Theologies in Conflict in 4 Ezra: Wisdom Debate and Apocalyptic Solution (Supplements to the Journal for the Study of Judaism)

Theologies in Conflict in 4 Ezra

Supplements to the

Journal for the Study of Judaism Editor

John J. Collins The Divinity School, Yale University Associate Editors

Florentino García Martínez Qumran Institute, University of Groningen

Hindy Najman Department of Near and Middle Eastern Civilizations University of Toronto Advisory Board

j. duhaime – a. hilhorst – p.w. van der horst a. klostergaard petersen – m.a. knibb j.t.a.g.m. van ruiten – j. sievers – g. stemberger e.j.c. tigchelaar – j. tromp

VOLUME 130

Theologies in Conflict in 4 Ezra Wisdom Debate and Apocalyptic Solution

By

Karina Martin Hogan

LEIDEN • BOSTON 2008

This book is printed on acid-free paper. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication-Data Hogan, Karina Martin. Theologies in conflict in 4 Ezra : wisdom, debate, and apocalyptic solution / by Karina Martin Hogan. p. cm. — (Supplements to the Journal for the study of Judaism) Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-90-04-12969-6 (hardback : alk. paper) 1. Bible. O.T. Ezra IV—Criticism, interpretation, etc. 2. Covenants—Biblical teaching. 3. Eschatology—Biblical teaching. I. Title. II. Series. BS1355.52.H64 2008 229’.106—dc22

2008032872

ISSN 1384-2161 ISBN 978 90 04 12969 6 Copyright 2008 by Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, The Netherlands. Koninklijke Brill NV incorporates the imprints Brill, Hotei Publishing, IDC Publishers, Martinus Nijhoff Publishers and VSP. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, translated, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission from the publisher. Authorization to photocopy items for internal or personal use is granted by Koninklijke Brill NV provided that the appropriate fees are paid directly to The Copyright Clearance Center, 222 Rosewood Drive, Suite 910, Danvers, MA 01923, USA. Fees are subject to change. printed in the netherlands

For John, Maeve and Aoife

CONTENTS Acknowledgements ..................................................................... Abbreviations ..............................................................................

xi xiii

Chapter One Introduction and History of Scholarship on 4 Ezra ...................................................................................... 1. Introduction ....................................................................... 2. Major Trends in the History of Scholarship on 4 Ezra ... 2.1 The Source-Critical Approach ................................. 2.2 Fourth Ezra as Theological Debate ......................... 2.3 The Literary-Psychological Approach ..................... 2.4 Moving Toward a Synthesis .................................... 3. The Present Study .............................................................

1 1 9 9 15 21 32 35

Chapter Two The Sapiential Background of the Conflicting Theologies in the Dialogues of 4 Ezra .................................. 1. Introduction ....................................................................... 2. Eschatological Wisdom: 4QInstruction ............................ 2.1 Epistemology: Revealed Wisdom ............................. 2.2 Election and Determinism ....................................... 2.3 Anthropology and Interpretation of Genesis 1–3 ... 2.4 Divine Justice and Mercy ......................................... 2.5 Eschatology: The Final Judgment and Salvation of the Righteous ............................................................ 2.6 4QInstruction in Relation to the Wisdom and Apocalyptic Traditions ............................................. 3. Covenantal Wisdom: Sirach and Baruch 3:9–4:4 ............ 3.1 The Wisdom-Torah Synthesis ................................. 3.2 Election and Covenant ............................................. 3.3 Anthropology and Moral Responsibility ................. 3.4 Epistemology ............................................................. 3.5 Divine Judgment and Mercy ................................... 3.6 The Place of Sirach and Baruch 3:9–4:4 in the Wisdom Tradition ....................................................

41 41 45 48 52 54 60 61 66 71 76 85 89 93 96 98

viii

contents

Chapter Three The Dialogues of 4 Ezra as a Wisdom Debate .................................................................................... 1. Introduction ....................................................................... 2. Narrative Overview of the Dialogues ............................... 3. The Content of the Debate ............................................... 3.1 Anthropology and Moral Responsibility ................. 3.2 Epistemology ............................................................. 3.3 Election, Covenant and Salvation ........................... 3.4 The Significance of the Torah ................................. 3.5 Divine Justice and Mercy ......................................... 4. The Eschatology of the Dialogues .................................... 5. The Outcome of the Dialogues: Ezra’s Fourth Lament ... Chapter Four The Apocalyptic Solution of the Visions ......... 1. Introduction ....................................................................... 2. Narrative Overview of Ezra’s Transformation ................. 2.1 Prior to the Turning Point: “Consoling” the Mourning Woman .................................................... 2.2 The Turning Point of Ezra’s Transformation ......... 2.3 After the Turning Point: The Completion of Ezra’s Transformation .............................................. 3. The Content of the Visions ............................................... 3.1 The Vision of the Mourning Woman Interpreted ... 3.2 The Vision of the Eagle and its Interpretation ....... Excursus 1: The Details of the Vision of the Eagle and its Date .............................................................. 3.3 The Vision of the Man from the Sea and its Interpretation ............................................................ Excursus 2: The Messiah: Son or Servant of the Most High? ............................................................... 3.4 Conclusions on the Vision of the Man from the Sea 4. The Eschatology of the Visions ........................................ Chapter Five The Epilogue and the Context and Purpose of 4 Ezra .................................................................................... 1. The Epilogue ..................................................................... 1.1 New Moses and Renewed Torah ............................ 1.2 Ezra’s Speech to the People ..................................... 1.3 Ezra’s Scribal Legacy ............................................... 1.4 The Pseudepigraphic Setting ...................................

101 101 103 111 112 120 126 134 143 151 153 159 159 162 163 166 168 173 174 178 182 185 195 198 199 205 205 207 212 214 218

contents

ix

2. The Author’s Social Location and Purpose ..................... 2.1 Social Location and Intended Audience ................. 2.2 The Purpose of 4 Ezra ............................................. 3. Conclusion .........................................................................

222 222 227 231

Bibliography ................................................................................ Indices Ancient Sources ...................................................................... Modern Authors .....................................................................

237 253 269

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS This book is a substantially revised version of my doctoral dissertation (University of Chicago, 2002), directed by John J. Collins. From its inception as a paper in his course on apocalypticism to its completion at the very end of his tenure as editor of the JSJ Supplement Series, John Collins has been this book’s inspiration and its greatest supporter. I am grateful for his incisive comments throughout the development of this project and for his patience and unfailing confidence in me, despite the long delay of its completion. I also wish to thank Mattie Kuiper, Willy de Gijzel, Camila Werner and Machiel Kleemans, editors at Brill, and Florentino García Martínez and Hindy Najman, associate editors of the series, for accepting the book and for their patience and understanding of the delay. Thanks are due to my readers, Adela Yarbro Collins and Michael Fishbane, for their invaluable input at the dissertation stage. I also benefited from the comments of the fellows in the Martin Marty Center at the Divinity School, which supported me in the first year of writing the dissertation. Many friends and colleagues have provided assistance and advice at various stages of the project, especially Clare Rothschild, Shannon Burkes, Edward Silver, Deborah Green, Matthew Goff and Hindy Najman. I am also grateful for the emotional support of my colleagues at Fordham, especially my good friends Maureen O’Connell, Terry Klein, Ben Dunning and Jeannine Hill-Fletcher. Finally, I would like to thank my husband, John, and daughters, Maeve and Aoife, for the joy they bring to my life, and for their patience during my long hours of work on this book—which has been in the works for longer than my daughters have been alive. My parents, siblings and in-laws have also offered much needed encouragement along the way. Thanks to my family and friends for believing in me—I could not have finished this without you.

ABBREVIATIONS Abbreviations follow the SBL Handbook of Style (ed. Patrick H. Alexander et al.; Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 1999). AB ABD ABRL AGJU AnBib ANRW Ant. APAT Apoc. Ab. APOT ATANT AUSS 2 Bar BBB BBR BETL Bib BibS(F) BJS b. Sanh. BZ BZAW BZNW C. Ap. CBC CBQ CBQMS ConBNT CRINT CSHJ Diss. DJD DSD 1 En 2 En EncJud EPRO ET FRLANT

Anchor Bible Anchor Bible Dictionary. Edited by D. N. Freedman. 6 vols. New York, 1992 Anchor Bible Reference Library Arbeiten zur Geschichte des antike Judentums und des Urchristentums Analecta biblica Aufstieg und Niedergang der römischen Welt: Geschichte und Kultur Roms im Spiegel der neueren Forschung. Edited by H. Temporini and W. Haase. Berlin, 1972– Jewish Antiquities ( Josephus) Die Apokryphen und Pseudepigraphen des Alten Testaments. Translated and edited by E. Kautzsch. 2 vols. Tübingen, 1900 Apocalypse of Abraham The Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha of the Old Testament. Edited by R. H. Charles. 2 vols. Oxford, 1913 Abhandlungen zur Theologie des Alten und Neuen Testaments Andrews University Seminary Studies 2 Baruch (Syriac apocalypse) Bonner biblische Beiträge Bulletin for Biblical Research Bibliotheca ephemeridum theologicarum lovaniensium Biblica Biblische Studien (Freiburg, 1895–) Brown Judaic Studies Babylonian Talmud Treatise Sanhedrin Biblische Zeitschrift Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die neutestamentliche Wissenschaft Contra Apionem ( Josephus) Cambridge Bible Commentary Catholic Biblical Quarterly Catholic Biblical Quarterly Manuscript Series Coniectanea biblica: New Testament Series Compendia rerum iudaicarum ad Novum Testamentum Chicago Studies in the History of Judaism Dissertation Discoveries in the Judaean Desert Dead Sea Discoveries 1 Enoch (Ethiopic apocalypse) 2 Enoch (Slavonic apocalypse) Encyclopaedia Judaica. 16 vols. Jerusalem, 1972 Etudes préliminaires aux religions orientales dans l’empire romain English translation Forschungen zur Religion und Literatur des Alten und Neuen Testaments

xiv GCS Gk. GLAE Heb. HR HS HSM HTR HUCA Imm JBL JJS JNSL JQR JR JSHRZ JSJ JSJSup JSNT JSNTSup JSOT JSOTSup JSP JTC JTS Jub L.A.B. L.A.E. Leg LXX m. Avot m. Sanh. MT NF NIB NovT NRSV NS NTS OBT OTL OTP PAAJR Proof PRSt Pss. Sol. 1QS 4Q246 4QFlor 4QpGena 4QpIsaa Repr. RevQ

abbreviations Die griechische christliche Schriftsteller der ersten [drei] Jahrhunderte Greek Greek Life of Adam and Eve Hebrew History of Religions Hebrew Studies Harvard Semitic Monographs Harvard Theological Review Hebrew Union College Annual Immanuel Journal of Biblical Literature Journal of Jewish Studies Journal of Northwest Semitic Languages Jewish Quarterly Review Journal of Religion Jüdische Schriften aus hellenistisch-römischer Zeit Journal for the Study of Judaism in the Persian, Hellenistic and Roman Periods Journal for the Study of Judaism: Supplement Series Journal for the Study of the New Testament Journal for the Study of the New Testament: Supplement Series Journal for the Study of the Old Testament Journal for the Study of the Old Testament: Supplement Series Journal for the Study of the Pseudepigrapha Journal for Theology and the Church Journal of Theological Studies Jubilees Liber antiquitatum biblicarum (Pseudo-Philo) Latin Life of Adam and Eve Legum allegoriae (Philo) Septuagint Mishnah Tractate Avot Mishnah Tractate Sanhedrin Masoretic Text Neue Folge The New Interpreter’s Bible. 13 vols. Nashville, 1994– Novum Testamentum New Revised Standard Version New Series New Testament Studies Overtures to Biblical Theology Old Testament Library Old Testament Pseudepigrapha. Edited by J. H. Charlesworth. 2 vols. New York, 1983–1985 Proceedings of the American Academy of Jewish Research Prooftexts: A Journal of Jewish Literary History Perspectives in Religious Studies Psalms of Solomon Rule of the Community from Qumran Cave 1 4QSon of God, also called 4QAramaic Apocalypse and 4QapocrDan ar Florilegium (4Q174) 4QCommentary on Genesis A (4Q252) 4QIsaiah Peshera (4Q161) Reprint(ed) Revue de Qumran

abbreviations RTL SBL SBLDS SBLEJL SBLMS SBLSCS SBLSP SBLSymS SC SemeiaSt SHR Sib. Or. Sifre Deut SJT SNT SNTSMS SPhilo SR STDJ SVTP TDNT T. Mos. TLZ t. Sanh. TUGAL VT VTSup WC WMANT WUNT WUNT II ZAW ZNW

xv

Revue théologique de Louvain Society of Biblical Literature Society of Biblical Literature Dissertation Series Society of Biblical Literature Early Judaism and its Literature Society of Biblical Literature Monograph Series Society of Biblical Literature Septuagint and Cognate Studies Society of Biblical Literature Seminar Papers Society of Biblical Literature Symposium Series Sources chrétiennes. Paris: Cerf, 1943– Semeia Studies Studies in the History of Religions Sibylline Oracles Midrash Sifre on Deuteronomy Scottish Journal of Theology Studien zum Neuen Testament Society for New Testament Studies Monograph Series Studia philonica Studies in Religion Studies on the Texts of the Desert of Judah Studia in Veteris Testamenti pseudepigraphica Theological Dictionary of the New Testament. Edited by G. Kittel and G. Friedrich. Translated by G. W. Bromiley. 10 vols. Grand Rapids, 1964–1976 Testament of Moses Theologische Literaturzeitung Tosefta Tractate Sanhedrin Texte und Untersuchungen zur Geschichte der altchristlichen Literatur Vetus Testamentum Vetus Testamentum Supplements Westminster Commentaries Wissenschaftliche Monographien zum Alten und Neuen Testament Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament, 2. Reihe Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft Zeitschrift für die neutestamentliche Wissenschaft und die Kunde der älteren Kirche

CHAPTER ONE

INTRODUCTION AND HISTORY OF SCHOLARSHIP ON 4 EZRA 1. Introduction Fourth Ezra, a Jewish apocalypse written around 100 c.e., stands out within the apocalyptic literature for the daring way in which it addresses questions of theodicy.1 The author, apparently following the example of the Book of Job, employed the dialogue form to wrestle with these questions. Fourth Ezra is divided into seven episodes, which are traditionally referred to as visions, but in fact only three of them take the form of symbolic visions followed by interpretations.2 The first three episodes, which account for more than half of the book, are contentious dialogues between the seer, Ezra, and an angel, Uriel. The fourth episode begins like the dialogues, with a lament by Ezra, which is followed by a dialogue between Ezra and a mourning woman; but the woman is transformed into a city before Ezra’s eyes, and subsequently their conversation is interpreted as part of a vision of the eschatological Zion. The fifth and sixth episodes are also symbolic visions that are described as dreams and are interpreted by Uriel. The final episode, often referred to as the epilogue, consists of a narrative of

1 Second Baruch, another apocalypse written in the decades following the destruction of 70 c.e., is most similar to 4 Ezra in terms of the type of questions raised by the seer, but Baruch is not nearly so persistent or skeptical as Ezra. He does not dispute the answers to his questions, which for most of the book come directly from the Lord; an angel (Ramael) first appears in chapter 55, to provide a lengthy interpretation (chs. 55–74) of a vision Baruch has in chapter 53. There are so many parallels between 4 Ezra and 2 Baruch that a relationship of literary dependence seems likely; most scholars believe that 2 Baruch was written in response to 4 Ezra. Pierre Bogaert argues inconclusively for the priority of 2 Baruch; see his Apocalypse de Baruch: Introduction, traduction du syriaque et commentaire (Paris: Editions du Cerf, 1969), 287–88. 2 2 Baruch also seems to be divided into seven sections, but they are less clearly marked than in 4 Ezra. Thus two different seven-part structures have been proposed in two dissertations on 2 Baruch: Gwendolyn B. Sayler, Have the Promises Failed? A Literary Analysis of 2 Baruch (SBLDS 72; Chico, Calif.: Scholars Press, 1984) and Frederick James Murphy, The Structure and Meaning of Second Baruch (SBLDS 78; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1985).

2

chapter one

Ezra’s restoration of the Scriptures, along with the dictation of seventy secret books, and ends with his translation to heaven. Two main problems have been the focus of much of the modern scholarship on 4 Ezra. The first is the status of the disagreements between Ezra and Uriel in the dialogues, since it is not clear if one, or both, or neither of them represents the author’s own views. While Uriel speaks with authority—indeed he sometimes speaks in the persona of the Most High—Ezra speaks with a passionate and lyrical eloquence that many readers find compelling. Scholarly attempts to identify the author with either the angel or the seer—and to demonstrate that the opposing point of view is defeated—founder on the lack of a clear resolution to the issues debated in the dialogues. On the other hand, scholars who represent the author’s point of view as a combination of views expressed by Ezra and Uriel are forced to acknowledge its incoherence.3 The present study argues that neither of the interlocutors in the dialogues represents the author’s views at the time of writing. The second problem is the relationship of the dialogues to the visions and epilogue, given that the dialogues themselves are inconclusive and the visions and epilogue do not respond directly to the problems raised in the dialogues. Whereas the dialogues, particularly Uriel’s speeches, focus on universal human concerns and the salvation of individuals in the final judgment, the visions present a national eschatology and the epilogue addresses the present concerns of Israel. Generally, those authors who have devoted their attention to a careful exegesis of the dialogues have tended to minimize the importance of fifth and sixth episodes, the visions of the Eagle and the Man from the Sea. The structure of the work, however, points to the visions and epilogue for the author’s resolution to the problems raised in the dialogues. Therefore, the eschatological hopes expressed in the visions must be taken seriously as part of the message of the book, even though they conflict to some extent with both Ezra’s concerns and Uriel’s eschatological revelations in the dialogues. 3 An example is Claude G. Montefiore, IV Ezra: A Study in the Development of Universalism (Arthur Davis Memorial Lecture; London: Allen & Unwin, 1929). His position is that the author “hates, and rebels against, the doctrine which he feels obliged to teach,” namely that “the vast majority of the human race have gone, and are going, to perdition: as to the Jews, things are rather better, but even with them, not so very much” (ibid., 13). See below, section 2.1, for a discussion of this problem in Richard Kabisch, Das vierte Buch Esra auf seine Quellen untersucht (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprechts Verlag, 1889).

introduction and history of scholarship on 4 ezra

3

Scholarly attempts to resolve these problems of interpretation have been of three main types, which will be reviewed in detail in this chapter. The source-critical method that was dominant in late nineteenth and early twentieth century biblical scholarship was applied to 4 Ezra to draw attention primarily to the second of these two problems (the relationship of the dialogues to the visions and epilogue) and to explain the inconsistencies between the various parts of the book by assigning them to different authors and times of composition.4 A second approach has tended to focus on the first of the two problems (identifying the author’s “voice”), interpreting the dialogues as a representation of theological debates in late first-century c.e. Judaism and identifying the author’s point of view with that of Uriel. The scholars who have followed this “theological debate” approach have either minimized the differences between the visions and Uriel’s arguments in the dialogues, or have resorted to a modified source-critical approach, regarding the fifth and sixth episodes as secondary.5 Hermann Gunkel was the first to challenge the source-critical approach to 4 Ezra from a psychologically informed literary perspective; his interpretation has had followers down to the present, including Michael E. Stone, who has written the most extensive recent commentary on 4 Ezra.6 This literary-psychological interpretation treats 4 Ezra as a literary unity and as a reflection of its author’s progress from a profoundly conflicted state of mind (as reflected in the dialogues) to a more coherent one, through religious experience (as reflected in the visions). In recent years there have been attempts to synthesize the insights of the theological debate interpretation with the literary-psychological approach, as the present study aims to do. The majority of scholars now regard 4 Ezra as a unified literary composition, albeit one that draws on older and sometimes conflicting traditions. For those scholars, the key to understanding the meaning and purpose of 4 Ezra is an appreciation of its structure. The fourth

See below, section 2.1, on the commentaries of Kabisch, Box and Oesterley. The first scholar to draw attention to the dialogue form and to suggest that the author speaks primarily through Uriel was W. Mundle, in an article entitled “Das religiöse Problem des IV. Esrabuches,” ZAW NF 6 (1929): 222–49; see especially 235–36. More recently, the chief proponents of this reading are Egon Brandenburger and Wolfgang Harnisch. See below, section 2.2. 6 Hermann Gunkel, “Das vierte Buch Esra,” in Die Apokryphen und Pseudepigraphen des alten Testaments (ed. E. Kautzsch: Tübingen: Mohr, 1900), 2:331–402; Michael E. Stone, Fourth Ezra: A Commentary on the Book of Fourth Ezra (Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Fortress, 1990). See below, section 2.3. 4 5

4

chapter one

episode is now generally recognized as pivotal, since the transition from dialogue to visionary revelation coincides with a shift in Ezra’s demeanor, such that he becomes a willing recipient of revelation.7 There is no similar consensus on the reason for the author’s choice of the dialogue form for the first three episodes, however. Followers of Gunkel’s psychological approach have seen the dialogues as a vehicle for the author to give voice, through the authoritative persona of Ezra, to his own anguish over the Destruction (of the Second Temple by the Romans in 70 c.e.) and his doubts regarding theodicy; Uriel’s arguments are seen as attempts to console Ezra, with limited success. The followers of the “theological debate” model have focused more on the intellectual content of the dialogues, the purpose of which is to instruct the audience (which is expected to identify with Ezra) in the author’s beliefs about theodicy and eschatology, voiced by Uriel. Neither of these approaches treats the dialogues as a true dialogue between distinct worldviews, each with its own partial access to the truth. The present study argues that the author of 4 Ezra chose the dialogue form in order to represent a debate among sages over a range of theological issues, all viewed from the perspective of the Destruction, and hence bound together by the underlying problem of theodicy. The prevalence of wisdom language in the dialogues suggests that the author was aware that the dialogue form is native to the wisdom traditions of Israel and the ancient Near East; he may also have been aware of its centrality to the philosophical traditions of Greece and, secondarily, Rome.8 The dialogues are a literary representation of a wisdom debate, reflecting the impact of the Destruction on a group of sages not far removed from the early Tannaim, though probably not to be identified with them.9 My reading of the dialogues differs from that of

7 The seminal article that drew scholars’ attention to the structure of 4 Ezra and to the fourth episode as its turning point is Earl Breech, “These Fragments Have I Shored Against my Ruins: The Form and Function of 4 Ezra,” JBL 92 (1973): 267–74. 8 On the dialogue form in ancient Near Eastern wisdom, see Carol A. Newsom, The Book of Job: A Contest of Moral Imaginations (New York: Oxford University Press, 2003), 79–89. A good discussion of the origins of the dialogue form in classical philosophy is Charles H. Kahn, Plato and the Socratic Dialogue: The Philosophical Use of a Literary Form (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996). 9 Gedaliah Alon describes the author of 4 Ezra as “clearly a gifted visionary from circles close to the Sages.” See The Jews in their Land in the Talmudic Age (2 vols., trans. Gershon Levi; Jerusalem: Magnes, 1980), 1:52. It has been argued that the author of 4 Ezra was in fact one of the Tannaim at Yavneh: see Bruce W. Longenecker, “Locating 4 Ezra: A Consideration of its Social Setting and Functions,” JSJ 28 (1997): 271–91. His arguments are discussed in the concluding chapter.

