the book, in different literary units: the Noah stories, the Abraham cycle, the Jacob narrative, the story of Joseph and his brothers, and the Exodus account. The exegesis of Lev 19:17a, 18b remains consistent throughout the book, its observation/violation being expressed by fixed terms. Jubilees appears to interpret the two parts of Lev 19:17–18 in reference to two juridical functions. The Jubilean author interprets “You shall not hate your kinsman in your heart” (Lev 19:17a) as a prohibition against malicious intent, specifically the intent to murder. The fulfillment/transgression of the ordinance is indicated by the phrases “aim good/bad at one’s brother” and having “peace/bad things in the heart.” The injunction “Love your fellow as yourself ” (Lev 19:18b) is understood as the act of “living together in peace” and “being an ally”—variously denoted by the terms “to love,” “peace,” “being together,” “being a brother” and “to help.” Violation of the commandment is signified by the designations “to hate,” “to be jealous,” “to fight,” “to kill,” and “to separate.” The interweaving of Lev 19:17–18 into stories concerning different generations of Israel’s ancestors also serves as a means of illustrating the right relations to be practiced between the Israelites and/or between Israel and the Gentiles. Jacob, the prototype of Israel, is portrayed as fulfilling the commandment to “Love your fellow as yourself,” while his sons, representing the Israelites as a whole, ultimately come to constitute the model of brotherly love. In his judicious reworking of the Joseph story, the author of Jubilees omits the biblical passage which speaks of fraternal hatred and jealousy, describing the brothers, in the later stages of the narrative, as obeying the commandment “You shall not hate your kinsman in your heart.” He also portrays the Israelites during Joseph’s lifetime as loving and helping one another and thus experiencing prosperity. The relations amongst the Israelites stand in sharp contrast to those between Israel and Edom—represented via the relations between Jacob and Esau—which are destined to end in war due to Esau’s evil nature. Jubilees links Lev 19:17–18 to two broader conceptual frameworks. Firstly, it associates the passage with the biblical covenantal framework of


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blessings and curses (cf. Jub. 35:20, 36:8–11, 46:1). The application of a general covenantal principle to a specific case—namely, the fulfillment/ violation of the commandment in Lev 19:17–18—possesses two functions: (a) it emphasizes the concept of the covenant and its role in history, a theme of central importance to the author of Jubilees, the periods during which the Israelites exhibit brotherly love being peaceful and prosperous ( Jub. 46:1); (b) it distinguishes between Jacob-Israel and Esau-Edom, Jacob-Israel rightfully receiving the divine blessing in fulfilling the injunction to “Love your fellow as yourself ” while in violating it Esau is cursed. While the association between Lev 19:17–18 and the divine blessings and curses evidently derives from the Holiness Code itself, the affinity the Jubilean author creates between Lev 19:17–18 and the patriarchal familial relationship represents a bold exegetical move, produced by weaving allusions to Lev 19:17–18 into the patriarchal narratives, a hermeneutical technique typical of the book. These allusions are also related to other rewritten stories concerning the patriarchal family, via the use of similar phrases: “separating,” “not being together,” and “being jealous.” These— principally comprising Jubilean additions to the biblical source—carry negative connotations when relating to Lev 19:18b, as well as in other contexts in Jubilees. Leviticus 19:17–18 is thus also linked to the larger scheme of familial relations which informs Jubilees.


brill.nl/dsd

A New Fragment of the Book of Ben Sira Shulamit Elizur1 and Michael Rand2 1

Department of Hebrew Literature, The Hebrew University, Jerusalem [email protected] 2 The Academy of the Hebrew Language, Jerusalem [email protected]

Abstract In their article, the authors announce the discovery of a new fragment of the Hebrew Book of Ben Sira in the Cairo Genizah, in the Taylor-Schechter collection of the Cambridge University Library: T-S AS 118.78. The fragment is a part of ms. D. After a brief introduction, a critical edition of the text of the fragment is presented, including variant readings from parallel sources and notes to the text. Keywords Ben Sira; Taylor-Schechter Additional Series; Cairo Genizah

Introduction As is well known, the discovery of the Book of Ben Sira is intimately tied to the discovery of the Cairo Genizah.1 Within several years of this event, scholars had identified over half of the original Hebrew of Ben Sira among the Genizah materials. To date, fragments stemming from six different manuscripts of Ben Sira, conventionally labeled A-F, have been identified 1

For further details, see S. C. Reif, “The Discovery of the Cambridge Genizah Fragments of Ben Sira: Scholars and Texts,” in The Book of Ben Sira in Modern Research: Proceedings of the First International Ben Sira Conference 28–31 July 1996 Soesterberg, Netherlands (ed. P. C. Beentjes; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1997), 1–22; R. J. W. Jefferson, “A Genizah secret: The Count d’Hulst and letters revealing the race to recover the lost leaves of the original Ecclesiasticus,” Journal of the History of Collections 21 (2009): 125–42; A. Hoffman and P. Cole, Sacred Trash: The Lost and Found World of the Cairo Genizah (New York: Nextbook/Schocken, 2011), 1–94. © Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2011

DOI: 10.1163/156851711X582532

Sh. Elizur, M. Rand / Dead Sea Discoveries 18 (2011) 200–205

201

in the Genizah. The Genizah finds, moreover, have been supplemented by manuscripts from Qumran (2Q18, 11QPsa) and Masada.2 All of this material has been brought together in a synoptic edition by P. Beentjes.3 To it must now be added a further folio from ms. C.4 Two further important editions of the text, both lacking some of the materials that are included in the Beentjes edition, are that of Segal,5 and that prepared in connection with the Historical Dictionary of the Hebrew Language.6 To the present day, the Hebrew Ben Sira has not been discovered in its entirety, and new fragments of its various copies may be expected to surface on occasion. Below, we provide an edition of such a new fragment in the Additional Series of the Taylor-Schechter collection of the Cambridge University Library: T-S AS 118.78.7 The fragment was identified at the Ezra Fleischer Institute for the Research of Hebrew Poetry in the Genizah, in the course of the systematic cataloguing of the poetic fragments contained in the T-S Additional Series. The initial identification was made by Sarah Cohen, the Institute’s researcher, and was confirmed by the Institute’s director, Shulamit Elizur. The new fragment belongs to ms. D, which had been represented up till now by a single leaf from the collection of the Alliance Israélite Universelle in Paris: I D 1–2.8 It contains the text of Ben Sira 7:18–8:18, all of which 2

See Y. Yadin, The Ben Sira Scroll from Masada, in Sh. Talmon, Hebrew Fragments from Masada (Masada VI—Yigael Yadin Excavations 1963–1965; Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1999), 151–252. 3 P. C. Beentjes, The Book of Ben Sira in Hebrew: A Text Edition of all Extant Hebrew Manuscripts & A Synopsis of All Parallel Hebrew Ben Sira Texts (Leiden: Brill, 1997). 4 See Sh. Elizur, “‫קטע חדש מהנוסח העברי של ספר בן סירא‬,” Tarbiz 76 (2007): 17–28 and eadem, “Two New Leaves of the Hebrew Version of Ben Sira,” DSD 17 (2010): 13–20. 5 M. Segal, ‫( ספר בן סירא השלם‬Jerusalem: Bialik Institute, 1958). 6 The Historical Dictionary of the Hebrew Language, ed., ,‫ספר בן סירא—המקור‬ ‫( קונקורדנציה וניתוח אוצר המלים‬Jerusalem: The Academy of the Hebrew Language, 1973). 7 Cf. Reif, “Discovery,” 20: “There may be other Ben Sira items lurking among the smaller and less legible contents of some of the Additional Series binders but that remains a matter for future researchers.” We would like to thank our colleague Ben Outhwaite, together with the staff of the Genizah Research Unit at Cambridge University Library, for their generous help in preparing the edition. 8 I. Lévi, “Fragments de deux nouveaux manuscrits hébreux de l’Écclésiastique,”

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is also attested in ms. A. Verses 7:20–21, 23–25; 8:7 are likewise attested in ms. C. The overlap is fortunate, as the new fragment is in a very poor state of preservation, so that its extensive lacunae can be filled in from the parallel sources. On the other hand, because of the existence of the parallel sources, the new fragment does not add significant new text to what had previously been known of the Hebrew Ben Sira. Below, we present a critical edition of the new fragment, including an apparatus of variant readings from the parallel sources and notes on significant readings, etc. The readings in the apparatus and the notes are based on our own collation of the relevant manuscripts.

Edition Manuscripts: A = T-S 12.864 + ENA 2536.1 C = AIU I D 1-2 D = T-S AS 118.78 Editorial Symbols: [..] = lacuna of less than one word in the text [. . .] = lacuna of one word or more in the text ‫ = ̇א‬doubtful reading | = boundary between recto and verso Note: The Hebrew text is arranged stichometrically, in accordance with the verse divisions. This arrangement does not reflect the lineation of the manuscript. Lacunae are restored from ms. A, unless otherwise indicated in the apparatus. ‫ ואח תלוי בזהב אופיר‬/ ‫]אל תמיר אוה[ב במחיר‬ ‫וטובת חן̇ ̇מפנינים‬ ̇ / ‫משכ[לת‬ ̇ ‫̇אל ]תמאס אשה‬ ‫ וכן שכיר[ נ̇ ]ות[ן נפשו‬/ ‫עוב]ד אמת‬ ̇ [‫ב[א ̇מ]ת‬ ̇ ‫א]ל[ ̇ת ̇ר]ע‬ ‫ אל תמנע ממנו חפש‬/ [‫]ח[בב ]כנפש‬ ̇ ‫]כי[ל‬ ̇ ‫מש‬ ̇ ‫עבד‬

7.18 7.19 7.20 7.21

REJ 40 (1900): 1–30. According to the data of the Friedberg Genizah Project, under these shelf-marks are subsumed two leaves: one representing ms. D and one representing ms. C.

‫‪203‬‬

‫‪7.22‬‬ ‫‪7.23‬‬ ‫‪7.24‬‬ ‫‪7.25‬‬ ‫‪7.26‬‬ ‫‪7.29‬‬ ‫‪7.30‬‬ ‫‪7.31‬‬ ‫‪7.32‬‬ ‫‪7.33‬‬ ‫‪7.34‬‬ ‫‪7.35‬‬ ‫‪7.36‬‬ ‫‪8.1‬‬ ‫‪8.2‬‬ ‫‪8.3‬‬ ‫‪8.4‬‬ ‫‪8.5‬‬ ‫‪8.6‬‬ ‫‪8.7‬‬ ‫‪8.8‬‬ ‫‪8.9‬‬ ‫‪8.10‬‬ ‫‪8.11‬‬ ‫‪8.12‬‬ ‫‪8.13‬‬ ‫‪8.14‬‬ ‫‪8.15‬‬ ‫‪8.16‬‬ ‫‪8.17‬‬ ‫‪8.18‬‬

‫‪Sh. Elizur, M. Rand / Dead Sea Discoveries 18 (2011) 200–205‬‬

‫בהמ ̇ה ]לך[ ראה עיניך ‪] /‬ואם[ ̇א ̇מנה היא העמידה‬ ‫̇‬ ‫ושא ]לה[ם נשים בנעוריהם‬ ‫בני̇ ̇ם ̇ל ̇ך ]יס[ר אותם ‪̇ /‬‬ ‫]נצו[ר שא]רם ‪ /‬ואל ת[איר אליהם פנים‬ ‫̇‬ ‫לך‬ ‫ות ̇‬ ‫בנ̇ ̇‬ ‫וא[ל נבון גבר חברה‬ ‫̇‬ ‫̇ה]וצא בת ויצא עסק ‪/‬‬ ‫אשה ]לך אל תתעבה ‪ /‬ושנואה אל[ תאמן בה‬ ‫ה[ק]דיש[‬ ‫בכל לבך פחד ̇אל ‪ /‬ואת ̇כ ̇הנ̇ ]יו ̇‬ ‫]תעז[ב‬ ‫̇‬ ‫לא‬ ‫]מש[רתיו ̇‬ ‫̇‬ ‫]וא[ת‬ ‫̇‬ ‫עושך ‪/‬‬ ‫̇‬ ‫אהוב‬ ‫̇‬ ‫מאודך‬ ‫]בכל[ ̇‬ ‫לקם כאשר צויתה‬ ‫ות]ן[ ̇ח ̇‬ ‫̇כ ̇ב]ד אל והדר כהן[ ‪̇ /‬‬ ‫צ[ד ̇ק ]ותרו[מת ]ק[דש‬ ‫לחם אבירי̇ ]ם תר[ומתה ‪̇ . . .] /‬‬ ‫וגם לאביו הושי̇ טה יד ‪ /‬למען תשלם ברכתך‬ ‫תן מתן לפני כל חי ‪ /‬וגם ממת ]א[ל תמנע חסד‬ ‫אל תתאחר מבוכים ‪ /‬ועם אבילים התאבל‬ ‫]אל תשא לב מאוהב ‪ /‬כי ממנו תאהב[‬ ‫לא ̇ת]שחת[‬ ‫ולעו[ל ̇ם ̇‬ ‫̇‬ ‫]בכ[ל ]מעשיך זכור אחרית ‪/‬‬ ‫תשו̇ ̇ב על ̇יד]ו[‬ ‫]ת[ר]יב עם איש גדול[ ‪̇ /‬ל]מה[ ̇‬ ‫̇‬ ‫̇אל‬ ‫אל | ̇תריב ]עם קשה[ ממך ‪ /‬למה תפול בידו‬ ‫]מ[חי̇ ̇ר ̇ך ואבדת‬ ‫̇‬ ‫]ישק[ל‬ ‫̇‬ ‫אל תחרוש ]על[ אי̇ ̇ש לו ̇הן̇ ‪] /‬פ[ן̇‬ ‫לבות ]נ[דיבים‬ ‫̇‬ ‫מש ̇ג ̇ה‬ ‫והן̇ ̇‬ ‫]בי[ם ה]פחיז זהב[ ‪̇ /‬‬ ‫̇‬ ‫̇כי̇ ̇ר‬ ‫אל תינץ עם ̇א]יש לשו[ן ‪] /‬ואל תתן[ על אש עצים‬ ‫̇א]ל[ תרגיל עם איש אויל ‪ /‬פן יבוז ̇ל]נדיבים[‬ ‫]ת[כלים א]יש[ ̇ש ̇ב מפשע ‪ /‬זכר כי כלנו חייבים‬ ‫̇‬ ‫̇א ̇ל‬ ‫נמנה מזקנים‬ ‫]אל תבייש אנוש ישיש ‪ /‬כי[ ̇‬ ‫אל תתהלל ע]ל גוע ‪ /‬זכר כלנו נאספים[‬ ‫יח ̇ת ]חכמים ‪ /‬ובחידתיהם התרטש[‬ ‫]ת[טש ̇ש ̇‬ ‫̇‬ ‫אל‬ ‫]כ[י̇ ממנו תלמוד לקח ‪] /‬להתיצב לפני שרים[‬ ‫אשר ]שמעו מאבתם[‬ ‫]בי[ם ‪̇ /‬‬ ‫̇‬ ‫]אל תמאס[ ̇בשמיעות ̇ש‬ ‫]שי[ב ]פתגם[‬ ‫̇‬ ‫]כי ממנו תקח[ ̇ש ̇כ ̇ל ‪̇ /‬ב]עת צ[ורך ̇ל ̇ה‬ ‫תבע[ר ̇ב ̇ש ̇ב]יב אשו[‬ ‫̇‬ ‫̇אל ̇ת]צלח[ ̇מי̇ ]נחלת רשע ‪ /‬פן‬ ‫]אל תזוח מפני לץ ‪ /‬להושיבו כאורב לפני[ך‬ ‫כמא]בד[‬ ‫̇‬ ‫]אל תלוה א[י]ש חזק ממך[ ‪ /‬ו̇ ̇א ̇ם הלוית‬ ‫אל תערב י̇ ]תר[ ̇מ ̇מך ‪ /‬ואם ערבת כמשלם‬ ‫אל תשפוט עם שופט ‪ /‬כי כרצונו ישפט‬ ‫רע]ת[ך‬ ‫עם אכזרי אל תלך ‪ /‬פן תכביד את ̇‬ ‫ילך ‪ /‬ו̇ ̇ב]א[ולתו תספה‬ ‫]ו[א נ̇ כח פניו ̇‬ ‫כי ̇ה ̇‬ ‫אף אל תעי]ז[ ̇מ]צח ‪ /‬ואל תרכב עמו בדרך[‬ ‫עם בעל ̇‬ ‫̇‬ ‫]צי[ל י̇ ̇ש ̇חיתך‬ ‫̇‬ ‫]כי קל בעיניו דמי[ם ‪ /‬ובאי]ן[ ̇מ‬ ‫]עם פותה אל תסתייד ‪ /‬כי לא[ יוכל לכסות סודך‬ ‫לפני זר אל ̇ת]עש רז ‪ /‬כי לא[ ̇ת ̇דע‬

204


Apparatus 7:20 ‫ עבד עובד ]באמת עובד‬C / [‫ שכיר‬restored from C; ‫ שוכר‬A 7:21 ‫ אהוב ]חבב‬C / ‫ חופש ]חפש‬C 7:23 ‫ ]יסר‬restored from C; ‫ יסיר‬A / ‫ ]נשים‬lacking in C 7:24 ‫ בנים ]בנות‬C / ‫ תאר ]תאיר‬C / ‫אלהם ]אליהם‬A ‫ להם‬C 7:25 ‫ הוציא ]הוצא‬C / ‫ ג]בר[ נבון זבדה ]נבון גבר חברה‬C 7:31 ‫ ות]ן[ ]ותן‬A καὶ δός LXX / ‫ צוותה ]צויתה‬A / ‫ ותרומת ]תרומתה‬A 7:32 ‫ ]הו[שיט ]הושיטה‬A 8:2 ‫ ]ת[חרש ]תחרוש‬A / ‫ לא ]לו‬A with the marginal note '‫ לו קו‬/ ‫ הון ]הן‬A / ‫]זהב‬ ‫ ]ז[הב‬A τὸ χρυσίον LXX / ‫ ]נ[דיבים ]נדיבים‬A; restored according to sense 8:5 ‫ א]יש[ ]איש‬A ἄνθρωπον LXX 8:6 ‫ אנו]ש[ ]אנוש‬A ἄνθρωπον LXX 8:10 ‫ בנחלת ]מי נחלת‬A 8:12 ‫ תל]ו[ה ]תלוה‬A δανείσῃς LXX 8:14 ‫ תשפט ]תשפוט‬A 8:15 ‫ ]פן‬written between the lines A / ‫ נוכח ]נכח‬A Notes (7:20) ‫—באמת עובד אמת‬The reading of D appears to follow that of A, whereas C reads: ‫( עבד עובד אמת‬supported by LXX: οἰκέτην ἐργαζόμενον ἐν ἀληθείᾳ). The two readings share the text ‫עובד אמת‬, to which A D add ‫ באמת‬and C adds ‫עבד‬. In both cases, the addition is dittographic, so that the text of the original hemistich is likely to have been: ‫אל תרע עובד אמת‬. This reconstruction is supported by the Peshitta: ‫לא תטרף לעבדא דפלח בקושטא‬. (7:31) ‫—לחם אבירים‬The reading of D confirms that of A. The phrase is drawn from Ps 78:25, where it refers to the manna. In the present context, it serves as a poetic term for the priestly gifts. (7:31) ‫[ צדק ותרומת קדש‬. . .] / ‫—לחם אבירים תרומתה‬The reading of A, including Segal’s restorations, is ‫ זבחי[ צדק ותרומת קדש‬/ ‫לחם אבירים ותרומת ]יד‬. The reading ‫ תרומתה‬of D is perhaps a mistake for ‫( תרומתם‬cf. ‫ חלקם‬in the previous line). If so, the line in D may be emended and restored: ‫ זבחי צדק‬/ ‫לחם אבירים תרומתם‬ ‫ותרומת קדש‬. (7:32) ‫—לאביו‬A reads [. .]‫לאב‬. The correct reading is ‫לאביון‬, as in LXX: πτωχῷ. (8:1) ‫—תשוב על ידו‬The reading of D confirms that of A: ‫תשוב על ]י[דו‬. Segal suggests that the text here is corrupt, the source of the corruption being ‫תפול בידו‬ from the parallel hemistich in the following line. (8:8) ‫—תלמוד‬The reading of D confirms that of A.


205

(8:9) ‫—בשמיעות‬The reading of D confirms that of A: [‫בשמיעו̇ ]ת‬. (The various editions incorrectly give the reading of A as ‫)בשמיעת‬ ̇ The intended form is probably ‫בשמיעוּת‬, an abstract noun that is attested in Classical piyyut: ‫שאנן שפר‬ ‫( שמיעוּתם‬M. Zulay, ‫[ פיוטי יניי‬Berlin: Schocken, 1938] ‫רפד‬, line ‫)לח‬. (8:10) ‫—אל תצלח מי נחלת רשע‬For this hemistich, LXX reads μὴ ἔκκαιε ἄνθρακας ἁμαρτωλοῦ “Do not kindle the coals of a sinner.” The text of A reads: ‫אל תצלח‬ ‫בנחלת רשע‬. The result of comparison to the Greek seems to indicate, as Segal notes, that the Greek reflects a Hebrew text that reads: ‫אל תצית בגחלת רשע‬, or perhaps . . . ‫אל תצלה‬. However, the reading of D, [. . .] ̇‫[ ̇מי‬. .]‫אל ̇ת‬, ̇ appears to confirm the general sense of the text of A, whereby ‫ נחלת רשע‬is to be understood as “an evil man’s stream,” (or simply “an evil stream”) and ‫ צלח‬means “to rush into (a body of water)” (cf. ‫[ וצלחו הירדן‬2 Sam 19:18]). According to this interpretation, ‫ נחלה‬is a feminine by-form of the noun ‫“ נחל‬stream.” The form ‫נַ ְח ָלה‬, with penultimate accent, is attested in BH: ‫( נחלה עבר על נפשנו‬Ps 124:4). It is likely that the BH form served as the model for the feminine noun in BS. If this interpretation is correct, the text of A is to be translated: “Do not rush into an evil man’s stream.” The text of D, with the text in the lacunae supplied from A, is of a similar import: “Do not rush into the waters of an evil man’s stream.” On this reading, the entire line constitutes a mixed metaphor, whereby the one rushing into the evil man’s stream is in danger of being scorched by his fire. Alternately, it may be presenting a deliberate juxtaposition between water, which may apparently be crossed with ease, and fire, which burns painfully. In either case, it is possible, though by no means necessary, that the imagery employed is rooted in the Biblical ‫( נהר די נור‬Dan 7:10). (8:14) ‫—תשפוט‬The sense requires a Nifal verb, so that the reading of A is to be preferred: ‫תשפט‬.


brill.nl/dsd

Qumran Textiles and the Garments of Qumran’s Inhabitants* Orit Shamir1 and Naama Sukenik2 1

2

Israel Antiquities Authority [email protected] Department of Land of Israel and Archaeology, Bar-Ilan University [email protected]

Abstract Among the Qumran textiles that were kept at the Rockefeller Museum was a group of textiles that were unusual for Qumran. Most of them were made of wool, and some were dyed or decorated. Their marking QCC—Qumran Christmas Cave indicates their origin. In 2007 the cave was investigated by Porat, Eshel, and Frumkin. The cave is located in the bottom section of Kidron valley and doesn’t belong to Qumran caves. It can now be determined that all of the textiles from Qumran are made solely of linen. They were free of any colored decoration, except for scroll wrappers that decorated in blue. This, and the simplicity and whiteness of the textiles from Qumran, is compatible with the literary sources. It appears that the people of Qumran wished to differentiate themselves from the rest of the population also on the basis of their style of garments. Keywords Qumran textiles, Christmas Cave, linen textiles, homogeneous textiles, sectarian clothing

* This article originated as an assignment that was submitted by Naama Sukenik in a seminar taught by the late Professor Hanan Eshel at Bar-Ilan University. We are grateful for Professor Eshel’s support in the preparation of this article and to Professor Zohar Amar and Eyal Regev for constant helpful comments on earlier drafts. © Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2011