introduction and history of scholarship on 4 ezra

5

Brandenburger and Harnisch in that Ezra’s point of view is seen not as skeptical or heretical, but as grounded in the covenantal wisdom tradition pioneered by Ben Sira, which is a precursor to rabbinic theology. Uriel’s positions reflect the teachings of more eschatologically-oriented sages, perhaps the intellectual descendents of the circles that produced the wisdom texts discovered at Qumran, especially 4QInstruction. The dialogues are inconclusive and appear to be intended to demonstrate the inadequacy of rational discourse in the face of the Destruction. The author’s solution to the intractable theological problems raised in the dialogues is presented in the form of the three symbolic visions and the epilogue. The theology of the visions is similar to that of the visions of Daniel in that they present a divine perspective on human problems, showing that they will be resolved at the appointed time by divine intervention. The epilogue reveals that the intended audience of 4 Ezra is “the wise” and that the book’s purpose is primarily instructive. The book as a whole aims to persuade the wise of the need to move beyond failed attempts to construct a rational theodicy, and to accept the revealed “wisdom” of apocalyptic theology. The present study is thus intended as a contribution to the current scholarly discussion of the relationship between Jewish wisdom and apocalyptic literature. That discussion began as a debate over the origins of apocalypticism, spurred by von Rad’s declaration in his Old Testament Theology that “apocalyptic” is an outgrowth of the wisdom tradition and not, as was generally supposed at the time, of prophecy.10 Few scholars were convinced by von Rad’s arguments, because there is clearly more continuity between the eschatology of the post-exilic prophets and that of the apocalypses than he allowed.11 Moreover, his claim exploited the 10 Gerhard von Rad, Old Testament Theology (2 vols., trans. D. M. G. Stalker; New York: Harper & Row, 1962–1965), 2:301–15. The main arguments he adduced there were that the deterministic and universal view of history in the apocalypses is at odds with the prophetic understanding of salvation history, and that the pseudonymous authors of the apocalypses tend to be famous wise men or scribes (Daniel, Enoch, Ezra, Baruch) rather than prophets. These arguments did not convince many scholars, so he expanded his treatment of the problem in the fourth edition of his Theologie des Alten Testaments (Munich: Kaiser, 1965), 2:316–38. There, he took a traditio-historical approach to the apocalypses, focusing on their highly “learned” and interpretive character and identifying “the final actualizing of older traditions and methods” as the salient characteristic of apocalypticism (p. 327). Later, he argued that the apocalyptic belief in “the divine determination of times” is shared by the wisdom literature. See his Wisdom in Israel (trans. J. D. Martin; Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1978), 263–83. 11 Although the work of Otto Plöger and Paul D. Hanson has been criticized for oversimplifying the political and theological conflicts of the post-exilic period, they persuaded many scholars that the roots of apocalyptic thought are to be sought in

6

chapter one

ambiguity of the terms “wisdom,” “prophecy” and “apocalyptic,” all of which have been and continue to be applied to very diverse material, although a great deal of effort has been devoted to defining them since the time of von Rad.12 H.-P. Müller attempted to defend von Rad’s thesis by specifying that apocalypticism arose out of mantic (as opposed to pedagogical) wisdom.13 That effort ultimately undermined von Rad’s thesis further because a sharp distinction between the phenomena of mantic wisdom (e.g., divination and dream interpretation) and prophecy did not exist in the ancient world generally,14 and post-exilic Israelite prophecy in particular shows the influence of mantic wisdom.15

late prophetic texts such as Trito-Isaiah, Zechariah 9–14, Joel, Ezekiel 38–39 and the so-called Isaianic Apocalypse (Isaiah 24–27). See O. Plöger, Theocracy and Eschatology (trans. S. Rudman: Oxford: Blackwell, 1968) and P. D. Hanson, The Dawn of Apocalyptic: The Historical and Sociological Roots of Jewish Apocalyptic (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1975). For an excellent summary of both sides of the debate on the origins of apocalyptic literature during the 1960’s and 1970’s, see Michael A. Knibb, “Prophecy and the Emergence of the Jewish Apocalypses,” in Israel’s Prophetic Traditions: Essays in Honor of Peter R. Ackroyd (ed. R. Coggins, A. Phillips and M. A. Knibb; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1982), 155–80. 12 John J. Collins, “Wisdom, Apocalypticism, and Generic Compatibility,” in In Search of Wisdom: Essays in Memory of John G. Gammie (ed. L. G. Perdue, B. B. Scott and W. J. Wiseman; Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1993), 167–68. 13 Hans-Peter Müller, “Mantische Weisheit und Apokalyptik,” in Congress Volume: Uppsala, 1971 (VTSup 22; Leiden: Brill, 1972), 268–93. He notes (ibid., 271) that von Rad himself had observed in passing that only certain aspects of wisdom were carried over into “apocalyptic,” especially the sciences of dream-interpretation and of oracles and “signs” (Theologie, 4th edition, p. 330). Müller provided a profile of the mantic sage in Israel based on the Joseph cycle in Genesis and on Dan 1–6, and then argued that many of the ways in which apocalypticism differs from classical prophecy—including determinism, use of symbolic imagery and pseudonymity—can be explained by its background in mantic wisdom. 14 James C. VanderKam, “The Prophetic-Sapiential Origins of Apocalyptic Thought,” in A Word in Season: Essays in Honor of William McKane ( JSOTSup 42; ed. J. D. Martin and P. R. Davies; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1986), 163–76. See also his important book Enoch and the Growth of an Apocalyptic Tradition (CBQMS 16; Washington, D.C.: The Catholic Biblical Association of America, 1984), especially pages 52–75 on the connection between divination and apocalyptic literature. For a recent review of the debate, see Andreas Bedenbender, Der Gott der Welt tritt auf den Sinai: Entstehung, Entwicklung und Funktionsweise der frühjüdischen Apokalyptik (Arbeiten zur neutestamentlichen Theologie und Zeitgeschichte 8; Berlin: Institut Kirche und Judentum, 2000), 62–87. He views “mantic wisdom” as something of a red herring and concludes that the balance of the evidence favors prophecy as the primary matrix of apocalyptic literature. 15 Michael Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation in Ancient Israel (Oxford: Clarendon, 1985), 443–505. Fishbane concludes that the “apocalyptic consciousness” arose from the “hermeneutical-religious tension” occasioned by the mantological exegesis of prophetic oracles (ibid., 485). He explains that while mantological exegesis “occurs in a climate of wisdom and scholarship,” the divine communications it addresses “are quite impervious to human rationality” and the closure it promises depends upon a divine plan

introduction and history of scholarship on 4 ezra

7

What began as a heated debate over the origins of apocalypticism, premised on a false dichotomy between “wisdom” and “prophecy,” soon shifted to a more fruitful discussion of the points of contact between Jewish apocalyptic literature and wisdom literature in the Hellenistic and early Roman periods.16 The groundwork for that discussion was laid in large part by the responses to von Rad’s assertion noted in the previous paragraph. Much progress has been made in defining the terms “apocalypse,” “apocalyptic eschatology” and “apocalypticism.”17 There is less agreement on the definition of wisdom, particularly when the discussion encompasses works outside the biblical canon.18 The

that is beyond human knowledge (ibid., 522). Thus, while treating exoteric oracles as esoteric “codes” temporarily removes the problem of their being unfulfilled or even disconfirmed by history, “[w]hat is ultimately put at stake is the very rational order which gives cognitive coherence to time and its terrors” (ibid., 511). In other words, mantological exegesis, arising out of mantic wisdom, undercuts the basic assumption of pedagogical (proverbial) wisdom that the divine plan is perceptible to human beings through the order of creation. 16 Some of the earliest contributions to this discussion were the following: John G. Gammie, “Spatial and Ethical Dualism in Jewish Wisdom and Apocalyptic Literature,” JBL 93 (1974): 356–85; Michael E. Stone, “Lists of Revealed Things in the Apocalyptic Literature,” in Magnalia Dei, The Mighty Acts of God: Essays on the Bible and Archaeology in Memory of G. Ernest Wright (ed. F. M. Cross, W. E. Lemke and P. D. Miller; Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1976), 414–54; John J. Collins, “Cosmos and Salvation: Jewish Wisdom and Apocalyptic in the Hellenistic Age,” HR 17 (1977): 121–42; M. A. Knibb, “Apocalyptic and Wisdom in 4 Ezra,” JSJ 13 (1982): 56–74; and Frederick J. Murphy, “Sapiential Elements in the Syriac Apocalypse of Baruch,” JQR 76 (1986): 311–27. Two essays that were influential on this discussion, although not focused directly on the Jewish literature, were H. D. Betz, “On the Problem of the ReligioHistorical Understanding of Apocalypticism,” JTC 6 (1969): 146–54 and J. Z. Smith, “Wisdom and Apocalyptic,” in Religious Syncretism in Antiquity: Essays in Conversation with Geo Widengren (ed. B. Pearson; Series on Formative Contemporary Thinkers 1; Missoula, Mont: Scholars Press, 1975), 131–56. The related discussion among New Testament scholars concerning the genre of the sayings source Q does not concern us directly here, but see Collins, “Wisdom, Apocalypticism and Generic Compatibility,” 165–66, 181–85 for a summary. 17 This three-fold distinction was first suggested by Paul D. Hanson in his articles “Apocalypse, Genre” and “Apocalypticism,” in The Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible: Supplementary Volume (ed. K. Crim; Nashville: Abingdon, 1976), 27–34. Another landmark in defining the apocalyptic genre was Apocalypse: The Morphology of a Genre (ed. J. J. Collins; Semeia 14; Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press, 1979). For a summary of the ongoing debate over the definition of the apocalyptic genre, see John J. Collins, The Apocalyptic Imagination: An Introduction to Jewish Apocalyptic Literature (2nd ed.; Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1998), 1–11. 18 See Collins, “Wisdom, Apocalypticism and Generic Compatibility,” 168–70. He points to the extremely wide array of materials designated as “wisdom” in The Sage in Israel and the Ancient Near East, (ed. J. G. Gammie and L. G. Perdue; Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1990). The scholar who has devoted the most energy to defining wisdom in the Old Testament is James L. Crenshaw, beginning with an article entitled

8

chapter one

publication of the most extensive wisdom text discovered at Qumran, 4QInstruction, has spurred scholars to re-consider the assumption that a wisdom form implies a particular worldview.19 Thus, while there have been important contributions to this discussion in recent years, much work remains to be done.20 The present study of 4 Ezra contributes to that discussion by attempting to account for the sapiential form, language and themes of the dialogues and explaining how the dialogues relate to the more typically “Method in Determining Wisdom Influence upon ‘Historical’ Literature,” JBL 88 (1969): 129–42. See also his “Prolegomenon” to the collection of essays on biblical wisdom that he edited, Studies in Ancient Israelite Wisdom (Library of Biblical Studies; New York: Ktav, 1976), 1–45 and the introduction to his Old Testament Wisdom: An Introduction (revised and enlarged ed.; Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1998), 1–15. Crenshaw criticized the lack of a definition of the profession of sage in The Sage in Israel in the Ancient Near East; see his Education in Ancient Israel: Across the Deadening Silence (ABRL; New York: Doubleday, 1998), 178–79, n. 52. 19 Dead Sea Discoveries 4/3 (1997) was dedicated to the wisdom texts discovered at Qumran. See especially the article by John J. Collins, “Wisdom Reconsidered, in Light of the Scrolls,” 265–81. See also Collins, Jewish Wisdom, 112–33; idem, “Wisdom, Apocalypticism and the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in Seers, Sybils and Sages in Hellenistic-Roman Judaism ( JSJSup 54; Leiden: Brill, 1997), 369–85; and John Kampen, “The Diverse Aspects of Wisdom in the Qumran Texts,” in The Dead Sea Scrolls After Fifty Years: A Comprehensive Assessment (2 vols.; ed. P. W. Flint and J. C. VanderKam; Leiden: Brill, 1998), 1:211–43. Several collections of essays focusing at least in part on the Qumran wisdom texts have appeared in recent years: D. K. Falk, F. García Martínez and E. Schuller, eds., Sapiential, Liturgical and Poetical Texts from Qumran (STDJ 35; Leiden: Brill, 2000); C. Hempel, A. Lange and H. Lichtenberger, eds., The Wisdom Texts from Qumran and the Development of Sapiential Thought (BETL 159; Leuven: Leuven University Press, 2002); F. García Martínez, ed., Wisdom and Apocalypticism in the Dead Sea Scrolls and in the Biblical Tradition (BETL 168; Leuven: Leuven University Press, 2002); J. J. Collins, G. E. Sterling and R. A. Clements, eds., Sapiential Perspectives: Wisdom Literature in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls (STDJ 51; Leiden: Brill, 2004). 20 See the programmatic essay by G. W. E. Nickelsburg, “Wisdom and Apocalypticism in Early Judaism: Some Points for Discussion,” SBL Seminar Papers, 1994 (SBLSP 33; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1994), 715–32, repr. in Conflicted Boundaries in Wisdom and Apocalypticism (ed. B. G. Wright III and L. M. Wills; SBLSymS 35; Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2005), 17–37, and the incisive response by Sarah Tanzer in Conflicted Boundaries, 39–49. An important early effort in the direction laid out by Nickelsburg is the dissertation of Randal A. Argall, 1 Enoch and Sirach: A Comparative Literary and Conceptual Analysis of the Themes of Revelation, Creation and Judgment (SBLEJL 8; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1995). Nickelsburg’s commentary, 1 Enoch 1: A Commentary on the Book of 1 Enoch, Chapters 1–36, 81–108 (Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Fortress, 2001), contains useful comments on the use of wisdom terminology and forms in 1 Enoch; see especially pp. 50–54, 337–44, 454–56. A number of papers exploring the interplay of the wisdom and apocalyptic traditions in early Judaism and early Christianity are collected in Conflicted Boundaries. See also Shannon Burkes, “Wisdom and Apocalypticism in the Wisdom of Solomon,” HTR 95 (2002): 21–44, especially her conclusions on the merging of wisdom and apocalyptic worldviews in the Hellenistic and Roman periods (40–44).

introduction and history of scholarship on 4 ezra

9

apocalyptic visions in the second half of the book. On the one hand, this analysis points to the overlapping interests of wisdom and apocalyptic literature in this period, since the author of an apocalypse incorporated so much wisdom material into his book. On the other hand, it shows that the author made a conscious choice to move beyond a rational, sapiential approach to the questions raised by the Destruction and to embrace a non-rational, apocalyptic solution. 2. Major Trends in the History of Scholarship on 4 Ezra 2.1

The Source-Critical Approach

The first scholar to draw attention to the conflicting theological and eschatological traditions in 4 Ezra was Richard Kabisch.21 Under the influence of contemporaneous German scholarship on the Pentateuch, his solution to perceived inconsistencies was to assign the material in 4 Ezra to five different sources and a redactor. His “documentary hypothesis” was that the redactor took a major work written under the pseudonym Salathiel (or She’altiel, designated S), which included the majority of the material in the first four episodes, and added to it prediction material from an Ezra-Apocalypse (E); two shorter apocalypses, the vision of the Eagle and of the Man from the sea (designated A for Adler and M for Mensch, respectively); and a legend about Ezra (the epilogue, E2); attributing the composite book to Ezra. This theory was an attempt to explain the odd introduction of the protagonist as “I, Salathiel, who am also called Ezra” (3:1), the anachronistic placement of Ezra in the exile, and the lack of correspondence between the questioning, pessimistic seer and the biblical Ezra.22 Although the assumptions behind this sort of analysis seem questionable today, Kabisch made a valuable contribution in bringing to light many of the problems in 4 Ezra that subsequent scholars have attempted to explain in different ways. For example, he pointed out the tension in the dialogues between a universalizing concern with the fate of sinful humanity (the problem of the evil heart) and a particularistic concern with the promises to Israel.

21 Richard Kabisch, Das vierte Buch Esra auf seine Quellen untersucht (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck und Ruprechts Verlag, 1889). 22 Kabisch, Das vierte Buch Esra, 8–9.

10

chapter one

In his view, the author of the Salathiel Apocalypse was convinced of the universal sinfulness of humanity, so passages which emphasize the election of Israel (e.g., 5:23–30) must come from the pen of the redactor.23 Yet Kabisch also maintains that S is not a thoroughgoing universalist: when Uriel insists that only a few will be saved, he means that Israel (or a remnant thereof) will be spared out of the mass of sinful humanity, because they accepted the law (based on 9:21).24 Another problem of the dialogues that Kabisch attempts to solve through source criticism is the author’s inconsistent use of the concept of “the end,” the dividing line between this world and the next. Since he thinks of “S” as having a very “spiritual” eschatology and a sharp break between this world and the next (as exemplified by the metaphor of Jacob and Esau in 6:8–10), those parts of the eschatological predictions that refer to a bodily resurrection and a messianic kingdom on earth must come from a second source, “E.”25 The redactor has clumsily combined the two sources, with the result that the angel’s eschatological discourses are internally contradictory. The most obvious problem with this approach is the assumption that a first-century apocalyptist could not have held a set of beliefs that seem internally contradictory to a nineteenth-century scholar. Another problem, which is more pervasive in early critical scholarship on 4 Ezra, is Kabisch’s failure to distinguish between the doctrines placed in Uriel’s mouth and those implied by Ezra’s statements. For example, he says that the conviction of universal sinfulness is the foundation of S, but so is the belief that a few righteous persons will be saved in the world to come.26 The former is the view of Ezra in the dialogues, but it is disputed by Uriel, who maintains that there are a few who are righteous. For a single author to maintain both of these doctrines would involve him in a far more fundamental “inconsistency” than many of those which serve as Kabisch’s criteria for distinguishing between sources. Yet Kabisch does not suggest that Ezra’s and Uriel’s speeches come from different authors, a patent absurdity. Obviously, the criterion of internal contradiction must be applied selectively in source criticism, but Kabisch chooses to ignore the contradictions that point to a sophisticated purpose on the part of the author, because the 23 24 25 26

Kabisch, Kabisch, Kabisch, Kabisch,

Das Das Das Das

vierte vierte vierte vierte

Buch Buch Buch Buch

Esra, Esra, Esra, Esra,

42–43. 71–72. 68. 70–71.

introduction and history of scholarship on 4 ezra

11

underlying assumption of source criticism is that modern scholars are far more sophisticated than ancient authors and redactors. The English translation and commentary of G. H. Box was extremely influential in introducing 4 Ezra to a wider audience and for decades was the form in which 4 Ezra was best known to the English-speaking world.27 Both in his commentary and in the annotations that accompany his translation in Charles’s Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha of the Old Testament, Box offers much helpful comparative material, tentative reconstructions of the original Hebrew, and interpretation. Unfortunately, Box unquestioningly adopts Kabisch’s source-critical conclusions and presents them in his introduction almost as established fact. The arguments he presents for the composite character of the text are really just a summary of Kabisch’s book. He differs from Kabisch only in assigning to the redactor a few passages which Kabisch believed were drawn from the Ezra-apocalypse (E).28 Box goes beyond Kabisch, however, in speculating about the redactor’s social location. He thinks (based mainly on chapter 14) that the redactor was attempting to secure a place for apocalyptic doctrines within the Oral Law, and that he collected various apocalyptic traditions under the pseudonym of Ezra in order to appeal to the rabbinic authorities.29 Following the lead of Ferdinand Rosenthal,30 he locates the redactor in apocalyptic circles under the influence of the school of Shammai (especially R. Eliezer b. Hyrqanos).31 Although the speculation is intriguing, the rabbinic parallels Box cites to show Shammaite influence are obscure and few, and there is no way of knowing how widespread were the ideas that may be reflected in both the apocalyptic and the rabbinic literature. Shortly after Box’s death, his former colleague W. O. E. Oesterley published his own commentary on the whole of 2 Esdras in the Westminster Commentaries series.32 Without referring to Gunkel’s earlier

27 G. H. Box, The Ezra-Apocalypse (London: Pitman and Sons, 1912); see also his introduction and annotated translation of 4 Ezra in APOT, 2:542–624. 28 Box (“IV Ezra,” in APOT, 2:551) regards 7:26–44 and 8:63–9:12 as compilations by the redactor rather than extracts from E. 29 Box, Ezra-Apocalypse, lix. 30 Ferdinand Rosenthal, Vier apokryphische Bücher aus der Zeit und Schule R. Akibas (Leipzig: O. Schulze, 1885). 31 Box, Ezra-Apocalypse, lxii–lxv. 32 W. O. E. Oesterley, II Esdras (The Ezra Apocalypse) (WC; London: Methuen, 1933).

12

chapter one

criticisms of Kabisch (see below, n. 81), he questions the criteria of inconsistency according to which Kabisch and Box divided chapters 3–10 into a Salathiel apocalypse, fragments of an Ezra apocalypse, and additions by the redactor. Noting that the source-critical approach to these chapters depends heavily on the strange introduction of the seer as “I, Salathiel, who am also Ezra,” Oesterley argues for the unity of what he calls “The Ezra Apocalypse” (4 Ezra 3–10), based on the argument of M. R. James that the identification of Ezra with Salathiel (She’altiel) pre-dates 4 Ezra.33 After claiming that the four eschatological passages assigned by Kabisch to ‘E’ are integral to the author’s complex and tradition-bound eschatology, he turns around and uses practically the same criteria of inconsistency as Kabisch to attribute chapters 11–12 and 13 to different authors. In the case of chapter 14, his arguments for different authorship are even weaker than Kabisch’s.34 In the introduction as well as in the commentary itself, Oesterley treats chapters 11–12, 13 and 14 nearly as cursorily as chapters 1–2 (Fifth Ezra) and 15–16 (Sixth Ezra), implying that all of them are equally unrelated to the ‘Ezra Apocalypse.’35 He is interested in chapters 3–10 primarily as a repository of “doctrines” of Judaism at the time of the composition of the New Testament. He acknowledges that the apocalypse contains a strange mixture of “orthodox” (by which he means 33 Oesterley, II Esdras, xiii–xv, citing M. R. James, The Lost Apocrypha of the Old Testament: Their Titles and Fragments (London: SPCK, 1920), 79–80. For the full discussion of the evidence for the Ezra-Salathiel connection, see M. R. James, “Ego Salathiel qui et Esdras,” JTS 18 (1917): 167–69 and “Salathiel qui et Esdras,” JTS 19 (1918): 347–49. James traces the identification to a misreading of 1 Chron 3:17, but the earliest evidence for it outside of 4 Ezra is Epiphanius, On the Twelve Gems, a 4th–5th century Christian work. James also assumes that Ezra-Salathiel is meant to be a different person from Ezra the scribe of the Torah, but this is unlikely in light of Ezra’s scribal role in the epilogue. 34 Oesterley, II Esdras, xviii–xix. For example, he says that the assumption of Ezra promised in 14:9 is incompatible with Ezra’s awareness of his own sinfulness in the “Ezra Apocalypse,” but in fact Uriel repeatedly insists that Ezra is one of the few righteous, and moreover 14:9 seems to presuppose the idea of the companions of the Messiah that Uriel alludes to in 6:26 and 7:28. Similarly, he asserts that the focus on the restoration of the Scriptures is alien to the interests of the rest of the book, but in fact Ezra refers to the Scriptures as the “law” (= Torah) in 14:22, and Oesterley himself observes that the author’s concern with the law is remarkable in the “Ezra Apocalypse.” 35 Oesterley does, however, include “additional notes” on the Eagle Vision (II Esdras, 144–47) and the Vision of the Man from the Sea (ibid., 158–64) that address problems of interest to contemporary scholarship, namely the identification of the wings and sub-wings in the Eagle Vision and the mythological background of the imagery in the Vision of the Man from the Sea.

introduction and history of scholarship on 4 ezra

13

“not influenced by Hellenism”) Judaism and idiosyncratic views of the author,36 yet he never once mentions in the introduction that differing opinions are expressed by Ezra and Uriel or even that the apocalypse takes the unusual form of a dialogue! Because of its narrow focus, Oesterley’s commentary is much less useful than that of Box. It is worth mentioning mainly because his modified version of the source-critical approach has been revived in more recent times (in slightly different forms) by E. P. Sanders, W. Harrelson and W. Harnisch.37 In Paul and Palestinian Judaism, E. P. Sanders singles out 4 Ezra as the sole exception to the pattern of “covenantal nomism” that he traces throughout the diverse literature of Palestinian Judaism from the period 200 b.c.e.–200 c.e.38 In fact, he suggests that Christian scholars’ excessive reliance on 4 Ezra contributed to the perpetuation of their distorted view of first-century Judaism as a religion of “legalistic works-righteousness.”39 He characterizes the viewpoint of the author of 4 Ezra, which he equates with that of Uriel in the dialogues, as “legalistic perfectionism.”40 In other words, the author believes that God “has no concern for sinners,” whether they belong to the covenant people or not, “but will save only the righteous, who are perfect like Ezra.”41 This is only a slight exaggeration of the angel’s position in the dialogues, since Uriel does imply that striving to “keep the law of the Lawgiver perfectly” is a precondition for salvation (7:88–89), and he reassures Ezra that he has a “treasure of works stored up with the Most High” (7:77). In order to maintain that it is in fact the author’s point of view, however, Sanders must dismiss the sixth and seventh episodes, and possibly also the fifth, as later interpolations. Fourth Ezra would indeed be unique among the texts of Palestinian Judaism if it maintained an individualistic, perfectionist ethos of works-righteousness throughout, but in fact that is only one of the points of view presented by the author.

Oesterley, II Esdras, xxxvii. On Harnisch’s adoption of a source-critical solution, see below, note 62. 38 E. P. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism: A Comparison of Patterns of Religion (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1977). 39 Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, 41, 45. 40 Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, 409, 418. 41 Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, 413. 36 37

14

chapter one

Like Sanders (though without referring to his treatment of 4 Ezra), Walter Harrelson limits his discussion of 4 Ezra to the first four episodes.42 The aspect of the book that strikes Harrelson is Ezra’s insistence, against repeated objections by Uriel, that he belongs among the sinners who will be destroyed in the final judgment. More problematic to Uriel than Ezra’s objections to the bulk of humanity going to perdition is his refusal to rejoice at being one of the few who are saved.43 To Harrelson, it is Ezra’s “seriousness of moral commitment” that sets 4 Ezra apart from the rest of the apocalypses.44 There is no doubt in Harrelson’s mind that the author speaks through Ezra, not Uriel, and that in the end it is Ezra’s point of view that prevails. He reads Ezra’s counsel to the mourning woman in 10:15–17 as ironic, since he does not see how Ezra can expect her to accept an answer that he himself cannot accept.45 The author’s real answer to the problems raised in Ezra’s laments takes the form of a vision of the New Jerusalem, the vastness of which belies the angel’s insistence that only the few who are righteous will be saved. It is only by reading 4 Ezra’s laconic descriptions of the eschatological Zion (10:27, 55) through the lens of Revelation 21–22, however, that Harrelson is able to see in it a satisfactory answer to Ezra’s laments. Neither Harrelson nor Sanders offers a convincing account of the literary function of the truncated version of 4 Ezra that they recognize as original. These recent source-critical approaches share with Harnisch’s version of the theological debate model (to be discussed next) a tendency to focus on the intellectual content of the dialogues and to discount the psychological transformation of Ezra that occurs in the later episodes, since those episodes are not considered original to the book.

42 Walter Harrelson, “Ezra among the Wicked in 2 Esdras 3–10,” in The Divine Helmsman: Lou H. Silberman Festschrift (ed. J. Crenshaw and S. Sandmel; New York: Ktav, 1980), 21–40. In fact, while Sanders expresses some uncertainty about the fifth episode but definitely rules out the originality of the sixth and seventh (Paul and Palestinian Judaism, 417–18), it is the fifth and sixth episodes that Harrelson is certain cannot come from the same author as chapters 3–10, while he allows that the final episode may be a later appendix by the same author (“Ezra Among the Wicked,” 21–22). 43 Harrelson, “Ezra Among the Wicked,” 34. 44 Harrelson, “Ezra Among the Wicked,” 39. 45 Harrelson, “Ezra Among the Wicked,” 36.

introduction and history of scholarship on 4 ezra 2.2

15

Fourth Ezra as Theological Debate

A new approach to 4 Ezra was developed in the 1960’s by the German scholars Egon Brandenburger and Wolfgang Harnisch. Taking their cue from the dialogue form of the first two-thirds of the book, these two authors argue that the primary purpose of 4 Ezra is to represent and resolve a theological debate that was raging in the author’s time. Brandenburger points to the significance of the dialogue form in the few pages he devotes to 4 Ezra in Adam und Christus,46 but Harnisch was the first to attempt a thorough historico-theological analysis of the dialogues.47 He uses 2 Baruch mainly to corroborate his interpretations of 4 Ezra, since he believes that despite minor differences in approach, the two apocalypses share a single theological outlook, corresponding to a particular group in “late Judaism.”48 Harnisch identifies two theological problems at the core of the dialogues of 4 Ezra: the disparity between God’s promises to Israel and the people’s current predicament, and the injustice of Israel’s punishment if sin is indeed an inevitable and universal human condition. The former problem is developed primarily in the first two dialogues, although it is the unifying theme of all three of Ezra’s laments.49 Doubt in the validity of God’s promises is an understandable response to the destruction of Jerusalem, and Harnisch does not hesitate to attribute this initial reaction to the author of 4 Ezra.50 He is not willing, however, to associate the author with the view that sinfulness is hereditary and therefore inevitable; he identifies this as the core belief of a fatalistic, gnosticizing strain of skepticism (exemplified most clearly, he claims, in the Apocalypse of Moses and the closely-related Life of Adam and Eve), which is the target of the author’s polemic.51 The assumption of a gnostic background for the Apocalypse of Moses and Life of Adam and Eve is highly

Egon Brandenburger, Adam und Christus: Exegetisch-religionsgeschichtliche Untersuchung zu Röm 5:12–21 (1 Kor 15) (WMANT 7; Neukirchen: Neukirchener Verlag, 1962), 27–36. 47 Wolfgang Harnisch, Verhängnis und Verheißung der Geschichte: Untersuchungen zum Zeit- und Geschichtsverständnis im 4 Buch Esra und in der syr. Baruchapokalypse (FRLANT 97; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1969). 48 Harnisch, Verhängnis und Verheißung der Geschichte, 240. 49 Harnisch, Verhängnis und Verheißung der Geschichte, 20–24. 50 Harnisch, Verhängnis und Verheißung der Geschichte, 42. He argues, however, that Ezra moves beyond this reaction in the course of the dialogues, by accepting Uriel’s dualistic worldview. 51 Harnisch, Verhängnis und Verheißung der Geschichte, 65–72. 46

16

chapter one

problematic,52 and Harnisch later abandoned his characterization of Ezra’s beliefs as “gnosticizing.” According to Harnisch, the answer to the apparent failure of God’s promises to Israel (as expressed in Ezra’s laments) is the “two-age doctrine,” as propounded by Uriel. The angel’s doctrine, which Harnisch also calls “apocalyptic dualism,” assumes that this world or age, i.e., historical time, was irrevocably doomed and alienated from the plan of creation by the sin of Adam.53 Uriel’s God is in no way the “God of history” who dominates the biblical narratives; in his worldview, history is characterized by the remoteness of God.54 This fatalistic way of thinking about history is typical of apocalypticism, and does not in any way entail a denial of free will or a meaningless earthly existence, as Ezra supposes.55 Rather, it is compatible in the author’s mind with a heightened regard for the law (= Torah); one’s adherence to the law in this world is the sole criterion for inclusion in the world to come.56

The title Apocalypse of Moses has been abandoned by recent scholars because it is so misleading; that text is now referred to as the Greek Life of Adam and Eve (GLAE), while the text Harnisch referred to as the Life of Adam and Eve is now called the Latin Life of Adam and Eve or the Vita Adae et Evae. The GLAE, which itself exists in numerous text forms, is thought to be the original from which not only the Latin but several other books about Adam and Eve derived: the Slavonic Life of Adam and Eve, the Armenian Penitence of Adam, and the Georgian Book of Adam, as well as a great deal of secondary Adam literature that is much less closely related. For a comparison of the versions of the Life of Adam and Eve, see Gary A. Anderson and Michael E. Stone, A Synopsis of the Books of Adam and Eve (2nd ed., SBLEJL 17; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1999). The opinion of some scholars that the GLAE is a translation of a Hebrew or Aramaic original has been shown to be without basis by M. E. Stone, A History of the Literature of Adam and Eve (SBLEJL 3; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1992), 46–53. The question of whether it was originally a Jewish or a Christian composition is much more difficult to decide, as is the question of its date; see Marinus de Jonge and Johannes Tromp, The Life of Adam and Eve and Related Literature (Guides to the Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997), 65–77. According to those authors, the non-gnostic character of the GLAE was effectively demonstrated by Anne Marie Sweet in her unpublished dissertation, “A Religio-Historical Study of the Greek Life of Adam and Eve” (Notre Dame, 1992), but they are more skeptical of her additional claim that the GLAE was written (by orthodox Christians) specifically to correct apocalyptic and gnostic interpretations of the Genesis story. 53 Harnisch, Verhängnis und Verheißung der Geschichte, 108–9. 54 Harnisch, Verhängnis und Verheißung der Geschichte, 142. Brandenburger alludes to this point in his title Die Verborgenheit Gottes im Weltgeschehen and develops it further; see below, note 68 and the following discussion. 55 Harnisch, Verhängnis und Verheißung der Geschichte, 119. 56 Harnisch, Verhängnis und Verheißung der Geschichte, 145–49. Harnisch maintains (ibid., 148) that “law” in 4 Ezra always refers to the Torah of Moses, citing as evidence the allusion to Deut 30:19 in 7:21. He acknowledges, however, that the author’s understand52

introduction and history of scholarship on 4 ezra

17

The more aloof from history that God is considered to be, the more important the law becomes as the sole indication of God’s will for mankind.57 The second problem, the injustice of Israel’s punishment in light of the universality of sinfulness, is handled somewhat differently by Harnisch, because he believes that the author introduces it only in order to refute it at the level of basic assumptions. In other words, while the author, speaking through Uriel, acknowledges that Israel’s history is indeed as depressing as Ezra claims, he does not for a moment admit that sin is inevitable due to the creation of human beings with an “evil inclination” (‫)יצר הרע‬.The author may believe in the existence of the evil inclination, but he denies that it is invincible.58 Harnisch distinguishes between the “evil root” (3:22) or “evil seed” (4:30) that exists in every human heart (which he identifies with the ‫)יצר הרע‬, and the “evil heart” of which Ezra complains, which represents the triumph of the evil inclination in an individual heart. In claiming that the “evil heart” was passed down to all of Adam’s descendents and in blaming God for allowing this to happen (3:20–26), Ezra is in effect denying that human beings have free will.59 Through Uriel, the author opposes the idea of the universality of the “evil heart,” even though he maintains that the vast majority of humanity is headed for perdition. According to Harnisch, the author has no patience for the sort of argument made so poignantly in Ezra’s prayer (8:20–36), that God’s reputation rests on his mercy towards sinners; like Uriel, he is concerned only with the salvation of the righteous.60 Without explaining why, Harnisch limits his discussion of 4 Ezra almost exclusively to the dialogues.61 In a later essay, however, Harnisch argues that the fifth and sixth visions are later additions to an otherwise

ing of Deuteronomic theology has been altered significantly by his eschatology: the rewards and punishments promised in the law are no longer conceived of as historical events, but rather as alternative existences in the world to come. 57 Harnisch, Verhängnis und Verheißung der Geschichte, 245. 58 Harnisch, Verhängnis und Verheißung der Geschichte, 167–69. 59 Harnisch, Verhängnis und Verheißung der Geschichte, 48–50. 60 Harnisch, Verhängnis und Verheißung der Geschichte, 240. 61 Harnisch does briefly (Verhängnis und Verheißung der Geschichte, 250–57) discuss the vision of the eagle in the context of a general discussion of the function of the “historical apocalypses” in 4 Ezra and 2 Baruch. There, he does not question that it is by the same author as the dialogues, but neither does he attempt to explain its theological relationship to the dialogues.

18

chapter one

coherent text.62 His argument is based partly on a flawed analysis of the structure of the frame narrative: he claims that the first four episodes are unified by a three-week fast, based on Dan 10:2–3.63 In fact, the three weeks of fasting are completed before the beginning of the third dialogue (according to 6:35), while the fourth episode is introduced by a change in location and diet (to the field of Ardat, where he is commanded to eat of the flowers; 9:23–26) which carries over to the fifth and sixth visions, since before each of them he is told to “remain here” (10:58, 12:39). The other argument Harnisch offers for different authorship of the fifth and sixth episodes is the change in the character of Uriel to a typical angelus interpres, distinct from the Most High.64 This change can be explained in the context of a unified literary text, however, as a counterpart to Ezra’s transformation in the fourth episode. Once Ezra recognizes his need for Uriel’s explanations (10:34–37) and stops arguing with him, it is only natural that Uriel’s stance in relation to Ezra should shift to a more cooperative one. Thus, the change in Uriel’s character can just as well be used as an argument for the close relationship of the fifth and sixth episodes to the fourth. On the other hand, the same article reveals a development in Harnisch’s interpretation of the dialogues, particularly the third and most extensive one. He acknowledges that Uriel’s arguments are not conclusive; that both parties use similar rhetorical strategies and neither succeeds in persuading the other; and that in the end the angel prevails solely on account of his greater authority.65 Although he does not explicitly repudiate his earlier characterization of the dialogues as polemical, he no longer refers to the angel’s refutation of Ezra’s point of view, but rather to Ezra’s conversion. In this new interpretation, it is the tendency of the reader to identify with the Ezra of the dialogues that makes Ezra’s conversion rhetorically effective.66 Nevertheless, Harnisch does not nuance his earlier conclusion that the theological

62 W. Harnisch, “Der Prophet als Widerpart und Zeuge der Offenbarung: Erwägungen zur Interdependenz von Form und Sache im IV. Buch Ezra,” in Apocalypticism in the Mediterranean World and the Near East: Proceedings of the International Colloquium on Apocalypticism, Uppsala, August 12–17, 1979 (ed. David Hellholm; Tübingen: Mohr/ Siebeck, 1983), 461–93. 63 Harnisch, “Der Prophet,” 467. 64 Harnisch, “Der Prophet,” 468. 65 Harnisch, “Der Prophet,” 476–77. 66 Harnisch, “Der Prophet,” 478.

introduction and history of scholarship on 4 ezra

19

positions Ezra espouses in his dialogue with the mourning woman and in the final episode are precisely those of Uriel in the dialogues.67 Many of the problems with Harnisch’s analysis are noted by Brandenburger in his excellent study of the theology of 4 Ezra, in which he acknowledges his debt to Harnisch but in fact far surpasses him in both the depth and the comprehensiveness of his treatment.68 Most importantly, he disagrees with Harnisch that Ezra represents an opposing party, gnosticizing or otherwise, and that the author’s approach to the problems he raises is polemical. He is more inclined to view Ezra as a representative of the concerns of the author’s community, which the author seeks to address by correcting some basic misconceptions on their part.69 While he agrees with Harnisch that Ezra is eventually converted to Uriel’s point of view, he recognizes that Ezra’s transformation does not actually take place within the confines of the dialogues with Uriel. Brandenburger observes that Ezra’s speech at the beginning of the fourth episode (9:29–37) calls into question even his reluctant capitulation to Uriel’s position at the end of the third.70 It is only in the course of his conversation with the mourning woman that Ezra abandons his skeptical stance and enters into Uriel’s worldview.71 In contrast to Harnisch, Brandenburger makes a thorough case for the unity of 4 Ezra. His hermeneutical principle is that the theological problems of 4 Ezra are inextricable from the literary ones, and consequently that the first step toward understanding the author’s theological purpose is to interpret correctly the literary form and structure of the work.72 Fundamentally, this entails recognizing the pivotal role of the fourth episode, the dialogue with the mourning woman who is then transformed into a vision of the New Jerusalem. Brandenburger argues convincingly that Ezra’s lament at the beginning of the fourth episode reveals that he is far from abandoning his skepticism in the face of Uriel’s arguments, even though he seemed to capitulate at the end Harnisch, “Der Prophet,” 479, 481. Egon Brandenburger, Die Verborgenheit Gottes im Weltgeschehen: Das literarische und theologische Problem des 4. Esrabuches (ATANT 68; Zurich: Theologischer Verlag, 1981). 69 Brandenburger, Verborgenheit Gottes, 44–48. 70 Brandenburger, Verborgenheit Gottes, 63–68. 71 Brandenburger, Verborgenheit Gottes, 72. 72 Brandenburger, Verborgenheit Gottes, 20–21. He cautions (ibid., 57, against Breech, “These Fragments”) that the literary problems cannot be solved simply by identifying the genre and structure of the work as a whole. His own approach is to examine the details, especially of the frame narrative and of the central (fourth) and final (seventh) episodes for clues to the author’s conception of the whole. 67

68

20

chapter one

of the third dialogue.73 Therefore, the transformation of Ezra from a “skeptical opponent of revelation” to a “witness and founder of a chain of tradition” must take place in the course of his conversation with the woman, which also marks the turning point between the dialogues and the visions.74 The profundity of the change in Ezra’s character is not obvious until the final episode, but it is hinted at in the frame narrative, especially in his confrontation with the people in 12:40–50, where he clearly accepts his prophetic role (in contrast to the encounter with Phaltiel, the representative of the people, in 5:16–19).75 Brandenburger’s argument for the unity of the work rests primarily on his analysis of the frame narrative, which is in direct opposition to that of Harnisch in “Der Prophet als Widerpart und Zeuge der Offenbarung.”76 The goal of Brandenburger’s careful literary analysis is to identify the author’s theological orientation, which he equates with that of Uriel in the dialogues; he also includes within its purview the visions and their interpretations, Ezra’s speeches to the mourning woman and to the people, and everything in the epilogue—in short, everything but Ezra’s laments and skeptical questions in the dialogues.77 Like Harnisch, he understands the dialogues as a representation of a historical debate between two fundamentally opposed worldviews, but not between two theologies so much as between a theology and an anti-theology: a strain of radical skepticism opposed to the author’s apocalyptic solution to the crisis of 70 c.e.78 He develops an insight hinted at by Harnisch: Uriel’s theology, despite its emphasis on eschatology, is rooted in the wisdom traditions of the Hebrew Bible and Second Temple Judaism.79 He describes Uriel’s theology as “apocalyptic wisdom,” which presupposes that the apocalyptic visions reinforce Uriel’s position in the dialogues.

Brandenburger, Verborgenheit Gottes, 65–67. Brandenburger, Verborgenheit Gottes, 72. Brandenburger does not acknowledge his allusion in this formulation to the title of Harnisch’s paper “Der Prophet als Widerpart und Zeuge der Offenbarung” (presented at the International Colloquium on Apocalypticism in Uppsala in August, 1979), to which he responds in the following chapter (ibid., 93, note 6 et passim). 75 Brandenburger, Verborgenheit Gottes, 118–20. 76 Brandenburger, Verborgenheit Gottes, 99–100, n. 22. 77 Brandenburger, Verborgenheit Gottes, 148–51. 78 Brandenburger, Verborgenheit Gottes, 157–60. 79 Brandenburger, Verborgenheit Gottes, 187–88, 197–98; cf. Harnisch, “Der Prophet,” 485. 73 74

introduction and history of scholarship on 4 ezra 2.3

21

The Literary-Psychological Approach

Hermann Gunkel wrote his introduction to and commentary on 4 Ezra in Kautzsch’s Die Apokryphen und Pseudeipgraphen des alten Testaments during the heyday of source criticism, but so convinced was he of the unity of 4 Ezra that he did not even dignify Kabisch’s approach by arguing systematically against it.80 Throughout most of the introduction, he simply assumes single authorship, and only at the end does he briefly state his disagreement with Kabisch.81 His own explanation for the inconsistencies that prompted Kabisch (and many scholars after him) to posit multiple sources is twofold. First, the author has two different types of material to present: esoteric knowledge of eschatological matters on the one hand, and religious problems (both moral and theological) on the other.82 Moreover, he has two different religious concerns: the origin of suffering, especially Israel’s, in this world, and the fate of sinners in the world to come. Second, the author is of two minds about the eschatology he brings as a solution to the religious problems: while it reassures him about God’s justice, it only compounds his anxiety about the fate of sinful humanity. The dialogue form thus reflects the author’s inner conflict: the angel represents his higher, believing nature and the seer his doubtful, pessimistic side.83 While Gunkel at least offers an explanation for the author’s choice of the dialogue form, when it comes to discussing the theology of 4 Ezra, he is no more attentive than Kabisch to the incompatibility between Ezra’s statements and Uriel’s. Of course, this collapsing of the distinction between the dialogue partners is theoretically grounded in Gunkel’s case. He thinks of the author of 4 Ezra as a man torn apart by conflicting beliefs who was unable to give any of them up in order to arrive at a satisfactory solution to his religious anxieties.84 While this view has the advantage of accounting for the inconclusive quality of the

80 Hermann Gunkel, “Das vierte Buch Esra,” in Die Apokryphen und Pseudepigraphen des alten Testaments (ed. E. Kautzsch: Tübingen: Mohr, 1900), 2:331–402. A monograph version of his introduction, translation and notes on 4 Ezra appeared in the same year, from the same publisher, under the title Der Prophet Esra. 81 Gunkel, “Das vierte Buch Esra,” 351. See, however, Gunkel’s review of Kabisch’s book in TLZ 16.1 (1891): 5–11, in which he does attack Kabisch on methodological grounds. 82 Gunkel, “Das vierte Buch Esra,” 335. 83 Gunkel, “Das vierte Buch Esra,” 340. 84 Gunkel, “Das vierte Buch Esra,” 339.