DOI: 10.1163/156851711X570427

O. Shamir, N. Sukenik / Dead Sea Discoveries 18 (2011) 206–225

207

1. Introduction The subject of the textiles from Qumran is regrettably under-represented in the voluminous academic literature devoted to the archaeology of the Qumran site and of the nearby caves. The site is one of the first in Israel where remains of textiles were found. This fact heightens the importance of the Qumran textiles, but it also calls attention to the scant knowledge about this field of study at the time of those first finds in the 1950s. The textiles that were found at Qumran were stored in an inappropriate facility, without careful recordal and documentation, and this situation continued for nearly fifty years. The publication of the relevant data has still not been completed and some of the textiles have been dispersed to a variety of locations.1 In this article we discuss the clothing of the inhabitants of Qumran on the basis of the archaeological findings known today. The first textiles from Qumran that were subjected to scientific analysis were taken for examination even before the organized excavations of de Vaux in the 1950s. These textiles were collected from Cave 1 in 1949 by de Vaux and Harding and were published by Crowfoot in 1955.2 Although this was only a preliminary publication of information about the 77 textiles that were found in Cave 1, it had great importance for the next stages of research. It appears that during the excavations, most of the textiles were stored in a room at the Rockefeller Museum where all of the Qumran findings were kept together. There were many additional textiles in the collection of the École Biblique, and scraps of other textiles traveled with the researchers to England, to the Amman Archaeological Museum in Jordan, and to other private collections throughout the world.3 The textiles were placed in cardboard boxes, at times without even a record of their exact source, and they were stored under conditions that were unsuitable for organic materials.4 It was only in 1998 that Humbert and Chambon made a preliminary classification of the materials at the 1

See n. 3, below. Grace Mary Crowfoot, “The Linen Textiles,” in Qumran Cave 1 (ed. Dominique Barthélemy and Józef T. Milik; DJD 1; Oxford: Clarendon, 1955), 18–38. 3 Mireille Bélis, “Des textiles, catalogues et commentaires,” in Khirbet Qumrân et ʿAïn Feshkha II: Études d’anthropologie, de physique et de chimie (ed. Jean-Baptiste Humbert and Jan Gunneweg; Novum Testamentum et Orbis Antiquus, Series Archaeologica 3; Fribourg: Academic Press, 2003), 207–76 at 223, 228. 4 Ibid., 207. 2

208


Rockefeller Museum. In the early 2000s, the textiles were transferred from the Rockefeller Museum to the collection of the Israel Antiquities Authority (IAA), and in 2003, Bélis published an article about an additional 130 textiles, mostly from Cave 8, Cave 11, and the Christmas Cave, and some of unknown provenance.5 Bélis examined the textiles before cleaning. As a historian, she emphasized such issues as the relationship between the manuscripts and the textiles,6 rather than technical details. Later the textiles were cleaned by Vinitzky at the IAA for the first time, and examined and catalogued by Shamir.7 At present there are hundreds of textiles in the IAA collection which came from the Qumran region.8 To summarize, the published textiles that were found in Qumran and its vicinity are as follows: 1. From the caves: Crowfoot published only the textiles from Cave 1, presented below.9 Bélis published textiles from Cave 8, Cave 11, and the Christmas Cave, and some of unknown provenance.10 2. From Tomb 1 in the southern cemetery of Qumran: 3 miniscule linen remnants adhered to metal.11 3. A few carbonized linen textiles were preserved at the site at locus 96.12 5

Ibid., 277–86. Ibid., 209, 229–41. 7 Orit Shamir, “Textile in the Land of Israel from the Roman Period till the Early Islamic Period in the Light of the Archaeological Finds” (Ph.D. diss., Hebrew University, Jerusalem 2006), 78–81; idem, “Textiles and Garments from Qumran— Chalcolithic and Roman Period,” in Bio-and Material Cultures at Qumran (ed. Jan Gunneweg, Charles Greenblatt, and Annemie Adriaens; Stuttgart: Fraunhofer IRB, 2006), 285–96. 8 Note that (a) this number includes the textiles of the Christmas Cave, and (b) Bélis’ lists of textiles do not fully match the textiles that are presently in the IAA collection. 9 Crowfoot, “The Linen Textiles.” 10 Bélis, “Des textiles.” 11 Ibid., 251–59; Martin Müller et al., “Identification of the Textiles from Khirbet Qumran Using Microscopy and Synchrotron Radiation X-RAY Fibre Diffraction,” in Humbert and Gunneweg, eds., Khirbet Qumrân et ʿAïn Feshkha II, 177–86 at 183. 12 Bélis, “Des textiles,” 251–59; Müller et al., “Identification of the Textiles,” 283, 286. 6


209

4. From Ein Feshkha: a treasure of 18 coins of Agrippa II was concealed in a small sack—only traces of the sack remain on the coins.13 Crowfoot examined 77 textiles from Cave 1 in Qumran and found that all of the textiles were made of linen. She distinguished between three major types of textile: 1. Four scroll wrappers decorated with blue bands and stripes. A special method was used to make the decorations: the blue weft threads actually turn 90° and become warps. No exact parallels for this technique have been found. This group has the finest weaves. The remains of one scroll were found in the original covering, a small square of linen.14 The common way of keeping scrolls in the first centuries C.E. was to wrap them up or to put them in cases, sometimes both, and then to put the wrapped or encased scrolls in a cupboard. In Rabbinic literature, the scroll wrappers are called Miṭpeḥ oth ha-sepharim. There is a reference in the Mishnah to the decoration of scroll wrappers, which is important in view of the blue lines on the cloths of Qumran. The passage reads: Scroll-wrappers, whether figures are portrayed on them or not, are susceptible to uncleanness. So the School of Shammai. And the School of Hillel say: If figures are portrayed on them they are not susceptible to uncleanness; if figures are not portrayed on them they are susceptible. Rabban Gamaliel says: In either case they are not susceptible to uncleanness. (m. Kelim 28:4) Crowfoot discussed the blue lines in rectangular patterns, and considered them to have religious significance because she found it hard to believe that one could take so much trouble over a rather uninteresting design unless it had some meaning. She suggested that the rectangles represent the ground plan of some religious building.15 Yadin noted that this design corresponds with the plan of the Temple as 13

Bélis, ibid., 242–43. Crowfoot, “The Linen Textiles,” 18; Eliezer L. Sukenik, The Dead Sea Scrolls of the Hebrew University (Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 1955), 18–19. 15 Crowfoot, “The Linen Textiles,” 25. 14

210


described in the Temple Scroll.16 An additional wrapping, belonging to the Temple Scroll from Cave 11 is today part of the Schøyen Collection in Norway. It is also made of linen, but it is not decorated with colors. A thin string made of plied linen threads was originally found attached to the wrapper, and was used to tie it around the scroll.17 2. Plain simple fabrics, some with fringes. These fabrics were used as scroll wrappers or packing for the scrolls inside the jars.18 3. Small, rough and thick textiles that were used as jar covers. The corners of the fabric were twisted or tied with linen string or strong linen thread. The square was placed over the mouth of a full jar, and tied either round the neck or sometimes to the handles. As described in the Mishnah: If a ball or coil of reed-grass was put over the mouth of the jar and only the sides of it were plastered down, it does not afford protection – but it must be plastered above and below. So too, with a patch of woven stuff. If of paper or leather, and it was bound round with a cord, it affords protection only if it is plastered at the sides. (m. Kelim 10:4) One jar stopper made of textile was found at Berenike from the fifthsixth centuries C.E.19

2. The Christmas Cave textiles Among the textiles that were kept at the Rockefeller Museum was a large group of textiles that were unusual for Qumran. Most of them were made 16

Yigael Yadin, “The Temple Scroll,” The Biblical Archaeologist 30 (1967): 138; idem., The Temple Scroll (Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1983), 1:198–200; Jodi Magness, The Archaeology of Qumran and the Dead Sea Scrolls (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2002), 198. 17 We would like to thank Mr. Martin Schøyen and Prof. Torleif Elgvin for sharing with us unpublished data related to this wrapper. 18 Crowfoot, “The Linen Textiles,” 19. 19 A. M. I. Waveren and Willeke Z. Wendrich, “Textiles,” in Berenike 1994. Preliminary Report of the Excavations at Berenike and the Survey of the Eastern Desert (ed. Steven E. Sidebotham and Willeke Z. Wendrich; Leiden: Research School, 1995), 63–68.


211

of wool, and some were dyed or decorated with bands or a gamma-shaped design in a broad rainbow of colors including red, purple, black, blue and green.20 The marking QCC—Qumran Christmas Cave—written on the boxes in which the textiles were packed, indicates their origin. Shamir catalogues 255 ancient textiles from the Christmas Cave. 184 are dated to the Roman period, 71 to the Chalcolithic period, and five to the Mediaeval period. A few are modern, including some made of cotton. The textiles from the Roman period include 113 wool, 63 linen, and 8 goat-hair textiles. The Christmas Cave is located in the bottom section of the Kidron valley, at the top of the West bank of the river (Wadi an-Ner), before its last twist eastward towards the Dead Sea. This karstic cave is situated south of Khirbet Qumran. It was first discovered on Christmas Day in 1960 by Allegro as part of the searches he conducted in his quest for the Copper Scroll treasures. Allegro described his visit to the cave in his popular book Search in the Desert.21 In his book, Allegro discussed in detail how he found several items in the cave: a bronze coin from the Bar Kokhba period,22 Roman shards, and pieces of leather, and he also reported finding textiles in different colors: red, blue, and yellow.23 Several months after his first visit to the cave, Allegro conducted an excavation at the cave, in the course of which King Hussein of Jordan visited the site.24 However, this excavation did not merit publication in a professional journal.25 The textiles were listed in a preliminary manner only, and were not systematically photographed.26 Furthermore, although the findings clearly showed that the Christmas Cave served as a cave of refuge during the Bar Kokhba Revolt, the textiles were sent to the Rockefeller Museum and registered together

20

Bélis, “Des textiles,” 219. John M. Allegro, Search in the Desert (London: Allen, 1964). 22 Allegro, Search, 14. In an additional test carried out by Porat and others, the coin was dated from the second year of the Bar Kokhba Revolt. See Roi Porat, Hanan Eshel, and Amos Frumkin, “Remains from the Days of the Revolts against the Romans from Caves in the Lower Kidron Region,” Judea and Samaria Research Studies 16 (2007): 231–64 at 238 [Hebrew]. 23 Allegro, Search, 13–16, 22. 24 Ibid., 5. 25 Porat et al., “Remains,” 236. 26 Bélis, “Des textiles,” 237. 21

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with findings from the Qumran Caves.27 Bélis was the first to notice that this was a distinct group and stated that the textiles in the assemblage from the Christmas Cave are different from the textiles that were found at Qumran, both in their functionality and in the material they were made of, as well as in the colors they presented. However, Bélis did not address the relative dating of the textiles with respect to the other artifacts found in the cave. In 2007, the cave was surveyed again, as part of a survey conducted by Porat, Eshel, and Frumkin. They surveyed the cave and examined the numerous finds, which included potsherds, two bronze coins, textile fragments, food remains, and metal objects. They determined that the findings in the Christmas Cave are not related to the Qumran Caves. They also concluded that the human activity in the cave began in the Chalcolithic Period, and that the cave later served as a hiding place for refugees fleeing the Romans, at the end of the revolt leading to the destruction of the Temple, and again in the last stages of the Bar Kokhba Revolt in 135.28

3. Textiles at Qumran 3.1

The Homogeneous Nature of the Qumran Textiles

The new findings from the Christmas Cave, and the conclusion that they are not organically connected to Qumran, make a significant contribution to the study of the Qumran textiles. It can now be determined that all of the textiles that are known from the excavations at Qumran are made of linen and no textiles of wool or any other material were found there. This is true not only for the textiles from Cave 1 that were examined by Crowfoot but also for all of the textiles known today in the IAA collection. Textiles from Qumran Cave 8 were not brought to the IAA and so were not available to us for examination. However the material from Qumran Cave 11 was brought to the IAA from the École Biblique, and included 58 linen textiles from the Roman period. In addition, during excavations conducted by Patrich in the 1980s, 8 textiles dated to the Roman period were found in Cave 11, all made of linen.29 Linen is a plant fiber derived from 27

Porat et al., “Remains,” 237. Porat et al., “Remains,” 244–45. 29 Joseph Patrich, Benny Arubas, and Benny Agur, “Judean Desert, Cave Survey—1986/1987,” Excavations and Surveys in Israel 7–8 (1988-89): 92–95; 28


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the stalks of the flax plant Linum usitatissimum, which is characterized by having a strong flexible fiber that reaches a length of over 35 cm. Linen threads have been used since the Neolithic Age and became a popular raw material in the textile industry throughout the world, including in the Land of Israel.30 The first evidence of the use of linen in the Land of Israel is dated to 10,000 years ago in the finding of a comb at Wadi Murabbaʿāt which was held together by linen threads.31 The process of producing linen consists of several stages, including harvesting the flax plant, sun-drying it, soaking, or retting the flax fibers in water in order to separate the stalks from the inner fibers, re-drying the flax stalks and crushing and winnowing them to separate the fibers, followed by a process of spinning into yarn and weaving to create the cloth.32 The use of linen for weaving spread also during the Hellenistic-Roman periods and is mentioned by Greek and Roman authors, such as Pliny (Nat. 19.2), Strabo (Geogr. 11.2.17), and many times in Jewish sources, in the Mishnah and Talmud.33 Despite the familiar and widespread use of linen, on the basis of archeological findings it has been established that during the Roman period, there was a marked preference for using wool as a raw material.34 Thousands of textiles from the Roman period were discovered in the Judean

Orit Shamir and Tamar Schick, “Textiles of the Chalcolithic Period from Judean Desert Caves,” in Survey and Excavations in the Judean Desert (ed. J. Patrich; Haifa, forthcoming). 30 Robert J. Forbes, Studies in Ancient Technology 4 (Leiden: Brill, 1964), 27; Daniel Zohary and Maria Hopf, Domestication of Plants in the Old World (Oxford: Clarendon, 1994), 119–20. 31 Tamar Schick, “A 10000 Year Old Comb from Wadi Murabbaʿat in the Judean Desert,” ʿAtiqot 27 (1995): 199–202. 32 Avraham Shmuel Hershberg, Cultural Life in Israel during the Mishnaic and Talmudic Periods (Warsaw: Shtiebel, 1923), 1:58–90 [(Hebrew]; Forbes, Studies in Ancient Technology 4, 27–32. 33 Yehuda Feliks, Plants and Animals of the Mishnah (Jerusalem: Institute for Mishnah Research, 1982), 130 [Hebrew]; see, e.g., m. B. Qam. 10:9; m. Kil. 9:9; m. Šabb. 6:1. 34 Shamir, “Textile in the Land of Israel,” 207; Ruth Precker, “Vegetable Dyes and the Dyeing Industry in the Eastern Mediterranean During the Hellenistic, Roman, and Byzantine Periods” (M.A. thesis; Bar-Ilan University, 1992), Appendix 4 [Hebrew].

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Desert, at sites including Masada,35 ʿEn Gedi,36 the Cave of Letters,37 the Cave of the Treasure,38 caves around Jericho, e.g., the Avior Cave,39 Nahal Hever Caves,40 Wadi Murabbaʿāt,41 Negev and in the ʿArava at sites on the Spice Route connecting Petra and Gaza: Moʾa (more than 300 textiles),42 Shaʿar Ramon,43 ʿEn Rahel,44 Qasra.45 1101 of the 1727 textiles were made of wool. Goat hair was also used in the land of Israel but less frequently, on 61 of the 1727 (see Table 1). A very small number of camel hair textiles were also found in the Land of Israel. Cotton textiles from the Roman period were not found in the Land of Israel. Silk from the Roman period was not found in the textiles of the Land of Israel, although silk is mentioned in Talmudic sources. In most of the sites from this period, with the exception of excavation sites of cemeteries where linen burial shrouds were

35

Today, we know of approximately four thousand textiles from Masada, but only 129 have been published: Avigail Sheffer and Hero Granger-Taylor, “Textiles from Masada—A Preliminary Selection,” in Masada 4, The Yigael Yadin Excavation 1963–1965 (ed. Joseph Aviram, Gideon Foerster, and Ehud Netzer; Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1994), 174–226. 36 Avigail Sheffer, “Textiles from Tomb 2 at ʿEn Gedi,” ʿAtiqot 24 (1994): 66–68 [Hebrew]. 37 Yigael Yadin, The Finds from the Bar Kokhba Period in the Cave of Letters, (Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1963). 38 Pesah Bar-Adon, The Cave of the Treasure—The Finds from the Caves in Nahal Mishmar (Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1980). 39 Avigail Sheffer, “Bar Kokhba Period Textiles from Avior Cave,” in Refuge Caves of the Bar Kokhba Revolt (ed. Hanan Eshel and David Amit; Tel Aviv: Eretz, 1998), 169–81 [Hebrew]. 40 M. Levin and S. Horowitz, “Textiles Remains from the Caves of Nahal Hever,” ʿAtiqot 3 (1961): 163–64. 41 Grace Mary Crowfoot and Elizabeth Crowfoot, “The Textiles and Basketry,” in Discoveries in the Judaean Desert II: Les Grottes De Murabbaʿāt (ed. P. Benoit, J. T. Milik, and R. de Vaux; Oxford: Clarendon, 1961), 51–63. 42 Orit Shamir, “Textiles, Basketry, Cordage and Whorls from Moʾa (Moje Awad),” ʿAtiqot 50 (2005): 99–152. 43 Shamir, “Textile in the Land of Israel,” 178–79. 44 Orit Shamir, “Textiles, Basketry and Cordage from ʿEn Rahel,” ʿAtiqot 38 (1999): 91–124. 45 Shamir, “Textile in the Land of Israel,” 155.

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Table 1. Textile Materials from the Roman Period in the Land of Israel (in alphabetical order) Site Akeldama (burial) Avior Cave Cave of Letters Yadin Excavations Cave of Letters 2000–2001 Excavations Cave of the Treasure ʿEn Gedi (burial) ʿEn Gedi Cave 138 (H. Eshel, unpublished) ʿEn Rahel ʿEn Tamar (burial) Horbat Qazra Jebel Abu Saraj Cliff, Cave IV/12 Judean Desert Caves survey Masada* Moʾa Murabbaʿāt Nahal Hever Caves Pool Cave** Qumran Cave 1 Qumran Cave 11 QCC—Qumran Christmas Cave Shaʿar Ramon Wadi ed-Daliyeh (including Hellenistic period) Wadi el-Makkukh, Cave III-8 Total

No. of Textiles

Linen

Wool

2 13 92

1 9 35

1 3 57

276

20

256

25 70 1

24 70

1

98 133 1 9

7

8

37 129 333 86 8 15 71 58 184

27 12 66 17 3 11 71 58 63

10 105 248 68 5 4

10 55

1 36

8 12

21 1727

10 549

11 1101

Goat hair

Camel hair

Mixed

1

1 66 130 1 1

113

25 3

12 14 1

5

8

61

3

1 4

3

13

* Thousands of textiles from Masada have not yet been published. Their publication will probably add many more wool textiles to the total. ** Excavated recently by H. Cohen. The textiles have not been catalogued because they have not yet been cleaned.

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found,46 the percentage of linen is less than 35%, while in Qumran 100% of the textiles found were made of linen.47 The use of linen in the Qumran region is even more striking in light of Talmudic statements that flax was grown specifically in the Galilee region, while Judea was characterized by woolen textiles: “But they take garments of wool from the women in Judea and of linen in the Galilee” (b. B. Qam. 119a). Based on the absence of any articles made of wool among the assemblage of archaeological findings known at present, we may posit the deliberate eschewal of this raw material by the inhabitants of Qumran. In any case, it appears that the Qumran residents made a great effort to use only linen. The exclusive use of linen is noteworthy also in view of the fact that two sheep pens were found at the site of Qumran; therefore one might conjecture that Qumran residents raised sheep.48 It is probable that the wool was not intended for domestic use by the Qumran residents but was traded outside of Qumran and constituted a source of income for the local residents. 3.1.1 Decorated Textiles The homogeneous nature of the Qumran textiles was expressed not only in the use of the same raw material (linen) but also by the simplicity of the textiles. As mentioned previously, the Qumran textiles were free of any colored embellishment, except for those textiles that were used as scroll wrappers and featured a geometric pattern dyed in blue,49 which is not familiar from other sites. The lack of decoration on most of the textiles is understandable due to the fact that linen does not easily absorb dye, with the exception of the blue dye.50 It is remarkable nevertheless, in view of the

46

Ibid., 79. Ibid., 209–10. 48 Zeev Safrai and Hanan Eshel, “Economic Life,” in EDSS (ed. Lawrence H. Schiffman and James C. VanderKam; New York: Oxford University Press, 2000), 1:231. 49 Crowfoot, “The Linen Textiles,” 27–29. 50 Avigail Sheffer, “Ancient Textiles Decorated with Color from the Land of Israel,” in Colors from Nature: Natural Colors in Ancient Times (ed. C. Sorek and E. Ayalon; Tel- Aviv: Eretz Israel Museum, 1993), 66 [Hebrew]; Yigael Yadin, The Finds from the Bar Kokhba Period in the Cave of Letters, (Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1963), 271; Magness, The Archaeology of Qumran, 195; Precker proposed that linen was not dyed in order to distinguish it from the dyed wool textiles because of the Scriptural prohibition against wearing shaʿaṭnez (the combination of wool and linen); Precker, Vegetable Dyes and the Dyeing Industry, 15–16. 47


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fact that during the Hellenistic-Roman period, many textiles were decorated in a variety of colors. The most common and typical of these was a decoration called clavi. Tunics (haluq in the Mishnah and chiton in Greece) were decorated with bands descending from the shoulders on the back and front (clavi in Latin, imrah in Hebrew). In certain periods the widths of these bands designated the rank of the wearer of the garment. For example, Roman senators wore tunics with wide clavi. Since the width of the clavi indicated the wearer’s rank in society, the sectarians’ adoption of all-white clothing suggests a rejection of this society.51 An additional decoration that was used for mantles (an outer garment worn over a tunic; tallit in the Talmudic sources, himation in Greek and pallium in Latin for a specific type of mantle), is the H- or gamma-shaped pattern, which appears in a variety of colors, including red, brown, and purple.52 This decoration, which was customary in the Hellenistic world, appears on wool textiles from various sites from the Roman period, e.g., Wadi Murabbaʿāt,53 the Cave of Letters,54 Masada,55 Avior Cave,56 and at sites on the Spice Route: ʿEn Rahel,57 and Moʾa.58 The Qumran textiles, by comparison, have none of these decorations, not even on patches or on textiles in secondary use. Based on an examination of the textiles found in the collections of the IAA and from the catalogue of textiles in the studies carried out by Bélis, it is apparent that these decorations are entirely absent, and no evidence was found either of the use of dye or of the characteristic decorations.59 Two textiles from Qumran, Nos. 7 and 58, are decorated with selfbands.60 They could belong to garments like the child’s tunic from the Cave of The Letters,61 probably in secondary 51

Magness, The Archaeology of Qumran, 193–204. Yadin, Finds from the Bar Kokhba Period in the Cave of Letters, 213; Sheffer and Granger-Taylor, “Textiles from Masada,” 172–73. 53 Crowfoot and Crowfoot, “The Textiles and Basketry,” 51–52. 54 Yadin, The Finds from the Bar Kokhba Period in the Cave of Letters, 204–11. 55 Sheffer and Granger-Taylor, “Textiles from Masada,” 172–73. 56 Sheffer, “Bar Kokhba Period Textiles,” 175. 57 Orit Shamir, “Textiles, Basketry and Cordage from ʿEn Rahel,” 199. 58 Orit Shamir, “Textiles, Basketry, Cordage and Whorls from Moʾa (Moje Awad),” 103. 59 Bélis, “Des Textiles,” 212–18. 60 Crowfoot, “The Linen Textiles,” 30, 37; selfband: A group of weft threads in a single shed: Sheffer and Granger-Taylor, “Textiles from Masada,” 164. 61 Yadin, The Finds from the Bar Kokhba Period in the Cave of Letters, 257–58, textile No. 65–7.62. 52

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use. Selfbands are an ancient decorative method found only on linen textiles and common in local assemblages: the Cave of Letters,62 Murabbaʿāt,63 Wadi ed-Daliyeh,64 Masada,65 Avior Cave.66 This decorative technique made it possible to achieve a band typical to the Roman tunic, without using colored wool and avoiding shaʿaṭnez.67 3.2

Secondary use of textiles in Qumran

The textile findings from Qumran provide an insight regarding the clothing that was worn by the members of the community. From the dozens of linen textiles from Qumran, and from the absence of wool findings at the site, we may infer that the clothing of the people of Qumran was made exclusively of linen and that when these linen garments were worn, the fabric was put to secondary use. Most of the textile remains found at Qumran, except for the blue decorated scroll wrappers, were not originally produced for the purpose of covering jars or protecting scrolls, but were cut from larger pieces of textile which were originally intended as apparel. In antiquity, intensive efforts were expended for the production of even a single textile. This was an exceedingly time-consuming and labor-intensive process which included many separate tasks, as one can appreciate from the Talmudic statement: “and how many labors Adam had to carry out before he obtained a garment to wear! He had to shear, wash [the wool], comb it, and weave it, and then at last he obtained a garment to wear” (b. Ber. 58a). Despite the fact that the Land of Israel was considered an important textile center,68 in view of statements in the Talmud, it appears that linen garments were expensive (b. Pesaḥ . 109a). Therefore, textiles were too costly to throw away. When a garment could no longer be 62

Ibid. Crowfoot and Crowfoot, “The Textiles and Basketry,” textiles No. 78, 80, 83, 84–89. 64 Elisabeth Crowfoot, “Textiles,” in Discoveries in the Wâdi ed-Dâliyeh (ed. Paul W. Lapp and Nancy L. Lapp; AASOR 41; Cambridge, Mass.: 1974), 69–72, No. 13, 29, 30 65 Sheffer and Granger-Taylor, “Textiles from Masada,” 163–64,174–76, textiles No. 9A, 22A,102A. 66 Sheffer, “Bar Kokhba Period Textiles,” 176, no 1. 67 Yadin, The Finds from the Bar Kokhba Period in the Cave of Letters, 211, 254. 68 Zeev Safrai, The Economy of Roman Palestine (London: Routledge, 1994), 201. 63


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mended, it was cut into pieces which were used as patches, or was remade into another garment.69 Due to the cost of new clothes, there would have been a flourishing secondary use clothing industry.70 According to the Mishnah, when a garment went out of use it was used in secondary use as a towel for cleaning (m. Šabb. 21:2), a stopper (m. Parah 19:2), or a bandage (m. Šabb. 19:2), so as to fully utilize the raw material. At Timgad (now northeastern Algeria), an inscription mentions a forum vestiarium adiutricianum, which apparently means a secondary or auxiliary cloth market.71 It is likely that this industry was also widespread in the Land of Israel.72 Functional textiles such as jar covers, sacks, and the like, were devoid of decoration as not much labor was invested in their making. Those textiles were woven in an entirely different manner called basket weave (coarse extended tabby weave).73 Examples can be seen in the sacks from Masada,74 and in the sacks from the Cave of The Letters75and Murabbaʿāt.76 However, unlike these dedicated functional textiles, it appears that the textiles which were found in Qumran and which were put to functional use were cut from various articles of clothing. As can be seen in the following examples, the textiles from Crowfoot’s Group 2 include textiles decorated with fringes, which are not commonly used in functional textiles and therefore seem likely to have been cut from an article of clothing.77 In addition, the textiles from Group 3 include textiles in their final use, which most likely served as jar covers. It is hard to believe that they were made specifically for such a purpose due to their appearance.78 69

Ulla Mannering, “The Roman Tradition of Weaving and Sewing: A Guide to Function?” Archaeological Textiles Newsletter 30 (2000): 12–15. 70 Alexandra T. Croom, Roman Clothing and Fashion (Charleston; Tempus 2002), 24–25. 71 Andrew Wilson, “Urban Production in the Roman World: the View from North Africa,” Papers of the British School at Rome 60 (2001): 231–73 at 237, 241. 72 Shamir, “Textile in the Land of Israel,” 274–75. 73 Two threads are taken in place of one in both warp and weft. 74 Sheffer and Granger-Taylor, “Textiles from Masada,” 175–77 75 Yadin, The Finds from the Bar Kokhba Period in the Cave of Letters, 259, 261, 264. 76 Crowfoot and Crowfoot, “The Textiles and Basketry,” 59 no. 90 77 E.g., Textile Nos. 35, 39: Crowfoot, “The Linen Textiles,” 19. 78 E.g., Textile Nos. 15, 69: Crowfoot, ibid., 19; see also Joan E. Taylor et al., “Qumran Textiles in the Palestine Exploration Fund, London: Radiocarbon Dating Results,” PEQ 137 (2005): 159–67 at 161.

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Further evidence that some of the textiles from Qumran were originally produced as garments, and were found in a state of secondary use, may be adduced from the fact that some of them had been bleached. No. 15, for example, is a bleached textile. Bleaching was a long process intended to whiten linen textiles, which are naturally of a grey-brown color. The textiles were soaked in cleaning and whitening chemicals and were then exposed to the sun for weeks, during which time they became white.79 The long duration of the bleaching process leads to the likely conclusion that bleached textiles that were used as jar covers, such as No. 15, were in their secondary use. The lack of bleaching on textiles that were made into sacks, which were found at other sites such as Masada,80 the Cave of the Letters,81 and Murabbaʿāt,82 serves as proof that the bleached fabrics from Qumran were originally made for clothing. Most of the textiles from Qumran are of a high standard. Although the threads in the fabrics are not of uniform thickness, the spinning is of high quality since there are no weaving faults, and the number of threads per centimeter does not change. When found in secondary use, the quality of finishing differs: the edges of the jar covers are not finished in a uniform manner. The stitches are irregular, coarse, and uneven in size, and the intervals between the stitches are irregular, all attesting to an unskilled or careless hand, which points to reworking for secondary use. The exceptional items in the findings are the textiles that are decorated with blue decorations. Therefore, these items appear to have been made expressly as scroll wrappers. The scroll wrappers were made particularly for this purpose and were not reused in secondary use. 3.3 Origins of the textiles found at Qumran The high quality of the textiles from Qumran indicates that they were not products of home industry, but rather they were professionally manufactured. It is thus likely that they were not produced locally by the inhabitants of Qumran itself. Although the material from de Vaux’s excavations was not published in a final report, de Vaux’s published field notes include 79

Forbes, Studies in Ancient Technology 4, 95. Sheffer and Granger-Taylor, “Textiles from Masada,”175–7. 81 Yadin, The Finds from the Bar Kokhba Period in the Cave of Letters, 259, 261, 264. 82 Crowfoot and Crowfoot, “The Textiles and Basketry,” 59 no. 90. 80


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lists of the object found in each locus.83 From this list we know about only two spindle whorls—indications of spinning that were found in Qumran.84 One of the whorls is from level III so it is not associated with the sectarian settlement at Qumran.85 This item is the only one associated with spinning and it cannot indicate household weaving or industry. Furthermore, this item could have been used for other purposes. A few items in this list were described as clay balls.86 Without an illustration of these objects and in the absence of a final report, it is impossible to determine whether these objects were used as loomweights.87 Objections have been raised to the interpretation of “clay balls” as loomweights.88 In summary, spindle whorls—indications of spinning, and loom weights, i.e., indications of weaving, were not found at Qumran. Furthermore, Y. Magen in his recent excavations also did not find such items. Nonetheless they were found at nearby sites such as Masada and ʿEn Gedi and in almost every other site of the Roman period in the Land of Israel.89 When considering the origin of the fabrics, we must exclude any Egyptian importation to Qumran. Egypt had a highly developed linen industry,90 and its textiles were characterized by thinner threads and by a higher degree of weaving density than that of the textiles found at Qumran. Furthermore, some of the fabrics from Qumran were made with

83

Jean-Baptiste Humbert and Alain Chambon, Fouilles de Khirbet Qumran et de Aïn Feshkha I (Fribourg: Editions universitaires, 1994). 84 Humbert and Chambon, Fouilles, no. 633 p. 294 and no. 633 p. 294. 85 Jodi Magness, Debating Qumran Collected Essays on Its Archaeology (Leuven: Peeters, 2004), 123. 86 Humbert and Chambon, Fouilles, nos. 140, 407, 422, 428, 656, 1142, 1434, 1515, 1516, 1525, 1569, 195, 1657, 1658, 2446, 2036, 2067, 2020, 2521, 2075, 2110, 2134, 2236, 2209, 2272, 2300, 2279, 2283, 2574, 2362, 2392. 87 Magness, Debating Qumran, 145. 88 All the other suggestions for their use are mentioned at: Orit Shamir, “Loomweights and Whorls,” in Excavations at the City of David 1978-85, Directed by Yigal Shiloh Volume IV (ed. Donald T. Ariel; QEDEM 35; Jerusalem, Israel Exploration Society, 1996), 142–43. 89 Orit Shamir, “Loomweights from Masada,” in Masada 4, The Yigael Yadin Excavation 1963–1965 (ed. Joseph Aviram, Gideon Foerster, and Ehud Netzer; Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1994), 265–82. 90 Rosalind Hall, Egyptian Textiles (London: Shire Publiations, 1986); Zohar Amar, “Written Sources Regarding the Jaziret Fara’un (Coral Island) Textiles,” ʿAtiqot 36 (1998): 114–19.

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a warp-weighted loom which was not used in Egypt.91 In addition, we can presume that due to the laws of shaʿaṭnez,92 the fabrics were bought from Jews, most likely from the northern weaving centers of Israel such as the one at Beth Sheʾan, which specialized in linen weaving. The minimal patching of the fabrics found at Qumran also provides significant evidence of the inhabitants’ economic status. Only a few patched textiles were found at sites along the Spice Route such as ʿEn Rahel93 and Moʾa,94 however, they were common at Wadi Murabbaʿāt where, although the textiles were of excellent quality, they were heavily patched and re-patched,95 and in the Cave of the Letters, where most of the tunics that were found had been mended.96 In Qumran only one textile, a scroll wrapper, was patched while the rest do not bear any sign of mending.

4. Comparison of the Findings to Written Sources In the discussion below, we follow the still dominant theory associating the inhabitants of the site of Qumran with the Essenes described by Josephus and Philo.97 The archeological findings, which show the eschewal of dyed wool and the simplicity of the textiles from Qumran, are compatible with the literary sources that describe the clothing of the Essenes. In his description of the Essenes, Josephus wrote: “Riches they despise . . . for they make a point of keeping a dry skin and always being dressed in white” ( J.W. 2.122). Also, “in their dress and deportment they resemble children under rigorous discipline. They do not change their garments or shoes 91

Hall, Egyptian Textiles. Mixed linen and wool in a single garment: Deut 22:11; Lev 19:19. 93 Shamir, “Textiles, Basketry and Cordage from ʿEn Rahel,” 94. 94 Shamir, “Textiles, Basketry, Cordage and Whorls from Moʾa,” 110. 95 Crowfoot and Crowfoot, “The Textiles and Basketry,” 52. 96 For example, textiles No. 7–2.33, 8–2.39, 10–2.27: Yadin, The Finds from the Bar Kokhba Period in the Cave of Letters, 212–14. 97 For a recent discussion of the current state of the “consensus” theory identifying Qumran with the Essenes, see the articles by Florentino García Martínez, Charlotte Hempel, Eyal Regev, and James C. VanderKam, in Section 1, “Identity and History of the Community,” in The Dead Sea Scrolls and Contemporary Culture: Proceedings of the International Conference held at the Israel Museum, Jerusalem ( July 6–8, 2008) (ed. Adolfo Roitman, Lawrence H. Schiffman, and Shani Tzoref; Leiden: Brill, 2010), 17–76. 92


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until they are torn to shreds or worn threadbare with age” ( J.W. 2.126). Philo described the collective nature of their dress: “And not only is their table in common but their clothing also” (Hypoth. 11.12). The archeological finds indeed seem to reinforce what both Josephus and Philo wrote, that their habitual clothing was the same for everyone and it was characterized by simplicity and a lack of colored ornamentation. One may conjecture that the inhabitants of Qumran wore the same kind of clothing that was accepted in the Roman Period, consisting of the two articles of apparel mentioned above: the tunic, a shirt-like garment, referred to in Mishnaic literature as haluk, and the palium, known in Hebrew as the tallit.98 Yet at the same time, they broke away from the accepted conventions of clothing in their region by eschewing the use of color and rigorously observing rules pertaining to personal modesty.

5. Sectarian Clothing and the Anti-Hellenistic Approach By joining the archaeological finds with the textual sources, an image emerges of a group that separated itself from the Jewish population not only by physical distance but also by its outward appearance.99 The inhabitants abstained from using the Hellenistic symbols that were accepted among the general Jewish population. Jodi Magness describes the extreme anti-Hellenistic stance of the Qumran Community in a number of spheres, such as abstaining from anointing the body with oil, as Josephus noted when he described the Essenes ( J.W. 2.122); building in an architectural style that had no Hellenistic hallmarks; and even avoiding writing scrolls in the Greek language.100 Philo may have been reflecting a similar antithetical relationship between the Essenes and Hellenists, when he wrote: “Before the sun shines, they turn their faces to their customary crafts and leave them only when the sun sets and their happiness is no less than those who take part in athletic competitions” (Hypoth. 11.12). One purpose of the abstention from Hellenistic garments on the part of the Qumran Community must have been a 98

Orit Shamir and Alisa Baginski, “Research of Ancient Textiles Discovered in Israel,” Qadmoniot 115 (1998): 53–62 at 57–58 [Hebrew]; Magness, The Archaeology of Qumran, 195. 99 Magness, The Archaeology of Qumran, 196. 100 Ibid., 202–6.

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rejection of Hellenism. It is further likely that their distinctive clothing was intended to separate them not only from the Hellenistic population, but also from the rest of the Jewish population. It seems that the community members strictly enforced their uniform. The common garb distinguished them and allowed them a shared identity, as is common today among sects and monks throughout the world.101 This reinforced the identity of the individuals as members of the group.102 An additional reinforcement for the sectarianism in the Qumran inhabitants’ style of clothing was reflected in the kardom, the object described by Josephus which was used by the Essene community for digging a pit after relieving themselves: “a small hatchet, the loin-cloth already mentioned, and white raiment” ( J.W. 2.137).103 The preference for linen may also be grounded in a number of other factors. A similar preference for using linen over wool is mentioned in Philostratus’ Life of Apollonius, who presents a religious worldview according to which people refrained from wearing woolen garments while praying or bringing sacrifices, because the source of the material was taken from living creatures and by this God’s creation was demeaned.104 This worldview may have constituted the basis for the use of linen at Qumran. Moreover, scrupulous insistence upon the use of linen by the Qumran Community may be connected to the prohibition against shaʿaṭ nez. This conjecture is supported by one of the archaeological finds: 101

For examples in the Mennonites, Amish, and Quakers sects see Eyal Regev, Sectarianism in Qumran (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2007), 51–57; For the Essenes as introversionist sect, separating from the world, see ibid., 243–48; idem, “The Archaeology of the Sectarianism: Ritual, Resistance and Hierarchy in Kh. Qumran,” RevQ 22/94 (2009): 175–215. 102 Albert I. Baumgarten, “He Knew that He Knew that He Knew that He was an Essene,” JJS 48 (1997): 53–61 at 55. 103 For further information on how the Essenes separated themselves from the rest of the Jewish population by the way they dressed see Baumgarten, “He Knew that He Knew.” Eibert J. C. Tigchelaar, “The White Dress of the Essenes and the Pythagoreans,” in Jerusalem, Alexandria, Roma: Studies in Ancient Cultural Interaction in Honour of A. Hilhorst (ed. Florentino García Martínez and Gerard P. Luttikhuizen; Leiden, Brill: 2003), 301–21, presents numerous possible reasons for the white dress of the Essenes, and determines that the most convincing explanation is that this was an act of anti-Hellenistic expression. Our analysis supports his conclusions. 104 Philostratus, The Life of Apollonius 7.5, 7. On the perception of Philostratus and the white garments of Pythagoreans and other reasons for wearing white see Tigchelaar, ibid., 302–6.


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one of the scroll coverings at Qumran was patched. The patch was sewed with linen thread.105 The rabbis explicitly permit the use of other materials for this purpose, as is documented in the context of scroll coverings: “Hand-towels, scroll-wrappings . . . do not come under the prohibition of kil ʾayim” (m. Kil. 9:3). The linen thread used for the patch may offer evidence of a stricter view of the halakah at Qumran. In any event, the anti-Hellenist worldview espoused by the inhabitants of Qumran is in opposition to the conventional practices of society where the shape of the garment, the colors, and the origin of the garment attested to the status and financial power of the wearer. As noted above, the Qumran textiles were free of these characteristic markings, and it does not appear that the markings were absent simply because it was difficult to dye linen.106 It is likely that in this way they expressed their ideological perception as described by Josephus regarding the Qumran inhabitants: “Riches they despise” ( J.W. 2.122). Moreover, Josephus emphasized the equality in dress among all members of the group: “He will at no time whatever abuse his authority, nor endeavor to outshine his subjects, either in his garments, or any other finery” ( J.W. 2.140).

Conclusion In conclusion, it may be claimed that although the study of the Qumran textile has not been completed, the inhabitants of Qumran clearly and deliberately abstained from the use of wool as a raw material, even though wool was known and used widely throughout the Hellenistic-Roman region. The archaeological and textile finds are compatible, and we have argued that the inhabitants of Qumran wished to separate themselves from the Jewish population not only spiritually but also in their style of dress. It may be conjectured that the motive lies within the anti-Hellenistic attitude of the group, together with religious and ideological motives. Our analysis reinforces the belief that the society at Qumran was sectarian, possessing a distinctive style of dress shared by members of the community.107 It is to be hoped that future research on the Qumran textiles will shed further light on this subject. 105

Textile No. 464131. Sheffer, Colors, 66. 107 Daniel R. Schwartz, “The Judean Desert Sect and the Essenes,” in Kister, ed., The Qumran Scrolls and their World, 601–12 [Hebrew]. 106


brill.nl/dsd

Examining the Reception and Impact of the Dead Sea Scrolls: Some Possibilities for Future Investigation Matthew A. Collins University of Bristol [email protected]

Abstract The last sixty years afford us a remarkable, though largely unexplored, opportunity to examine the Dead Sea Scrolls from the perspective of “reception history.” This article first provides an overview of what has already been done with regard to this goal and highlights the importance and timeliness of such an approach, suggesting that it is furthermore a necessary endeavor if Qumran Studies is to keep pace with developments in the wider world of Biblical Studies. It continues by outlining some possible directions for future investigation, identifying academic reception, popular reception, and processes of knowledge transfer as three main areas or categories into which such examinations could helpfully be divided. The internal processes of scrolls scholarship, the relationship between Qumran Studies and Biblical Studies, gender issues, the scrolls in literature, film, music, and art, and the role of exhibitions, documentaries, and newspapers, are all highlighted as potential areas for future research. Keywords Dead Sea Scrolls; reception history; popular culture; media; exhibitions

1. Introduction More than sixty years have passed since the discovery by a Bedouin shepherd of the first “Dead Sea Scrolls,” 2,000-year-old manuscripts that were set to cause excitement and controversy both throughout the academic world and within popular culture. Ever since, they have been (perceived as) shrouded in intrigue and mystery, and have consequently ignited public interest, thus having an impact reaching beyond simply the realms of © Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2011

DOI: 10.1163/156851711X582541

M. A. Collins / Dead Sea Discoveries 18 (2011) 226–246

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academia. In particular, years of restricted access to the scrolls and the painfully-slow publication process, coupled with the secretive “closeddoor” policy of the early editors, ensured widespread speculation as to their contents and an infamy within the wider world that remains to this day.1 Even with all of the material now freely available, and the conspiracy theorists somewhat disappointed, the scrolls continue to be a source of fascination, not simply for scholars (who see in them a window through to the late Second Temple period and its textual diversity), but for the public alike, for whom “the Dead Sea Scrolls” constitutes a cultural “buzz-phrase” signifying mystery, conspiracy, and ancient or hidden knowledge.2 The particular circumstances surrounding the modern discovery, dissemination, and appropriation of the scrolls afford us a remarkable, though largely unexplored, opportunity to examine the Dead Sea Scrolls from the perspective of “reception history.” This approach has, over the past two decades, come to play an ever more important role within Biblical Studies, supplementing “classic historical questions about the conditions and circumstances of the Bible’s origins” with examinations of its reception, influence, and impact.3 In addition to numerous individual studies, the creation of a number of academic centers and programs specializing in biblical reception (e.g., at Oxford, Sheffield, Bristol, Birmingham, Copenhagen, Duquesne, and Boston)4 and the publication of reference tools such as 1

For the struggle over access to the scrolls, see initially Lawrence H. Schiffman, “The Many Battles of the Scrolls,” JRH 26 (2002): 157–78. For a fuller discussion, see Weston W. Fields, The Dead Sea Scrolls: A Full History (vol. 1; Leiden: Brill, 2009 [vol. 2 forthcoming]); cf. Weston W. Fields, The Dead Sea Scrolls: A Short History (Leiden: Brill, 2006). 2 So too Sidnie White Crawford: “in the popular imagination, the very name conjures up scandal, intrigue and mystery” (“The Dead Sea Scrolls: Retrospective and Prospective,” Near Eastern Archaeology 65.1 [2002]: 81–86 at 81). See further, Maxine L. Grossman and Catherine M. Murphy, eds., The Dead Sea Scrolls in the Popular Imagination (= DSD 12.1; 2005). 3 See the introduction to Hans-Josef Klauck et al., eds., Encyclopedia of the Bible and its Reception (vol. 1; Berlin/New York: Walter de Gruyter, 2009), ix–xi at x. Also, W. John Lyons and Jo Carruthers, An Introduction to the Reception of the Bible (London: Continuum, forthcoming). 4 “Centre for Reception History of the Bible” (University of Oxford, UK; www.crhb.org/index.html); “Centre for the Study of the Bible in the Modern World” (University of Sheffield, UK; www.shef.ac.uk/bibs/modernworld); “Centre

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John F. A. Sawyer’s A Concise Dictionary of the Bible and its Reception, Oxford University Press’ The Oxford Handbook of the Reception History of the Bible, Sheffield Phoenix Press’ forthcoming Dictionary of the Bible and Western Culture, Wiley-Blackwell’s The Blackwell Companion to the Bible and Culture, and De Gruyter’s mammoth Encyclopedia of the Bible and its Reception, have firmly established biblical reception as an important and significant branch of Biblical Studies.5 Interestingly, this particular perspective incorporates, of course, not only modern reception of the Bible but its influence and impact throughout the entire transmission history of the biblical texts, including the reception of those texts within the Dead Sea Scrolls.6 While this latter area may be one that scrolls scholars are more used to exploring (i.e., studies focusing on “the Bible” at Qumran), the same “reception history” perspective may be applied to Qumran Studies itself, resulting in examinations of the modern reception, influence, and impact for Christianity and Culture” (University of Bristol, UK; http://www.bristol.ac. uk/thrs/research-centres/christiancentre); “Newman Research Centre for the Bible and its Reception” (Newman University College, Birmingham, UK; http://www. newman.ac.uk/research/biblicalstudies/?pg=2027); “Centre for the Study of the Bible in Theology and Culture” (University of Copenhagen, Denmark; www.teol. ku.dk/english/dept/csbb); “Colloquium on the Reception History of the Bible” (Duquesne University, Penn., USA; http://www.duq.edu/theology/receptionhistory); “Luce Program in Scripture and Literary Arts” (Boston University, Mass., USA; http://www.bu.edu/luce/mission/index.html). 5 John F. A. Sawyer, A Concise Dictionary of the Bible and its Reception (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2009); Michael Lieb et al., eds., The Oxford Handbook of the Reception History of the Bible (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011); Michael J. Gilmour and Mary A. Beavis, eds., Dictionary of the Bible and Western Culture (Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix Press, forthcoming 2011); John F. A. Sawyer, ed., The Blackwell Companion to the Bible and Culture (Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell, 2006); Hans-Josef Klauck et al., eds., Encyclopedia of the Bible and its Reception (30 vols.; Berlin/New York: Walter de Gruyter, 2009–). Also worthy of note are the Blackwell Bible Commentaries series (Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell, 2003–) and the Bible in the Modern World series (Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix Press, 2004–), both focusing specifically on biblical reception. 6 Note, for instance, the extensive number of sub-articles in the Encyclopedia of the Bible and its Reception (EBR) concerning the reception, influence, and interpretation of biblical texts and themes within Second Temple and Hellenistic Judaism.