22

chapter one

dialogues, it overlooks the clarity and consistency of the two different theological positions argued by Ezra and Uriel. In the spirit of form criticism, Gunkel presents the author as a collector and adapter of traditional motifs and even of whole stories, in the case of the vision of the mourning woman.85 The visions are more shaped by apocalyptic traditions than the dialogues, but at the same time Gunkel insists that they are reflective of the author’s own religious experience, rather than being purely a literary form for transmitting apocalyptic knowledge. Even splitting himself into a man and an angel in the dialogues is not an artifice, but an expression of the author’s inner life.86 No doubt it is true both that the author of 4 Ezra was motivated to write by his own religious experience and that he made use of traditional materials in his composition. Gunkel rightly gives the author more credit than the source critics do for creating a structured plot to frame the various doctrines and traditions at his disposal. Nevertheless, his claim that the text is a reflection of the author’s own psychological state, filtered through the lenses of tradition, is too simple an explanation to account for all the complexities of 4 Ezra. Partly because source-critical hypotheses still dominated Anglophone scholarship on 4 Ezra, and partly in reaction against Brandenburger’s and Harnisch’s early attempts to read 4 Ezra as a reflection of an actual theological debate, a number of scholars in the 1970’s returned to a psychological approach similar to that of Gunkel. In a short but influential article, Earl Breech argued that 4 Ezra is structured according to a “pattern of consolation” that resembles the “rituals of invocation, referral and waiting” found in the lamentation psalms.87 He refers to the three dialogues as a “triptych” because each is organized in the same way: each begins with a complaint by Ezra, continues with a “vigorous dialogue” between Ezra and Uriel, and ends with a series of questions and answers about eschatology.88 He emphasizes (in opposition to Harnisch) that the dialogues are inconclusive; the concerns Ezra expresses are those of the post-destruction Jewish community, and there is nothing in the book to suggest that Ezra represents the

85 Gunkel, “Das vierte Buch Esra,” 344. Although this story is not known from any other source, Gunkel calls it an “old family novel,” comparable to the book of Tobit. 86 Gunkel, “Das vierte Buch Esra,” 342. 87 Breech, “These Fragments,” 269–70. 88 Breech, “These Fragments,” 270.

introduction and history of scholarship on 4 ezra

23

author’s opponents.89 The fourth episode, in particular Ezra’s attempt to console the mourning woman, is the turning point in the pattern of consolation, and it “provides the rationale for the Most High’s response to the community’s dilemma.”90 That response comes in the form of the two dream visions, which function primarily “to reaffirm the Most High’s power,” rather than answering Ezra’s questions directly.91 The final episode does not fit into the pattern of consolation, but it is a necessary epilogue because in it the prophet communicates his consolation to the community he represents.92 By drawing attention to the relationship between the form and function of 4 Ezra, Breech charted a new course for scholarship, at least for those scholars who share his view that the work is a literary unity. His own treatment of the subject, however, is hardly adequate. He faults those who treat the seven visions as “seven containers for apocalyptic contents,”93 but he focuses on the form almost to the exclusion of the content. Moreover, his descriptions of the form are so abstract as to be inaccurate: for example, in order to maintain that the dialogues constitute a “triptych,” he glosses over the fact that the third dialogue is longer than the first two put together and contains several rounds of debate followed by eschatological revelations. While it is true that the solution offered by the visions is not an intellectual one,94 the dialogues raise intellectual questions whose unanswered (or unanswerable) status is hard to reconcile with a “pattern of consolation.” Soon after Breech’s essay appeared, A. P. Hayman composed a pointed critique of Harnisch that does not challenge Breech’s conclusions but steers the discussion of the authorial presence in 4 Ezra in a promising direction.95 After affirming the widespread rejection of the source-critical approach, Hayman takes Gunkel to task for “maintain[ing] the unity of IV Ezra at the cost of splitting the author’s personality.”96 He initially praises Harnisch for seeking a solution that gives the author credit for having a coherent point of view, but

Breech, “These Fragments,” 270–71. Breech, “These Fragments,” 272. 91 Breech, “These Fragments,” 273–74. 92 Breech, “These Fragments,” 274. 93 Breech, “These Fragments,” 268. 94 Breech, “These Fragments,” 274. 95 A. P. Hayman, “The Problem of Pseudonymity in the Ezra Apocalypse,” JSJ 6 (1975): 47–56. 96 Hayman, “Problem of Pseudonymity,” 48–49. 89 90

24

chapter one

goes on to make a number of telling criticisms of Harnisch’s theory. First, the choice of Ezra as a spokesman for a heretical point of view is incomprehensible; it is much more likely that that the author chose that pseudonym in order to lend legitimacy to the theological challenge he wished to raise.97 Second, there are internal inconsistencies in both Ezra’s and Uriel’s positions and enough overlap between them that it seems unlikely that the author is trying to present Ezra’s point of view as the polar opposite of his own.98 More importantly, Ezra’s views are not actually heretical or gnostic; he does not espouse any metaphysical dualism, denigration of the body or attribution of creation to agents other than God.99 Finally, Ezra never confesses his error, as the opponents in polemical dialogues are wont to do in the end.100 All of these points are very well taken, as is apparent from the fact that Brandenburger addresses all of them in some form in his modification of Harnisch’s approach.101 Hayman’s own solution, an adaptation of Gunkel’s interpretation, is not as fully developed as one might hope, however. He explains the discrepancies between the dialogues and the visions as the result of the author’s being occupied with two different problems in the two halves of the book: individual sin and salvation in the dialogues and the delay of the fulfillment of God’s promises to Israel in the visions.102 This is not strictly true, however, since Ezra’s first three laments focus on the question of Israel’s status vis-à-vis other nations. Moreover, the change of subject is not sufficient to explain the change in form. On the more difficult problem of what the author is trying to achieve in the dialogues, Hayman reverts to Gunkel’s explanation, saying that Ezra’s objections are “part and parcel of [the author’s] own mental furniture,” and that “the anguished tone of IV Ezra reflects [the author’s] own mental turmoil at the realization of how inadequately traditional Jewish theodicy explains the problem of evil, sin and justification.”103 Although in this sentence Hayman seems to identify the author with Ezra, it is clear from other sentences that he

Hayman, “Problem of Pseudonymity,” 51. Hayman, “Problem of Pseudonymity,” 51–52. 99 Hayman, “Problem of Pseudonymity,” 52–53. 100 Hayman, “Problem of Pseudonymity,” 53. 101 In his own review of scholarship, however, Brandenburger accuses Hayman along with Breech of criticizing only the most speculative aspects of Harnisch’s argument (Brandenburger, Verborgenheit Gottes, 49). 102 Hayman, “Problem of Pseudonymity,” 54. 103 Hayman, “Problem of Pseudonymity,” 55. 97 98

introduction and history of scholarship on 4 ezra

25

reads many of Uriel’s statements as representative of the author’s point of view, even though it is a point of view that the author continues to struggle with.104 It is unclear, therefore, how Hayman’s approach differs in the end from Gunkel’s “splitting the author’s personality.” Yet Hayman’s resistance to identifying the author fully with either Ezra or Uriel, as well as his concluding insight that the book functions in a manner very similar to Job, both point the way to a more sophisticated reading of 4 Ezra. Such a reading does not materialize in the dissertation of Hayman’s student, Alden Thompson.105 In fact, Thompson’s in-depth study of a particular problem in 4 Ezra sheds very little light on the book as a whole, or even on the third dialogue, which is the main object of his scrutiny. His thesis, formulated in response to Harnisch’s book, is that “Ezra and Uriel [are] simply working through the problem of evil within the ‘accepted limits’ or orthodoxy and simply restating—in a more acute form—the agony that seems to have plagued the Jewish people throughout their tortuous history.”106 He identifies the central tension in the dialogues as a dialectic between “one/many” and “many/ few” arguments; that is, between a primary concern for Israel’s fate among the nations and an equally urgent worry about the fate of all mankind.107 In the course of his analysis, Ezra comes to be identified with the “many/few” argument and thus is dubbed a “universalist,” while Uriel is associated with the “one/many” argument and the view that only Israel will be saved in the end. This assessment of the concerns of the characters seems to arise partly from a lack of clarity on Thompson’s part about what he means by “universalism” and partly from an excessive focus on certain problematic verses to the neglect of the major tendencies of the dialogues. In answer to the question raised at the beginning of Hayman’s article, “where in the work do we find the real views of the author?”, Thompson declares that he will argue that the author speaks through both Ezra and Uriel.108 Yet in the course of his exegesis, he frequently 104 E.g., “But this Two Ages doctrine, as the author sees, gives no definitive or satisfying answer to the problem of who qualifies for entry into the Future Aeon—in his view only a very few or perhaps none at all” (Hayman, “Problem of Pseudonymity,” 54). 105 Alden L. Thompson, Responsibility for Evil in the Theodicy of IV Ezra (SBLDS 29; Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press, 1977). 106 Thompson, Responsibility for Evil, 66. 107 Thompson, Responsibility for Evil, 158. 108 Thompson, Responsibility for Evil, 157.

26

chapter one

equates Ezra’s opinions with those of the author, and near the end acknowledges that he has been suggesting that “the author’s deepest convictions come from the mouth of Ezra.”109 The basis for this judgment is never stated, but seems to be a personal preference for Ezra’s more compassionate character. While I agree that the author must have been sympathetic to Ezra’s concerns, identifying the author too completely with Ezra invites the opposite question from that raised by Hayman against Harnisch; namely, why would the author place a point of view he found so objectionable in the mouth of an angel of the Most High? Further, Thompson acknowledges that in the second half of the book Ezra’s interest shifts from the many to the one.110 If the Ezra of the dialogues represents the author’s “deepest convictions,” why does he experience something like a conversion in the latter half of the book, embracing wholeheartedly the nationalistic eschatology of the visions? Thompson inadvertently succeeds in demonstrating that while the Brandenburger-Harnisch reading of the dialogues fails to account for the poignancy and irrefutability of Ezra’s complaints, it is more plausible than the opposite point of view: that Ezra acts as the author’s mouthpiece in the dialogues. No other scholar has made such an extensive and invaluable contribution to scholarship on 4 Ezra as Michael Stone. In his extremely thorough commentary, he has striven to compensate for earlier scholars’ neglect of the more periphrastic translations from the Greek: the Ethiopic, the two Arabic versions, the Georgian and the Armenian.111 In fact, it is thanks to him that the Armenian version is now easily accessible to scholars, since he produced a critical edition and English translation,112 and later a separate commentary on this version.113 Between the completion in 1965 of his Harvard dissertation on the eschatology of 4 Ezra114 and the publication of his commentary, he also wrote a number

Thompson, Responsibility for Evil, 296. Thompson, Responsibility for Evil, 235. 111 Michael E. Stone, Fourth Ezra: A Commentary on the Book of Fourth Ezra (Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Fortress, 1990). Prior to Stone’s translation and commentary, a full critical edition of the major versions was done by B. Violet: Die Esra-Apocalypse (IV Esra), Band 1: Die Überlieferung (GCS 18; Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1910), but most subsequent commentators continued to rely primarily on the Latin and Syriac versions. 112 Stone, The Armenian Version of IV Ezra (Missoula, MT: Scholars Press, 1979). 113 Stone, A Textual Commentary on the Armenian Version of 4 Ezra (SBLSCS 34; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1990). 114 Stone, Michael E. Features of the Eschatology of IV Ezra (HSM; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1989). The delay in publication of his dissertation had the unfortunate result 109 110

introduction and history of scholarship on 4 ezra

27

of articles on various aspects of 4 Ezra, some of which are pertinent to the general issues under discussion at present. In the introduction to his dissertation, Stone rejects source-critical approaches to 4 Ezra and affirms the tradition-historical approach of Gunkel, though with some reservations.115 He agrees with Gunkel that the author used a good deal of traditional material, in the form of both oral and written sources, but unlike Gunkel he emphasizes the author’s attention to form and structure and the literary artifice of the work.116 At this stage he questions Gunkel’s psychological explanation for the “inconsistencies” that Kabisch made so much of, but nevertheless prefers it to Keulers’ theory that the author was working with two distinct eschatological traditions.117 Extending Gunkel’s critique of Kabisch, he questions whether the criterion of logical consistency (which even Gunkel invokes at times) is an appropriate one to the discussion of apocalypses. He characterizes the thought of 4 Ezra as “non-logical but systematic.”118 In his conclusion he suggests that the author’s mixing of various eschatological conceptions is “neither synthesis nor conscious eclecticism,” but rather a response to questions of the type raised by Ezra in the dialogues, showing “propositionally non-consistent thought heavily dependent on traditional ideas.”119 Because Stone’s dissertation focuses on only one aspect of 4 Ezra, its eschatology, he does not attempt to answer in it the larger questions of the author’s voice in the dialogues or the relationship of the dialogues to the visions (although, to be fair, these questions had not yet become the primary focus of the scholarly debate). Yet without answering them, he is unable to advance much beyond Gunkel’s understanding of the work as the product of a confused mind—even if he does give a sophisticated-sounding label to the author’s confusion. He implies that the questions that prompt the varying eschatological responses are the author’s own, but does not explain the lack of fit between Ezra’s questions of theodicy and the angel’s eschatological predictions.

that Stone’s work on 4 Ezra was largely ignored by both sides of the debate in the 1970’s and early 1980’s. 115 Stone, Features of the Eschatology, 14. 116 Stone, Features of the Eschatology, 24. 117 J. Keulers, Die eschatologische Lehre des vierten Esrabuches (BibS[ F ] 20; Freiburg: Herder, 1922). 118 Stone, Features of the Eschatology, 29. 119 Stone, Features of the Eschatology, 225.

28

chapter one

Stone addressed some of the questions left unanswered in his dissertation in later articles. He clarifies (or modifies) his position on logical consistency in an article examining the use of the term “the end” in 4 Ezra: the problem lies not in applying the criterion of logical consistency to apocalypses, but in jumping to the conclusion that a work is “incoherent” if it happens not to fit the scholar’s own logical categories.120 This conclusion should be a last resort, only after every attempt has been made to understand the work in terms of the author’s categories.121 This principle is illustrated by the use of “the end” in 4 Ezra, which seems inconsistent because it sometimes refers to the fall of the wicked kingdom (which ushers in the Messianic age) and at other times to the final judgment or to some indeterminate event—until one realizes that it always signifies the turning point in whatever series of eschatological events is being described.122 The question of the relationship of the dialogues to the visions comes up in an article treating 4 Ezra as a response to the destruction of the Second Temple.123 Stone asks, “what was it that made the three symbolic visions a satisfactory response to the questions of the dialogues?”124 His answer is that Ezra’s experience in the central episode “is analogous to a religious conversion,” and that it must reflect a similar experience on the part of the author that enabled him to accept an eschatological solution to the unanswerable questions of theodicy raised in the dialogues.125 In fact, Stone is not clear in this article about the relationship between the author and Ezra (it is often difficult to tell to which the pronoun ‘he’ refers), because he assumes that one can infer the author’s experience from that of the protagonist. In a subsequent article on the relation of theodicy to epistemology in 4 Ezra, Stone is more careful to distinguish between the author and the seer, but at the very end he again collapses the distinction between Ezra’s transformation and the author’s experience: “The author deliberately rejects such knowledge of God and the heavenly realm. He longs to understand his ways, his working in the world, and from this 120 Stone, “Coherence and Inconsistency in the Apocalypses: The Case of ‘The End’ in 4 Ezra,” JBL 102 (1983): 229–43. 121 Stone, “Coherence and Inconsistency,” 242–43. 122 Stone, “Coherence and Inconsistency,” 239–41. 123 Stone, “Reactions to Destructions of the Second Temple: Theology, Perception and Conversion,” JSJ 12 (1982): 195–204. 124 Stone, “Reactions to Destructions,” 202. 125 Stone, “Reactions to Destructions,” 203–4.

introduction and history of scholarship on 4 ezra

29

his justice. He comes not to deny, but to accept, in spite of circumstances.”126 While it may be argued that Ezra’s journey from doubt to acceptance is a representation of the author’s own, it is unwarranted simply to assume that it is, as Stone does in these articles. In the introduction to his commentary, Stone makes good on his promise to clarify his stance in relation to Brandenburger and Harnisch and in so doing he resolves many of the issues left hanging in his earlier scholarship. For the sake of contrasting his own position with theirs, he overstates the similarity of their approaches,127 although the differences between them are mostly noted in the course of the discussion. Stone fundamentally disagrees with their treatment of the book as a theological treatise and with their identification of the author with Uriel’s point of view in opposition to Ezra’s.128 Stone maintains that Ezra is the real hero of the book and “the Odyssey of Ezra’s soul” its true subject.129 At the same time, however, he credits Brandenburger and Harnisch with drawing attention to the importance of the angel’s positions, which are “an essential part of the author’s teaching” and he agrees with them that Ezra’s parting speech to the people (14:28–36) “embodies” Uriel’s point of view.130 He concludes, echoing Gunkel, that “Ezra and the angel are both the author but are Janus faces of the author’s self.”131 In general, Gunkel’s approach seems to have risen in Stone’s esteem since the days of his dissertation. He is willing to let Gunkel’s critique of Kabisch stand without qualification, and indeed he asserts that “the methodological basis of [Gunkel’s] analysis has not been refuted.”132 In fact, in spite of his engagement with Brandenburger and Harnisch, Stone essentially makes Gunkel’s approach his own. The only significant difference is that he places more emphasis on Ezra’s development in

126 Stone, “The Way of the Most High and the Injustice of God in 4 Ezra,” in Selected Studies in the Pseudepigrapha and Apocrypha, with Special Reference to the Armenian Tradition (Leiden: Brill, 1991), 348–58. The final footnote acknowledges his disagreement with the conclusions of Harnisch and Brandenburger, but refers the reader to his forthcoming commentary for an explanation of how he differs with them. 127 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 15, 19. 128 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 18. 129 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 32. 130 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 30, 16. 131 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 32. 132 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 15. He acknowledges (n. 113) Brandenburger’s and Harnisch’s objections to the “psychological approach,” but apparently considers them to be nullified by his own criticism of their approach.

30

chapter one

the course of the dialogues. He presents his understanding of Ezra’s gradual transformation as the crucial difference between his approach and that of Brandenburger and Harnisch.133 He even says that the reversal of Ezra’s role (from comforted to comforter) in the fourth vision “is possible only because Ezra has accepted fully what the angel has said to him in the course of the previous visions.”134 As this statement shows, Stone does not accept that Ezra’s lament introducing the fourth episode is ironic, as Brandenburger argues so cogently.135 Stone’s commentary surpasses its predecessors in most respects. As noted above, his translation takes into account all of the versions. The commentary assembles a great many parallels from rabbinic literature as well as from the other Pseudepigrapha, particularly for the eschatological traditions to which the author refers. Stone is also sensitive to the exegetical nature of many passages in the book. Nevertheless, Stone’s belief that “the religious experiences described in 4 Ezra . . . were the actual experiences of the author”136 prevents him from seeing any other purpose for 4 Ezra apart from revealing the author’s psychology. It is also difficult to reconcile this assertion with Stone’s emphasis on the epilogue as an integral part, even the climax, of the narrative, since he surely does not believe that the author himself received the revelation of the ninety-four books or was taken up to heaven.137 Although Stone makes a strong case for the psychological interpretation of 4 Ezra, I do not ultimately find it adequate to explain the nature of the theological debate in the dialogues. The sharply divergent views of Ezra and Uriel seem to me to reflect an actual theological debate, external to the author, as Brandenburger and Harnisch perceived. On the other hand, Stone’s understanding of Ezra’s conversion as a reflection of the author’s own religious experience may be the only way to

133 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 24. According to Stone, Brandenburger and Harnisch are in full agreement that “there is no advance or development in the course of the first three visions.” In reality, Harnisch is neither consistent nor clear on this point: in Verhängnis und Verheißung der Geschichte, he suggests that the angel emerges as the clear victor in the theological debates, while in the later article “Der Prophet,” he acknowledges that the angel prevails only by virtue of his greater authority and that Ezra’s conversion takes place only in the fourth episode. 134 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 31. 135 Brandenburger, Verborgenheit Gottes, 63–68. 136 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 33. 137 Compare his remarks in the introduction to Fourth Ezra, 33–35, with his comments on the epilogue in Fourth Ezra, 412, 416–17 and 428–29.

introduction and history of scholarship on 4 ezra

31

account for the author’s apparent satisfaction with the visions as a solution to the theological problems raised in the dialogues. Nevertheless, it is important to distinguish between the author and Ezra, especially since the character Ezra fulfils three quite distinct functions in the course of the book: he is a foil for Uriel’s worldview in the dialogues, a model recipient of esoteric revelation in the visions, and a scribal transmitter both of Scripture and of esoteric revelation in the epilogue. Several more recent contributions to scholarship on 4 Ezra bear mention here because each brings a differently nuanced psychological approach to the interpretation of 4 Ezra. Edith McEwan Humphrey, in her chapter on 4 Ezra in The Ladies and the Cities, focuses on the fourth episode, arguing that Zion’s transformation from a mourning woman into a glorious city is the key to understanding Ezra’s transformation in the course of the book.138 When Ezra realizes that “the lamenting and heavenly Zion are one,” he recognizes the transformative potential of his own and his people’s mourning.139 Dereck M. Daschke’s unpublished dissertation applies Freudian and contemporary psychoanalytic theory to interpreting three early Jewish texts that portray characters in mourning; he views the mourning woman as a projection of Ezra’s former self.140 Shannon Burkes, in her discussion of 4 Ezra in God, Self and Death, presents Ezra’s struggle with God (through Uriel) as a working through of the problem of individual identity in relation to the community (Israel) and in the context of a pessimistic view of human nature.141 Frances Flannery-Dailey’s discussion of 4 Ezra in Dreamers, Scribes and Priests interprets Ezra’s religious experience within the framework of ancient understandings of dreams.142 All four of these authors are dependent on Stone for their basic understanding of 4 Ezra but extend his interpretations in interesting directions.

Edith McEwan Humphrey, The Ladies and the Cities: Transformation and Apocalyptic Identity in Joseph and Aseneth, 4 Ezra, the Apocalypse and the Shepherd of Hermas ( JSPSup 17; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1995), 57–81. 139 Humphrey, Ladies and the Cities, 80–81. 140 Dereck M. Daschke, “Loss, Fantasy and Recovery in Ancient Judaism: Ezekiel, 4 Ezra and the Baruch Apocalypses as Texts of Mourning” (Ph.D. diss., University of Chicago, 2000). 141 Burkes, Shannon. God, Self, and Death: The Shape of Religious Transformation in the Second Temple Period ( JSJSup79; Leiden: Brill, 2003), 191–233. 142 Frances Flannery-Dailey, Dreamers, Scribes and Priests: Jewish Dreams in the Hellenistic and Roman Eras ( JSJSup 90; Leiden: Brill, 2004), 212–20. 138

32

chapter one 2.4

Moving Toward a Synthesis

The first scholar to integrate the insights of Brandenburger and Harnisch into a primarily psychological interpretation of 4 Ezra was John J. Collins in the first edition of The Apocalyptic Imagination.143 Although he does not mention them by name in the text, he cites the views of Brandenburger and Harnisch favorably at several points in the notes to the pages on 4 Ezra, but he comes down squarely on the side of Gunkel with respect to the unity of the book and the identification of Ezra and Uriel as two sides of the author’s self. In the second edition of The Apocalyptic Imagination, which appeared after Stone’s commentary on 4 Ezra, Collins agrees with Stone that there is a gradual transformation of Ezra beginning in the dialogues and culminating in the epilogue.144 Nevertheless, he retains a fair-minded respect for the views of Brandenburger and Harnisch, as well as citing favorably the work of Bruce W. Longenecker. Longenecker is an exception to the predominance of psychological interpretations in recent Anglophone scholarship on 4 Ezra. While seldom disagreeing openly with Stone or Collins, Longenecker is more sympathetic than they to the approaches of Brandenburger and Harnisch. In his dissertation, he recognizes that neither Ezra nor Uriel is the author’s exclusive spokesman, but he maintains that Uriel’s viewpoint prevails in the dialogues and is reinforced by the visions and the epilogue.145 Even more than Brandenburger, he emphasizes the individualistic and universalistic presuppositions of Uriel’s arguments.146 The primary “error” on Ezra’s part that Uriel seeks to correct is the “nationalistic” belief that God views Israel any differently from the rest of sinful humanity.147 Longenecker agrees with E. P. Sanders that there is a dominant “pattern of religion” in early Judaism against which the author of 4 Ezra, like Paul, is reacting, but rather than “covenantal nomism,” he prefers to call it “ethnocentric covenantalism.”148 Like 143 John J. Collins, The Apocalyptic Imagination: An Introduction to the Jewish Matrix of Christianity (New York: Crossroad, 1984). 144 John J. Collins, The Apocalyptic Imagination: An Introduction to Jewish Apocalyptic Literature (2nd ed.; Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1998), 200. Subsequent references will be to the second edition. 145 Bruce W. Longenecker, Eschatology and the Covenant: A Comparison of 4 Ezra and Romans 1–11 ( JSNTSup 57; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1991), 150. 146 Longenecker, Eschatology and the Covenant, 95–96. 147 Longenecker, Eschatology and the Covenant, 93. 148 Longenecker, Eschatology and the Covenant, 34.

introduction and history of scholarship on 4 ezra

33

Thompson, Longenecker views the debate between Uriel and Ezra as fundamentally one between universalism and particularism, but in direct opposition to Thompson (and more accurately, I believe), he identifies Uriel as the universalist and Ezra as the particularist. Because he has a comparison with Romans 1–11 in view, Longenecker’s dissertation focuses on those theological concerns which the author of 4 Ezra shares with Paul, and at times he reads 4 Ezra through Pauline lenses. That is, he claims that Uriel redefines Israel as consisting of the few who keep the law and who will therefore be saved in the world to come.149 In fact, the term “Israel” very rarely occurs in Uriel’s speeches, and never in a context identifying it with those who will be saved. Longenecker relies on this “redefinition” of Israel in his quite unconvincing interpretation of the dream visions, which he reads as reaffirming Uriel’s claim in the dialogues that only a few individuals who keep the law perfectly will be saved in the Messianic kingdom.150 Nevertheless, he has the important insight that Uriel removes the law from its covenantal context and thus breaks the connection between membership in Israel (as traditionally defined) and salvation.151 Longenecker follows Brandenburger and Harnisch in describing Ezra’s transformation in the course of the work as primarily an intellectual shift rather than a religious conversion or an experience of consolation. His description of this shift is less positive than either of theirs, however: he claims that Ezra abandons his belief in the covenant and God’s mercy in favor of a “stringent legalism” that is at odds with the scriptural tradition.152 Unlike Brandenburger and Harnisch, he reads the dialogues as a debate not between the author and an external opponent, but between the author’s present, radical understanding and his earlier, traditional belief.153 The most important contribution of Longenecker’s dissertation is the observation that, despite the skeptical tone of Ezra’s arguments, they are rooted in the dominant theology of the Hebrew Bible, while Uriel’s theological presuppositions are quite radical, despite his insistence on God’s justice.

149 150 151 152 153

Longenecker, Longenecker, Longenecker, Longenecker, Longenecker,

Eschatology Eschatology Eschatology Eschatology Eschatology

and and and and and

the the the the the

Covenant, Covenant, Covenant, Covenant, Covenant,

96. 117, 129–30. 98. 152, 156. 153.

34

chapter one

Longenecker modified his approach to 4 Ezra, especially to the visions, in his subsequent guide to 2 Esdras.154 Because this guide is written for a more general audience, he does not explain where he now stands in relation to other scholarly approaches. His reading of the dialogues is consistent with his dissertation, and although he admits the possibility of irony in the opening lament of the fourth episode, he still prefers to read it (following Harnisch) as revealing that Ezra has finally accepted Uriel’s theological stance in the dialogues.155 On the other hand, he acknowledges that the visions reflect a more nationalistic eschatology than that of Uriel in the dialogues.156 Still, he sees them as confirming what he takes to be the essential points of Uriel’s theology, the justice of God and the “divinely pre-ordained timetable of history.”157 Longenecker pays more attention to the psychological or spiritual aspect of Ezra’s transformation in this guide, but he still maintains that “[a] theological case is being put forward in relation to traditional views concerning divine activity.”158 He characterizes the author’s perspective as a “redefinition” of covenant theology such that “the benefits of the covenant have been restricted to the ranks of exceptional people, and traditional notions such as atonement and divine mercy are practically vacuous.”159 Thus, despite a more even-handed treatment of the visions, Longenecker still identifies the author’s theological perspective primarily with that of Uriel in the dialogues. Longenecker’s most recent article on 4 Ezra makes the daring claim that its social setting can be pinpointed, based on internal evidence, to the nascent rabbinic community at Yavneh.160 The evidence he brings does not warrant this confident conclusion, but he makes some valuable points along the way. His arguments are summarized in the discussion of the author’s social location in the final chapter. I agree with Longenecker about the need to ask the question of the author’s purpose and Sitz-im-Leben. While I think he overreaches in his conclusions,

154 Bruce W. Longenecker, Second Esdras (Guides to Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1995). 155 Longenecker, Second Esdras, 62–64. 156 Longenecker, Second Esdras, 71. 157 Longenecker, Second Esdras, 97. 158 Longenecker, Second Esdras, 97. He also describes 4 Ezra as “perhaps a kind of theological position paper, anachronistically speaking” (ibid., 107). 159 Longenecker, Second Esdras, 100. 160 Bruce W. Longenecker, “Locating 4 Ezra: A Consideration of its Social Setting and Functions,” JSJ 28 (1997): 271–93.

introduction and history of scholarship on 4 ezra

35

I agree with his reading of the epilogue and with the general statement that the beliefs of the author of 4 Ezra were not so remote from those of the early rabbis as some scholars believe.161 Longenecker’s effort to bridge the gap between the divergent approaches of recent Germanand English-language scholarship on 4 Ezra sets the direction that I hope to follow in this book. 3. The Present Study My approach to 4 Ezra is similar to that of Brandenburger and Harnisch (and, more recently, Longenecker) in that I read the dialogues as a literary representation of a theological debate external to the author rather than as a reflection of his own divided mind. I agree with them that Ezra and Uriel represent two conflicting theological stances in the dialogues, and I think Brandenburger is right to identify Uriel’s theology with that of eschatologically-oriented wisdom circles. I do not, however, accept Brandenburger’s identification of the author’s theological perspective with that of Uriel in the dialogues, along with Ezra’s statements from the beginning with his conversation with the mourning woman through the end of the book. While there is no denying that Ezra echoes some of Uriel’s views in his speeches to the woman and to the assembled people, there are significant aspects of Uriel’s message that Ezra never accepts. For example, in his conversation with the mourning woman, Ezra maintains that the perdition of the mass of humanity in the final judgment causes the earth ( justifiably) to mourn for her lost children (10:11–14), although Uriel insists that “the Most High made this world for the sake of many, but the world to come for the sake of few” (8:1). Moreover, both the visions and Ezra’s speeches to the people (12:46–49 and 14:28–36) affirm Ezra’s belief in God’s continued mercy towards Israel, which Uriel rigorously denies in the dialogues. I read the dialogues between Ezra and Uriel not as the instruction of a foolish or skeptical Ezra in an eschatologically-oriented type of wisdom, as Brandenburger does, but rather a debate between representatives of two forms or schools of wisdom. While it seems likely that the

Stone’s commentary on 4 Ezra is a valuable corrective to a tendency among contemporary scholars, perhaps influenced by E. P. Sanders in Paul and Palestinian Judaism, to view 4 Ezra in opposition to proto-rabbinic Judaism. See for example Collins, Apocalyptic Imagination, 211. 161

36

chapter one

author was representing a debate that was going on in his own time, it is impossible to know that for certain. It is possible that the author was simply imagining what such a debate would be like. It seems useful, in any case, to attempt to identify the antecedents in Second Temple period Judaism of the theological stances taken by Ezra and Uriel in the dialogues. As noted above, I think Brandenburger is basically correct in identifying Uriel with an eschatologically-oriented school of wisdom, but he also characterizes Uriel’s theology as “apocalyptic,”162 which facilitates his interpretation of the apocalyptic visions in the fourth, fifth and sixth episodes as confirming Uriel’s theology in the dialogues. I attempt to suggest a more specific background for Uriel’s theology through the discussion of the “eschatological wisdom” of 4QInstruction in the following chapter. In the third chapter, on the dialogues of 4 Ezra, I argue that the author exposes some tensions inherent in eschatological wisdom and that Uriel is therefore not a mouthpiece for the author’s own theology any more than Ezra is. I diverge significantly from Brandenburger and Harnisch with respect to their characterizations of Ezra’s position in the dialogues. Ezra’s skepticism is more a matter of the tone of his arguments than of their theological content. The assumptions underlying his laments and questions are similar to those of the “pattern of religion” that E. P. Sanders called “covenantal nomism.”163 I agree with Longenecker that Ezra’s theology would perhaps be better characterized as “ethnocentric covenantalism” because of his assumption of the superiority of Israel to other nations and his lack of confidence in the law as an anitdote to the “evil heart.”164 On the other hand, Longenecker overlooks another

Brandenburger, Verborgenheit Gottes, 197. On page 422 of Paul and Palestinian Judaism, Sanders summarizes the “pattern” of covenantal nomism: “(1) God has chosen Israel and (2) given the law. The law implies both (3) God’s promise to maintain the election and (4) the requirement to obey. (5) God rewards obedience and punishes transgression. (6) The law provides for means of atonement, and atonement results in (7) maintenance or re-establishment of the covenantal relationship. (8) All those who are maintained in the covenant by obedience, atonement and God’s mercy belong to the group which will be saved.” Ezra clearly affirms points (1)–(5); (6) has been called into question by the destruction of the Temple, the primary means of atonement; but the real obstacle to salvation (8) for him is the “evil heart,” which renders obedience well-nigh impossible. Nevertheless, he hopes for the promised salvation of Israel on the basis of God’s mercy and their election (8:20–36). 164 See Longenecker, Eschatology and the Covenant, 34. He would extend the label “ethnocentric covenantalism” to all of the texts that Sanders discusses, but I see it as an apt label only for Ezra’s theology in the dialogues. 162 163

introduction and history of scholarship on 4 ezra

37

feature of Ezra’s theology, his constant references to creation as the basis for his belief in God’s mercy and as the frame of reference for at least two of his laments (the first and third). The creation-theology basis of many of Ezra’s arguments, combined with his overwhelming desire to “understand the way of the Most High” (5:34), suggests that a wisdom background should be sought for his theology as well. I argue that Ezra disputes Uriel’s theological claims from the perspective of covenantal wisdom, the fusion of wisdom and covenant theologies that first appears in Sirach. An example of covenantal wisdom that exhibits an ethnocentrism comparable to that of Ezra is the wisdom poem in Baruch, which is discussed along with Sirach in the following chapter. While I agree with Hayman that the author would not have chosen Ezra as the spokesman for a point of view that he wished to discredit, Ezra is nevertheless represented as in the midst of a crisis of faith. His theology is not adequate to cope with his people’s predicament; he questions the very beliefs that he struggles to maintain. Thus Ezra embodies a breakdown of covenantal wisdom in response to the fall of Jerusalem to the Romans. Uriel’s arguments serve to hasten the demise of Ezra’s traditional beliefs, but the form of wisdom in which he instructs Ezra offers little in the way of consolation for the losses of the Destruction. Uriel’s emphasis on individual responsibility for salvation through obedience to the law and his denial of God’s mercy in the final judgment only deepen Ezra’s despair about the possibility of salvation for any of the descendents of Adam. At the same time, Uriel fails to address Ezra’s concern with the redemption of Israel. Thus, neither Ezra nor Uriel, nor some conflation of their points of view in the dialogues, represents the author’s own beliefs. I agree for the most part with Brandenburger’s reading of the ironic lament that opens the fourth episode (the Vision of the Mourning Woman), though I draw different conclusions from it. Rather than showing that Ezra has not yet fully capitulated to Uriel’s point of view, I think this speech is meant to demonstrate the incompatibility of Uriel’s individualistic eschatology with the assumptions of Ezra’s covenant theology. Far from being comforted by Uriel’s revelations, Ezra has been reduced to a state of utter confusion and despair. Also differently from Brandenburger, I do not see Ezra’s conversation with the mourning woman, in which he is still mourning over the destruction of Zion, as the turning point of his transformation. Instead, I point to Ezra’s reaction upon witnessing her transfiguration into the eschatological Zion, at which point he finally acknowledges the failure

38

chapter one

of his own understanding and begs Uriel for an explanation of the vision (10:28–37). The “solution” that the author presents in the form of the interpreted visions of the Mourning Woman, Eagle and Man from the Sea is a religious rather than an intellectual one, as Breech first observed and as Stone affirms.165 I find Stone’s psychological reading of 4 Ezra more illuminating than the approach of Brandenburger and Harnisch when it comes to explaining the gradual transformation or “conversion” that Ezra undergoes in the course of the fourth, fifth and sixth episodes.166 Unlike Stone, however, I do not see the dialogues as contributing to Ezra’s conversion, except in a negative way. My understanding of the function of the visions in relation to the dialogues of 4 Ezra may be compared to the role of myth in Plato’s earlier dialogues, according to Kierkegaard: “The dialectical first clears the terrain of everything extraneous and now attempts to climb up to the Idea; when this attempt fails, however, the imagination reacts. Fatigued by these dialectical exertions, the imagination lays itself down to dream, and from this is derived the mythical.”167 That is, the outcome of the dialogues as seen in Ezra’s lament at the beginning of the fourth episode is purely negative, an ironic illustration of the incompatibility of the two forms of wisdom, analogous to a Socratic aporia.168 The three apocalyptic visions fill this void with imagery that appeals to the imagination, and they succeed in consoling Ezra where Uriel’s arguments failed.169 The difference between Uriel’s arguments and the visions is not limited to their form and function, however. With the exception of a few verses (7:26–29, and possibly 6:8–10), Uriel’s arguments in the dialogues are concerned with the salvation or damnation of individuals 165 Breech, “These Fragments,” 274; cf. Stone, “Reactions to Destructions,” 202–04, and Fourth Ezra, 32–33, 36. 166 Stone likens Ezra’s transformation to a religious conversion in the introduction to Fourth Ezra, 31–33, although he expresses some reservations about the appropriateness of the term “conversion” (ibid., 326–27). In chapter IV, section 1, I argue that the term “conversion” is in fact an appropriate description of Ezra’s experience. 167 Søren Kierkegaard, The Concept of Irony, with Constant Reference to Socrates (trans. Lee M. Capel; Bloomington and London: Indiana University Press, 1965), 132. 168 On the purely negative force of Socratic irony (which Kierkegaard distinguishes from Platonic irony), see Concept of Irony, 111–15 and 150–56. Of course, the analogy between the dialogues of 4 Ezra and Plato’s dialogues can be maintained only at the highest level of abstraction. 169 Stone (Fourth Ezra, 36) observes that the answers provided by the visions are not “theologically adequate,” but they are nevertheless “religiously satisfying.” Compare the comments of Collins, Apocalyptic Imagination, 210–11.

introduction and history of scholarship on 4 ezra

39

in a universal final judgment and not with the redemption of Israel or the punishment of the nations. The visions, on the other hand, draw upon common apocalyptic motifs that have their roots in prophetic eschatology: the glorification of Zion, the eschatological battle against the nations, the Davidic Messiah (who is merged with Daniel’s “one like a Son of Man” in the vision of the Man from the Sea) and the ingathering of the Twelve Tribes. Since Ezra is concerned primarily with the fate of Israel and only secondarily with that of sinful humanity as a whole (8:15–16), it is hardly surprising that he should be comforted by the biblical imagery of the visions and not by Uriel’s individualistic universalism. Thus the visions represent a third theology—an apocalyptic theology—that is distinct from either of the sapiential theologies represented in the dialogues. The primary focus of the visions is on divine intervention in human history as the only possible means of righting the present injustice of Israel’s subjection to its enemies. Even though Uriel emphasizes that God alone can bring about the eschatological events (6:6), his wisdom instructions are chiefly concerned with the responsibility of individual human beings for ensuring that they will be saved in the final judgment (7:127–31). By contrast, the final judgment is mentioned only once in the visions (12:34). The judgment depicted in the visions of the Eagle and the Man from the Sea is that of the enemy nations by the Messiah, which ushers in the messianic age, a 400-year period prior to the final judgment that Uriel alludes to in passing (7:26–29) in his most complete account of the eschatological events (7:26–44). The judging function of the Messiah is not mentioned in that context, but in all contexts his status as a pre-existent agent of the Most High is clear.170 The fundamental message of the two dream-visions is that Israel’s defeat by Rome will be vindicated in due time, not by any human action, but by the intervention of the Most High through his agent, the Messiah. Similarly, the interpretation of the vision of the Mourning Woman emphasizes that the eschatological Jerusalem will be the heavenly Jerusalem revealed on earth, not any work of human hands (10:54; cf. 13:36).

170 Michael E. Stone, “The Concept of the Messiah in 4 Ezra,” in Religions in Antiquity: Essays in Memory of Erwin Ramsdell Goodenough (ed. Jacob Neusner; Leiden: Brill, 1968), 310.

40

chapter one

Because the visions bring about Ezra’s conversion, they are more likely than either Ezra’s or Uriel’s position in the dialogues to reflect the author’s own theology at the time of writing. On the other hand, the author probably had first-hand knowledge of the two schools of wisdom represented in the dialogues. In fact, there are clear indications that his book is intended for a restricted audience, called “the wise,” or “sages.” First, Ezra is told to keep the records of his own visions hidden and to “teach them to the wise among your people, whose hearts you know are able to comprehend and keep these secrets” (12:37–38). In the epilogue, Ezra receives a twofold revelation which he dictates to five scribes: the twenty-four books of the Hebrew Scriptures, which “the worthy and the unworthy” (14:46) are to read, and an additional seventy books which are to be reserved for the wise, “for in them is the spring of understanding, the fountain of wisdom and the river of knowledge” (14:47). A further clue to the intended audience and purpose of the book is God’s command to Ezra near the beginning of the epilogue: “. . . reprove your people; comfort the lowly among them and instruct those that are wise” (14:13). Ezra’s speech to the people in the epilogue exemplifies the functions of reproof and comfort, but reveals little of what he has learned either in the dialogues or the visions. It seems likely, therefore, that the rest of the book is intended not for the consolation of the people, as Breech and others have maintained, but for the instruction of the wise. The dialogues, I believe, are meant to demonstrate to the wise that while both the covenantal and the eschatological wisdom traditions have something to learn from the other, neither has an adequate theological response to the crisis of faith brought about by the Destruction. The inconclusive outcome of the dialogues implies that debates among the sages, while potentially instructive to them, will never yield a satisfactory response to this crisis, because some questions do not admit of rational answers. The visions and epilogue offer a way out of this intellectual quandary, showing that despair can be overcome by belief in divine revelation. For the ordinary people, who presumably did not spend their time debating the sorts of questions raised in the dialogues, putting their faith in the promises of the traditional Scriptures and living in obedience to the law were sufficient, the author believed. The wise, however, needed to accept the additional revelations of the apocalyptic literature in order to follow Ezra’s path from despair to hope and from confusion to understanding.

CHAPTER TWO

THE SAPIENTIAL BACKGROUND OF THE CONFLICTING THEOLOGIES IN THE DIALOGUES OF 4 EZRA 1. Introduction Although the affinities of 4 Ezra with the wisdom tradition have been noted in passing by a number of scholars,1 no one has yet attempted to correlate the positions taken by Ezra and Uriel in the dialogues with competing forms of Jewish wisdom that developed in the Second Temple period. Brandenburger and Harnisch, who read the dialogues as a representation of a contemporary theological debate, do not see the debate as being between rival schools of wisdom. Brandenburger observes that the author “writes as a representative of wisdom circles,” but he takes into account only the “apocalyptic wisdom” revealed in

1 The most extensive treatment of the issue is Michael A. Knibb, “Apocalyptic and Wisdom in 4 Ezra,” JSJ 13 (1983): 56–74. Michael E. Stone, in his commentary Fourth Ezra: A Commentary on the Book of Fourth Ezra (Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1990), frequently points out the presence of “wisdom terminology” but does not draw any conclusions from it concerning the author’s social context or intended audience; in fact he questions Knibb’s characterization of the book as “a product of learned study intended for a learned audience” (ibid., 431). A list of points of contact between 4 Ezra and the wisdom tradition is assembled by Eckhard J. Schnabel, Law and Wisdom from Ben Sira to Paul: A Tradition Historical Inquiry into the Relation of Law, Wisdom and Ethics (WUNT II/16; Tübingen: Mohr/Siebeck, 1985), 147–51. Joan E. Cook points to the generally sapiential character of the questions raised in 4 Ezra in the conclusion of her essay, “Creation in IV Ezra: The Biblical Theme in Support of Theodicy,” in Creation in the Biblical Traditions (ed. R. J. Clifford and J. J. Collins; CBQMS 24; Washington, D.C.: Catholic Biblical Association of America, 1992), 129–39. Pieter G. R. de Villiers notes the close relationship between wisdom and salvation in 4 Ezra in his paper “Understanding the Way of God: Form, Function and Message of the Historical Review in 4 Ezra 3:4–27,” in SBL Seminar Papers, 1981 (SBLSP 20; ed. K. H. Richards; Chico, Calif.: Scholars Press, 1981), 357–78. Wolfgang Harnisch includes the relationship of the author to the wisdom tradition as one of the “open questions” about 4 Ezra in his article “Der Prophet als Widerpart und Zeuge der Offenbarung: Erwägungen zur Interdependenz von Form und Sache im IV. Buch Ezra,” in Apocalypticism in the Mediterranean World and the Near East: Proceedings of the International Colloquium on Apocalypticism, Uppsala, August 12–17, 1979 (ed. David Hellholm; Tübingen: Mohr/ Siebeck, 1983), 485. Most recently, see Shannon Burkes, “‘Life’ Redefined: Wisdom and Law in Fourth Ezra and Second Baruch,” CBQ 63 (2001): 55–71.

42

chapter two

Uriel’s speeches and in the visions.2 He treats Ezra’s point of view as a skeptical “anti-theology” and therefore does not attempt to locate it in relation to any known theologies. Similarly, Harnisch sees Ezra’s position as a composite of various challenges to the author’s theology, from both the creation and the covenant traditions, united only by their skepticism.3 Both he and Brandenburger have come to see the dialogues as instructional rather than polemical in intent, but they identify Uriel as the only instructor and Ezra as the representative of those in need of instruction. If, however, Ezra and Uriel represent the worldviews of two different schools of wisdom, it is possible that the dialogues are meant to be instructive to the members of both schools.4 This purpose would account for the curious fact that neither point of view clearly prevails within the dialogues. While the author does grant more authority to the positions taken by Uriel, he places very eloquent challenges to those positions in the mouth of Ezra. Moreover, the visions in the fourth, fifth and sixth episodes do not simply confirm Uriel’s eschatology in the dialogues, but rather shift the emphasis from an individual to a national eschatology that succeeds in consoling Ezra where Uriel’s arguments failed. Thus, although Uriel takes the role of instructor in the dialogues, in the course of the book his theology is “corrected” by the author as much as Ezra’s is.

Egon Brandenburger, Die Verborgenheit Gottes im Weltgeschehen: Das literarische und theologische Problem des 4. Esrabuches (ATANT 68; Zurich: Theologischer Verlag, 1981), 187–88, 197–98. 3 Harnisch, “Der Prophet,” 477. 4 “Schools of wisdom” is used here in the figurative sense of “schools of thought.” Nevertheless, it is likely that the covenantal form of wisdom was taught in schools that trained scribes (and perhaps in other schools as well, as education outside the home became more widespread in Greek- and Roman-ruled Palestine). See Aaron Demsky, “Education,” EncJud 6:382–98 (especially 384–86); James L. Crenshaw, Education in Ancient Israel: Across the Deadening Silence (ABRL; New York: Doubleday, 1998), 85–113, 266–77; David M. Carr, Writing on the Tablet of the Heart: Origins of Scripture and Literature (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2005). As for eschatological wisdom, schools may have existed to teach this type of wisdom within the communities that produced the wisdom texts found at Qumran, or it may have been passed down from parents to children, as implied by 4Q416 2 iii 18. Strugnell and Harrington comment in their introduction to the critical edition of 4QInstruction, “The rhetorical situation of instruction suggests a school (as in Sirach), though what sort of ‘school’ is to be imagined is not at all clear (since generally only one person is being instructed).” See John Strugnell and Daniel Harrington, Qumran Cave 4 XXIV, Sapiential Texts, Part 2: 4QInstruction (Musar leMevin): 4Q415ff, with a re-edition of 1Q26; with an edition of 4Q423 by T. Elgvin (DJD 34; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1999), 20. (Henceforth Strugnell and Harrington, DJD 34.) 2

sapiential background of the conflicting theologies

43

The present chapter is devoted to describing the sapiential background of the theological arguments advanced by both Uriel and Ezra in the dialogues. Their theologies are both rooted in the Jewish wisdom tradition, but that tradition branched off in several different directions in the Hellenistic period.5 The author of 4 Ezra appears to have had either no knowledge of or no use for the type of Jewish wisdom that was heavily influenced by Greek philosophy, represented by texts like 4 Maccabees, the sentences of Pseudo-Phocylides and the Wisdom of Solomon. On the other hand, the arguments of Uriel in the dialogues suggest that the author was familiar with the type of wisdom that is represented by the wisdom texts discovered at Qumran. Although these texts have received a good deal of attention in the past decade,6 scholars have not yet settled on a name for the type of wisdom they represent. It has been variously referred to as wisdom with an apocalyptic worldview,7 as revealed (or heavenly) wisdom,8 and as eschatological

5 Martin Hengel, Judaism and Hellenism: Studies in their Encounter in Palestine during the Early Hellenistic Period (trans. J. Bowden; 2 vols.; London: SCM; Philadelphia: Fortress, 1974), 1:153–75; John J. Collins, Jewish Wisdom in the Hellenistic Age (OTL; Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1997); idem, “Wisdom, Apocalypticism and Generic Compatibility,” in In Search of Wisdom: Essays in Memory of John G. Gammie (ed. L. G. Perdue, B. B. Scott and W. J. Wiseman; Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1993), 165–85. 6 Daniel J. Harrington, Wisdom Texts from Qumran (London: Routledge, 1996) sparked widespread interest in these texts; see there for bibliography on the Qumran wisdom texts up to 1995. In 1997, Dead Sea Discoveries 4/3 was devoted to wisdom at Qumran. See also Collins, Jewish Wisdom, 112–33; idem, “Wisdom, Apocalypticism and the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in Seers, Sybils and Sages in Hellenistic-Roman Judaism ( JSJSup 54; Leiden: Brill, 1997), 369–85; and John Kampen, “The Diverse Aspects of Wisdom in the Qumran Texts,” in The Dead Sea Scrolls After Fifty Years: A Comprehensive Assessment (2 vols.; ed. P. W. Flint and J. C. VanderKam; Leiden: Brill, 1998), 1:211–43. Several collections of essays focusing at least in part on the Qumran wisdom texts have appeared in recent years: D. K. Falk, F. García Martínez and E. Schuller, eds., Sapiential, Liturgical and Poetical Texts from Qumran (STDJ 35; Leiden: Brill, 2000); C. Hempel, A. Lange and H. Lichtenberger, eds., The Wisdom Texts from Qumran and the Development of Sapiential Thought (BETL 159; Leuven: Leuven University Press, 2002); F. García Martínez, ed., Wisdom and Apocalypticism in the Dead Sea Scrolls and in the Biblical Tradition (BETL 168; Leuven: Leuven University Press, 2002); J. J. Collins, G. E. Sterling and R. A. Clements, eds., Sapiential Perspectives: Wisdom Literature in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls (STDJ 51; Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2004). 7 Matthew Goff, The Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom of 4QInstruction (STDJ 50; Leiden: Brill, 2003). He writes, “This stream of the sapiential tradition [including 4QInstruction, the Book of Mysteries and the Treatise on the Two Spirits] is characterized by the combination of traditional wisdom with an apocalyptic worldview” (218). See also Daniel J. Harrington, “Wisdom and Apocalyptic in 4QInstruction and 4 Ezra,” in Wisdom and Apocalypticism (ed. García Martínez), 343–55. He concludes that “4QInstruction presents wisdom in an apocalyptic framework, whereas 4 Ezra presents apocalyptic or revealed wisdom” (355). 8 Alexander Rofé, “Revealed Wisdom: From the Bible to Qumran,” in Sapiential