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of the Dead Sea Scrolls. An investigation of this type has the potential to map the origins and development of ideas about the scrolls and would provide valuable insights into the (often unconscious) influences at work within scrolls scholarship. Equally, it would allow us to both track and evaluate the wider impact of the Dead Sea Scrolls, noting in particular the manner and extent of their permeation into popular culture. It is, furthermore, a necessary endeavor if Qumran Studies is to keep pace with developments in the wider world of Biblical Studies. Accordingly, this article will first provide a brief overview of what has already been done with regard to this goal, and then continue by outlining some possible directions for future investigation, setting out research objectives and highlighting potentially fruitful lines of enquiry.

2. Examining the Influence and Impact of the Dead Sea Scrolls Over the past sixty or more years since the first discoveries were made, tens of thousands of books and articles have been written on the scrolls.7 As one might expect, the vast majority of these have as their focus the scrolls themselves, their content and context, and what they can tell us about the past. By contrast, the “reception history” approach takes another step backward from the primary material and focuses instead on our own responses to the scrolls and what this can tell us about ourselves. Thus, it is 7

For 1948 to 1957, see William S. LaSor, Bibliography of the Dead Sea Scrolls, 1948–1957 (Pasadena: Fuller Theological Seminary, 1958). For 1958 to 1969, see Bastiaan Jongeling, A Classified Bibliography of the Finds in the Desert of Judah, 1958–1969 (STDJ 7; Leiden: Brill, 1971). For 1970 to 1995, see Florentino García Martínez and Donald W. Parry, A Bibliography of the Finds in the Desert of Judah, 1970–95 (STDJ 19; Leiden: Brill, 1996). For 1995 to 2000, see Avital Pinnick, The Orion Center Bibliography of the Dead Sea Scrolls (1995–2000) (STDJ 41; Leiden: Brill, 2001). For 2000 to 2006, see Ruth A. Clements and Nadav Sharon, The Orion Center Bibliography of the Dead Sea Scrolls and Associated Literature (2000–2006) (STDJ 71; Leiden: Brill, 2007). For subsequent works (covering 1995 to present), see the online bibliography at the Orion Center (http://orion.mscc.huji.ac.il/). Cf. Hartmut Stegemann, “Qumran Challenges for the Next Century,” in The Dead Sea Scrolls: Fifty Years After Their Discovery, 1947– 1997 (ed. L. H. Schiffman, E. Tov, and J. C. VanderKam; Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 2000), 944–50 at 944; E. Tov, “Five Decades of Discoveries, Editions, and Research,” ibid., 951–60.

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the reception and appropriation of the scrolls (rather than the scrolls themselves) which becomes the subject of scrutiny. Although most studies concerning the scrolls belong to the former “traditional” category, there are a small but growing number which do indeed reflect the latter “scrolls scholars once-removed” perspective. For instance, Edna Ullmann-Margalit’s book, Out of the Cave: A Philosophical Inquiry into the Dead Sea Scrolls Research, takes as its subject matter, in her own words, “not the scrolls but the study of the scrolls; . . . research about scrolls research.”8 In it she examines the formation and maintenance of the Qumran-Essene hypothesis from the perspective of scientific theory formation in general, assessing the relationship and interaction between competitive theories within Qumran Studies and the development of a “default” position, thus shedding light upon the inner workings and dynamics of scrolls scholarship itself.9 Further examples might include those works which attempt to provide a rather reflective history of scrolls scholarship, simultaneously offering both a historical account of events and exploring the rationale and motivations which lay behind them. Here we might mention Jason Kalman and Jaqueline S. du Toit’s recent volume, Canada’s Big Biblical Bargain: How McGill University bought the Dead Sea Scrolls, and Weston W. Fields’ twovolume work, The Dead Sea Scrolls: A Full History (of which the first volume has already appeared), both of which record the relevant “oral history” (the result of interviews with those who were involved with the discovery and publication of the scrolls) and engage in archival work, uncovering and presenting the “unofficial” written records pertaining to their impact upon the scholarly world (e.g., in the form of “personal letters and papers” made available to the authors).10 As Fields observes, “there is frequently a 8

Edna Ullmann-Margalit, Out of the Cave: A Philosophical Inquiry into the Dead Sea Scrolls Research (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 2006), 17 (my italics). 9 Also, Edna Ullmann-Margalit, “Writings, Ruins and Their Reading: The Dead Sea Discoveries as a Case Study in Theory Formation and Scientific Interpretation,” Social Research 65 (1998): 839–70; Edna Ullmann-Margalit, “Spotlight on Scroll Scholars: Dissecting the Qumran-Essene Hypothesis,” BAR 34.2 (2008): 63–67. 10 Jason Kalman and Jaqueline S. du Toit, Canada’s Big Biblical Bargain: How McGill University bought the Dead Sea Scrolls (Montreal: McGill-Queens University Press, 2010); cf. Jaqueline S. du Toit and Jason Kalman, “Great Scott! The


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skewed view of who made what important decisions, or took significant actions, even of when, and why.”11 In a somewhat related manner, a few studies have already been made which attempt to utilize the checkered history of Dead Sea Scrolls scholarship in order to address the more general issue of copyright and intellectual property in modern academia. In particular, David Nimmer’s Copyright in the Dead Sea Scrolls: Authorship and Originality, Raphael Israeli’s Piracy in Qumran, and Timothy H. Lim, Hector L. MacQueen, and Calum M. Carmichael’s edited volume, On Scrolls, Artefacts and Intellectual Property, all have as their focus not the scrolls themselves but the influence and impact they have had upon our society.12 Specifically, the ways in which, in the light of the Qimron v. Shanks copyright case, their discovery has had an effect reaching beyond the world of Biblical or Jewish Studies alone, and has come so far as to influence legal discussions and the world of copyright law, forcing us to address new questions about intellectual property in relation to the study and reconstruction of ancient texts.13 Another area which has been explored is, in contrast to the reception of the Bible within the scrolls (mentioned above), instead the ways in which our readings of the scrolls have come to alter our readings of the Bible itself. That is to say, not the historical-literary influence of the biblical texts upon the scrolls, but, in the other direction, the influence of the scrolls upon our approach to the Bible. This is perhaps closer in many ways to traditional Qumran Studies yet nevertheless indicative of an approach Dead Sea Scrolls, McGill University, and the Canadian Media,” DSD 12 (2005): 6–23. Fields, The Dead Sea Scrolls: A Full History; cf. Fields, The Dead Sea Scrolls: A Short History, 9–13. See also, Jason Kalman, “Optimistic, Even with the Negatives: The Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion and the Dead Sea Scrolls, 1948–1993,” American Jewish Archives Journal 61 (2009): 1–114. 11 Fields, The Dead Sea Scrolls: A Full History, 1:17. 12 David Nimmer, Copyright in the Dead Sea Scrolls: Authorship and Originality (Houston Law Review 38.1; 2001); Raphael Israeli, Piracy in Qumran: The Battle Over the Scrolls of the Pre-Christ Era (New Brunswick: Transaction Publishers, 2008); Timothy H. Lim, Hector L. MacQueen, and Calum M. Carmichael, eds., On Scrolls, Artefacts and Intellectual Property (JSPS 38; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2001). 13 For Qimron v. Shanks, see Nimmer, Copyright in the Dead Sea Scrolls, 50–82, and Lim, MacQueen, and Carmichael, On Scrolls, Artefacts and Intellectual Property, 231–58. A more general discussion of the case is provided in Israeli, Piracy in Qumran.

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focused specifically upon the reception and influence of the scrolls. Here one might mention, by way of example, George J. Brooke’s article “The Qumran Scrolls and the Demise of the Distinction between Higher and Lower Criticism,” Stephen C. Daley’s “Textual Influence of the Qumran Scrolls on English Bible Versions,” James A. Sanders’ “The Impact of the Scrolls on Biblical Studies,” and Harold P. Scanlin’s “Text, Truth and Tradition: The Public’s View of the Bible in the Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls.”14 This specific theme, the significance of the scrolls for Biblical Studies, is something we shall return to later. One final publication that should certainly be mentioned is issue 12.1 of Dead Sea Discoveries, edited by Maxine L. Grossman and Catherine M. Murphy and titled The Dead Sea Scrolls in the Popular Imagination. This incredible collection of articles is the result of a special session held at the SBL Annual Meeting in Toronto in 2002, dedicated to the analysis of popular interest in the scrolls.15 All of the contributions examine, from diverse angles, the public’s fascination with the scrolls, their status as “pop phenomenon,” and, above all, the complex four-way relationship between scrolls, media, academics, and the public.16 The dynamics involved in this 14

George J. Brooke, “The Qumran Scrolls and the Demise of the Distinction Between Higher and Lower Criticism,” in New Directions in Qumran Studies (ed. J. G. Campbell, W. J. Lyons, and L. K. Pietersen; LSTS 52; London: Continuum, 2005), 26–42; Stephen C. Daley, “Textual Influence of the Qumran Scrolls on English Bible Versions,” in The Bible as Book: The Hebrew Bible and the Judaean Desert Discoveries (ed. E. D. Herbert and E. Tov; London: The British Library, 2002), 253–87; James A. Sanders, “The Impact of the Scrolls on Biblical Studies,” in The Provo International Conference on the Dead Sea Scrolls (ed. D. W. Parry and E. Ulrich; Leiden: Brill, 1999), 47–57; Harold P. Scanlin, “Text, Truth and Tradition: The Public’s View of the Bible in the Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in Herbert and Tov, The Bible as Book: The Hebrew Bible and the Judaean Desert Discoveries, 289–99. 15 See Maxine L. Grossman and Catherine M. Murphy, “Introduction: The Dead Sea Scrolls in the Popular Imagination,” DSD 12 (2005): 1–5. 16 Jaqueline S. du Toit and Jason Kalman, “Great Scott! The Dead Sea Scrolls, McGill University, and the Canadian Media,” 6–23; Lawrence H. Schiffman, “Inverting Reality: The Dead Sea Scrolls in the Popular Media,” 24–37; George J. Brooke, “The Scrolls in the British Media (1987–2002),” 38–51; Ruth Clements, “On the Fringe at the Center: Close Encounters between ‘Popular Culture’ and the Orion Center for the Study of the Dead Sea Scrolls,” 52–67; Maxine L. Grossman, “Mystery or History: The Dead Sea Scrolls as Pop Phenomenon,” 68–86;


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intricate (often tense) relationship, are key to understanding the multifaceted reception of the scrolls within both the academic and popular spheres, as well as the interaction between the two. Thus, the foundations have been laid for a more systematic and widespread examination of the Dead Sea Scrolls from the perspective of reception history. Whether consciously or not, and perhaps even as a result of current trends in Biblical Studies, some Qumran scholars have already begun to engage in research which leans in this direction.17 The terrain, however, remains largely unexplored. Let us therefore turn now to considerations of how the field might best move forward and make some recommendations regarding areas and methods of future investigation.

3. Reception History and the Dead Sea Scrolls I would like to propose that there are three main areas or categories into which future examinations of the reception and impact of the scrolls could helpfully be divided: a) The first of these is the reception of the scrolls within the academic sphere; their influence and impact within academia itself. b) The second is popular reception of the scrolls; their impact within popular culture and as seen through a non-academic lens. c) The third category, which both overlaps with and yet is quite clearly separate from the preceding two, is what we shall refer to as “knowledge transfer”; that is, the educational and informative processes which are taking place, primarily (or ostensibly) in the direction from the academic sphere to the popular sphere.

Jeffrey H. Mahan, “The Dead Sea Scrolls in Popular Culture: ‘I Can Give You No Idea of the Contents,’” 87–94; Mark Silk, “Why the Papers Love the Scrolls,” 95–100. 17 Note, for instance, “The Dead Sea Scrolls and Contemporary Culture: Celebrating 60 Years of Discovery,” a conference held in Jerusalem, July 6–8, 2008. The proceedings of this meeting have recently been published: Adolfo D. Roitman, Lawrence H. Schiffman, and Shani Tzoref, eds., The Dead Sea Scrolls and Contemporary Culture: Proceedings of the International Conference held at the Israel Museum, Jerusalem (July 6–8, 2008) (STDJ 93; Leiden: Brill, 2011).

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Each of these categories contains a wide diversity of sub-areas worthy of further investigation and thus numerous possible lines of enquiry. I shall simply attempt here to highlight, in each case, a number of key areas which, in terms of advancing the field, seem either most pressing or potentially the most rewarding. a) Academic Reception of the Scrolls Our first category, the academic reception of the scrolls, is in itself a vast topic, taking as its focus, not the scrolls themselves, but our own responses to them and the ways in which they have influenced and impacted upon academia. For the time being, however, I would like to draw attention to just three main sub-areas where useful work could be done: (i) analysis of the internal processes of scrolls scholarship; (ii) influence upon and relationship with Biblical Studies; and (iii) aspects of gender in relation to scrolls scholarship and textual interpretation. i) The Internal Processes of Scrolls Scholarship The first of these, analysis of the internal processes of scrolls scholarship, would include, for instance, the aforementioned work done by Edna Ullmann-Margalit; “research about scrolls research.”18 In this context, Robert A. Kugler states that “[t]he Qumran Scrolls have engendered their own modern community,” while Ullmann-Margalit likewise notes “the eerie yet pervasive feeling that in dealing with the Dead Sea Scrolls one is facing a sectarian phenomenon not only as regards the authors of the scrolls, but as regards their researchers as well.”19 This modern scrolls community is, from the perspective of reception history, just as deserving of examination and scrutiny as the ancient one responsible for the texts. In particular, questions can be asked about the (often unconscious) influences at work within scrolls scholarship. What are the origins of our various ideas about the scrolls and how have they developed? Can biases or assumptive arguments be found in our approaches to, and interpretations 18

See n. 8 above. Note also the following forthcoming edited volume: Devorah Dimant and Annette Steudel, eds., The History of Qumran Research (STDJ; Leiden: Brill, forthcoming). 19 Robert A. Kugler, “Whose Scripture? Whose Community? Reflections on the Dead Sea Scrolls Then and Now, By Way of Aramaic Levi,” DSD 15 (2008): 5–23 at 6; Ullmann-Margalit, “Spotlight on Scroll Scholars,” 64.


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of, the scrolls over the past sixty years, and, if yes, can we determine whether these have influenced (and had a knock-on effect for) subsequent scholarship? In other words, might some of our perceptions be based on faulty reasoning? How exactly have ideas been transmitted and developed through sixty years of publications, and can these processes be independently evaluated? How do the internal workings of scrolls scholarship compare with and conform to principles of scientific theory formation in general?20 To give a specific example, we might question to what extent the early or formative years of scrolls scholarship have shaped subsequent interpretation. The very fact that the discovery (not to mention publication) of the scrolls took place over a prolonged period, may also play a role. In view of that, how far might the initial Cave 1 discoveries, for instance, be said to have influenced and colored (perhaps even distorted) our interpretation of the later discoveries in Caves 2–11? Early on, a “perceived” Qumran history and identity was derived from the Cave 1 texts alone, swiftly gaining widespread acceptance among the first scrolls scholars. Since all subsequent evidence was considered with this “received” wisdom already in mind, the potential is there at least for unbalanced interpretation and a tendency towards the incorporation of such evidence within the existing model.21 As Moshe J. Bernstein asks: [W]hat would have been the result had the Qumran texts been discovered and published in a different order than they were? . . . [M]any of the presuppositions, the touchstones which have governed our research . . ., would likely have been quite different. The significance of the sequence of publication of the Qumran documents is a phenomenon which, I believe, has generally been overlooked.22

20

With regard to this latter point, the groundwork for such an investigation has already been laid by Edna Ullmann-Margalit (see nn. 8 and 9 above). 21 A point discussed at the Sixth Meeting of the IOQS, in response to the following unpublished paper: Matthew A. Collins, “‘Perceived’ Qumran History and the Legacy of the Cave 1 Discoveries” (paper presented at the IOQS meeting, Ljubljana, Slovenia, July 18, 2007). 22 Moshe J. Bernstein, “Introductory Formulas for Citation and Re-Citation of Biblical Verses in the Qumran Pesharim: Observations on a Pesher Technique,” DSD 1 (1994): 30–70 at 30. See also, Norman Golb, “Khirbet Qumran and the Manuscripts of the Judaean Wilderness: Observations on the Logic of their Investigation,” JNES 49.2 (1990): 103–14, esp. 109–10.

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In short, an examination of the processes by which we have arrived at our historical reconstructions and syntheses, and an evaluation of our own influences and preconceptions, is vital to both a better understanding of how the scrolls have been received and appropriated by the academic community, and to a more nuanced view of the scrolls themselves. ii) Biblical Studies The second of our sub-areas within the more general category of academic reception concerns the influence of the scrolls upon, and their relationship with, Biblical Studies. We have already seen how a number of scholars have begun to address the question of how our readings of (and approaches to) the Bible have been affected by the scrolls.23 At a textual level, we may note changes and additions to our versions of the biblical texts themselves, made in the light of readings preserved at Qumran (for instance, the well-known example of the NRSV’s decision to include, at the end of 1 Sam 10, a passage missing from the Masoretic Text but preserved in 4QSama).24 We may also identify more general trends, such as reconsideration of topics like canon formation, scriptural authority, and textual criticism.25 However, broader questions may also be posed, such as how has the field of Biblical Studies reacted generally to the discovery of the scrolls? Aside from the scrolls scholars themselves, how far have other academics (in this instance, biblical scholars) utilized the evidence of the scrolls within their own field?26 Related to this, one might even ask to what extent Qumran 23

See n. 14 above. See, e.g., Eugene C. Ulrich, The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Origins of the Bible (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999), 184–201. 25 For instance, Jonathan G. Campbell, “4QMMTd and the Tripartite Canon,” JJS 51 (2000): 181–90; idem, “‘Rewritten Bible’ and ‘Parabiblical Texts’: A Terminological and Ideological Critique,” in Campbell, Lyons, and Pietersen, New Directions in Qumran Studies, 43–68; Shemaryahu Talmon, “The Crystallization of the ‘Canon of Hebrew Scriptures’ in the Light of Biblical Scrolls from Qumran,” in Herbert and Tov, The Bible as Book: The Hebrew Bible and the Judaean Desert Discoveries, 5–20; Arie van der Kooij, “The Textual Criticism of the Hebrew Bible before and after the Qumran Discoveries,” ibid., 167–77. Also, White Crawford, “The Dead Sea Scrolls,” 84–85. 26 At the fiftieth anniversary of the discovery of the scrolls, Hartmut Stegemann (“Qumran Challenges,” 947) noted that: “there are still very few Hebrew Bible scholars who have begun to include the new Qumran evidence into their 24


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Studies has both integrated itself with and isolated itself from other disciplines? Does its very nature as a separately designated field of study hamper its proper contextualization within the wider world of Biblical and Jewish Studies?27 In fact, by speaking of “scrolls scholars” and “scrolls scholarship” at all, are we in effect de-contextualizing this particular body of evidence from the wider historical and textual world to which it belongs? Ultimately, how have the scrolls informed our reading of the Bible and, crucially, to what extent have these insights been carried over into related fields, such as Biblical Studies? iii) Gender Aspects While there are obvious overlaps with examinations of the internal processes of scrolls scholarship, the question of gender in relation to the reception of the scrolls is one that is perhaps also worth briefly highlighting here as a separate potentially fruitful avenue of enquiry. Although various studies have addressed both the presence and absence of women in the Qumran textual and archaeological record, from the perspective of reception history it would be more interesting to ask how significant gender issues have been within scrolls scholarship itself.28 For instance, might the allmale (predominantly clerical)29 nature of the early editorial team have in framework of describing the interrelationship between the different biblical traditions, sources, books, and their final redactions. Most Hebrew Bible scholars still regard the new Qumran evidence as basically ‘post-canonical’ and of no special interest for them.” 27 On the impact of the scrolls upon Judaism and Jewish Studies, see for instance: Richard A. Freund, “How the Dead Sea Scrolls Influenced Reform Judaism,” American Jewish Archives Journal 61 (2009): 115–43; Lawrence H. Schiffman, “Halakhah and History: The Contribution of the Dead Sea Scrolls to Recent Scholarship,” in Qumran and Jerusalem: Studies in the Dead Sea Scrolls and the History of Judaism (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010), 63–78. 28 For more traditional examinations of women in the scrolls, see initially: Eileen M. Schuller, “Women in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in The Dead Sea Scrolls After Fifty Years: A Comprehensive Assessment (vol. 2; ed. P. W. Flint and J. C. VanderKam; Leiden: Brill, 1999), 117–44; Cecilia Wassen, Women in the Damascus Document (Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2005); Sidnie White Crawford, “Not According to Rule: Women, the Dead Sea Scrolls and Qumran”, in Emanuel: Studies in Hebrew Bible, Septuagint and Dead Sea Scrolls in Honor of Emanuel Tov (ed. S. M. Paul et al.; Leiden: Brill, 2003), 127–50. 29 Of the original editorial team, Roland de Vaux, Dominique Barthélemy, Pierre

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any way influenced their interpretation of the evidence? To give but one example, might ordained men have been predisposed to more readily favor evidence (textual and/or archaeological) supporting the notion of an allmale “monastic” community over that which problematized this view?30 Would the scholarship and interpretations of an initial mixed-gender editorial team have looked any different? Furthermore, to what degree, if any, has the marginalization of female scholars in the first forty years of “official” scholarship contributed to the marginalization of women within readings of the texts themselves?31 Questions such as these may pave the way for an examination of our own responses to (and appropriation of ) the scrolls through a lens sensitive to the potential role of gender issues in scholarship. b) Popular Reception of the Scrolls Leaving behind academic reception of the scrolls, our second major category into which future investigations might fall concerns the reception of the scrolls within the popular sphere. Here, a major topic for examination would be the ways in which public perceptions of the scrolls have differed from academic ones. As mentioned at the start of this paper, within popular culture the Dead Sea Scrolls seem to have become symbolic of mysterious and ancient wisdom, and frequently associated with conspiracy and controversial hidden truths. In this context we might highlight the revealing title of a public lecture given by Jason Kalman of Hebrew Union College at the Canadian Museum of Civilization in 2004: “Bigfoot, Elvis, and Aliens: The Canadian Media and the Dead Sea Scrolls.”32 It could well be Benoit, Józef T. Milik, Jean Starcky, Patrick W. Skehan, and Maurice Baillet were all ordained. See further, Fields, The Dead Sea Scrolls: A Full History, 1:191–239. 30 In this context, Joan E. Taylor notes: “All of our interpretations of data are to some degree conditioned by our expectations and preconceptions and no one is exempt from the tendency to present evidence in a somewhat biased fashion, no matter how hard we may strive for impartiality and objectivity” (in “The Cemeteries of Khirbet Qumran and Women’s Presence at the Site,” DSD 6 [1999]: 285– 323 at 322). 31 I am very grateful here to W. John Lyons for his suggestion of a Gender Studies approach to scrolls scholarship as a potentially fruitful direction from the perspective of reception history. 32 March 25, 2004 at the Canadian Museum of Civilization in Gatineau, Quebec (see further: www.civilization.ca/cmc/media/press-releases/year-2004/bigfootelvis-and-aliens-the-canadian-media-and-the-dead-sea-scrolls).