44

chapter two

wisdom.9 The present study uses the term “eschatological” wisdom, for reasons explained below (section 2.6). Since the phenomenon of eschatological wisdom has been studied fairly extensively, the first portion of the chapter will focus on the longest example of eschatological wisdom, 4QInstruction.10

Perspectives (ed. Collins, Sterling and Clements), 1–11. See also Florentino García Martínez, “Wisdom at Qumran: Worldly or Heavenly?” in Wisdom and Apocalypticism (ed. García Martínez), 1–15. He writes (objecting to the title of Goff ’s book in the previous note), “Qumran wisdom is not worldly and heavenly wisdom, it is revealed wisdom, and thus thoroughly heavenly.” It is somewhat misleading to describe 4QInstruction as “revealed wisdom,” however, since it does not actually reveal any heavenly knowledge, although it appeals frequently to such knowledge, which has already been revealed to the addressees. This is the distinction alluded to in the quotation by Harrington in the previous footnote. See Goff, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 53; idem, “The Mystery of Creation in 4QInstruction,” DSD 10 (2003): 179. 9 John J. Collins, “The Eschatologizing of Wisdom in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in Sapiential Perspectives (ed. Collins, Sterling and Clements), 49–65 (term “eschatological wisdom” on 61). 10 4QInstruction was formerly known as 4QSapiential Work A. The first publication of all of the fragments was in A Preliminary Edition of the Unpublished Dead Sea Scrolls: The Hebrew and Aramaic Texts from Cave Four (2 vols.; ed. B. Z. Wacholder and M. G. Abegg; Washington, D.C.: Dead Sea Research Council, Biblical Archaeology Society, 1992), 2:44–154 and 166–73. The designation 4QInstruction is the more widely used of the two designations assigned to the work in the title of the critical edition, Qumran Cave 4 XXIV, Sapiential Texts, Part 2: 4QInstruction (Musar leMevin): 4Q415ff, with a re-edition of 1Q26; with an edition of 4Q423 by T. Elgvin (= Strugnell and Harrington, DJD 34). Within the text of that work, it is generally referred to as 4Q415ff., however. Other sapiential texts from Qumran with an eschatological orientation include 1Q27/4Q299–301 (Mysteries); 1QS 3:13–4:26 (the Treatise on the Two Spirits in the Rule of the Community); 4Q184 (Wiles of the Wicked Woman); 4Q185 (Sapiential Work); 4Q298 (Words of the Maskil to All Sons of Dawn); 4Q413 (Composition concerning Divine Providence), 4Q419 (Sapiential Work B); 4Q424 (Instruction-like Work) and 4Q525 (Beatitudes). All of the above, except for Mysteries and the Treatise on the Two Spirits, are grouped with 4QInstruction under “Wisdom Poems” in Florentino García Martínez, The Dead Sea Scrolls Translated:The Qumran Texts in English (2nd ed.; trans. W. G. E. Watson; Leiden: Brill, 1996). A similar list, with the addition of 4Q510–11 (Songs of the Sage), is found in James VanderKam and Peter Flint, The Meaning of the Dead Sea Scrolls: Their Significance for Understanding the Bible, Judaism, Jesus and Christianity (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 2002), 237. Some scholars would also include in this group 4Q215a (“Time of Righteousness”), although its sapiential character is less clear: see Årstein Justnes, “4Q215A (Time of Righteousness) in Context,” in Sapiential Perspectives (ed, Collins, Sterling and Clements), 141–70; Torleif Elgvin, “The Eschatological Hope of 4QTime of Righteousness,” in Wisdom and Apocalypticism (ed. García Martínez), 89–102. A useful comparison of these shorter sapiential texts to 4QInstruction, chiefly at the level of vocabulary, is John Strugnell, “The Smaller Hebrew Wisdom Texts Found at Qumran: Variations, Resemblances and Lines of Development,” in The Wisdom Texts from Qumran (ed. Hempel, Lange and Lichtenberger), 31–55.

sapiential background of the conflicting theologies

45

The second half of this chapter is devoted to establishing the background Ezra’s theology in the dialogues: covenantal wisdom, another branch of Jewish wisdom that is first attested in the early second century b.c.e. in the books of Sirach and Baruch, although it has its roots in Deuteronomy. The consequences of the incorporation of Torah piety into the Jewish wisdom tradition have been studied extensively,11 but to my knowledge no scholar has used the term “covenantal wisdom” to describe the end result of the wisdom-Torah synthesis.12 It is argued below that while Ben Sira introduced covenant theology into his wisdom book, creation theology remains his dominant frame of reference. In the wisdom poem of Baruch 3:9–4:4, on the other hand, Deuteronomic covenant theology has become the dominant paradigm, despite the poet’s reliance on wisdom terminology. Ezra’s theology in the dialogues is closer to that of Baruch in his emphasis on covenant and election themes, but he frequently reverts to arguments based in creation theology that are reminiscent of Sirach. 2. Eschatological Wisdom: 4QInstruction The longest and most studied of the Qumran wisdom texts is 4QInstruction.13 The fact that at least six different manuscripts of 4QInstruction

11 See, most recently, Jack T. Sanders, “When Sacred Canopies Collide: The Reception of the Torah of Moses into the Wisdom Literature of the Second Temple Period,” JSJ 32 (2001): 121–36. According to Michael Fishbane, the “axial shift in the role of the sage,” around the time of Ezra, to an interpreter of written revelations, “marks the closure of “ancient Israel” and the onset of “ancient Judaism.” See his essay, “From Scribalism to Rabbinism: Perspectives on the Emergence of Classical Judaism,” in The Sage in Israel and the Ancient Near East (ed. J. G. Gammie and L. G. Perdue; Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1990), 439–56 (here 440). 12 Stephen A. Geller uses the term “covenant Wisdom” to describe what he sees as a redefinition of wisdom in terms of covenant theology in Deuteronomy 4, in his article “Fiery Wisdom: Logos and Lexis in Deuteronomy 4,” Prooftexts 14 (1994): 103–39 (here 123). I think only the seeds of covenantal wisdom are present there (see below, section 3). John G. Gammie’s essay, “From Prudentialism to Apocalypticism: The Houses of the Sages and the Varying Forms of Wisdom,” in The Sage in Israel and the Ancient Near East (ed. Gammie and Perdue), 479–97, distinguishes between the “torahization” of wisdom, a process that begins with Deuteronomy, and the later “prophetization of wisdom,” which involves the introduction of the concepts of election, covenant and sacred history into wisdom literature, first attested in Sirach. 13 In addition to numerous essays, articles and chapters, many of which are cited below, there have been five book-length studies of 4QInstruction. The earliest, which examines only selected pericopes of 4QInstruction along with other Qumran wisdom texts, is Armin Lange, Weisheit und Prädestination: Weisheitliche Urordnung und Prädestination in

46

chapter two

were found at Qumran attests to its importance to the sect,14 but most scholars who have worked with it agree that it is not a sectarian composition.15 Strugnell and Harrington, in their general introduction to 4QInstruction in DJD 34, give numerous examples of differences in vocabulary and emphasis between 4QInstruction and the sectarian texts from caves 1 and 11.16 Although 4QInstruction alludes to several specific passages from the Torah, Torah in the abstract is not a theme in 4QInstruction (in contrast to many of the sectarian scrolls, and also to Sirach and Baruch).17 The halakhic interpretation of three passages from

den Textfunden von Qumran (STDJ 18; Leiden: Brill, 1995). The first comprehensive study is Torleif Elgvin’s unpublished dissertation, “An Analysis of 4QInstruction,” (Hebrew University of Jerusalem, 1997). A second dissertation, which is heavily dependent on Elgvin’s and which focuses exclusively on the “admonition” sections (as identified by Elgvin), is Daryl F. Jeffries, Wisdom at Qumran: A Form-Critical Analysis of the Admonitions of 4QInstruction (Gorgias Dissertations 3; Piscataway, N.J.: Gorgias Press, 2002). An important supplement to DJD 34 and study of selected themes is Eibert J. C. Tigchelaar, To Increase Learning for the Understanding Ones: Reading and Reconstructing the Fragmentary Early Jewish Sapiential Text 4QInstruction (STDJ 44; Leiden: Brill, 2001). The most comprehensive thematic study is Goff, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom. 14 Major fragments are preserved in 4Q416, 417 and 418, and smaller fragments in 1Q26, 4Q415 and 4Q423. Elgvin believes that two separate copies are represented by 4Q418 (“The Reconstruction of Sapiential Work A,” RevQ 16 [1995]: 559–80), and his count of seven total manuscripts is followed by Strugnell and Harrington (DJD 34, 21). Tighchelaar believes that 4Q418 fragments 1–2 belong to yet a third manuscript, bringing the total number of copies to eight (To Increase Learning, 15–17). 15 See Matthew J. Goff, “Reading Wisdom at Qumran: 4QInstruction and the Hodayot,” DSD 11 (2004): 263–88, especially 267–9; idem, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 219–28. On criteria for determining whether a text is of sectarian provenance, see Carol A. Newsom, “ ‘Sectually Explicit’ Literature from Qumran,” in The Hebrew Bible and its Interpreters (ed. W. H. Propp, B. Halpern and D. N. Freedman; Biblical and Judaic Studies from the University of California, San Diego 1; Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1990), 167–87. Lange (Weisheit und Prädestination, 6–20) provides a narrower set of criteria, on the basis of Harmut Stegemann’s reconstruction of the history of the Essene sect in Die Essener, Qumran, Johannes der Täufer, und Jesus (Freiburg im Breisgau: Herder, 1993); ET The Library of Qumran: On The Essenes, Qumran, John the Baptist and Jesus (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans; Leiden: Brill, 1998). 16 Strugnell and Harrington, DJD 34, 24–31. 17 Goff, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 69–73; Collins, “Eschatologizing of Wisdom,” 64–5. Contrast the views of Armin Lange, “In Diskussion mit dem Tempel: zur Auseinandersetzung zwischen Kohelet und weisheitlichen Kreisen am Jerusalemer Tempel,” in Qohelet in the Context of Wisdom (ed. A. Schoors; BETL 136; Leuven: Leuven University Press, 1998), 113–60. On the other hand, 4QInstruction, like Sirach, shows a particular interest in the exegesis of Genesis 1–3, especially in what these chapters have to say about the human condition (see section 2.3 below). See Daniel J. Harrington, “Two Early Jewish Approaches to Wisdom: Sirach and Qumran Sapiential Work A,” JSP 16 (1997): 31; idem, “Ten Reasons Why the Qumran Wisdom Texts are Important,” DSD 4 (1997): 249. This interest also sets 4QInstruction apart from the sectarian scrolls, which pay

sapiential background of the conflicting theologies

47

the Torah alluded to in 4QInstruction differs from that of the sectarian scrolls.18 Nor is there any reference in 4QInstruction to a messianic figure or to the Teacher of Righteousness. Strugnell and Harrington date 4QInstruction earlier than Sirach, both because it shows no awareness of the Wisdom-Torah synthesis that is so central to Sirach and the wisdom poem in Baruch, and because of its quasi-canonical status at Qumran, which would be hard to explain if it were contemporary with the sectarian writings but originating outside of the sect.19 Like Proverbs and Sirach, 4QInstruction combines practical advice, usually in the form of brief admonitions, with longer discourses or meditations on wisdom and theology. The contrast in worldview between 4QInstruction and the other two sapiential texts is most apparent in the longer discourses, which focus on eschatological judgment, revealed wisdom, and the creation of the world and of human beings. In his pioneering work on 4QInstruction, Elgvin assigned the “admonitions,” which he saw as appealing to reason, and the “discourses,” which appeal to revelation, to different literary strata.20 Most subsequent scholarship on 4QInstruction has called into question Elgvin’s view of the text as a composite of “sapiential” and “apocalyptic” sources, although it is certainly possible that 4QInstruction incorporates some traditional material.21 Although the present discussion of the “eschatological wisdom” of 4QInstruction will focus almost

surprisingly little attention to the Eden pericope, according to E. J. C. Tigchelaar, “Eden and Paradise: The Garden Motif in Some Early Jewish Texts (1 Enoch and Other Texts Found at Qumran),” in Paradise Interpreted: Representations of Biblical Paradise in Judaism and Christianity (ed. G. P. Luttikhuizen; Themes in Biblical Narrative 2; Leiden: Brill, 1999), 50; similarly, F. García Martínez, “Man and Woman: Halakhah Based on Eden in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in the same volume, 97. 18 Lawrence H. Schiffman, “Halakhic Elements in the Sapiential Texts from Qumran,” in Sapiential Perspectives (ed. Collins, Sterling and Clements), 89–100. 19 Strugnell and Harrington, DJD 34, 27 and 31. They note that Stegemann (Die Essener, 142–43) would date it as early as the late 4th–early 3rd century, but they do not think the linguistic evidence is sufficient to fix a specific date. Goff (Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 228–32) considers a date sometime in the second century more likely. He questions the reasoning of Strugnell and Harrington regarding the relative dating of 4QInstruction and Sirach, since he sees the two wisdom texts as stemming from different segments of society. See below, section 2.6. 20 Elgvin, “Analysis of 4QInstruction,” 53–57; idem, “Wisdom and Apocalypticism in the Early Second Century B.C.E.—The Evidence of 4QInstruction,” in The Dead Sea Scrolls Fifty Years After Their Discovery (ed. L. H. Schiffman, E. Tov and J. C. VanderKam; Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 2000), 226–47. 21 E.g., Tigchelaar, To Increase Learning, 246–7; Goff, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 13–15, 216–219; García Martínez, “Wisdom at Qumran: Worldly or Heavenly?” 8–15.

48

chapter two

exclusively on the discourses, it is important to bear in mind that they are interspersed throughout the work with practical admonitions. One theme that runs through both the admonitions and the discourses is the assumed poverty of the addressee. In 4QInstruction poverty is not idealized; it is simply a fact of life.22 On the one hand, the addressee is advised “do not desire something beyond thy share/inheritance, and be not thou confused by it, lest thou ‘displace thy boundary,’ ” but on the other hand, “if (men) restore thee to splendor (?), walk in it, and by the mystery that is to come study the origins thereof . . .” and “to Him who glorifies thee give honor, and praise His name continually, for out of poverty he has lifted up thy head . . .” (4Q416 2 iii, 8–11).23 Poverty is no excuse for failing to seek wisdom: “do not say, I am needy and I will not study (?) knowledge. Bring thy shoulder under all instruction . . . study the mystery that is to come, and understand all the ways of truth, and all the roots of iniquity thou shalt contemplate. Then thou shalt know what is bitter for a man, and what is sweet for a person” (4Q416 2 iii, 12–15). 2.1

Epistemology: Revealed Wisdom

The quotations in the previous paragraph exemplify the combination of practical advice and appeals to revealed wisdom that is typical of 4QInstruction. The most common term for revealed wisdom in this text is raz nihyeh (‫)רז נהיה‬, a phrase that is used (or can be plausibly reconstructed) a total of 32 times in the extant fragments of 4QInstruction.24 This is surely the central concept of the book, but its referent remains obscure, and scholars disagree on the appropriate translation. The Persian loan-word ‫ רז‬is the standard Aramaic term for “mystery,” adopted into post-biblical Hebrew and frequent in the Qumran sectarian 22 Harrington, Wisdom Texts from Qumran, 45. Detailed discussions of the theme of poverty in 4QInstruction are found in Catherine M. Murphy, Wealth in the Dead Sea Scrolls and the Qumran Community (STDJ 40; Leiden: Brill, 2002), 163–209 and Goff, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 127–67. See also Benjamin G. Wright III, “The Categories of Rich and Poor in the Qumran Sapiential Literature,” in Sapiential Perspectives (ed. Collins, Sterling and Clements), 101–23. 23 Translation of Strugnell and Harrington, DJD 34, 112–13. Unless otherwise noted, quotations are from this translation. 24 Strugnell and Harrington, DJD 34, 28. The phrase also occurs in 1Q/4Q Mysteries and once in the Rule of the Community (1QS 11:3–4), but nowhere else in the Scrolls. The most thorough discussion of the term is Goff, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 30–42 and 51–79; this discussion is condensed in his article, “The Mystery of Creation in 4QInstruction,” DSD 10 (2003): 163–86.

sapiential background of the conflicting theologies

49

texts.25 The ambiguous part of the phrase is ‫נהיה‬, a Niphal participle of the verb “to be,” which often has a future sense in the Qumran scrolls and other texts of the Second Temple period, although it can also refer to “the totality of the temporal order.”26 In 4QInstruction, not all of the uses of raz nihyeh refer to the future.27 Therefore, the translation used by Goff and Collins, “the mystery that is to be,” is preferable to Strugnell and Harrington’s “the mystery that is to come” because it better captures the temporal indefiniteness of the phrase.28 Harrington once suggested that raz nihyeh refers to a body of teaching distinct from the Torah,29 but in some contexts in 4QInstruction it appears to be a less concrete entity, analogous in some way to the concept of transcendent wisdom. Lange claims that the raz nihyeh is the “pre-existent, hidden, sapiential order of the world,” revealed preeminently in the Torah, and hence equivalent to the figure of Wisdom in Sirach and Baruch.30 While both Elgvin and Goff refute Lange’s association of the raz nihyeh with the Torah, they affirm its relationship to the order of creation. Elgvin argues that “raz nihyeh is a comprehensive word for God’s mysterious plan for creation and history, his plan for man and for redemption of the elect. It is ‘salvation history’ in a wider meaning.”31 While the first part of the definition can be affirmed, the qualification of “salvation history” with “in a wider meaning” needs to Strugnell and Harrington, DJD 34, 28–29. Goff, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 54–58. 27 Collins, Jewish Wisdom, 121–22. In 4QInstruction, raz nihyeh occurs most often with verbs of contemplating (‫הבט‬/‫דרושׁ‬/‫)הגה‬, and six times God is said to “reveal” (‫ )גלה‬it. 28 Goff, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 34, 54–61. Goff is surely right that “4QInstruction accords with the tendency in late Second Temple sources to employ ‫ היה‬in the Niphal to refer to the total temporal order” (ibid., 58), but one could question whether he is right to follow Elgvin in seeing a “tripartite division of time” in 4Q417 1 i 3–4 and 4Q418 123 ii 3–4. These passages could just as well be read as reflecting a bipartite division of time, which Goff notes is much more common in Second Temple literature—no doubt because Hebrew conceives of time in two aspects, perfect and imperfect. Thus ‫ נהיה‬encompasses both “things that have come to pass and those that are coming to pass (in this context, especially things in the future),” according to Menahem Kister, “Wisdom Literature and its Relation to Other Genres: From Ben Sira to Mysteries,” in Sapiential Perspectives (ed. Collins, Sterling and Clements), 13–47 (here 31). 29 Harrington, Wisdom Texts from Qumran, 49. 30 Lange, “Wisdom and Predestination in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” DSD 2 (1995): 343; idem, Weisheit und Prädestination, 60, 89–91. 31 Torleif Elgvin, “The Mystery to Come: Early Essene Theology of Revelation,” in Qumran Between the Old and New Testaments (ed. F. H. Cryer and T. L. Thompson; JSOTSup 290; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1998), 113–50 (here, 134–35); cf. idem, Analysis of 4QInstruction, 80. 25 26

50

chapter two

be underscored, since 4QInstruction makes scarcely any mention of the persons or events of Israel’s history.32 Elgvin also claims (contra Lange) that in 4QInstruction “true wisdom is not found in the Torah but in raz nihyeh.”33 Goff rightly objects that 4QInstruction clearly views the Torah as a source of wisdom (if not the only one), since it contains a number of allusions to specific passages from the Torah (most often Genesis 1–3, but also Leviticus 26 and Numbers 15, 18 and 30).34 Closer to Elgvin than to Lange, however, Goff emphasizes the esoteric nature of the raz nihyeh: the structure of creation and the divine plan of history is “a revealed mystery given to the elect.”35 The emphasis on revealed knowledge in 4QInstruction stands in some tension with a more traditionally sapiential creation theology, which assumes that the inherent order of the world should be apparent to everyone. On the one hand, God is said in 4Q417 1 i 8–9 to have created the world “by means of the mystery that is to be” (‫)ברז נהיה‬, whereas he is said to have created the world “by wisdom” (‫)בחכמה‬ in Prov 3:19. Goff, mediating between the views of Lange and Elgvin, sees in this passage both continuity with the creation theology of Proverbs and a shift in epistemology: although the world is orderly, ordinary human observation cannot grasp the nature of that order; it is a revealed mystery.36 On the other hand, there are passages that imply that all human beings should be capable of perceiving that the world is divinely ordered. Most scholars believe the beginning of 4QInstruction is represented by 4Q416 1, a fragment that “speaks first about God’s orderly rule over the cosmos—the heavenly hosts and the luminaries (lines 1–10), and

32 Strugnell and Harrington, DJD 34, 30. An exception is the mention of the “judgment of Korah” in 4Q423 5 1–4. Cana Werman also emphasizes the historical dimension of the raz nihyeh, but without using the somewhat misleading term “salvation history.” See her essay, “What is the Book of Hagu?” in Sapiential Perspectives (ed. Collins, Sterling and Clements), 125–40. 33 Elgvin, “Wisdom and Apocalypticism,” 237. 34 Goff, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 69–73. 35 Goff, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 66. Goff contrasts this view with that of Proverbs, which assumes that “everyone can understand the structure of creation.” Leo G. Perdue offers an intriguing reading of Eccl 3:11 as reacting against claims like those of 4QInstruction and 1Q/4Q Mysteries, that some human beings possess knowledge (through revelation) of “the past, present and future actions of God, the nature of creation, or what he has determined.” See his essay “Wisdom and Apocalyptic: The Case of Qoheleth” in Wisdom and Apocalypticism (ed. García Martínez), 231–58 (here, 254–55). 36 Goff, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 61–66; idem, “The Mystery of Creation.”

sapiential background of the conflicting theologies

51

then about His rewarding the righteous and punishing the wicked at the judgement (lines 10–11), and about the response of all creation to that judgement (lines 12–14).”37 The connection between the discussion of the “heavenly hosts and the luminaries” and the final judgment in 4Q416 1 is not made explicit, but Tigchelaar has argued that the luminaries exemplify “the orderly course of creation,” which is maintained by virtue of their obedience to God’s decrees and their adherence to their assigned tasks.38 As Tigchelaar reconstructs it, 4QInstruction began with an exhortation to observe the order of creation as an illustration of the importance of obedience and fulfilling one’s assigned tasks; the judgment scene that follows provides the motivation for doing so.39 If Tigchelaar’s reconstruction and interpretation are correct, the beginning of 4QInstruction is remarkably similar to 1 Enoch 1–5, except that the order of the judgment scene (1 Enoch 1) and the examples of the natural order (1 Enoch 2–5) is reversed. Another fragment dealing with the final judgment, 4Q418 69 ii, also seems to begin with a reference to the orderly course of nature: “Do not walk in faithfulness all their [waters] and in knowledge all their waves?” (4Q418 69 ii 3–4).40 Thus, while it is true that the epistemology of 4QInstruction, with its frequent allusions to the raz nihyeh, is quite different from that of the biblical wisdom literature, and more similar to apocalyptic epistemology,41 one should not overlook the vestiges of an observation-based epistemology in it. There is another example of an argument from the natural order in 4Q416 2 iii 15–19, which presents a series of reasons why one should honor one’s father and mother (not including the fact that this is a commandment of the Decalogue!). The first reason given is, “For as God is to a man, so is his own father; And as the Lord is to Strugnell and Harrington, DJD 34, 8. Eibert J. C. Tigchelaar, “Towards a Reconstruction of the Beginning of 4Qinstruction (4Q416 Fragment 1 and Parallels)” in Wisdom Texts from Qumran (ed. Hempel, Lange and Lichtenberger), 99–126; idem, To Increase Learning, 175–93. 39 Tigchelaar, “Towards a Reconstruction,” 126. 40 Translation of Tigchelaar, To Increase Learning, 210; see his interpretation on p. 222. 41 Cf. Goff, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 42–51. In a recent essay, Goff ’s position is more nuanced: “Knowledge is acquired in 4QInstruction not merely through the bestowal of the raz nihyeh itself but from continued reflection on it once it has been revealed. . . . The acquisition of wisdom through the study of revealed knowledge reflects a combination of ideas from the sapiential and apocalyptic traditions.” See his essay, “Wisdom, Apocalypticism and the Pedagogical Ethos of 4QInstruction,” in Conflicted Boundaries in Wisdom and Apocalypticism (ed. B. G. Wright III and L. M. Wills; SBLSymS 35; Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2005), 57–67 (here 65). 37 38

52

chapter two

a person, so is his mother; For they are the womb that was pregnant with thee” (4Q416 2 iii 16–17).42 Although the passage goes on to say that the obligation to honor one’s parents was revealed to the addressee “through the mystery that is to be,” this passage is not only “a good example of 4QInstruction grounding practical wisdom in an appeal to revelation.”43 It also grounds a commandment of the Decalogue in an appeal to the natural order: honor your parents as you do God because they (with God’s help) gave you life (cf. Sir 7:27–28).44 2.2

Election and Determinism

The belief that the raz nihyeh has been revealed to the elect has practical implications for the implied addressee of 4QInstruction.45 The import of the raz nihyeh is primarily ethical and eschatological: the addressee is expected to live his life in accordance with his knowledge of the predetermined course of history (culminating in the final judgment) and his place within it.46 For example, 4Q417 1 i 6–9: [Day and night meditate upon the mystery that is] to be. Inquire constantly. Then you will know truth and iniquity, wisdom and [foll]y you will [recognize] . . . Then you will distinguish between [goo]d and [evil according to their] works, for the God of Knowledge is a foundation of truth. By means of the mystery that is to be he has laid out its foundation and its works. . . .47

A little further on in the same fragment, we learn that raz nihyeh enables the elect to “know [the paths of ] everyone that lives, and the manner of his walking that is appointed for his deeds . . .” (4Q417 1 i 18–19). The concept of raz nihyeh thus implies a deterministic worldview, which

42 Strugnell and Harrington, DJD 34, 110–13; see the discussion of Goff, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 73–76. 43 Goff, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 76. 44 On this passage as an interpretation of the fifth commandment, see James L. Kugel, “Some Instances of Biblical Interpretation in the Hymns and Wisdom Writings of Qumran,” in Studies in Ancient Midrash (ed. J. L. Kugel; Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Center for Jewish Studies, 2001), 166–67. 45 “Implied addressee” refers to the imaginary individual implied by the second person masculine singular address of most of the fragments and sometimes addressed as ‫“( מבין‬understanding one;” e.g., 4Q417 1 i 1, 14, 18). The social status of the actual addressees is a matter of debate: see Eibert J. C. Tigchelaar, “The Addressees of 4QInstruction,” in Sapiential, Liturgical and Poetical Texts (ed. Falk, Martínez and Schuller), 62–75; Goff, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 140–67; and see note 49 below. 46 Harrington, “Wisdom and Apocalyptic in 4QInstruction and 4 Ezra,” 345–6. 47 Translation of Goff, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 62.

sapiential background of the conflicting theologies

53

is reinforced by the frequently repeated term ‫“( נחלה‬inheritance” or “lot”).48 For example, 4Q417 1 i 24 says of the evildoer, “according to his inheritance in it he shall be tr[eated as wicked],” while the elect addressee is told that God “is your portion and your inheritance among the sons of Adam, [and over] his [in]heritance he has set you in authority” (4Q418 81 3).49 As the latter quotation illustrates, 4QInstruction uses the language of election to set the implied addressee apart from the mass of humanity, rather than to contrast Israel with the other nations.50 The terms used to contrast the elect and non-elect are primarily moral and intellectual. In 4Q418 69, for example, “the truly chosen ones” (or “the elect of truth,” l. 10) are called “those who investigate the truth” (l. 7) and “who pursue [righteousness,] who se[ek eagerly for understanding, and who] keep vigil over all knowledge,” (ll. 10–11). Those who are condemned to the pit are addressed as “you foolish-minded ones” (l. 4) and are also called “children of iniquity” (l. 8). This moral-intellectual dualism of 4QInstruction is a point of continuity with the biblical wisdom literature, which tends to contrast in black-and-white terms the wise and the foolish, the righteous and the wicked—and to assume that wisdom is synonymous with righteousness, folly with wickedness. Of course, what is meant by “wisdom” in 4QInstruction is quite different from any of its meanings in Proverbs, Job and Ecclesiastes. A pedagogical process is still necessary to the acquisition of wisdom, but 4QInstruction begins with the assumption that the addressee is one of the elect to whom mysterious knowledge has been revealed.

48

239.

Strugnell and Harrington, DJD 34, 28, 30; Tigchelaar, To Increase Understanding,

49 4Q418 81 3 alludes to Num 18:20, where God is said to be the Aaronites’ “portion and inheritance among the Israelites.” Despite the fact that 4Q418 81 has “among the sons of Adam” in place of “among the sons of Israel,” some scholars have argued that in this passage at least, the actual addressees must be priests. See Armin Lange, “The Determination of Fate by the Oracle of the Lot in the Dead Sea Scrolls, the Hebrew Bible and Ancient Mesopotamian Literature,” in Sapiential, Liturgical and Poetical Texts (ed. Falk, Martínez and Schuller), 39–48 (here 40); Crispin H. T. Fletcher-Louis, All the Glory of Adam: Liturgical Anthropology in the Dead Sea Scrolls (STDJ 42; Leiden: Brill, 2002), 176–87. Given that the elect’s status is not contrasted with that of other Israelites, and in light of the general lack of interest in priestly concerns in 4QInstruction, it makes more sense to read this line as a reinterpretation of Num 18:20 to support the claim to elect status. For this view, see Elgvin, “Analysis of 4QInstruction,” 117; idem, “Wisdom and Apocalypticism,” 245, and Goff, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 68–69. 50 In fact, the term “Israel” is not attested in the extant fragments, and ‫ עם‬is rare, according to Strugnell and Harrington, DJD 34, 25.

54

chapter two

While 4QInstruction shows no interest in the election of Israel as a whole, it has been suggested that the community that produced it may have considered itself the faithful remnant of Israel. Elgvin bases his argument that the addressees of 4QInstruction saw themselves as a “remnant community” on one passage, 4Q418 81 1–14, which shares a number of terms for election with the sectarian scrolls: “men of [God’s] favor” (l. 10), “an eternal plant(ing)” (l. 13) and “those who inherit the land” (l. 14).51 While the latter two phrases recall promises to Israel in Trito-Isaiah (Isa 60:21, 61:3), they do not necessarily point to the concept of a remnant, and the first certainly does not.52 The fact that these phrases were used by some groups in Second Temple Judaism (including the Qumran sectarians) that identified themselves as the faithful remnant of Israel does not prove that they have the same connotation in 4QInstruction.53 Moreover, at the beginning of the same passage, the addressee is told that God ‫הבדילכה מכול רוח בשׂר‬ (“separated thee from every fleshly spirit,” 4Q418 81 1–2) and that He is “thy portion and thy inheritance among the children of mankind,” (4Q418 3) rather than “among the children of Israel,” as in the address to the Aaronites in Num 18:30 (see note 49 above).54 This apparent universalizing and hence reinterpretation of the language of priestly election also tells against a “remnant” interpretation of the phrases in 4Q418 81 13–14. 2.3

Anthropology and Interpretation of Genesis 1–3

A contrast between the elect addressee and the ‫“( רוח בשׂר‬spirit of flesh” or “fleshly spirit”) is also found in the controversial passage that alludes to a “book of remembrance” (‫ )ספר זכרון‬and the “vision of

Elgvin, “Analysis of 4QInstruction,” 123–40. In fact, the addressee is distinguished from the “men of [God’s] favor”: “and it is in thy charge/power to turn away anger from the men of (His/thy) good pleasure” (4Q418 81 10 in Strugnell and Harrington, DJD 34, 303). On the diverse uses of the metaphor of an “eternal planting” in Second Temple texts, see Patrick A. Tiller, “The ‘Eternal Planting’ in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” DSD 4 (1997): 312–35. 53 This is the view of Tigchelaar, To Increase Learning, 235; cf. Strugnell and Harrington, DJD 34, 308–9; Goff, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 225. 54 Tigchelaar (To Increase Learning, 232) interprets lines 1–2 in light of line 3, pointing out that the verb ‫ הבדיל‬is used for the separation of the Levites from the Israelites in Num 8:14 and 16:9; cf. Deut 10:8–9. 51 52

sapiential background of the conflicting theologies

55

Hagu” (‫)חזון ההגוי‬, 4Q417 1 i 13–18.55 Goff ’s translation of 4Q417 1 i 13–18 reads as follows: And you, 14understanding one, inherit your reward by remembering the mi[ght, because] it is coming. Engraved is the statute, and ordained is all the punishment, 15because engraved is that which has been ordained by God against all the ini[quities of ] the sons of Sheth. The book of remembrance is written before him 16for those who keep his word—that is, the vision of Hagu for the book of remembrance. He bequeathed it to ‫ אנושׁ‬together with a spiritual people, be[cau]se 17he fashioned him according to the likeness of the holy ones. Moreover, he did not give Hagu to the fleshly spirit because it did not distinguish between 18[go]od and evil according to the judgment of its [sp]irit.

This passage first attracted scholarly attention because of the light it might shed on the identity of the mysterious “Book of Hagu” (or Hagi) mentioned in 1QSa 1:7 and CD 10:6 and 13:2.56 While there is likely some relationship between the “vision of Hagu” (or “vision of meditation”) and the “Book of Hagu,” this passage reveals little about either one, except that they are probably not identical, since the “vision of Hagu” seems to be an abstract entity, akin to the raz nihyeh, rather than a book.57 On the other hand, the “vision of Hagu” is closely connected to the “book of remembrance,” an allusion to Mal 3:16. The phrase ‫ לשׁמרי דברו‬in 4Q417 1 i 16 is presumably a paraphrase of ‫ ליראי יהוה ולחשׁבי שׁמו‬in Mal 3:16, but it is unclear whether the author of 4QInstruction understands the heavenly book to be “for those who keep his word” or of them—that is, a list of their names.58 If the engraved ordinance of lines 14–15 is to be identified with the “book of

55 Goff devotes an entire chapter of Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom (80–126) to this passage. See there, 80, note 1 for bibliography. 56 See most recently Cana Werman, “What is the Book of Hagu?” in Sapiential Perspectives (ed. Collins, Sterling and Clements), 125–40. Lange was the first scholar to offer an interpretation of this passage, in Weisheit und Prädestination, 66–92. His interpretation, that the “vision of Hagu” is a heavenly prototype of the Torah that was revealed to the antediluvian patriarch Enosh, has not won widespread acceptance. 57 Goff, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 83, 89. Werman (“What is the Book of Hagu?,” 140) thinks that at the time 4QInstruction was written, there was not yet a “Book of Hagu.” 58 Elgvin notes the ambiguity in “The Mystery to Come,” 141, note 70. He does not observe, however, that Mal 3:16 is similarly ambiguous. In “Analysis of 4QInstruction,” 86–87, he identifies the “Book of Memory, which in this text is equated with the heavenly Book of Hagi” as “a heavenly record of the names of the righteous,” but at the same time he maintains that it is identical with the “engraved decree,” which clearly pertains to the divine plan for the punishment of the wicked.

56

chapter two

remembrance,” it may be that line 16 aims to clarify that the heavenly “book of remembrance” contains not only the names of the righteous, but the more comprehensive “vision of Hagu,” which includes the divine plan for punishing the wicked. While the content of the “vision of Hagu” itself remains a mystery, the passage does reveal something about the anthropology of 4QInstruction. What exactly it reveals remains a matter of debate; much hangs on the translation of the terms ‫ בני שׁית‬and ‫אנושׁ‬. Lange’s interpretation of the passage as contrasting the primeval patriarch Enosh with the other “sons of Seth” does not have any parallel in Second Temple sources nor does it account for the implication that the punishment of the ‫ בני שׁית‬is still to come.59 Thus, it is preferable to translate the phrase “sons of Sheth,” understanding it as an allusion to Balaam’s oracle (Num 24:17), interpreted eschatologically to refer to the judgment of the wicked.60 The expression “sons of Sheth” should be understood as an alternative designation for the “fleshly spirit” mentioned in the following line (4Q417 1 i 17) and elsewhere contrasted with the elect addressee (e.g., 4Q418 81 1–2). Elgvin is surely correct that ‫ אנושׁ‬should be understood as referring not to Enosh but to “mankind” here, since that is its regular meaning in the Qumran scrolls and elsewhere in 4QInstruction (cf. 4Q418 55 11 and 4Q418 77 3).61 On the other hand, as Collins points out, it cannot simply refer to humanity in general, since the “vision of Hagu” is given to ‫( אנושׁ‬which is associated with but not identical to “a spiritual people,” ‫)עם רוח‬, but not to the “fleshly spirit.”62 Moreover, in 4Q418 81 1–3, the elect are set apart from humanity in general (‫ )בני אדם‬as

59 See Lange, Weisheit und Prädestination, 87–88. The interpretation relating to Enosh and his generation is also preferred by Jörg Frey, “Flesh and Spirit in the Palestinian Jewish Sapiential Tradition and in the Qumran Texts: An Inquiry into the Background of Pauline Usage,” in Wisdom Texts from Qumran (ed. Hempel, Lange and Lichtenberger), 393. 60 Harrington, Wisdom Texts from Qumran, 55; John J. Collins, “In the Likeness of the Holy Ones,” in The Provo International Conference on the Dead Sea Scrolls: Technological Innovations, New Texts and Reformulated Issues (ed. D. W. Parry and E. Ulrich; STDJ 30; Leiden: Brill, 1999), 611–12; Goff, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 89–92. Elgvin (“Analysis of 4QInstruction,” 84, 88) translates “sons of perdition,” understanding ‫ שׁית‬as equivalent to ‫ שׁאת‬in Lam 3:47, but at the same time he sees an allusion to Num 24:17 (interpreted via Lam 3:47). On the eschatological interpretation of Balaam’s oracle, see John J. Collins, The Scepter and the Star: The Messiahs of the Dead Sea Scrolls and Other Ancient Literature (ABRL; New York: Doubleday, 1995), 63–67. 61 Elgvin, Analysis of 4QInstruction, 88. 62 Collins, “In the Likeness of the Holy Ones,” 610.

sapiential background of the conflicting theologies

57

well as from the “every fleshly spirit.” Therefore, Collins is probably right that ‫ אנושׁ‬here refers to mankind in the context of creation, as in the Treatise on the Two Spirits, ‫( והואה ברא אנושׁ לממשׁלת תבל‬1QS 3:17–18). Granted, it is somewhat counterintuitive to claim that the author of this passage would have chosen the term ‫ אנושׁ‬to refer to “Adam, the original human being created by God”—that is, Adam as a proper name for the first man.63 In Gen 1:26–27, however, ‫ אדם‬is used in a generic or collective sense, in contrast to the individual first human being in the J creation narrative (although even there it does not function as a proper name, since it appears in every case with the definite article).64 In the literature of Second Temple Judaism, ‫אדם‬ remains an ambiguous term, sometimes referring to humankind generically, and at other times to the first man, Adam.65 It may be that the author of 4QInstruction chose the term ‫ אנושׁ‬to point to the creation of humankind collectively in Gen 1:26–28, as opposed to the creation of the individual man in Gen 2:7.66 Collins argues that 4Q417 1 i 13–18 reflects a “double creation” interpretation of Genesis 1–3, one that roots a dualistic anthropology in the two different accounts of the creation of humankind in Genesis.67 The notion of a “double creation” of humankind was known to Philo of Alexandria, who distinguishes between the “heavenly man” created in the image of God in Gen 1:26–27, and the “earthly man,” formed from the dust of the earth in Gen 2:7 (LA 1.31–32).68 Paul almost

This is how Collins understands the reference to ‫ אנושׁ‬in 1QS 3:17–18 (“In the Likeness of the Holy Ones,” 612), and likewise in 4Q417 1 i 16 (ibid., 617). Goff (Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 96) pushes this interpretation to its logical conclusion by translating 1QS 3:17–18 “He created Adam (‫ )אנושׁ‬to rule the world.” 64 The plural verb ‫ וירדו‬in Gen 1:26 suggests that ‫ אדם‬is grammatically a collective noun, but later interpreters understood it generically. For example, Philo points out that the ἄνθρωπος created in Genesis 1 is a γένος while Gen 2:7 refers to an individual man (Op. 134–35). 65 In Sirach, for example, ‫ אדם‬nearly always has a generic sense, even in the context of creation (e.g., 15:14, 33:10); the only verse in which it definitely refers to the individual Adam is 49:16. See John R. Levison, Portraits of Adam in Early Judaism From Sirach to 2 Baruch ( JSPSup 1; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1988), 33–48. 66 It is clear that 1QS 3:17–18 has Gen 1:26 in mind, since ‫ לממשׁלת תבל‬is a paraphrase of ‫ וירדו‬etc. 67 Collins, “In the Likeness of the Holy Ones,” 615–18; idem, Jewish Wisdom, 124–25. 68 In fact, Philo used the “double creation” interpretation in several of his works to support a number of different distinctions: a Platonic one between the ideal and material worlds; an anthropological one between the immortal mind and the mortal body; and an ethical one, between two ways of life, according to the heavenly mind or 63

58

chapter two

certainly alludes to (and reverses) this interpretation of Genesis 1–3 in his discussion of the “spiritual body” in 1 Cor 15:35–49, in which he refers to the “man of dust” and the “man of heaven.”69 In 4Q 417 1 i 16–18, a “double creation” interpretation is suggested by the fact that ‫ אנושׁ‬is associated with a “spiritual people” and is said to have been fashioned ‫כתבנית קדושׁים‬, a phrase which Collins understands as a paraphrase of ‫ בצלם אלהים‬in Gen 1:27, “taking ‫ אלהים‬in the angelic sense.”70 This interpretation is supported by the fact that the elect are promised a glorious afterlife “in the council of the divine beings” (‫בסוד‬ ‫ )אילים‬in 4Q418 69 ii 15 (and cf 4Q418 81 4–5). The ‫רוח בשׂר‬, to whom Hagu was not given, may possibly be a paraphrase of ‫נפשׁ חיה‬ in Gen 2:7.71 A more certain allusion to Genesis 2–3 is the statement that the ‫“ רוח בשׂר‬did not distinguish between good and evil according to its spirit” (4Q417 1 i 17–18). The “double creation” interpretation of this passage implies that according to 4QInstruction, there are two kinds of human beings, the “spiritual people” to whom Hagu was revealed, and the “spirit of flesh” that fails to distinguish between good and evil, as did the earthly Adam in Genesis 3. The anthropological dualism of the Treatise on the Two Spirits is thus present in embryonic form in 4QInstruction, where it is justified by reference to a double-creation exegesis of Genesis 1–3, according to Collins and Goff. Elgvin argues against Collins’s interpretation of the passage, on the grounds that ‫( כתבנית קדושׁים יצרו‬4Q417 1 i 17) conflates a probable allusion to Gen 1:26–27 (so Collins) with the verb used for the fashioning of the human being in Gen 2:7.72 The criticism is telling, but perhaps not decisive, given the “loose” nature of the allusions to Genesis 1–3 in the passage. On the other hand, 4Q423 1–2 (which is generally agreed to be part of 4QInstruction), is apparently inconsistent with the “double creation” interpretation of Genesis 1–3. Elgvin’s translation in DJD 34 of this quite fragmentary text is as follows:

according to the earthly body. See Levison, Portraits of Adam, 63–88; Thomas H. Tobin, The Creation of Man: Philo and the History of Interpretation (CBQMS 14; Washington, D.C.: Catholic Biblical Association, 1983), 108–34. 69 Gregory Sterling, “Wisdom among the Perfect: Creation Traditions in Alexandrian Judaism and Corinthian Christianity,” NovT 37 (1995): 364–76. 70 Collins, “In the Likeness of the Holy Ones,” 615. 71 Goff (Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 98–99) connects the two phrases via Gen 9:16, which refers to the everlasting covenant between God and ‫כל־נפשׁ חיה בכל־בשׂר‬. 72 Elgvin, “Analysis of 4QInstruction,” 90–91.

sapiential background of the conflicting theologies

59

[ ] and every fruit that is produced and every tree which is good, pleasing to give knowledge. Is [it] not a ga[rden of pastu]re 2[and pleasant] to [gi]ve great knowledge? He set you in charge of it to till it and guard it. An [enjoya]ble g[arden] 3[ the earth,] thorns and thistles will it sprout forth for you, and its strength it will not yield to you, [ ] 4[ ] in your being unfaithful [ ] 5[ ] her child, and all the compassion of her that is pregna[nt ] you [. . .]ed all your resources 6[ ] in all your business, for everything it causes to sprout [forth for you] always not to 7[ ] and in a planting [ ] them [ rejecting] the evil and knowing the good, 8[ be]tween his way and the way of. . . . 1

The fact that this passage contains numerous allusions to Genesis 2–3, yet is addressed to “you” (sg.) like most of 4QInstruction, suggests that the community of the elect identified with Adam in the Garden of Eden, who according to the double-creation interpretation of 4Q417 1 i 16–18 is equated with the “fleshly spirit.” In 4Q423 1–2 2, there is another example of a synthetic reading of Genesis 1 and 2: while the words “to till it and to guard it” (‫ )לעבדה ולשׁמרה‬allude to Gen 2:15, the verb ‫“( המשׁילכה‬He set you in charge”) alludes to the dominion of human beings over the rest of creation as in Gen 1:26–28 (cf. Ps 8:7, which substitutes ‫ המשׁיל‬for the verb ‫ רדה‬used in Gen 1:26, 28).73 It may be unreasonable to expect that 4QInstruction would apply the double-creation interpretation consistently, given that it was a minority view in Second Temple Judaism and, moreover, at odds with common experience. The Treatise on the Two Spirits is similarly inconsistent in maintaining that the two Spirits govern two different types of people, since it also acknowledges that the two Spirits are at war in the human heart (1QS 4:23). Moreover, 4Q423 1–2 does not lend support to Elgvin’s interpretation of 4Q417 1 i 13–18, which assumes that the contrast between ‫אנושׁ‬ and the ‫ רוח בשׂר‬corresponds to Adam before and after his fall.74 On the contrary, 4Q423 1–2 identifies the addressee’s experience with that of Adam both in the Garden of Eden (ll. 1–2) and after his expulsion

73 Elgvin’s note in Strugnell and Harrington, DJD 34, 509. Goff cites several parallels for this verbal substitution in Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 101–2; see further Esther G. Chazon, “The Creation and Fall of Adam in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in The Book of Genesis in Jewish and Christian Interpretation: A Collection of Essays (ed. J. Frishman and L. Van Rompay; Leuven: Peeters, 1997), 13–23. Tigchelaar (“Eden and Paradise,” 56) thinks that the use of ‫ המשׁיל‬here is possibly influenced by Ps 8:7, but he points out that this verb is used very frequently in 4QInstruction. 74 “Analysis of 4QInstruction,” 91. As Goff points out (Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 99), 4QInstruction nowhere alludes to Adam’s sin or to a fall of humankind.