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argued that, for a proportion of the public at least, the scrolls occupy this category far more readily than that of sober textual and historical criticism. Indeed, the opening chapter of Timothy H. Lim’s The Dead Sea Scrolls: A Very Short Introduction, titled “The Dead Sea Scrolls as Cultural Icon,” begins with the astute observation: “Many people have heard of the Dead Sea Scrolls, but few know what they are.”33 Accordingly, Maxine L. Grossman describes the scrolls as “open signifiers”: “a category whose basic frame is recognizable (‘ancient documents found in the region of the Dead Sea’) but whose specific content is not.”34 That the mythic status of the scrolls has, in the popular sphere, overshadowed their reality is in itself an intriguing state of affairs, and one worthy of further study. An evaluation of this wider impact of the Dead Sea Scrolls, noting in particular the manner and extent of their permeation into popular culture, would be a task that is in equal parts both difficult and rewarding. Their employment within popular culture is the very window through which public perceptions of them might best be understood. Given this, we may identify a number of key areas or mediums which could be explored; for instance, the scrolls in: i) Literature (e.g., their portrayal in dozens of novels such as Joel C. Rosenberg’s political thriller The Copper Scroll, Philip K. Dick’s The Transmigration of Timothy Archer, or Eliette Abécassis’ The Qumran Mystery [the first part of her trilogy of Qumran thrillers]);35

33 Timothy H. Lim, The Dead Sea Scrolls: A Very Short Introduction (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005), 1. 34 Grossman, “Mystery or History,” 76. 35 Joel C. Rosenberg, The Copper Scroll (Tyndale House, 2006); Philip K. Dick, The Transmigration of Timothy Archer (Timescape, 1982); Eliette Abécassis, Qumran (Librairie Générale Française, 1996; English translation: The Qumran Mystery [Orion Books, 1998]). For the scrolls in works of fiction, see further: John Kissinger, “Archaeology as ‘Wild Magic’: The Dead Sea Scrolls in Popular Fiction,” Journal of American Culture 21.3 (1998): 75–81; Brenda L. Segal, “Holding Fiction’s Mirror to the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in Schiffman, Tov, and VanderKam, The Dead Sea Scrolls: Fifty Years After Their Discovery, 1947–1997, 906–12; Brenda L. Segal, “The Copper Scroll: Novel Approaches,” in Copper Scroll Studies (ed. G. J. Brooke and P. R. Davies; JSPSup 40; London: Sheffield Academic Press, 2002), 271–75. Note also, Simon Armitage, The Dead Sea Poems (Faber and Faber, 1995).

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ii) Film and television (e.g., the Japanese anime series Neon Genesis Evangelion [where the scrolls play a major role and are said to contain prophecies of a coming apocalypse], the Italian film Gli amici di Gesù—Tommaso [which includes portrayal of Qumran and its inhabitants], or episode 5, season 3 of Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman [where Superman discovers a Dead Sea Scroll and employs a psychic in order to decipher it!]);36 iii) Music (e.g., the 1991 album The Dead Sea Scrolls by The Bollock Brothers, Kim Cunio’s 2000 album Music of the Dead Sea Scrolls [setting the texts of certain scrolls to musical accompaniment], or the Manic Street Preachers song “So Why So Sad,” from their 2001 album Know Your Enemy [whose chorus includes the line “Searchin’ for the Dead Sea Scrolls, so why, so why so sad?”]);37 iv) Art (e.g., Shraga Weil’s illustrations in the 1966 Limited Editions Club edition of Geza Vermes’ The Dead Sea Scrolls, Joshua Neustein’s 2009–10 exhibition of works at the Royal Ontario Museum in Toronto [titled “Margins: Contemporary Art Unraveling the Dead Sea Scrolls”], or the scrolls-related artwork of Lika Tov [who utilizes the distinct shapes of the fragments themselves as a source of inspiration]).38

36

Neon Genesis Evangelion (dir. H. Anno; 1995–1996); Gli amici di Gesù— Tommaso (dir. R. Mertes; 2001); “Just Say Noah” (episode 5, season 3 of Lois and Clark: The New Adventures of Superman; dir. D. Jackson; aired October 22, 1995; see further: http://www.zen134237.zen.co.uk/Lois_and_Clark/Lois_and_Clark_ 3x05_-_Just_Say_Noah.txt). 37 The Bollock Brothers, The Dead Sea Scrolls (CD; SPV Records, 1991; remastered and re-released, MBC Records, 2001); Kim Cunio, Music of the Dead Sea Scrolls (CD; Lotus Foot, 2000); Manic Street Preachers, Know Your Enemy (CD; Epic Records, 2001). 38 Geza Vermes, The Dead Sea Scrolls (illustrated by Shraga Weil; Limited Editions Club; Westerham Press: Westerham, 1966); see further: http://www.safrai. com/liste.php?artist=11. Joshua Neustein, “Margins: Contemporary Art Unraveling the Dead Sea Scrolls” (art exhibition; Royal Ontario Museum, Toronto, Canada, June 27, 2009–March 28, 2010; see further: www.rom.on.ca/exhibitions/ special/margins.php and http://heritage-key.com/blogs/owenjarus/interviewartist-joshua-neustein-responding-dead-sea-scrolls). Lika Tov, “Some Dead Sea Scrolls Fragments as a Source of Inspiration for My Art,” in Qumran and the Bible: Studying the Jewish and Christian Scriptures in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls


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Each of these mediums affords us an important glimpse of how the scrolls have been received and interpreted within the popular sphere. What is needed, however, is not only documentation of such occurrences but critical evaluation of the extent to which they may be said to reflect and/or influence public perceptions of the scrolls. Attention must also be paid to how and why these differ from academic perceptions of the scrolls. What is the nature of the conceptual space occupied by the scrolls in the public consciousness and by what processes is it maintained? c) Knowledge Transfer Our third (and final) major category, “knowledge transfer,” concerns the points of interaction between “academic” and “popular” reception; in particular, as we have already noted, the educational and informative processes taking place primarily (or ostensibly) in the direction from the academic sphere to the popular sphere. This overlaps somewhat with both of our preceding two categories and yet is also clearly distinct. Adolfo D. Roitman, Curator of the Dead Sea Scrolls (Shrine of the Book, Jerusalem), has said that, generally speaking, the public “know the scrolls are important, but they don’t know why.”39 The same observation can be made upon examining some of the occurrences of the scrolls in popular reception; they are clearly regarded as significant, though there is often a lack of informed knowledge about what that significance is. The gap between academic scholarship and popular understandings of the scrolls is a void which is in continual need of being re-bridged.40 Indeed, Roitman suggests that “it has become truly necessary to start developing systematically a new field of expertise, with its own theory and methods: the teaching and popularization of the Dead Sea Scrolls.”41 Certainly any comprehensive examination (ed. N. David and A. Lange; Leuven: Peeters, 2010), 29–41; see further: http:// www.likatov.info/. 39 Quoted in Jack Meinhardt, “Roitman Appointed Curator at Shrine of the Book,” BAR 21.1 (1995): 20. 40 See initially, Mahan, “The Dead Sea Scrolls.” Note further, Jaqueline S. du Toit and Jason Kalman, “Albright’s Legacy? Homogeneity in the Introduction of the Dead Sea Scrolls to the Public,” JNSL 36.2 (2010): 23–48. 41 Adolfo D. Roitman, “The Quest for New Strategies in Teaching and Popularizing the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in Roitman, Schiffman, and Tzoref, The Dead Sea Scrolls and Contemporary Culture, 719–30 at 722.

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of the reception history of the scrolls needs to address not only “academic” and “popular” reception, but also the attempts made to bridge the gap between the two; that is to say, the educational and informative processes of so-called “knowledge transfer.” By way of example, let us again highlight three key areas which may be worthy of further investigation. i) Exhibitions The first of these concerns public exhibitions of the scrolls. Here, the choice of materials displayed and the manner of their presentation (for instance, the accompanying descriptions and overall narrative) are typically the product of scrolls academics and those responsible for their preservation, but the intended audience consists primarily of non-specialists (i.e., the general public). In other words, exhibitions constitute, for the most part, attempts to take scholarly responses to the scrolls and transfer these to the public sphere; academic reception as “officially” mediated to the public.42 This process raises its own questions. Against the backdrop of scholarly disagreement and diversity, each exhibition must select information to include and information to omit; what is the significance (and what are the ramifications) of the choice of a particular narrative, subsequently presented to the (unsuspecting) public with the air of authority?43 How have issues of consensus and dispute, unity and diversity, been dealt with? As an educational medium, should exhibitions (and their catalogs) embrace 42

See initially, Adolfo D. Roitman, “Exhibiting the Dead Sea Scrolls: Some Historical and Theoretical Considerations,” in Archaeology and Society in the 21st Century: The Dead Sea Scrolls and Other Case Studies (ed. N. A. Silberman and E. S. Frerichs; Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 2001), 41–66. 43 While admittedly pursuing his own agenda, Norman Golb has addressed some of the issues related to “authoritative” presentations of the scrolls, in “The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Ethics of Museology,” Aspen Institute Quarterly 6.2 (1994): 79–98; as well as in numerous online articles (available here: http://oi. uchicago.edu/research/projects/scr/): “As the Scrolls Arrive in Chicago . . .” (2000; rev. July 30, 2007); “The Current Controversy over the Dead Sea Scrolls, with Special Reference to the Exhibition at the Field Museum of Chicago” (2000; rev. July 30, 2007); “The Dead Sea Scrolls at Seattle’s Pacific Science Center” (rev. December 19, 2006); “Fact and Fiction in Current Exhibitions of the Dead Sea Scrolls—A Critical Notebook for Viewers” (June 1, 2007); “The Dead Sea Scrolls as Treated in a Recently Published Catalogue” (October 22, 2007); “The Current New York Exhibition of the Dead Sea Scrolls: An Appraisal” (November 17, 2008); “On the Current Exhibit of Dead Sea Scrolls at the Milwaukee Public Museum” (2010).


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diversity and aim for inclusiveness (presenting the public with a fully representative range of views, but thereby perhaps leaving many questions ultimately unanswered and the visitor potentially perplexed and uncertain about what they’ve just seen) or attempt to present a strong unilateral narrative (focusing on points of consensus and underplaying dispute in order to deliver a clearer educational message, but thereby privileging one side of the story and potentially not telling the visitor “the whole truth”)? The nature and purpose of the medium, as well as the intended audience, are all factors to be taken into consideration. We might further examine how these “official” presentations of the scrolls have differed, both chronologically (across the last sixty years) and regionally (across the globe). Can trends or agendas be discerned? In essence, might examination of the differing ways in which the scrolls have been represented help us to better understand the differing ways in which they have been appropriated and understood? ii) Documentaries In similar fashion, we might turn our attention to television documentaries about the scrolls. Here too, “official” views are conveyed to the public with an air of authority, and the same questions asked above may likewise be posed here. In this case, however, the selection of scholars interviewed and the range of views expressed tends to be in the hands of the production company, whose own agenda drives the program. This makes it much harder for an unsuspecting public to discern between mainstream theories and fringe ideas, since both can be presented as equally authoritative. Indeed, such documentaries may even promote a fringe scholar or theory into the limelight, casting more mainstream academics into the role of conservative and unenlightened sideliners; a process which Lawrence H. Schiffman describes as “inverting reality.”44 It falls to the viewer to somehow distinguish between those documentaries which accurately reflect the current debate within the academic community, and those of a more sensationalist nature. Given the authoritative tone of both program and narrator in each case (as well, of course, as the process of selection and omission of information in the interest of a “clean” storyline),45 such a task

44

Schiffman, “Inverting Reality.” See also Brooke, “The Scrolls in the British Media,” and Grossman, “Mystery or History.” 45 As Brooke notes, “the multi-faceted truth would be hard to tell” (“The Scrolls in the British Media,” 40).

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is understandably difficult (if not downright impossible) for the uninitiated layperson. Since such documentaries are, for the majority of the general public, one of the most accessible forms of “authoritative” information about the scrolls, these intrinsic problems may in turn result in public perceptions of the scrolls being similarly inverted and skewed by the more sensationalist of these presentations; a process that is perhaps reflected in some aspects of the reception of the scrolls in popular culture. How might we evaluate the impact of such “pseudo-academic” instances of knowledge transfer upon the wider reception of the scrolls? And to what extent are skewed or sensationalist presentations successfully combatted by those providing a more balanced picture? Ultimately, how helpful are television documentaries (from an academic standpoint) as an educational tool for (i) raising the profile of the Dead Sea Scrolls and/or (ii) relaying accurate and reliable information to the public, and what role have they played in the permeation of the scrolls into popular culture? iii) Newspapers Newspaper articles (and indeed the news media generally) constitute a third medium worthy of examination. Here, many of the issues related to the presentation of the scrolls in television documentaries are once again in play, especially since the process is even further removed from academic control. The nature and tone of the medium conveys authority and neutrality, but the actual content is driven more by the need for “a good story.”46 Indeed, the desire to retain neutrality (or at least a semblance thereof ) can itself be the cause of skewed presentations of both the scrolls and their scholarship. Maxine L. Grossman notes, in a short piece for the November 2006 Orion Center Newsletter, that newspaper journalism judges itself to be “fair” when “both sides” are presented equally. She goes on to highlight the key differences between scholarly and popular discourse (in short, “As academics we don’t really believe in ‘both,’ and we have a very different definition of ‘fair’”), and observes that forcing the complex myriad of theories about the scrolls into an artificial dualistic framework (generally “mainstream versus new challenger”) is both misrepresentative and misleading, especially when a far-fetched fringe theory is, in the name of neu-

46

See initially, Brooke, “The Scrolls in the British Media,” and Schiffman, “Inverting Reality.” Also, Mahan, “The Dead Sea Scrolls in Popular Culture,” and Silk, “Why the Papers Love the Scrolls.”


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trality and fairness, elevated to the role of equally legitimate contender.47 As a result, we may question the suitability of the media (from an academic perspective) as a reliable means of knowledge transfer when it comes to the scrolls. Its motivation and agenda are considerably removed from those of academic scholarship, thus generating a “new” dynamic in the reception history. Mark Silk acknowledges that, compared with documentaries, newspapers “require that a higher hurdle of novelty be jumped” (i.e., a new development or new angle [whether real, perceived, or invented]), but also points out that “the sensational is not ipso facto bad.”48 That is to say, it is the very sensationalism and intrigue attached to public perceptions of the scrolls, which ensures and maintains their high profile in popular culture. This is what transforms them in the public eye from the dusty, boring old manuscripts they might potentially have been viewed as, into the scandalous, mysterious (even dangerous), secret texts they are so widely perceived to be. While often a source of irritation for scholars keen to educate the public about the true significance of the scrolls, the flipside of the coin is that it is precisely because of these popular misconceptions (not in spite of them) that we are guaranteed a ready and eager audience outside of the academic sphere. This is why the public flock to scrolls exhibitions, are fascinated by scrolls documentaries, and are intrigued by scrolls stories in the media—and ironically it is exactly this which provides us with such a rare opportunity to transfer our academic research and interests into the popular sphere and the public consciousness.49 Exhibitions, documentaries, and newspaper stories constitute something different again from both the academic reception of the scrolls which they purport to reflect and the popular reception of the scrolls which they feed and indeed shape. It is in this context, as important mediums for “knowledge transfer” and sources of “mediated reception,” that they deserve to be more extensively studied. 47

Maxine L. Grossman, “‘Both Sides’ of the Story: When Scrolls Scholars and the Media Don’t Quite Communicate,” Orion Center Newsletter (November 2006). On differing “discursive realms,” see further, Grossman, “Mystery or History.” 48 Silk, “Why the Papers Love the Scrolls,” 95–96. 49 On the educational dimension and the development of strategies for communicating with and teaching the public about the scrolls, see Roitman, “The Quest for New Strategies” (esp. 726–30).

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Conclusion As “reception history” continues to play an ever more important role within Biblical Studies, it is increasingly apparent (as demonstrated in a number of recent studies highlighted here) that the same perspective might successfully be applied to Qumran Studies, resulting in important and timely examinations of the modern reception, influence, and impact of the Dead Sea Scrolls. The intricate history of scrolls scholarship, coupled with the intense public fascination with them, not only lends itself to such an approach, but actively invites it. While certainly not intending to be exhaustive, this article has attempted to outline some possible directions for future investigation, identifying academic reception of the scrolls (that is, the ways in which they have been used by, influenced, and impacted upon academia), popular reception of the scrolls (their impact within popular culture, including literature, film and television, music, and art), and mediums of “knowledge transfer” (analysis of the points of interaction between “academic” and “popular” reception, and evaluation of the educational and informative processes taking place in attempts to bridge the gap between the two) as three main areas or categories into which such examinations could helpfully be divided. The boundaries between these three areas are far from rigid, but they may nevertheless prove a useful starting point for future exploits. Roitman notes that “[s]ince the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls, the intellectual efforts of scholars have been devoted to understanding the data in their original historical context. Until now, our attention was directed towards the past.”50 As a different, more reflective type of approach to the topic, reception history perspectives promise not only a rich and fertile avenue for future investigation, but the possibility of thereby uncovering valuable insights into our own continuing complex relationship with the scrolls.

50

Roitman, “The Quest for New Strategies,” 730.


brill.nl/dsd

Book Reviews Wisdom in Transition: Act and Consequence in Second Temple Instructions. By Samuel L. Adams. Leiden: Brill, 2008. Hardcover. Pp. 314. US$ 177.00. ISBN 9789004165663. The title of this lucid and thoughtful book somewhat slights its scope. Although it declares its aim as the analysis of the idea of retribution in Hellenistic Jewish Wisdom, in particular 4QInstruction, more than a third of the book is devoted to a careful and valuable examination of the development of the idea in Egyptian Wisdom and Proverbs. Adams takes as his heuristic guide the theory of the Tun-Ergehen-Zusammenhang (TEZ), proposed by Klaus Koch in 1955 (“Gibt es ein Vergeltungsdogma im Alten Testament?” ZTK 52 [1955]: 1–42). According to Koch, the OT authors (and not only in Wisdom Literature) believed that justice takes the form of causeand-effect. Reward and punishment are built-in consequences of a deed or (in a later refinement of the theory) one’s character. God is only a catalyst in the process. This theory had a great impact on Wisdom studies because Wisdom often promises appropriate consequences for deeds without explaining what will produce and assure the outcome. The theory has been extensively criticized and modified, but it cannot be brushed aside. It remains a powerful statement of one way in which Wisdom conceives, formulates and inculcates its teachings. Adams successfully redeploys the concept as a heuristic tool for describing the expression and development of the sages’ thought. In the study of Egyptian Wisdom discussion of retribution has centered on a thesis proposed by Hellmut Brunner (“Der freie Wille Gottes in der ägyptischen Weisheit,” in Sagesses du Proche-orient ancien [Paris: Presses Universitaires, 1963], 103–20). Brunner held that in the Old and Middle Kingdoms Maʾat was thought to be a world-order which itself brought about recompense and retribution. This concept requires and affirms human freedom of choice. In the New Kingdom, according to Brunner, this was replaced by emphasis on the free will of God. Reward and punishment now depended on God’s freely granted love or hatred and human freedom was restricted. Adams shows that this is simply not so: Early texts sometimes assume divine determinism and direct intervention and acknowledge human uncertainty, while some later ones formulate retribution in terms of natural causation and assume © Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2011

DOI: 10.1163/156851711X581407

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Book Reviews / Dead Sea Discoveries 18 (2011) 247–276

freedom of will. “The decision to privilege one model (indirect causation, the need to actualize Maʾat) over the other (divine agency) largely depended on the topic at hand and the teaching strategy of the particular sage” (51). The sages’ pedagogical orientation was practical, not theoretical. And it was determinedly this-worldly, locating reward and punishment in this life (though there are more allusions to the afterlife than Adam notes). I would add that Brunner’s view of New Kingdom Wisdom arises from concentration on Amenemope. Examination of other New Kingdom works, namely Anii and Papyrus Chester Beatty IV, would show that in regard to the working of retribution and the role of divinity, NK Wisdom remained close to the earlier emphasis on natural causality. However, the shift Brunner envisioned does occur, not in the NK but in the Ptolemaic period. The emphasis on divine freedom and unbridled control of human destiny as well as the consequent uncertainty and sense of helplessness before an obscure divine will become prominent in the Demotic works of Phibis (Pap. Insinger) and Onchsheshonqy. Adams discusses these works as points of comparison in the chapter on Ben Sira, but they are also the culmination of Egyptian wisdom and show that the history of Egyptian wisdom paralleled Israel’s. Adams finds in the book of Proverbs a similar duality between natural mechanisms of retribution on the one hand and divine agency on the other. He rightly argues that this does not reflect a philosophical divide. Sayings that use the former formulation do not assume an impersonal world-order, nor do those that mention God’s role are not (contrary to William McKane and others) the work of a later “Yahwistic” or pietistic redactor. Each type of proverb represents a rhetorical strategy, not a theology. In any case, the consequences of deeds remain in this life. The authors recognize the possibility of inequities but propose no afterlife or eschatology to resolve the problems, and death itself is unproblematic. In the Second Temple period, Adams says, when historical realities made the tenuousness of earthly recompense undeniable to many, some works of Wisdom and other genres (notably 1 Enoch) sought to strengthen the TEZ axiom by projecting the fulfillment of justice into an afterlife. Other sages of this period, notably Qohelet and Ben Sira, rejected a post mortem solution. For Qohelet (the third century B.C.E.), death in itself became problematic. Qohelet, broods on it and believes that it obliterates everything of value. He knows of the emergent Hellenistic belief in the eternality of the soul but rejects it. Ben Sira maintains the conservative, this-worldly orientation of earlier Wisdom. He insists on an ultimate reckoning in this life. This requires him to look for innovative (and sometimes doubtful) ways to affirm the certainty of justice, such as asserting that the sinner suffers anxiety and that the righteous are happy on the day of their death. He opposes speculations about the origin of sin, the eschaton, the afterlife, and the heavenly realm, such are found in his approximate contemporary, 1 Enoch, parts of which he seems acquainted with.


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There is eschatology in the present book of Ben Sira, particularly in the prayer for national vindication in 36:1–22. Adams removes this as secondary on the grounds that it is inconsistent with the rest of the book. (In other regards Adams cautions against imposing philosophical consistency in Ben Sira’s views.) In fact, the passage is fully consistent with Ben Sira’s view of Zion’s supremacy and his esteem for prophecy, of which eschatology is a prominent component. But this form of eschatology is a national vision and has nothing to say about recompense for the individual, which is Wisdom’s real concern. As Adams observes, Ben Sira, like his predecessors, does not resolve the tension between divine determinism and human freedom. He insists on human accountability for sin, though in some passages he inclines to a degree of determinism. He is confident of the fulfillment of justice in each individual’s lifetime. Perhaps, Adams speculates, this is because Ben Sira belonged to a more secure social class, one whose members could hope to achieve a good life by their own efforts. But this speculation this self-justifying assumptions about the social station of 1 Enoch’s audience, as well as the presupposition that more secure social classes are less interested in the afterlife. Was this true of nobility in Christian Europe, for example? Adams concludes with a comprehensive and nuanced discussion of 4QInstruction. Even as this text often speaks of deed and consequence in the traditional sapiential manner, it also affirms the newer belief that defers recompense to the afterlife. The wicked will be judged and condemned to the ultimate cessation of existence and the righteous—an elect few—will inherit eternal bliss as spiritual beings in the heavenly realm. Righteousness depends on the addressee’s knowledge and his separation from iniquity. The requisite knowledge requires study of the raz niyheh, “the mystery that is to be,” the core concern of which, Adams argues, is God’s control of the cosmos. A brief section on the Wisdom of Solomon argues that this book too secures the TEZ by promising eternal glory for the righteous. Those who deny this belief, the author insists, are fools (2:3). He likely classed Qohelet among them, but Qohelet was not alone. During the last three centuries B.C.E. two groups were debating the issue intensely, and Adams nicely traces the course of the argument. One wonders if the Pharisaic and Sadducean differences with regard to resurrection can be understood in this context. Wisdom in Transition is an important contribution to Wisdom Literature as a whole (setting aside Mesopotamian Wisdom, as Wisdom scholars tend to do). It also demonstrates the value of long-range comparative study of this literary genre in identifying the problems that all its exemplars face and defining the types of solutions they offer. A book of this scope inevitably omits much and cannot be faulted for its selection. Nevertheless, the absence of sustained discussion of Job is puzzling, for Job was certainly at the center of the debate about retribution, death, and destiny. University of Wisconsin, Madison

Michael V. Fox

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The Exegetical Texts. By Jonathan G. Campbell. CQS 4. London: T&T Clark, 2004. Hardcover. Pp. ix + 132. US$ 108.00. ISBN 0567084272. In volume 4 of the Companion to the Qumran Scrolls series, Jonathan Campbell presents “a selection of eight sectarian manuscripts from among the Qumran Dead Sea Scrolls under the umbrella term of ‘the Exegetical Texts’” (vii). In order to achieve this task, Campbell devotes his initial two chapters to clarifying his understanding of the concepts “Qumran Dead Sea Scrolls,” “sectarian,” and “exegetical texts.” The subsequent six chapters are devoted to the compositions represented by the eight manuscripts: 4QFlorilegium (4Q174); 4QCatenae A-B (4Q177, 4Q182); 11QMelchizedek (11Q13); 4QAges of Creation A-B (4Q180–181); 4QTanḥ umim (4Q176); 4QTestimonia (4Q175). The final chapter discusses the selected texts as a group, in relation to each other and to the Qumran Community, and to late Second Temple literature generally. The introductory discussion of “the Dead Sea Scrolls from Qumran,” “the Qumran-Essene Hypothesis,” and “Recent Developments in Qumran Studies,” may be overly broad for such a specialized volume. Nonetheless, Campbell does succeed in providing a clear and succinct summary of scholarly discourse concerning the identification of the authorship and provenance of the Qumran scrolls, and in contextualizing the selected exegetical texts within the eschatological literature from Qumran, with special attention to pesher. Campbell again tackles a very broad topic in ch. 2, in his discussion of the nature of scripture, textual criticism, and inner-biblical exegesis. He describes a number of different ways of categorizing early scriptural exegesis, including the qualities of explicitness/implicitness, and “literal”/“ideological” interpretation (27–28). The treatment of exegetical technique is not very developed, though it is possibly suitable for the intended English-speaking readership, as more sophisticated analysis would require the use of specific language-dependent examples. The author does offer some more developed treatment of the topic with respect to specific texts, e.g., his example of gezera shawa on p. 40, and his discussion of the function of Isa 61 in 11QMelch (61–63). Turning to the main body of the work, Campbell succeeds in rendering each chapter accessible as a self-contained unit, while also maintaining a consistent user-friendly format that facilitates comparative study. Each chapter consists of six sections: an introduction to the work(s), followed by treatment of “the Text”, “the Genre,” “the Content,” and “the Exegesis,” and concluding with expanded discussion of some issue specific to the particular work, and a bibliographic section entitled “Further Reading,” with useful thematic sub-divisions. This structure is helpful to an extent, but the criteria for assigning material to one section or another are not always clear, so readers are advised to read all sections for a given text rather than relying on the topical arrangement within the chapter. © Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2011

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In the following survey of the body of the volume, we will focus primarily upon the concluding sections of each chapter as most representative of Campbell’s treatment of the compositions. In the first two chapters, Campbell’s primary interlocutor is Annette Steudel. In his discussion of 4QFlorilegium, the expanded final section relates to “the Reconstruction of Damaged Scrolls.” The treatment of 4QCatenae A-B addresses “The Existence of 4QMidrash on Eschatologya-b.” Campbell concludes that in the absence of physical evidence tying 4QFlor to 4QCat, it is best to regard these as separate but similar compositions. The concluding section in ch. 5 is devoted to “11QMelchizedek and the Schematization of History.” Although this is an appropriate choice in itself, it is not clear why Campbell chose to continue to focus upon the debate about 4QMidrash on Eschatology in his analysis of this very rich text. More productive texts for comparison, in addition to CD which he does address, might have been 4Q180–4Q181 or 4Q247 (named 4QPesher on the Apocalypse of Weeks by M. Broshi in DJD 36. This text is not mentioned in the volume under review.) Although Campbell notes a possible citation of Jubilees at 11QMelch 3:18 (60–61), he does not discuss this composition in his section on historical schematization and 11QMelchizedek. In ch. 6, Campbell discusses various proposals about the nature of 4Q180 and 4Q181 and their relationship to one another, concluding that they are “similar but not identical compositions” (67), and that 4Q180 is best characterized as a “thematic pesher” (71, 106–7). In his analysis of the content and exegesis of these compositions, Campbell surprisingly does not address the fact that their use of narrative texts from the book of Genesis is unusual in light of the tendency for the “exegetical texts” to cite and interpret prophetic biblical base-texts. In his treatment of 4QTestimonia, he refers to “the sort of . . . scriptural passages” upon which some sectarian works tended to comment (90), but in his concluding chapter he suggests that the exegetical texts differ from the more homogenous Continuous Pesharim in the diversity of scriptural texts employed (101; see also 104). Campbell does raise the issue of dependence on Genesis in his final section of the chapter “4QAges of Creation A-B and Other Sectarian Writings,” with respect to speculation about the original scope of these fragmentary compositions, and with reference to the possible “paradigmatic” reading of biblical narrative by the Qumran Community (76). Ch. 7 is devoted to 4QTanḥ umim, also known as 4QConsolations. Campbell cites T. Lim to the effect that this work, which in its extant state consists largely of selected citations from Isa 40–55, is more than “merely an ‘excerpted text’” and he describes it as a “scriptural anthology which also contains a modest but significant quantity of more-or-less overt exegesis” (80). Noteworthy in this chapter is the brief, but balanced and informative, discussion of lectionary traditions for Deutero-Isaiah as attested in scribal practices, NT, and rabbinic writings (84).

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Although the final section in the chapter is entitled “4QTanhumim and 4QApocryphal Lamentations A-B (4Q179, 501),” there is little reference here to the content of the apocryphal laments from Qumran. While Campbell is certainly correct in arguing for the textual independence of 4QTanḥ umim and these works, this does not mitigate the thematic relevance of the laments, which merit further attention. This section could have benefited from reference to A. Berlin’s “Qumran Laments and the Study of Lament Literature” in the proceedings of the Fifth Orion Symposium, Liturgical Perspectives (ed. E. G. Chazon; Brill, 2000); and to the consolation poem “Apostrophe to Zion” in 11QPsalms. On this text, see now Jesper Høgenhaven’s “The Literary Character of 4QTanḥ umim,” in DSD 14. The final text in this collection is 4QTestimonia. As in his treatment of 4QTanḥ umim, Campbell argues that this is more than simply an “excerpted text,” and he describes the exegetical aspects of the work, and particularly the aptness of the label “testimonia” on the basis of the messianic content of its citations. His text-critical analysis is thorough and concise, examining the relationship of the citations to versions of scripture, and to 4QApocryphon of Joshuab (4Q379). The final section of this chapter surveys the various proposals for identifying the historical figures alluded to in the section of the text parallel to the Apocryphon of Joshua, concerning the ruler who builds “the city” and is punished by his own death and that of his sons. This treatment may now be augmented by H. Eshel’s updated analysis in The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Hasmonean State. The concluding chapter will be most helpful to readers who have also read at least one of the chapters on the individual compositions. Here, Campbell describes a spectrum in the categorization of Qumran exegetical compositions, ranging from the overt continuous pesharim, through the thematic pesharim and related texts covered in this volume, and on to the isolated pesharim. He briefly examines the exegetical texts within the context of the Qumran Community and their relationship to the wider corpora of Second Temple literature. True to the aims of this series, Campbell keeps his prose simple and succeeds in bringing the observations of key academic studies to the non-specialist. His work remains useful, though it ought to be read along with the chapter on “Thematic Pesharim” by George Brooke in M. Henze, ed., Biblical Interpretation at Qumran, which appeared after the publication of the current volume. University of Sydney

Shani Tzoref


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Sectarianism in Early Judaism: Sociological Advances. Edited by David J. Chalcraft. London: Equinox, 2007. Paperback. Pp. 267. US$ 26.95. ISBN 9781845530846. This volume is divided into two major parts: Part One (“Max Weber on Sects and Voluntary Associations with Specific Reference to Second Temple Judaism”) consists of the editor’s preliminary research with regard to the applicability of Weberian sociology to Qumran Studies. Part Two offers a range of articles that pose the question of sectarianism with the help of sociological insights: Lester L. Grabbe, “When is a Sect a Sect—or Not? Groups and Movements in the Second Temple Period” (114–32); Philip R. Davies, “Sect Formation in Early Judaism” (133–55); Pierluigi Piovanelli, “Was There Sectarian Behaviour before the Flourishing of Jewish Sects? A Long-Term Approach to the History and Sociology of Second Temple Sectarianism” (156–79); Eyal Regev, “Atonement and Sectarianism in Qumran: Defining a Sectarian Worldview in Moral and Halakhic Systems” (180– 204); Cecilia Wassen and Jutta Jokiranta, “Groups in Tension: Sectarianism in the Damascus Document and the Community Rule” (205–45); and Albert I. Baumgarten, “Information Processing in Ancient Jewish Groups” (246–55). Most valuable is the editor’s elaborate introduction to this book, in which he evaluates each author’s contribution. This introduction highlights the dangers and pitfalls that accompany the use of social scientific models and typologies to analyse texts from Antiquity. In Part One, David Chalcraft attempts to systematically address Weber’s contribution to the sociology of sectarianism by analysing Weber’s most important writings. This is by no means an easy task: Not only does Weber refuse to define or segregate religion from secular processes within society, but also is his thinking on sectarianism embedded in his broader interests in the concept of social change. Chalcraft’s main argument consists of his conviction that Weber’s ideas of sectarianism—in contrast, for example, to those of Troeltsch and Wilson—are universally applicable and that they steer clear of ethnocentric (i.e., Western) specificity. In an academic “tour de force” Chalcraft retrieves data on sects from Weber’s main publications and demonstrates the development in Weber’s thinking about sectarianism. It might be helpful to summarise the broad content of Chalcraft’s Weberian framework: Weber initially thinks the sect to be “a free community of individuals who qualify for membership on purely religious grounds and who are accepted into the community on the basis of a decision freely entered into by both sides” (33). He describes the sect as a Gemeinschaft—a community in which social relations are “personal” and “supportive”—and is mainly interested in the qualities of the personal believer, the qualities a sect demands and the manner in which the sect maintains discipline. It is in light of this “discipline” that Weber introduces the idea of Selbstbehauptung, the ability to hold one’s own among others. In his later work, Weber broadens his view of the sect into the concept of Verein (voluntary association) in which also “literary, artistic and professional movements can © Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2011

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be understood as sects” (38). Sects then become groups who systematically pursue certain ideals in everyday life, and therefore need to distinguish themselves as “qualified” as opposed to the “non-qualified” within society. Weber originally thought that sects and sectarian individuals would “transform” the wider society, since their strict observance of ideology would have an educational impact on both the individual sectarian’s character and wider social change. When Weber realised that some sects withdraw from society, and their supposed impact on the wider society is therefore lost, he developed an interest in what he calls “ascetic rationalism.” Weber introduces “virtuosity” and “charisma” as heuristic tools with comparative value to identify “heroic tendencies” that such withdrawn sectarians demonstrate. “Virtuosity” is understood as “the heroic pursuit of sacred values” and is set over against “the religion of the masses.” These virtuosos often have a high level of “personal charisma,” or charismatic gifts that lead to redemption, like “dancing, healing, magic, prophecy, self-denial, feats of endurance, spiritual insight, ritual cleanliness and fulfilment of the prescriptions of ritual law” (40). The concepts of “charisma” and “virtuosity” might not only open up Weberian sociology of sects for cross-cultural analysis, but also carry notification of “social status differentiation” and other aspects of society. With these concepts in mind, Chalcraft turns to Qumran. Essentially, Chalcraft holds “the nature of the process of application, monitoring and disciplining of the individual that takes place in the movement and the manner in which the personal qualities esteemed by the sect bring about personal and in turn social and cultural change within and outwith the sect” as central to a Weberian sociology of sect (75). Hence, Chalcraft evaluates social and personal change at Qumran by looking at theological doctrines of election (predestination) as well as personal and social motivations for membership. Chalcraft argues that the concept of predestination—a division between individuals on the basis of their grace—is but an example of social division and can be taken out of its Weberian “Calvinist” context. Thus, like his Calvinist counterpart, the Qumran sectarian can only relax his “salvation anxiety” if he is able to demonstrate his election by possessing those values and qualities which are esteemed by the sect. In Chalcraft’s view, 1QS demonstrates a significant “theological reflection on the predestination of those who walk in the light compared with those who are walking in darkness,” thereby evaluating the individual’s standing by “the signs identifying their works during their lifetime” (p. 78; 1QS 3:14). Furthermore, the Treatise of the Two Spirits is said to reflect a differentiated leader/led-concept based on a person’s portions of light/darkness. Therefore, the Treatise supposedly creates a measure of “salvation anxiety,” motivating the sectarian to outrank others by increasing his “portions of light.” There are several problems concerning this analysis: First, problems of “fit.” Chalcraft applies Weber’s ideas of “election” and “salvation anxiety” to the Community Rule, without considering these terms’ close ideological connection to the


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Lutheran theological notion of “calling” and the Calvinist “doctrine of predestination.” Hence, Weber argued that these “purely religious characteristics of Protestantism” led to a reinforcement of capitalist and rationalist tendencies, i.e., they caused social change within society as a whole, while “election” in the Qumran sense helped to segregate the individual from society. Moreover, Weber’s “salvation anxiety” derives from Calvinist uncertainty due to the invisibility of election. In Qumran no such invisibility occurs, since—once admitted to the sect—a member’s election is presupposed. Moreover, 4Q186 hints to specific visible criteria to establish light/darkness within an individual. Thus, where Weber’s Protestantism establishes a nexus between human destiny and a specific form of economic enterprise, no such assessment can be made in Qumran. Finally, Chalcraft’s use of the Treatise of the Two Spirits as an integral part of 1QS may not convince everyone: Whereas some scholars, like García Martínez, consider the Treatise to be the zenith of the sect’s theology, others, like Stuckenbruck, question its sectarian origin and its importance for the sect. Moreover, the Treatise nowhere reflects a sectarian goal to achieve “more portions of light,” nor does it reflect Chalcraft’s presupposition of human control over “light” and “darkness” by “good deeds.” Quite contrarily, the human being is the locus of conflict between “divisions” of light and darkness, as God has appointed until the time of the visitation (1QS IV 15–20a). Hence, Chalcraft’s suggestion of the sectarian’s strive to increase his portions of “light” might be rooted in Protestant connotations of human betterment and is not undoubtedly supported by textual evidence from the scrolls. Nevertheless, Chalcraft’s question of the impact of sectarianism on the “individual sectarian’s personality” and the role of Selbstbehauptung within a sectarian community is a very interesting one. Chalcraft assumes that the sectarian must “alter his beliefs and actions in accordance with the sect’s principles” and therefore constantly needs to “prove himself in the company of the sect” (92–93). Of course, the applicability of this Weberian model should be questioned for its emphasis on individual conduct, something which was perhaps not so common in ancient societies. Moreover, Chalcraft’s combining of texts creates the impression that textual evidence to support his Weberian framework is emphasised, whilst contrary evidence is suppressed or ignored. However, Chalcraft’s Weberian framework with its emphasis on the sectarian’s personality, character and education and its subsequent question of societal influence opens up a new angle of research and enriches the existing social scientific approaches to Qumran. Durham University

Gwynned de Looijer

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Echoes from the Caves: Qumran and the New Testament. Edited by Florentino García Martínez. STDJ 85. Leiden: Brill, 2009. Hardcover. Pp. vi + 349. € 114.00 / US$ 169.00. ISBN 9789004176966. This volume represents the most recent comparison of the New Testament and the Qumran scrolls. The articles in this collection are technical, thorough, and will set the stage for fuller studies by future researchers, since the volume will likely be widely cited by scholars of both the scrolls and Christian origins. The respective contributions appropriately break with past scholarship in some key areas. Several of the articles deploy sociological models to help explain the phenomenon of sectarianism. While one might quibble with the ontological assumptions that govern the viability of defining one group as a “marginal sect” vis-à-vis the “stable” or “common” set of religious ideologies and practices of a supposed “mainstream” group, the use of social models to organize data is quite welcome, and will bear much fruit for future researchers. Another area where past scholarship has been superseded pertains to the issue of literary dependence. None of the contributions makes a case for a genetic relationship based on the literary dependence of a New Testament writer on a Qumran document. Instead, each contributor has attempted to demonstrate that through the disciplined comparison of a selection of texts, religious and/or ideological trends can be discerned that may shed light on the various topoi and/or social histories of the groups involved. Notwithstanding these important aspects, there are three key deficiencies in this collection. First, it is surprising to find no engagement with the work of Jonathan Z. Smith, one of the foremost scholars of religion who has written extensively on comparison as a method and has questioned the supposed stability of religious “beliefs” and “practices” as units for comparison. Second, there is a question about the project’s overall approach to the data, since from an historical perspective the “New Testament” as a distinct entity did not exist prior to 70 C.E. when Qumran groups were active. It would seem to make more historical sense to limit comparison to contemporary Jesus traditions (Q), undisputed Pauline materials, and the traditions that would eventually be subsumed into “noncanonical” sources. Moreover, by comparing Qumran with the New Testament, a living and fluid early Christian textual history has been artificially stabilized. And third, the volume contains numerous typographical errors that distract the reader from the quality of the scholarship (see 65, 66, 68, 97, 111, 159, 195, 205, etc.). Nevertheless, the publication of this collection reflects significant trends in recent scholarship, especially the interchange of social history and textual production, which will pave the way for future research. University of Toronto

© Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2011

David A. Kaden

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Conservatism and Innovation in the Hebrew Language of the Hellenistic Period: Proceedings of a Fourth International Symposium on the Hebrew of the Dead Sea Scrolls & Ben Sira. Edited by Jan Joosten and Jean-Sébastien Rey. STDJ 73. Leiden: Brill, 2008. Pp. xii + 252. Hardcover. € 95.00 / US$ 141.00. ISBN 9789004164048. This volume consists of fifteen essays, most of which study the Hebrew language of the Hellenistic period, although two are exercises in textual criticism ( Joosten and Talshir & Talshir). It continues a series from Brill edited by T. Muraoka and J. F. Elwolde (1997, 1999, 2000) which contains proceedings of three prior symposia on the same subject. The volume includes a brief editor’s preface and indices of texts, semitic words and phrases, and modern authors. Four of the essays are in French (Bar-Asher, Joosten, Lemaire, and Rey). The essays address a broad range of topics. Some authors focus on descriptive grammar, including T. Muraoka, who presents a taxonomy of 25 semantic relationships encoded by the construct phrase within a sample of Qumran Hebrew (QH) texts. His data demonstrate a wide variety of significations, but his categories are often arbitrary or vague, such as the category “Pertinence: N1 pertains, applies or is relevant to N2.” P. van Hecke studies word order in existential clauses in QH, appealing to topic, focus, referentiality, and pragmatic importance to explain the exceptions to his identified rules. His appeals are plausible, although the argument would be strengthened by a study of the frequency with which the same phenomena appear in normal clauses with unexceptional word order. From a comparative perspective, M. Eskhult studies the verbal system in QH historical prose texts, instruction (procedural) texts, and wisdom texts, always in comparison with BH. Eskhult makes several useful observations; for example, the liqtol pattern appears where yiqtol or weqatal would be expected in BH procedural discourse. A. Yuditsky provides detailed lists of evidence to support his argument that the Hebrew phonology of the DSS parallels that of the roughly contemporary Hexapla transliterations with respect to the interchangeability of the glides but differs with respect to the pre-guttural insertion of anaptyctic vowels. Working in historical linguistics, B. Isaksson argues that grammatical devices attested in ancient Semitic languages as circumstantial qualifiers (non-obligatory constituents adjunctival to the main predicate), primarily the Arabic ḥ āl device, are used similarly in 1QS. Isaksson implies a common derivation, but the historical argument is lacking the desired supporting examples from the major Semitic languages. In another historical study, S. Schorch argues three separate theses regarding the relationship between Samaritan and Tiberian Hebrew. The reader is referred to external literature for evidence to support central arguments regarding the definite article and the editorial tendencies of the late 2d century B.C.E., making the essay difficult to evaluate on its own terms. One of the volume’s richer contributions is A. Lemaire’s lexicographical study of the QH vocabulary of teaching and learning, focusing on the roots ,‫ ירה‬,‫למד‬ © Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2011

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‫ פשר‬,‫ יסר‬,(‫ הגה )הגי‬,‫ בקש‬,‫ חקר‬,‫ דרש‬,‫ בין‬,‫שכל‬. Comparisons with BH are frequent. W. van Peursen’s more focused lexicographical study concludes that the precise significance of ‫ תחליף‬in Ben Sira cannot be determined with confidence due to scarcity of evidence. Van Peursen’s rigorous methodology considers closely related Hebrew words, the ‫ תקטיל‬noun pattern, Aramaic cognates, textual context, and ancient translations, and leads to appropriately tentative conclusions. In another word study, M. Bar-Asher argues that ‫ מחיגה‬in 4Q374 2 ii 6 represents “mental confusion” rather than something that leads to a merely physical spinning, staggering, or reeling. Bar-Asher’s evidence is not decisive; the possibility remains that the idea of mental confusion, if present, is referenced but is not part of the semantic range of the lexeme itself. The use of language within a community is a common topic. E. Qimron argues that the wayyiqtol was not archaic in the Second Temple period because the decline of the apocopated form in written texts was not complete until the time of the DSS. From an alternative perspective, S. Fassberg argues that the use of the infinitive absolute as a finite verb in late biblical texts is an archaism of a standard literary language because there is not sufficient attestation of it in non-biblical Second Temple sources. (Cf. Qimron’s [1992, 1994] opposing view [57 n. 49].) Fassberg’s methodology of examining contemporary non-biblical texts is exemplary because it allows for the possibility of a literary variety of language that changed more slowly than its spoken counterpart. H. Dihi argues that the presence of twelve linguistic features in Amoraic Hebrew that are elsewhere known only from Ben Sira indicates that the Amoraim were linguistically “innovative,” presumably because they were delving into Ben Sira for lexical resources. However, the possibility remains that this vocabulary survived independently of Ben Sira should also be considered. Finally, in his comparison of Ben Sira and 4QInstruction, J.-S. Rey is unsure whether to attribute syntactic similarities to a shared genre or to a scribal school. The evidence supports only the former suggestion since (1) the similarities mainly involve grammatical structures amenable to proverbial wisdom formulations, and (2) some of the commonalities also occur in Proverbs (cf. Fassberg, “On Syntax and Style in Ben Sira,” 1999). Finally, two essays work in textual critcism. First, J. Joosten argues that the presence of several late linguistic features in the MT “surplus” of Jeremiah indicates that much of it post-dates the LXX Vorlage. He provides an extended case study of Jer 39:11–13, where it is surprising not to find mention of the possibility of homeoteleuton in the LXX from Jer 39:3 to 39:14. Second, D. Talshir and Z. Talshir propose a novel textual history for the obscure Ben Sira 30:18–20 and 20:4. The complex proposal depends on a series of conjectures; for example, the linguistic evidence for their claim that ‫ נאמן‬referred to the guardian of a virgin the use of ‫ נשים נאמנות‬in the DSS to refer to trustworthy women who examined a virgin. Two appendices address (1) whether “the right of the first night” was practiced, and (2) repeated verses within Ben Sira.


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In sum, as is the case with most edited volumes, the main contribution of the collection comes from a few essays that are notable for the strength of their evidence. University of Toronto

Andrew Jones

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Qoumrân et le judaïsme du tournant de notre ère. Actes de la Table Ronde, Collège de France, 16 novembre 2004. Edited by André Lemaire and Simon C. Mimouni. Collection de la Revue des Etudes Juives 40. Paris-Louvain: Peeters, 2006. Paperback. Pp. x + 153. € 38.00. ISBN 9042917601. This collection of essays edited by André Lemaire and Simon C. Mimouni is the result of an international workshop held at the Collège de France in Paris in 2004. The purpose of the workshop was to prepare the ground for a new synthesis of the Qumran discovery, after the publication of all the manuscripts. The editors themselves admit, however, that the publication of the archeological data is not complete yet (15), which limits the scope of the survey that can be undertaken at present. Moreover, in 2004 and even in 2006 the last volume of Aramaic texts edited by Emile Puech (DJD 37) was not yet published. But one will easily grant the organizers of the workshop that, generally speaking, the time for new syntheses on the Dead Sea Scrolls has come. The book opens with a tribute to André Caquot, former Professor of Semitic languages at the Collège de France, who passed away on September 1, 2004. An article by André Lemaire recalls the important work done by André Caquot in Qumran studies right up to his death. Then Simon Mimouni briefly recalls the different hypotheses concerning the origin of the library and the archaeological site of Qumran. The first paper, by Devorah Dimant, is the French version of an article published in Hebrew in Megillot 2 (2004) that examines the interpretation of Isa 40:3 in the Community Rule. In an attempt to re-assess critically well-known affirmations about the history of the community, Dimant stresses that the idea that Qumran was a place of exile where the Teacher of Righteousness fled is unfounded. Neither is “Damascus” in CD to be identified with Qumran. Finally, 1QS VIII 13–16 does not refer to a real exile in a desert. Rather, “to prepare a way in the desert” (Isa 40:3) has to be understood metaphorically as the study of the Torah (a point already made by N. Golb; see 27 n. 36). Dimant further strengthens this interpretation by showing that it conforms to the pesher technique in general, and draws attention to a parallel case in 1QS IX 20, as well as to other metaphorical interpretations of the term “desert” in the Dead Sea Scrolls. Dimant’s conclusion, that the scenario of the Teacher of Righteousness’ exile to Qumran must be considered groundless, is sound, and nicely illustrates the need for a fresh look at the evidence from the scrolls, even well-known ones. Florentino García Martínez then tackles the definition of identity and the perception of the “Other” in the Damascus Document. The group behind CD perceives itself as the remnant of Israel with whom the covenant endures. The members are described as the “elect of Israel” or the “converts of Israel” (in IV 2–4, for instance). In CD it is legitimate to speak of a “new covenant,” since Jewish birth was not enough for one to be part of the covenant. The “Other” mainly © Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2011

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refers to the Jews who remain outside of this new covenant, whereas Gentiles are not a real issue. As far as gerim are concerned, García Martínez argues that the term designates the foreign resident permanently integrated to Israel, as in most biblical texts (a conclusion which I already defended in my article published in RevQ 74 [1999], and which was further endorsed by D. Hamidovic in the collective volume L’étranger dans la Bible et ses lectures [2007]). Finally, García Martínez rightly underlines the paradoxical situation of the ger: whereas a ger cannot cross the border and become a member of the Israel “according to the flesh,” he can become a member of the faithful remnant of Israel represented by the community of CD. Francis Schmidt’s article deals with the issue of astrology and predestination at Qumran, through an analysis of: (1) the term môlad, which in an astrological context refers to the positions of the stars at the moment of conception or birth, and the related expression bet môladîm; (2) the notion of raz nihyeh, which he translates as “le mystère de ce qui doit être” (“the mystery of what is supposed to be”), stressing that it pertains to all periods of history, and consists of revealed knowledge. The association of môlad and raz nihyeh in 4QInstruction (4Q216 2 iii) shows that astrological knowledge helps to grasp the predetermined plan of God from the time of creation, concerning past, present and future events; it cannot be reduced to a mere human knowledge. Finally, astrology implies astral determinism, but the latter is subjected to predestination and is an expression of God’s predetermined plan. André Lemaire tackles the issue of reading, writing, and teaching among the Essenes, the Sadducees and the Pharisees. He first underlines that Qumran must have been a sort of bet midrash, because in antiquity the existence of a library generally implied a teaching activity. But the multiple copies of several books show that individual study of written texts, which were recited and meditated, took place at Qumran or within the Essene movement at large. Moreover, scribal activity seems to have been very developed at the Qumran site. Finally, specific periods of study under sacerdotal guidance are mentioned in the Qumran sectarian texts. Both priests and books therefore played an important role in Essene teaching. The Sadducean tradition of teaching was probably focused on written books as well, but the books must have been fewer than among the Essenes. Finally, Pharisaic teaching was oral and in general the rabbis were not priests. André Lemaire concludes that these differences in teaching systems and methods partly explain the divergences in terms of halakah. In his contribution, Emile Puech returns to the topic of his doctoral dissertation on the Essene beliefs in different forms of “future life.” He first recalls the testimony of biblical texts such as Dan 12:1–3 and Isa 26:14,19, and then proceeds to examine a great variety of Qumran texts. He concludes that the eschatological ideas of the Qumran compositions directly depend on the prophetic and sapiential texts from the Bible, and that the belief in resurrection did not originate

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in the context of the persecutions under Antiochus IV, but existed already before. Texts from the 2nd century B.C.E. mainly mention resurrection as an “awakening,” but the Messianic Apocalypse (4Q521) seems to mention the crossing of a bridge after the resurrection of the faithful and the wicked of Israel, before the last judgment. The expected resurrection does not mean a coming alive of the dead body, but a bodily dimension exists nevertheless: one may speak of a spiritual body (as Paul in 1 Cor 15). Finally, the ideas found in the Qumran texts radically differ from the belief in the immortality of the soul. In his paper on the Aramaic manuscripts of Enoch, Michael Langlois, who published in 2008 his doctoral dissertation on the first Qumran manuscript of the Book of Enoch (4Q201) (with the Editions du Cerf ), presents the new manuscript evidence in Aramaic, Greek (the manuscripts from Cave 7) and Ethiopic (K-9 and EMML 2080), underlying the superior quality of K-9, the most ancient and the most reliable Ethiopic manuscript of Enoch. He also describes how computer programs allow scholars to better decipher the manuscripts or improve restitutions in the lacunas, giving a few concrete examples. Moving to a comparison of Qumran and Christian texts, Folker Siegert’s article aims at showing how the Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice and the Gospel of John reflect forms of Jewish communal mysticism from the Second Temple Period (to be distinguished from individual forms of mysticism, as in 1 Enoch or Philo). The comparison between specific passages from the Songs and from the Gospel of John (be it in the “original” gospel reconstructed by Siegert or in what he considers later additions) does reveal some similarities, but in my view it mainly highlights marked differences, and even oppositions, as Siegert himself admits (see, e.g., 135, on 4Q402 frg. 1). The final paper, by Simon Mimouni, briefly surveys previous research on Qumran and the origins of Christianity, and compares Essene and Christian messianisms. Whereas for Christians the messiah has come, in the Qumran texts he is still to come. Whereas for Christians the messiah atones for the sins of human beings and saves them, the precise functions of the messiahs mentioned in the Qumran texts remain unclear (except perhaps in 4Q521, one could add). Whereas Christians believe in a Davidic messiah alone, the Qumran texts refer to a priestly and a political messiah; however, in the Epistle to the Hebrews Jesus becomes a high priest or a king-priest similar to Melchizedek, and there he could thus be seen as combining the functions of the priestly and the political messiah. In a concluding note, André Lemaire underlines the necessity to: (1) continue the thorough work of improving the editio princeps of the scrolls; (2) try to provide a new interpretation of the scrolls based on the complete corpus; (3) take into account the political and cultural background of the texts, be it Babylonian (as in the case of the astrological texts) or Hellenistic, as well as their complex relationships with other currents of Second Temple Judaism and with early Christianity.


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In the context of an ever-growing number of very specialized publications on the Dead Sea Scrolls, this small book (153 p.) is a modest contribution to the field of Qumran Studies, but it contains significant articles that should not be ignored. Centre de Recherche Français à Jérusalem

Katell Berthelot

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Lʾaraméen des manuscrits de la mer Morte, I. Grammaire. By U. Schattner-Rieser. Instruments pour l’étude des langues de l’Orient Ancien 5. Editions du Zèbre Belfort, 2004. Broché 16,5 x 24. Pp. 180. ISBN 2940351031. Après les volumes de K. Beyer, Die aramäischen Texte vom Toten Meer (Göttingen 1984 et Ergänzungsband (1994), l’a. a voulu avec ce petit livre qui reprend l’ensemble des traits pertinents de sa thèse en 1998, « fournir un outil de travail sur l’araméen des manuscrits de la mer Morte et d’autres cachettes de la rive occidentale ». Pour ce faire, elle utilise The Dead Sea Scrolls Study Edition, par F. García Martínez – E. Tigchelaar, Leiden 1997–1998 et diverses éditions sur CD (p. 7). Est donnée d’abord (p. 11–13) une liste d’abréviations des textes de la mer Morte en hébreu et en araméen, liste qui ne laisse pas de surprendre soit par les tournures anglaises telles En(och) au lieu de Hénoch et même 4QenGiants, 4QParoles de Michaël au lieu de Michel, soit par des changements de titres tels 4QFils de Dieu (mais Apocalypse du Fils de Dieu p. 25,27, etc.) au lieu de 4QApocryphe de Daniel, 4QÉlu de Dieu ou 4QMess. au lieu de 4QNaissance de Noé, 4QHur et Miryam (mais Miriam p. 27, . . .) au lieu de 4QVisions de ʿAmramg?, 4QapJa(c) (p. 99) au lieu de 4QTJa, 4QapLév (mais 4QTLévid(?) = 4QAharonicText A p. 37, 4QAhA = 4QTLévid, p. 57, 59, etc.) au lieu de 4QApocryphe de Lévib(?) des éditions officielles parues en 1996 et 2001, sans compter des titres inexacts tels 4QPrEsther (mais Histoires de la cour Perse = 4QProto-Esther a–f, p. 27, etc.), au lieu de 4QJuifs à la cour perse, 4QDaniel-Suzanne au lieu de 4QRécit, 4QDémons au lieu de 4QLivret magique, ou de faux numéros, tel 4Qchronologie biblique 4Q599 au lieu de 4QChronologie biblique 4Q559. On pourrait ainsi multiplier ces exemples. On mesure vite la fantaisie d’une telle liste sans nulle suite logique dans le livre et les limites d’une telle étude avant la publication officielle de tous les manuscrits. On est surpris encore de ne pas voir figurer (p. 13 ou 15) DJD XXVIII, Wadi Daliyeh II, par D. M. Gropp, Oxford 2001, alors que DJD 24 – Wadi Daliyeh Seal Impressions (corriger DJD 23, p. 15) sans texte araméen, est surprenant ici. Dans une Introduction assez sommaire (p. 19–21) l’a. donne son classement de l’araméen en 5 périodes, nommant ‘araméen officiel’ ce qui est généralement dénommé ‘araméen d’empire’ avant l’émergence de dialectes, cette dernière appellation étant adoptée d’ailleurs p. 25 ! Le chapitre 1 (p. 25–31) traite rapidement du ‘corpus, écriture et datation’. L’a. a bien du mal à classer l’araméen des manuscrits qumraniens tant ceux-ci échappent à son classement précédent, soit qu’ils remontent à l’époque perse pour certains d’entre eux, soit qu’ils datent de l’époque hellénistique ancienne pour la plupart, la seule exception à mon avis étant 11QTargumJob, une composition araméenne essénienne de la fin du IIe siècle, mais 1QApGn est certainement antérieur © Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2011

DOI: 10.1163/156851711X581461


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au 1er siècle avant J.-C., si bien qu’on n’a pas à Qumrân de texte représentatif de l’araméen du tournant de notre ère (malgré l’a. p. 25 et 29). S’il est clair que la Communauté qumranienne était multilingue, l’auteur n’apporte aucune preuve que le nabatéen y était connu, ni que l’araméen y était une ‘langue profane’, puisque la plupart des inscriptions et ostraca retrouvés sont en hébreu. Et il est certain que plusieurs compositions araméennes contiennent de nombreux hébraïsmes sans avoir à invoquer, sans preuves, un original hébreu pour les Testaments de Lévi, Qahat et le Livre de Tobie (p. 29). Non seulement le ‘corpus de Qumrân’ (p. 27) est loin d’être à jour (restes d’au moins quelque 900 compositions), mais il comporte des contradictions : la liste des textes dits longs est de 7, non de 6 comme annoncé ! Parmi les textes dits courts, la liste est nettement tronquée. Quant aux ‘documents officiels (4Q344–355)’, leur appartenance au corpus qumranien est loin d’être assurée, et 4Q344 est tout au moins postérieur à l’occupation essénienne. Le corpus des autres grottes est assez mal défini, et l’a. écrit faussement que les textes du Wadi Murabbaʿât « datent de la révolte de Bar Kokhba 132–135 », or certains sont antérieurs, tels Mur 18 daté de 55/6 ap. J.-C., Mur 19 de 111(?), Mur 20 de 117(?). La paléographie et le C14 ne peuvent dater que la copie du manuscrit en donnant un terminus ad quem, mais certainement pas la date de la composition d’un texte, ce que l’a. ne distingue pas clairement avec ‘écrits à Qumrân’ au lieu de ‘(re)copiés à Q.’. Aucun manuscrit araméen de Qumrân n’a été composé après la fin du IIe siècle avant J.-C. Il est donc erroné d’écrire que « la rédaction de l’ensemble des textes s’échelonnerait entre la fin du IIIe siècle avant notre ère et 70 de notre ère » (p. 29). Quant à l’écriture, elle doit tout simplement être qualifiée d’écriture araméenne qui n’a rien d’assyrienne ou de carrée, elle s’inscrit dans l’évolution logique de l’écriture araméenne, évolution différente de l’hébraïque. On ne suivra certainement pas l’a. trouvant en 4Q548 un trait ‘sectaire’ de la composition des Visions de ʿAmram (p. 30), le dualisme n’est pas une création qumranienne même si celui-ci y est fort accentué. La graphie de ʾlhkh en paléohébreu en 4Q243 1 2 peut être un trait du scriptorium qumranien dans la seconde moitié du IIe s. avant J.-C. Les chapitres suivants occupent la partie centrale d’une grammaire : phonétique et phonologie (p. 33–50), morphologie (p. 51–91), particules (p. 93–103), lexique (p. 105–08) et morphosyntaxe et syntaxe (p. 109–35), suivis de paradigmes en appendices (p. 139–44), un index thématique (p. 145s), et une bibliographie (p. 147–72). Il n’est pas exact d’affirmer (p. 33) que l’araméen qumranien atteste exclusivement les formes d( y), dnh et dyl au lieu de zy, znh et zyl, ce que contredit en partie p. 35, puisqu’on connaît plus d’une dizaine d’exemples de zy à Qumrân, tout comme des exemples de zy, znh dans un contrat de mariage de 176 av. J.-C. à Marésha, un emploi en Mur 72 et plus tard encore, ainsi que dans les inscriptions du Garizin à l’époque hellénistique, tout comme l’état emphatique en – ʾ est loin

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d’être réservé au mot ʾrʿʾ en 4Q201 (de même p. 84s)1. Les échanges des sifflantes s-ś sont bien plus fréquents à Qumrân mais on peut difficilement tirer argument d’une correction éventuelle d’une simple faute par le copiste pour signifier des affaiblissements de la consonne emphatique en 4Q201 iv 3 zykʾl corrigée en zyqʾl. On est surpris de ne rien trouver (p. 37–39) sur l’échange des pharyngales-laryngales ḥ et en he et ʾaleph dans ḥ ʾk - hʿk en 4Q543 5–9 7 et 544 1 14 et ʿ-ʾ en ḥ ʿk-ḥ ʾk en 11Q10 (6 fois) provenant de la métathèse de qḥ k >ʿḥ k. La lecture l ʿrzr de Mur 41 4 3 (p. 38) est fautive, ʾl ʿzr de l’éditeur est assurée. On peut discuter bien des options au sujet du ʾaleph et du he quiescent ou consonantique aux formes causatives, dans śgyʾn, etc., c’est loin d’être prouvé. À la p. 42, on aurait attendu le renvoi à 4QHénoch et 11QTJob pour la forme kpʾ. La traduction de ʾsqh « il le fit entrer » est pour le moins surprenante (p. 44). Quant au nun de dissimilation, il est plus fréquent que ne le croit l’a. : avec yd ʿ, ajouter 4QTobie, 5Q212, 4Q530, 4Q534, 4Q542, et avec ʿll, ajouter 11QTJob (1 exemple), 4Q570 et TLévi de la Geniza. En revanche, l’exemple grec ne prouve rien, le maintien du nun est tout aussi probable qu’une dissimilation. Dissimilation en r ou assimilation en s en hébreu, phénicien et ugaritique dans krsy dont la forme est connue en phénicien, en araméen et en arabe (mais kusse akkadien) ? La forme ʿʿ est attestée 7 fois et ʾʿ 4 fois à Qumrân, ce qui demande de nuancer l’affirmation de la p. 45 (« ʿʿ à Qumrân mais ʾʿ dans les Targoums »), la forme ʾʿ se trouve déjà sur des bols de Marésha qui emploient encore zy2. Tout comme il est faux de dire (p. 47) qu’on a toujours les formes ʿmmyʾ et ʿmmyn, voir ʿmyʾ en 4Q553 et ʿmyn en 4Q546 et 6Q14. La forme ʾntty est constante à Qumrân ainsi que ʿllyn qui est certainement la forme ancienne, et non un ajout secondaire (p. 47). Par ‘araméen biblique’ (p. 48), comprendre aussi bien araméen massorétique, car rien ne prouve que la vocalisation soit celle de l’araméen de l’époque en question comme bien des exemples le prouveraient3. Il est imprudent (p. 49s) de qualifier de ‘qumranismes’ les finales en -h, puisque les formes ʾnth par exemple se retrouvent ailleurs, en Esd 7,25, et fréquemment en Daniel, les bols de Marésha, Murabbaʿât et Naḥal Ḥ eber, en nabatéen ʾntʾ, dans des contrats du 2e siècle ap. J.-C., puis en araméen samaritain et targumique, qu’on ne peut transcrire ʾattâ mais ʾantâ (p. 51). Seul 4QDna connaît l’orthogra1

On n’a pas suffisamment prêté attention au tracé des lettres pour les distinguer : axe oblique du ʾalef avec jambage droit, et haste droite du he avec trait horizontal partant de l’haste. 2 Voir E. Eshel, E. Puech, and A. Kloner, « Aramaic Scribal Exercises of the Hellenistic Period from Maresha », BASOR 345 (2007) : 39–62. À côté de la forme ʿq on trouve plus souvent la forme ʾq dans les ostraca iduméens de Maqqédah datés du ive siècle. 3 En passant, le jeu de mots (p. 49) entre « souffrir » (πάσχειν) et psḥ est plus évident en acceptant l’explication proposée par B. Couroyer, « L’origine égyptienne du mot ‘Pâque’ », RB 62 (1955) : 481–96 : « le coup de Yhwh ».


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phe défective ʾnt -ʾantâ là où le TM a toujours la forme pleine. Cette forme n’est donc en rien atypique en araméen de cette époque. Cette forme introduit à la morphologie. Concernant le pronom de la première personne, la forme ʾnʾ est seule attestée en 4Q212, 4Q542 et 4Q552, mais ʾnh partout ailleurs, y compris dans les targums qumraniens. La forme ʾth de 4Q246 est certainement le verbe comme je l’ai rectifié à plusieurs reprises4 et non le pronom lu par Milik que j’avais d’abord accepté. À côté des deux exemples de hw du masculin, il semble bien y avoir un exemple du féminin hy en 4Q558 6 2 à côté de hyʾ en 4 3, des survivances de l’araméen d’empire. La forme ʾnḥ nh se retrouve uniquement en 4Q545 contrastant avec l’usuel ʾnḥ nʾ. La 2ème personne du masc. est connue sous les formes ʾntm (4Q570, 2 fois) comme dans l’araméen d’Égypte, mais ʾntn (4Q201) et ʾntwn ailleurs, montrant une évolution régulière, si bien qu’on ne peut écrire que le changement de m en n est caractéristique de l’époque romaine, ce que la paléographie des manuscrits contredit ouvertement. La 3ème personne de masc. est hmwn en 4Q242 et 11QTgJob et ʾnwn ailleurs, emplois comparables à hmw/hmwn en Esdras et Daniel à côté de ʾnwn, et à hmw (humû) des papyri du Wadi Daliyeh (au lieu du fautif hmn lu par l’a., p. 54) et de -hm des bols de Marésha5. Le féminin est ʾnyn en 4Q201 et 4Q561 comme en Daniel. Les tableaux, p. 56, sont incomplets, il y manque les suffixes des 2ème et 3ème personnes du pluriel en -km et -hm en accord avec ʾntm en 4Q570. À la p. 57, on doit ajouter les manuscrits 4Q531, 4Q534, 4Q536 (aussi -k), 4Q545 (aussi -k), 4Q547, 4Q550 et 4Q569 portant le suffixe -kh à côté de -k. Mais l’explication comme « particule présentative à valeur déictique » paraît peu probable, alors que la présence des deux formes dans un même manuscrit ferait plutôt penser à une intervention du copiste comme c’est le cas ailleurs. Pour le suffixe féminin -hʾ, des corrections sont indispensables (p. 59s) : 4Q537 12 3, mais en 4Q213a 3,16 le ʾaleph est barré, ajouter 4Q539 5 3, 4Q541 10 4, 4Q558 33 i 8 et 4Q584 p6, et ʾbwhʾ est un faux monosyllabique comme chacun sait. Peut-on douter d’une certaine forme d’archaïsme quand des exemples sont connus dans une lettre d’Hermopolis, l’ostracon de Strasbourg et un autre texte datés du 3ème siècle7, d’autant que les textes retrouvés sont peu représentatifs de toute la littérature ancienne ? Le suffixe du masc. pluriel n’est pas exclusivement -hwn comme il est écrit (p. 60), mais aussi -hn en 4Q532, et en 4Q562, 568, 585 e et 586b pour le seul DJD XXXVII vérifié. Le féminin est exclusivement -hn en 4Q545, 4Q554, 570 et 4

Voir E. Puech, « Le ‘Fils de Dieu’ en 4Q246 », ErIs 26 (1999) : 143*–152*, absent de la bibliographie. 5 Je comprends ʾmhm « leur mère », inscription 3 4, cit., p. 49. 6 Je n’ai jamais estimé que 4Q537 a pu appartenir au Testament de Lévi, contrairement à ce que l’a. m’attribue, p. 59. 7 Voir T. Muraoka and B. Porten, A Grammar of Egyptian Aramaic (HdO 32 ; Leiden : Brill, 1998), 51.

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584 v(?). Concernant les pronoms indéfinis, il est faux de dire que m(n)d ʿm ne se trouve que dans le « nabatéen de Nã » (p. 61), on connaît au moins deux emplois à Qumrân : 4Q196 2 2, et 4Q534 (mais pas en 4Q201). Les pronoms démonstratifs à Qumrân sont dnh/ʾ, hdn, zʾ, d ʾ, ʾlh, ʾln et ʾlyn, dnh étant un peu plus fréquent que dnʾ, et dn étant de loin la forme la plus fréquente, parfois à côté de dnh en 4Q531 et 4Q537. Le féminin d ʾ est la forme habituelle mais on a un exemple de zʾ après une correction de zmʾ lui-même suivi de zy, à côté de dn au masc. en 4Q530. La forme hdn est unique en 4Q5448. La forme ancienne ʾlh se retrouve en 4Q5369, 4Q565 et 4Q584. Seules les formes dk et ʾlk du démonstratif éloigné autre que les formes du personnel sont attestées à Qumrân10. La forme du pronom relatif la plus fréquente est dy, mais on trouve encore la forme zy en 4Q206 4 ii 13 et iii 16, alors que dy est présent en 1 xxii 2.3.5, xxvii 11, en 4Q212 iii 25 mais corrigé en dy, déjà en 1 ii 19, puis en iv 13, v 17.18.21.22, en 4Q213a 3 15, en 4Q489 1 1 et 5 1, en 4Q530 2 ii 1 mais dy ailleurs, et 4Q536 2 i 4 mais dy en 2 i+3 10.13, 2 ii 9.10.12.13. Avec ce seul indice on ne peut rien en tirer pour l’ancienneté d’une copie, entièrement corrigée ou pas en dy, puisque zy est encore employé e. g. dans le contrat de mariage de Marésha daté de 176 et les bols inscrits plus ou moins contemporains ainsi que dans les inscriptions du Garizin datées en gros du 4ème au 2ème siècle. La forme apocopée d- assez fréquente à Qumrân, voir 1QApGn xxi 6, 4Q542 1 i 8 et 4Q563 1 4 pour ce type de construction, comparer Dn 2,20, mais aussi dans d’autres constructions, est déjà 8

On ne retient pas la proposition de lecture de l’a. en 4Q529 1 14 : hʾdn (p. 63) au lieu de hʾ dn bien plus simple de mon édition dans l’orthographe du manuscrit, tout comme je ne comprends pas (p. 61) : « L’araméen de Qumrân se distingue de l’araméen d’empire par l’abandon de la forme dnn des pronoms à l’élément déictique /k/ et [et] par des créations nouvelles telles que dnn et hdn qui annoncent l’AT », la forme dnn y est inconnue d’une part et il ne peut être question d’abandon d’une forme ancienne d’autre part, à moins encore d’une erreur pour dnh. En outre, la copie de 4Q544 date de la fin du 2ème siècle avant J.-C. (il faudrait donc corriger p. 63). De même la forme hdʾ peut aussi bien être comprise comme l’interrogatif suivi du pronom féminin que comme le composé féminin lu par l’a., p. 63. 9 D’une part, la lecture ʾlh en 4Q536 2 ii 12 ne peut se traduire par « Dieu » au cas absolu, pace l’a. p. 63, on suivra mon édition du texte, d’autre part, il est erroné de dire que « L’usuel ʾlh de l’AA, de l’AO et de l’AB ne se trouve que dans Jér 10,11 de Qumrân [4Q70,71] ». En araméen biblique il ne se trouve qu’en Esd 5,15 (ketib) et Jr 10,11, il n’y est donc pas usuel et 4Q71 n’a pas conservé ce passage. 10 Une forme dk est attestée en 4Q556a 5 ii 13 qui n’appartient pas à un manuscrit du Livre des Géants « 533 3 15, reclassé 4Q556 frg. 14,3 », et je ne vois pas en quoi cette forme prouverait spécialement « l’ancienneté du modèle de ce manuscrit », (p. 63s).


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attestée sur l’ostracon d’Assur du 7ème siècle : zly (KAI 233 13) et en araméen d’empire. La séquence d ʿlmyn se traduit « des éternités » non « pour l’éternité » (p. 65). Il manque (p. 64) un paragraphe mentionnant l’interrogatif h-, voir les nombreux exemples de la concordance11. Si la lecture ḥ zwtʾ me paraît toujours assurée en 4Q246, je dois accepter maintenant la lecture ksyth en 4Q536 2 ii 10, mais il est difficile d’y voir une forme hébraïque (pace p. 68s). La graphie šnytn est en accord avec celle de ʾntn en 4Q201 1 ii 12. Dans l’édition j’ai lu ypylwn non ypwl en 4Q541 1 ii 2, et ynṭwr est en 4Q534 7 4 (non ii 21), mais rien ne prouve qu’on ait affaire à des hébraïsmes (p. 70), puisque ces formes se retrouvent entre autres dans le Neofiti. La préformante l- à l’imparfait de hwh n’est pas présente partout, il y a des exceptions à Qumrân même, on trouve la forme habituelle avec y- en 4Q546 13 4, 4Q584 i 4, en Testament de Lévi Bodleian a 12, d 14, Cambridge e 11 et 12 (d’après un original qumranien), mais en 1Q21 11 1, lire yḥ zʾ12, et une lecture whwyn est bien préférable en 4Q580 1 ii 7 (DJD XXXVII) (voir p. 71). Et le Neofiti et les targums ne connaissent que la forme en y- comme dans le contrat de mariage de Marésha en 176. La dissimilation d’avec le tétragramme a donc eu une durée limitée après l’époque maccabéenne. On devrait noter la forme peʿîl de wśymt en 4QDnb 7 ii 13 au lieu du fautif w eśumat du TM en Dn 6,18. On doit ajouter (p. 78) la forme ysp en 4Q246 1 ii 6, sans doute au ʾaf ʿel. En 4Q541 24 ii 4 (= Apocryphe de Lévib), lire wʾl tmḥ wlhy non tmḥ y lhy (p. 80), voir mon édition princeps. Mais le verbe slq n’est pas traité exactement comme un p-n (p. 81) puisqu’il y a assimilation régressive, tout comme dans les verbes géminés, de la 3ème consonne à la 2ème : ʿalala > ʿalla >ʿ al, non de la 2ème à la 3ème. Et il est erroné de dire qu’il y a toujours assimilation à l’accompli peʿal (p. 82), voir ‘ll en 4Q560 1 i 3 préférable au participe, tout comme il n’y a pas de redoublement de la 1ère consonne (gutturale) en wʾʿl (p. 82) mais allongement compensé, et les exemples avec dissimilation par n ne se limitent pas à l’AB, voir ynʿlwn en 4Q570 2 4, 7 3, 19 4, 11QTgJob VI 3, mais non en XXXVI 2 de l’édition, à lire tʿwl. Il existe des formes peʿalal non relevées avec śmqmq en 4Q534 1 i 1 et 4Q561 7 2. En 4Q542 1 i 6 kyl ʾyn ne signifie pas « des escrocs » mais des « assimilés/métèques », et bryt šwq « un bas-côté de rue » non « en bordure de rue » (avec inversion) en 4Q554 1 ii 13 (p. 89). Il est inexact de dire que la construction génitivale avec prolepse ne se trouve qu’en 1QApGn et 4Q550 = 4QJuifs à la cour perse (non Proto-Esther p. 91), ajouter 10 6 bʾy]šth dy bgw[šy, et 11QTgJob, elle est connue ailleurs, e.g. 4Q246 (Apocryphe de Daniel) 1 ii 1 brh dy ʾl, 4Q529 1 9 lšmh dy rby m[rʾ ʿlmʾ, 4Q554 1 iii 21 [ bgwʾ ]gwh dy drgʾ = 5Q15 1 ii 4, 5Q15 1 i 9 pwtyh dy d[šy]ʾ, 1 ii 9 wgwhwn dy t[wnyʾ, Testament de Lévi 11

Voir The Dead Sea Scrolls Concordance, I,2 The Non-Biblical Texts from Qumran (ed. M. Abegg et al. ; Leiden : Brill, 2003), 820, mais supprimer 4Q556. 12 Voie E. Puech, « Notes sur le Testament de Lévi de la grotte 1 (1Q21) », RevQ 82 (2003) : 297–310 (absent de la bibliographie).

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Cambridge d 10 šmh dy ʿmrm, parmi les passages conservés. Il faut donc se garder de conclusions hâtives. Le chapitre 4 est consacré aux particules. L’a. écrit (p. 94) que la particule accusative yt est rare mais fréquente dans les prépositions composées, lwt et kwt. En ce qui concerne Qumrân cela est inexact, puisqu’on connaît 12 emplois de yt contre 4 de kwt et 4 de lwt, dont 6 hors des manuscrits mentionnés (bis p. 103 et 121s)13 et il n’est pas prouvé qu’il s’agisse d’une isoglosse (fém.) sous l’influence de l’hébreu, puisque la particule est déjà connue en AA en Syrie du nord. La préposition mn est presque toujours séparée du mot suivant hors le cas du suffixe, et plusieurs hébraïsmes tels mmṣrym, mbytʾl, . . ., ou quelques autres cas mnhwrh, mydk, mrḥ yq, . . ., mais mdyn en 11QTgJob V 4 est un participe (pace p. 94). La forme bdyl est assez bien connue à Qumrân dans des compositions anciennes, autres que celles mentionnées (p. 96, voir DJD XXXVII). À propos de ʾn (p. 96s), il faut distinguer deux usages différents dont l’un est une variante orthographique de hn « si » conditionnel, et l’autre est un interrogatif « où ? », 6 cas de chaque à Qumrân, mais toujours hn « si » à Marésha. En outre, la forme hn ne se rencontre pas dans le targum Onqelos qui emploie la forme hébraïque ʾm que l’on retrouve aussi en 4Q318 (Brontologion) VIII [6] et 9 et ailleurs, à Murabbaʿât, etc., ce que ne mentionne pas l’a., et la particule ʾlw se retrouve aussi en 4Q370 3 2 en plus de 4QDn (pace p. 97, bis 102, mais il y a des mains où la distinction ʾrw/y est tout à fait possible !). L’adverbe lmḥ rty est attesté encore en 3Q12 1 2. En revanche, il n’y a pas de trace de tmh en 4Q533 mais en 4Q558 33 i 2. La forme tnh/ʾ se trouve encore en 4Q205, 530 et 551 doublant le nombre des compositions en question. Concernant ʾn, aux 3 cas relevés (mais 4QHenAstr‘ n’entre pas en ligne de compte pour l’interrogation), il faut ajouter sans doute 4Q203 14,4, mais non 4Q543, 552 et 553. L’adverbe (b)lḥ wd est attesté dans bien plus de 4 textes à Qumrân, aussi en 4Q197 4 i 18 et 4Q550 6 4. L’adverbe lḥ d ʾ se trouve ailleurs que dans 1QApGn, mais encore dans 4Q542 et les Visions d ʾAmram 4Q543, et même lié à śgy(ʾ) en 4Q544 et 545. La séquence ḥ syr ʾw ytyr (p. 100) ne se traduit pas « plus ou moins » mais « moins ou plus » (NḤ 9 3 = DJD XXVII, non 48,3). L’usage sporadique de hʾ ailleurs que dans les 4 manuscrits mentionnés (p. 101) se retrouve de fait dans 7 à 8 autres compositions ! Le vocatif yʾ ne se trouve pas en 4Q204 5 i 24 (pace p. 102). On a du mal à trouver un quelconque rapport entre « voici » et « ici » traduisant lkh sur la plaque d’Uzziah (pace p. 102). Le chapitre V traite rapidement du lexique (p. 105–08), mais on doute de certaines significations, telles krp « repousser », mdynh « ville » au lieu de « province » encore à cette époque comme le prouvent les emplois côte à côte de qryh et mdynh en 4Q571 1 12–13 et 4Q550 7 4 et 8 3, y compris 1QApGn XXII 4 et 514. Aux 13

Mais lire 4Q554 1 i 13, non 554a 1 iii 14, et en 5Q1 i 17, lire wtr[yn au lieu de yt d[ de l’editio princeps (DJD III p. 190). 14 Malgré la note de J.C. Greenfield – M. Sokoloff, « The Contribution


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hébraïsmes, ajouter ʾyš, etc., et on doute de l’emprunt au syriaque (p. 107), il s’agit plutôt de mots araméens connus ultérieurement dans l’araméen oriental dont le syriaque. La liste des noms propres d’emprunt est loin d’être complète, ḥ wbbs/ś, les noms des Géants, de rois, de personnages et toponymes. Le dernier chapitre traite les ‘morphosyntaxe et syntaxe’15. Ces pages comprennent une abondance impressionnante d’erreurs, fautes de style en français, nombreuses inversions, transcriptions et traductions fautives, lectures erronées, références fausses. 4Q201 I 4 doit être lu wʾnh ʾmr « et moi, j’ai dit » et en II 12, comprendre « mais vous, vous avez changé », non « c’est vous qui avez changé ? », corriger les citations de 1QApGn XIX 7, XXI 6, Dn 4,1 (p. 110), et la séquence mlkwt rbwtkh ne signifie pas « ton grand royaume » (= mlkwtk rbtʾ), mais « ton glorieux règne ». 4Q534 1 i 3 porte šnyn dn mn dn wd ʿh . . . « différents l’un de l’autre, et la connaissance . . . », non « l’un comme l’autre saura » en tête d’une proposition, ni ]qrb kdn / ne signifie pas « un combat comme celui-ci » en 4Q547 5 2 (p. 113s). De même comprendre 4Q206 2 ii 2 « pour ceci ont été faits . . . » non « pour cela ils ont été faits », et 2 ii 6 « cet esprit qui accus]e de qui est-il qu’ainsi[ » non « de qui est-elle comme celui-ci », et 4Q204 1 vi 28 « plus grand que celui-ci » non « plus que celui-ci » (p. 114). Traduire 4Q544 1 12 bmn mnnʾ « par lequel d’entre nous » non « à qui est », et 2 12 « celui-ci, qui est-il ? » non « qui est ce (veilleur) ». En 6Q8 1 5 comprendre « ce que », non « quoi que ce soit qui ». On doit ajouter (p. 115) d’autres usages de dy comme conjonction temporelle, causale, finale, consécutive. Avec une trentaine d’exemples, on ne peut pas dire que la défense avec ʾl soit rare dans les fragments de Qumrân (p. 117). Comprendre 4Q544 1 10 « et voici que deux disputaient à mon sujet » (pace p. 120). La nuance du participe pour exprimer les présent, passé ou futur dépend du contexte quand il est préservé, ce qui n’est pas toujours le cas avec des fragments, et bien des nuances de sens sur le verbe ‘être’ postposé ou préposé (p. 120) m’échappent. Des verbes de mouvement se construisent aussi avec lwt et pas uniquement avec ʿl (pace p. 123). 1QApGn XIX 12 n’est pas un exemple d’une chaîne d’états construits, un seul comme les cas habituels (corriger nhr en nhrʾ) (p. 124). Puisque l’infinitif est une des deux formes nominales du verbe (p. 116), il devrait être traité avec le participe dans la morphosyntaxe du verbe et non avec le nom (p. 126). 11QTgJob XIII 6 est à traduire « lorsqu’il fit pour le vent[ » et non « lorsqu’il fit le vent », et of Qumrân Aramaic to the Aramaic Vocabulary », Studies in Aramaic 3 (ed. T. Muraoka ; Paris-Louvain : Peeters, 1992), 78–98, p. 89 citant Kutscher, Damas a été longtemps considéré comme une oasis avec ses environs – plus que comme une ville à proprement parler, dans les textes cunéiformes et araméens, il est plus vraisemblable que ce sens soit encore celui de ces textes qumraniens. 15 On est surpris de lire que « Les Testaments . . . offrent l’avantage d’être écrits d’une seule main », p. 109, quid des Visions/Testament d’Amram ou du Testament de Lévi par exemple ?

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XXX 2 « lorsque je faisais la terre », non « (lors de) ma création de la terre ». En 4Q542 1 ii 5 lire lmdn dyn « pour juger le jugement » (p. 126). Il est dit qu’ « en principe les nombres cardinaux précèdent le nom, tandis que les ordinaux le suivent » (p. 127), or dans la plupart des exemples donnés les cardinaux sont postposés avec quelques exceptions. Mais qnyn tltyʾ (p. 128) ne peut être traduit « la troisième (rue) », la référence est en 4Q554 1 ii 17 sans qnyn mais lire wtlytyʾ. La construction de 5Q15 1 i 9 n’est pas exactement celle décrite (p. 128) mais : ʿ]l kl trʿ wtrʿ dšyn tryn « su]r/à chaque porte, et une porte a deux vantaux ». Les exemples donnés (p. 129) sont des emplois impersonnels, non démonstratifs. Comprendre 4QGéants 8 4, « Hénoch, le scribe de discernement » non « Énoch, le scribe distingué » (p. 129). Il est surprenant d’apprendre qu’une relative peut être introduite par une conjonction autre qu’un pronom relatif (p. 131). Les formes kdy, ʿd dy, mn dy ne sont pas des relatifs (p. 131) mais des conjonctions temporelles composées, (voir p. 132 et Rosenthal, Grammar, § 86). À la p. 133 e., lire dy ʾntwn dḥ lyn (4Q550 7 1) pour illustrer le cas envisagé (corriger le sigle, le titre et le fragment, ainsi que dans l’exemple suivant, 4Q550 5 6), et p. 133 f. lire : wkʿn lk ʾnh mḥ wh brz. L’exemple de 1QApGn II 8 au § II a. (p. 134) pour la séquence ‘particule-V-S’ est certainement fautif, car il illustre la séquence S-V. Dans la séquence V-O-S, l’objet est en fait une préposition avec un suffixe (ces cas auraient mérité une note), et en 4Q246 1 ii 7 l’exemple illustre la séquence S-O-V et non O-V-S comme supposé (p. 135). Enfin les paradigmes (p. 139–44) reprennent ceux des pages précédentes avec leurs manques et leurs erreurs. Dans la bibliographie sélective, je relève entre autres l’absence de ma note « Sur la dissimilation de l’interdentale ḍ en araméen qumranien. A propos d’un chaînon manquant », RevQ 76 (2000) : 607–16, qui ne va pas dans le sens des conclusions de l’a. En fin de compte, il est difficile d’apprécier ce petit livre qui donne l’essentiel d’une thèse de 1998, souvent citée mais dont je n’ai pas connaissance, tout comme de la traduction des textes par l’a. Le texte n’a visiblement pas été mis à jour ou si peu depuis lors, (quelques éléments bibliographiques vont jusqu’en 2000) et encore souvent maladroitement, sans révision quelque peu soignée par l’auteur et son réviseur, compte tenu des nombreuses fautes qui déparent toutes les pages, à commencer e.g. par l’en-tête (pages de gauche) « . . . l’araméen de la mere morte . . . » au lieu de « la mer Morte », « chaire » au lieu de « chair » (p. 36), etc. La langue et le style français sont aussi assez malmenés (e.g. p. 8 § 5 l. 2 « aux » pour « à », p. 39 § d. l. 2, « à » au lieu de « et », ditto p. 51 § a.1ère phrase, p. 85 « en l’araméen » lire « en araméen », p. 109 bas « équivaloir à ‘même’ », p. 125 1er § « Nous avons entendu ci-avant . . . il y a à différencier . . . »), orthographe, accords (masc., fém., e.g. p. 130 e. ll. 4–5 « nominale » et « suivie »), mots et phrases incompréhensibles (e.g. p. 79 1er § 2ème phrase, p. 95 4ème § l. 2, « Elle. »), références fausses (sigles, titres, fragments, lignes), transcriptions et fréquentes inversions dans les mots et les phrases (e.g. p. 78 3ème §, p. 89 § 5 et 6, les deux derniers §, p. 108 3 fautes dans les trans-


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criptions-traductions), traductions fautives (je n’en ai relevé que quelques unes ci-dessus). Cela dépare grandement le livre, tout comme les accès aux éditions officielles dont l’a. ne semble pas faire grand cas. On a donc affaire à une grammaire peu soignée, bien imparfaite, bref le résultat d’une entreprise non mature qui aurait dû attendre la publication des textes. Les remarques ci-dessus en ont relevé certains défauts ou manques, principalement concernant les manuscrits araméens de Qumrân, pour mettre en garde le lecteur dans l’utilisation de cette grammaire qui ne peut servir de synthèse fiable ni fournir un outil de travail satisfaisant sur l’araméen de Qumrân pour ne rien dire du reste. CNRS – EBAF

Émile Puech

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Qumran Cave 1.III: 1QHodayota: With Incorporation of 1QHodayot b and 4QHodayot a–f. By Hartmut Stegemann with Eileen Schuller. Translation of Texts by Carol Newsom. DJD XL. Oxford: Clarendon, 2009. Pp. 410 + xxvi plates. Hardcover. US$ 180.00. ISBN 9780199550050. The scroll of 1QHa is one of the largest scrolls from Cave 1 and was among the first to have been discovered. It is also a scroll that is marked by some striking coincidences. Eleazar Sukenik’s edition of 1QHa was published after his death in 1954 by Nahman Avigad, and regrettably Hartmut Stegemann’s work has also been published after his sudden death in 2007. Sukenik’s 1954 edition of this scroll was not, however, the public’s first glimpse of it. On two separate occasions, Sukenik published a few well-preserved columns from 1QHa, the first as early as 1948. And so now, more than sixty years from the time of Sukenik’s first glimpse of 1QHa in 1948, the long-awaited material reconstruction of this scroll is finally available in DJD XL and it is much welcomed. Working through Stegemann’s notes on its complex reconstruction and its many associated fragments is not an easy task but one that was ably performed by Eileen Schuller, who should be greatly commended for her care in seeing Stegemann’s work to completion. Schuller’s recounting of her own personal experiences with Stegemann gives insight into his intellectual integrity, great generosity of spirit, and his unfailing dedication. The material reconstruction of 1QHa has a long and complex history that is well-described by Eileen Schuller. Her care and attention to accurately representing the work of Hartmut Stegemann is everywhere present in this DJD XL edition, which is based largely on the original work that he did for his dissertation at the University of Heidelberg in 1963. It also includes the many improvements and changes that Stegemann made to his reconstruction throughout the years. Given the importance of his dissertation for this critical edition, it is regrettable that the entry for it appears with numerous misspellings in the bibliography found on p. xx (the correct title appears in Schuller’s Introduction, p. 3). Schuller is careful to acknowledge the independent reconstruction results achieved by Émile Puech in the 1980s. She also notes that Puech’s identification and placement of ten fragments were incorporated by Stegemann into his working copy of his reconstruction and into this DJD volume (6). The English translation of this scroll is by Carol Newsom. There are a couple of things that readers should be alerted to as they work with the Hebrew text of this impressive edition. Schuller notes that this edition of 1QHa follows Stegemann’s private practice of using only open circlets over letters that are in any way damaged or uncertain, even when there is reasonable certainty in favor of a particular reading. The degree of certainty of a particular reading is only expressed in the notes to the text and not with the opened or closed circlet that appears (7 n. 23). This practice of following Stegemann’s private system for circlets, despite the DJD norms, reflects the extent to which Schuller has sought © Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, 2011

DOI: 10.1163/156851711X581470


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to produce an edition in exactly the same way that Stegemann would have. Readers also should be alerted to an error in the Hebrew text. A graphic confusion has occurred between a resh and a dalet in the Hebrew text of 1QHa XVIII 29 where ֯‫ יכבדו‬was incorrectly printed in DJD XL as ֯‫יכברו‬. It does, however, appear correctly in the concordance (353). This word appears in a rather well-known instance of 1QHa citing the wisdom text, 4QInstruction, a text that many think is a nonsectarian scroll. There is also one verb, appearing in three places (1QH XI 13, 34 and also XV 7), that may need to be reconsidered. The DJD XL interpretation of this root as the hiphil form of the root ‫“( רוע‬groan”) results in a peculiar rendering of the verb in XI 13 (‫)ויריעו‬, especially when joined with the noun in the following line: ‫ויריעו אושי קיר כאוניה על פני מים‬. The editors translate this as “the foundations of the wall groan like a ship upon the surface of the waters.” While the auditory meaning that comes with the qal form of the verb ‫“ רוע‬to shout” might fit in the instance of the verb in 1QHa XI 34, (‫)וכול מחשביה יריעו‬, it raises questions in the context of 1QHa XI 13 since both the foundations of a wall and of a ship on the sea are things that are seen and not heard. The reasoning offered in the notes to XI 13 insists that there is a parallel with the auditory reference that comes later, “‫ בקול המון‬. . . ‫ויהמו‬.” The context of the verb in question in 1QH XI 13, however, demands that the immediate comparison is with the phrase “like a ship on the surface of the water,” which is clearly a visual and not an auditory image. Instead of interpreting these letters as the hiphil of ‫)יָ ִריעוּ( רוע‬, it is possible to understand these letters as the imperfect hiphil form of the root ‫ רעע‬-II (‫)ויריעו‬ which, according to Jastrow, can carry the meaning “to shake or impair” (Jastrow, p. 1488). The pointing of this verb would then be ‫ וַ יׇּ ֵריעוּ‬which would yield: “the foundations of the wall shake like a ship on the surface of the water.” Such an interpretation of the form as the imperfect hiphil of ‫ רעע‬is especially fitting in light of the text in 1QHa XV, 7 (‫ )ויריעו כול אושי מבניתי ועצמי יתפרדו‬where the verb appears in nice parallelism with the following image: “All the foundations of my frame shake, and my bones are rattled.” Such a reading makes better sense than the reading that the editors of DJD XL propose where no parallelism is evident: “All the foundations of my frame groan, and my bones are dislocated.” DJD XL publishes for the first time the material reconstruction of the scroll with the most accurate column and line numberings. Because the pattern that appeared from the various damages throughout the scroll was crucial for Stegemann’s work, the inclusion of a foldout of each manuscript sheet is helpful, although readers should continue to consult the photos in Sukenik’s edition for views of the manuscript sheets when it was first unrolled. Having a panoramic view of the scroll in DJD XL makes it easy to see the final reconstruction of 1QHa at a glance, revealing interesting aspects of the scroll. Hopefully scholars and students alike will rely upon the DJD XL numbering of 1QHa, which differs by a few lines and other details from that found in the Dead

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Sea Scrolls Study Edition (1997, 1998) and the Dead Sea Scrolls Electronic Library (2006). Movement toward the standardization of even the most basic things as the numbering of the columns and lines should ensure the broader engagement and study of this very interesting scroll in subsequent years. It is clear that this excellent volume is a significant contribution to the study of the Hodayot scroll from Cave 1. Fairfield University, Fairfield, CT

Angela Kim Harkins

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