60

chapter two

(‫ קוץ ודרדר תצמיח לכה‬in l. 3; cf. Gen 3:18). The lines that follow, although fragmentary, could refer to the addressee’s experience of labor (particularly farming) in the present world; it is in this context that the addressee is described as “[rejecting (?)] the evil and knowing the good” (l. 7) and (probably) choosing between two ways (l. 8). Elgvin reads these last two lines as returning to the Edenic context of the first two lines; in keeping with his view that 4QInstruction presents a “realized eschatology,” he concludes that “knowledge of good and evil is a gift to the community of the end-time.”75 Yet knowledge of good and evil is not a gift that the elect can take for granted; on the contrary, it can be obtained only through vigilant contemplation of the ‫( רז נהיה‬4Q417 1 i 6–8). On the one hand, 4QInstruction has a dualistic and deterministic anthropology in the sense that God has separated the addressees from the “fleshly spirit” (4Q418 81 1–2) by giving them special revelation (Hagu and the ‫ )רז נהיה‬and a share in the lot of the angels (4Q418 81 4–5).76 On the other hand, the addressees are not assumed to be immune to the temptations and vicissitudes that beset the “fleshly spirit”—hence the continual exhortation to moral behavior and contemplation of the ‫רז נהיה‬. They must strive constantly to live like the “spiritual people” created “in the likeness of the holy ones.” As Goff wryly observes in reference to 4Q423 1–2, “[t]he way of life advocated by 4QInstruction requires a great deal of effort.”77 2.4

Divine Justice and Mercy

Theodicy does not appear to have been a major topic of reflection in 4QInstruction. On the other hand, a concern to establish God’s justice underlies many of the eschatological discourses, with their vague references to the “periods” of history and their focus on the final judgment.78 For example, the comment ‫“( כי אל אמת הוא‬for he is a God of fidelity/truth”) in 4Q416 1 14 follows the description of the final judgment

Elgvin, “Analysis of 4QInstruction,” 72; see further, 73–75. On the relationship of the addressees to the angels, see Goff, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 104–15. 77 Goff, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 102. 78 Although the term ‫“( קץ‬period”) occurs frequently in 4QInstruction, there is no reckoning of the number or length of the periods of history, as for example in Daniel 9 or the Apocalypse of Weeks. See Goff, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 189–97. Instead the focus remains on the final judgment as the culmination of history. 75 76

sapiential background of the conflicting theologies

61

in 4Q416 1 10–13, implying that trust in God will be vindicated on that day. Moreover, the justice of God is implied in the notion that the judgment will be universal (e.g., 4Q423 5 4; 4Q418 77 3).79 Apart from a couple of passing references to God’s “great compassion,” apparently toward the addressee (4Q417 1 ii 8 and 4Q416 3 4), God’s mercy does not appear to have been a major theme in 4QInstruction. On the other hand, in 4Q417 2 i 14–16, the belief that no one is without sin leads to a reassurance that God will show forgiveness (‫ )סליחה‬to the addressee in the final judgment: And do not overlook thy own [si]ns. Be like a humble man when thou contendest for a judgment . . . 15thou shalt take. And then God will be seen, and His anger will abate, and He will overlook thy sins. [Fo]r before [His anger] 16none will stand, And who will be declared righteous when he gives judgment? And without forgiveness [h]ow [can any poor man stand before Him?] 14

As the above passage reveals, both God’s justice and his mercy are assumed to be operative in the final judgment, which is the focus of the eschatology of 4QInstruction. 2.5

Eschatology: The Final Judgment and Salvation of the Righteous

Elgvin devotes a section of his article (and his dissertation chapter) on the eschatology of 4QInstruction to “realized eschatology,” which is how he describes the elect community’s sense of their superior knowledge of God’s mysteries in the present.80 Knowing eschatological secrets is not equivalent to living through eschatological events, however, and the examples Elgvin cites all have to do with foreknowledge, not present experience, of salvation. Goff has rightly challenged the notion of a realized eschatology in 4QInstruction on the grounds that the eschatological salvation of the addressee is nowhere guaranteed, but rather is contingent on his ethical conduct.81 As Elgvin himself recognizes, “the discourses of 4QInstruction look forward to a day of divine intervention in heaven and on earth (but there are no unambiguous

Goff, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 204. Elgvin, “Early Essene Eschatology: Judgment and Salvation according to Sapiential Work A,” in Current Research and Technological Development on the Dead Sea Scrolls: Conference on the Texts from the Judean Desert, Jerusalem, 30 April 1995 (ed. D. W. Parry and S. D. Ricks; STDJ 20; Leiden: Brill, 1996), 144–45; idem, “Analysis of 4QInstruction,” 117–18. 81 Goff, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 170–71. 79 80

62

chapter two

signs of a tense Naherwartung).”82 Throughout 4QInstruction, there is a clear contrast between the present situation of the addressee and the predicted situation after the divine visitation. For example, in 4Q417 2 i 10–12, the addressee’s present trouble and mourning is contrasted with the “eternal joy” (‫ )שׂמחת עולם‬that awaits him. The primary focus of the eschatology of 4QInstruction is the final judgment, which is presented as a universal judgment of individuals based on their ethical conduct and pursuit of wisdom.83 In contrast to the second-person singular address of most of the work, however, the passages relating to the final judgment (not surprisingly) divide humanity into two groups, so the dualism of these passages is more obvious than their individualism. The judgment is apparently conceived of as “separating” two “spirits:” the “spirit of life” (4Q418 126 8) from the “spirit of flesh” (4Q418 81 2; cf. 4Q417 1 i 17), as in the Treatise on the Two Spirits. The most extensive description of the final judgment, 4Q416 1 10–14, comes from near the beginning of the work, following a fragmentary passage on the orderly courses of the heavenly luminaries, as discussed above. The description of the judgment reads as follows, in the translation of DJD 34: From heaven He shall pronounce judgment upon the work of wickedness, but all his faithful children (‫ )כל בני אמתו‬will be accepted with favor by [Him . . .] 11the end, and they shall feel dread. And all who defiled themselves in it (sc. wickedness) shall cry out in distress. For the heavens shall fear [. . .] 12the seas and the depths fear, and every spirit of flesh will be destroyed (‫)יתערערו‬. But the sons of Heave[n] sh[all rejoice in the day] 13[when it (sc. wickedness) is ju]dged, and (when) all iniquity shall come to an end, until the epoch of tru[th] will be perfected [forever, and there will endure . . .] 14in all periods of eternity. For he is a God of fidelity. . . . 10

Like 1 Enoch 1, this scene describes a universal judgment, borrowing from biblical theophanies the motif of fear among all the works of creation.84 It is not clear from the extant text whether the earth itself will be destroyed, as in 1 Enoch 1, or only the wicked people on it (“every spirit of flesh”).85 In any case, the notion that the final judgment will Elgvin, “Analysis of 4QInstruction,” 111. Goff, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 171, 204. 84 Goff, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 179–85. 85 The major difficulty of this passage is the verb ‫יתערערו‬, which Strugnell and Harrington consider “obscure” (DJD 34, 86) and Tigchelaar (To Increase Learning, 180) suggests may be a mistake. But Goff (Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 172) has proposed 82 83

sapiential background of the conflicting theologies

63

bring an end to all iniquity and inaugurate an eternal “epoch of truth” resembles the description of the judgment in the Book of Mysteries (1Q27 1 i 5–7), the Treatise on Two Spirits (especially 1QS 4:18–19) and 4QTime of Righteousness (4Q215a).86 The designation for the righteous, ‫בני אמתו‬, recalls the similar designations “sons of truth” in the Treatise on the Two Spirits (1QS 4:6) and “sons of your truth,” several times in the Hodayot.87 Although the “spirit of flesh” is contrasted with the “sons of Heaven” in 4Q416 1 12, the latter is probably a designation for the angels, rather than for the elect (cf. 4Q418 69 ii 12–13; 1QS 4:22 and 11:8; 1QH 11:22).88 The other lengthy fragment dealing with the final judgment, 4Q418 69 ii, consists primarily of two judgment speeches in second person plural address, the first to the “foolish of heart” (ll. 4–9) and the second to the “truly chosen ones” (ll. 10–15). Elgvin has suggested that this passage may have been inspired by 1 Enoch 91 and 103–104,89 while Tigchelaar thinks the influence is more likely in the opposite direction, if there is any direct relationship between the texts.90 Although he acknowledges that some stylistic features and vocabulary of 4Q418 69 ii (and 4Q418 55) differ from the rest of 4QInstruction, Goff maintains that the eschatology of 4Q418 69 ii is entirely compatible with that of 4Q416 1 and the rest of the work. The most controversial phrase is in 4Q418 69 ii 7: [‫וכול נהיה עולם דורשׁי אמת יעורו למשׁפטכ]ם‬. Elgvin and Puech have read this as referring to the resurrection of the righteous “seekers of truth,” in Puech’s reading (following DJD 34) in order to participate in judging the wicked.91 Given that there is no other reading it as a Hithpalpel of the root ‫ערר‬, a form that occurs in Jeremiah 51:58. His translation, “will be laid bare” makes good poetic sense, given that the subject is the spirit of flesh, although in Jeremiah 51:58 the verb has the sense of “be utterly destroyed.” 86 For other parallels, see Kister, “Wisdom Literature and its Relation to Other Genres,” 35–43. 87 Goff, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 206. 88 See Tigchelaar, To Increase Learning, 197 for further instances, but see below for the questionable usage in 4Q418 69 ii 12–13. 89 Elgvin, “Analysis of 4QInstruction,” 108–11; idem, “Early Essene Eschatology,” 158. 90 Tigchelaar, To Increase Learning, 217, 224; he says this in the context of an argument (ibid., 208–24) that the second person plural address of 4Q418 69 ii and 4Q418 55 may indicate that they are earlier sources incorporated into 4QInstruction. 91 E. Puech, “Apports des Textes Apocalyptiques et Sapientiels de Qumran à l’Eschatologie du Judaïsme Ancien,” in Wisdom and Apocalypticism (ed. García Martínez), 140–41. Elgvin (“Analysis of 4QInstruction,” 116–17) reads the end of the line differently and thus translates “the seekers of truth will wake up to the judgments [of God?].” Fletcher-Louis (All the Glory of Adam, 118) also understands “all those who will

64

chapter two

evidence for a belief in resurrection in 4QInstruction or for a role for the elect in judging the wicked, it makes more sense to read this line as referring to the heavenly host (cf. 4Q416 1 7–9, and the “council of the divine ones” in 4Q418 69 ii 15) “rousing themselves” to assist God in the judgment.92 The second speech, in 4Q418 69 ii 10–15, implies that the reward of the elect will be comparable to the lot of the angels, although it does not say so explicitly: But you who are the truly chosen ones, Who pursue [righteousness,] Who se[ek eagerly for understanding, And who] keep vigil 11over all knowledge, How can you say, “We are tired of understanding, and/though we have been vigilant in pursuing knowledge”? For [the Understanding One tires not] at all ti[mes] 12Nor does He become weary in all the years of eternity. Does He not take delight in Truth forever, And does not Knowledge [forever] serve him? But as for the S[ons of ] 13Heaven, whose lot is eternal life, Will they truly say, “We are weary of doing the works of Truth, And [we] have grown weary of them 14at all times”? Will [they] not walk in light everlasting [with . . . of g]lory and abundance of splendor with them [ ] 15in the firmaments [of holiness . . . and] in the council of the divine ones is all [their . . .]. 10

The passage clearly draws a comparison via rhetorical questions between the “truly chosen ones” and the “Sons of Heaven,” suggesting that the elect are to view the behavior of the “Sons of Heaven” as a model for their own (cf. 1QS 4:22).93 Although it is natural to assume that “the Sons of Heaven” is the subject of lines 14 and 15, it is somewhat tautological to assert that angels are “in the firmaments” and “in the council of the divine ones,” and moreover the antecedent of “with them” at the end of line 14 is unclear if “Sons of Heaven” is the subject. Therefore it makes more sense to understand the subject of the last two lines to be the elect, and to understand their eschatological reward to be eternal life with the angels (cf. the promise of “glory” and “eternal joy” in 4Q417 2 i 11–12, and “eternal enjoyment with endless life, and a crown endure forever, those who investigate the truth” to refer to the elect, but he does not address the question of whether this passage refers to resurrection, choosing to see this as evidence that “the righteous possess an immortality of some sort.” 92 So Strugnell and Harrington, DJD 34, 286–7; Goff, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 176–79; cf. Tigchelaar, To Increase Learning, 211, 213; Collins, “Eschatologizing of Wisdom,” 56. 93 Strugnell and Harrington, DJD 34, 284. By contrast, Fletcher-Louis (All the Glory of Adam, 119–20) understands “sons of Heaven” to include both the angels and the elect in their eschatological state.

sapiential background of the conflicting theologies

65

of glory with majestic raiment in eternal light” in 1QS 4:7–8).94 This is consistent with the idea that the “lot” of the elect is with the divine beings (4Q418 81 4–5).95 Although 4Q418 55 is more fragmentary than 4Q418 69 ii, it also draws a connection between the angels (l. 8) and those who “pursue all the roots of understanding” (l. 9). The descriptions of the judgment imply that some form of punishment awaits the wicked, but there is no description of their torments to correspond to the promise of glory that awaits the righteous. In 4Q416 1 11, “all who defiled themselves” are said to “cry out in distress,” and in the following line it says that “every spirit of flesh” will be either destroyed or laid bare (see n. 85 above). The “trial speech” in 4Q418 69 is more graphic in its condemnation of the “foolish of heart” (l. 4): “You were fashioned [by the power of G]od, but to the everlasting pit shall your return be. For it (the pit) shall awaken [to condemn] you[r] sin, [and the creatures of ] its dark places [ ] shall cry out against your pleading” (ll. 6–7). Still, it is not clear whether the “everlasting pit” refers to a place of punishment or simply to annihilation. Similarly, in 4Q418 126, the “vengeance to the masters (workers) of iniquity” remains unspecified. This is a point of contrast with the Treatise on the Two Spirits, which dwells at length on the punishment of the “spirit of deceit” (1QS 4:12–14). The difference may imply that the circles that produced 4QInstruction were not as alienated from the society around them as were those that produced the Treatise on the Two Spirits.96 Elgvin points out some other differences between the eschatology of 4QInstruction and that of the main sectarian scrolls. Many aspects of apocalyptic eschatology are lacking in 4QInstruction: the restoration of Zion and of the twelve tribes of Israel, the Davidic messiah (or any other type of messianic figure), and the eschatological war.97 These are all motifs that are rooted in the biblical promises of the restoration

Elgvin, “Early Essene Eschatology,” 162–3. He mentions additional parallels for the image of “everlasting light” in 1QHa XII 15 (XX 15) and 1 En. 92:4. 95 Goff (Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 209) has argued that eternal life with the angels is also in view in 4Q416 2 ii 11–12, “With the nobles he has placed you, and he has given you authority over an inheritance of glory,” since he understands “nobles” (‫ )נדיבים‬to refer to angels. 96 Pace Lange, “Wisdom and Predestination,” 348, who attributes the two texts to the same circles. Goff (Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 200) contrasts 4QInstruction’s lack of concern with the punishment of the wicked with the Book of the Watchers, although he is open to the possibility that the author was familiar with the early Enochic literature (Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 188). 97 Elgvin, “Early Essene Eschatology,” 141; idem, Analysis of 4QInstruction, 112. 94

66

chapter two

of Israel, but in many apocalypses (and in the sectarian texts from Qumran) they are appropriated by a group that considers itself to be the “remnant” or the true Israel, in opposition to other Jews whom they number among the “sons of darkness” (or whatever term is used for the non-elect). Although an argument from silence cannot be conclusive, especially in the case of a fragmentary text, 4QInstruction does not appear to lay claim to the promises to Israel or to use “remnant” terminology to describe the elect ( pace Elgvin; see above, 2.2). Instead, it focuses on the welfare of the individual addressee (and his family), both in practical matters and with a view to salvation in the final judgment. In this respect it is in continuity with Proverbs, which is oriented toward the individual and the family, rather than towards Israel as a nation.98 2.6

4QInstruction in Relation to the Wisdom and Apocalyptic Traditions

Although Strugnell and Harrington are probably right that the quasicanonical status of 4QInstruction at Qumran implies a date of composition earlier than that of the sectarian documents, their conclusion that it must also be earlier than Sirach is based on the assumption of a linear development of a unitary wisdom tradition in the Second Temple period. They describe 4QInstruction as “a venerable ‘missing link’ in the development of ‘secular’ or common Israelite wisdom from Proverbs to Sirach.”99 If 4QInstruction were really a point on a line of development from Proverbs to Sirach, one would expect some acknowledgement of eschatological wisdom in Sirach. There is an eschatological prayer in Sir 36:1–22, but it lacks wisdom terminology and is mainly concerned with the triumph of Israel over its enemies.100 Similarly, if Ben Sira had been familiar with the determinism of 4QInstruction, he probably would have addressed it in his long discourse on sin and free will (15:11–18:14). He even seems to endorse a milder form of determinism in 33:10–13, which he presumably would not have done if he had been concerned with refuting the type of wisdom found in 4QInstruction.

Strugnell and Harrington, DJD 34, 25. Strugnell and Harrington, DJD 34, 36. 100 For this reason some scholars doubt that the prayer is by Ben Sira; it may have been added to the book during the time of the Maccabean revolt. See the discussion in section 3.5, below. 98 99

sapiential background of the conflicting theologies

67

It is an oversimplification to speak of “common Israelite wisdom” in the late Second Temple period, as Strugnell and Harrington recognize when they acknowledge that Ecclesiastes “is somwhat remote from the line of development” that they trace from Proverbs, through 4QInstruction, to Sirach.101 The many differences between 4QInstruction on the one hand and Sirach and Baruch on the other suggest that the use of wisdom forms did not imply a particular worldview.102 The diversity of these texts also indicates that wisdom instruction took place in a variety of social settings. Ben Sira’s “house of instruction” (51:23) was in Jerusalem (50:27); his profession as a scribe meant that he interacted with the urban elite and had the opportunity to travel (39:4). By contrast, 4QInstruction makes no reference to Jerusalem or to an urban lifestyle; its interest in farming could imply a rural setting.103 Its emphasis on the poverty of its addressee contrasts with Sirach, who generally assumes that his audience consists of persons of means (e.g., 4:1–6, 7:32–33, 14:3–19), though not the rich and powerful (cf. 13:1–26).104 Despite its formal similarity to Sirach, the worldview of 4QInstruction finds closer parallels in parts of 1 Enoch, first and foremost in the Epistle (chapters 91–105), but also in the introduction to the Book of the Watchers (chapters 1–5).105 The preponderance of wisdom language, forms and themes in 1 Enoch is widely recognized.106 The Epistle is described in the superscription as “this complete wisdom teaching” (92:1),107 and with the exception of the Apocalypse of Weeks (93:1–10 + 91:11–17), an originally independent apocalypse that was incorporated into the Epistle, it is, like 4QInstruction, primarily parenetic Strugnell and Harrington, DJD 34, 36. Collins, “Wisdom, Apocalypticism and Generic Compatibility,” 181. 103 Elgvin, Analysis of 4QInstruction, 155–56, 187–88. Some passages dealing with issues related to farming are 4Q418 172 6, 8–13; 4Q418 103 ii 2–9; 4Q423 5 5–6; 4Q423 3 1–5; 4Q423 4 (Elgvin’s numbering). 104 See Collins, Jewish Wisdom, 29–32. 105 On the parallels between 4QInstruction and these parts of 1 Enoch, see Goff, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 183–89. 106 See Randal A. Argall, 1 Enoch and Sirach: A Comparative Literary and Conceptual Analysis of the Themes of Revelation, Creation and Judgment (SBLEJL 8; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1995); James C. VanderKam, Enoch and the Growth of an Apocalyptic Tradition (CBQMS 16; Washington, D.C.: The Catholic Biblical Association of America, 1984), 119–22 (on the parenetic use of the natural order in 2:1–5:4) and 172–74 (on the sapiential features of the Epistle); Nickelsburg, 1 Enoch 1, 152–58 (on 2:1–5:4), 342–44 (on 82:1–4a) and 416–29 on the Epistle as a whole. 107 Translation of Michael A. Knibb in The Apocryphal Old Testament (ed. H. F. D. Sparks; Oxford: Clarendon, 1984). Nickelsburg translates “this complete sign of wisdom,” but notes that the primary Ethiopic text reads “this complete sign and teaching of wisdom.” 101 102

68

chapter two

rather than revelatory.108 Nevertheless, there is no evidence that it ever circulated without the Apocalypse of Weeks included, and in any case there are a number of revelatory formulas scattered throughout the Epistle, so it is generally considered an apocalypse.109 In contrast to many apocalypses, however, its eschatology, like that of 4QInstruction, is entirely focused on the final judgment. In chapter 101, there is an appeal to observe the works of divine judgment in creation, which is formally similar to 1 Enoch 2:1–5:4. As in 4QInstruction, the intended audience of the Epistle is evidently poor, but there is a good deal more emphasis on social injustices in the Epistle, and the rich are at least implicitly identified with the sinners who will be destroyed on the day of judgment (94:8–11). Like the Epistle, the introduction to the Book of the Watchers combines prophetic and wisdom forms. In a speech by Enoch that is characterized as a “parable” (1:3b),110 the final judgment is first described as a divine-warrior theophany that will take place on Mt. Sinai (1:3c–9).111 The central passage takes the form of a second-person

Specifically sapiential forms in the Epistle (according to Nickelsburg, 1 Enoch 1, 420) are the Two-Ways Instruction (91:3–4, 18–19; 94:1–6), the Beatitude (99:10), the formula “do not say” in a disputation speech (103:9, 104:7; cf. 97:7–10, 98:6–8; and cf. Sir 15:11–2, 16:17–23 and 4Q416 2 3:12–14) and the appeal to contemplate creation in chapter 101 (cf. chapters 2–5). By far the most frequent form in the Epistle is the “woe,” a form normally associated with the prophets, but transformed into a wisdom form in Sir 2:12–14 and 41:8–9 (see Argall, 1 Enoch and Sirach, 235–39; and cf. p. 210 on the suggestion by R. A. Coughenour that the woes in the Epistle are a “wisdom element”). Another passage that uses a wisdom form is the list of questions about things that are beyond the limits of human knowledge (1 Enoch 93:11–14; cf. Prov 30:4, Job 38–39, Bar 3:29–30). Here, the implication seems to be that these things have been revealed to Enoch and thus are known to those who possess the Enochic books (according to Nickelsburg, 1 Enoch 1, 452), but in 4 Ezra 4:7–8 and 5:36–37, similar questions are used by Uriel to reassert the limits of human knowledge. See Michael E. Stone, “Lists of Revealed Things in the Apocalyptic Literature,” in Magnalia Dei, The Mighty Acts of God: Essays on the Bible and Archaeology in Memory of G. Ernest Wright (ed. F. M. Cross, W. E. Lemke and P. D. Miller, Jr.; Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1976), 414–52. 109 Nickelsburg, 1 Enoch 1, 419, 425, 428. 110 Since 1:2–3 contain a number of allusions to the Balaam narrative (Numbers 22–24), “parable” is probably used in the sense that it has there, i.e., an effective speech or oracle. See VanderKam, Enoch, 114–18; cf. Nickelsburg, 1 Enoch 1, 137–39. 111 Lars Hartman has argued that the Sinai covenant is the “referential background” of 1 Enoch 1–5. See his Asking for a Meaning: A Study of 1 Enoch 1–5 (Lund: Gleerup, 1979). See also Andreas Bedenbender, Der Gott der Welt tritt auf den Sinai: Entstehung, Entwicklung und Funktionsweise der frühjüdischen Apokalyptik (Arbeiten zur neutestamentlichen Theologie und Zeitgeschichte 8; Berlin: Institut Kirche und Judentum, 2000), 215–30. Nickelsburg (1 Enoch 1, 50) points out that there is only one clear reference to the Sinai covenant in all of 1 Enoch, in the Apocalypse of Weeks (93:6), and thus he is wary of inferring 108

sapiential background of the conflicting theologies

69

address in prose (2:1–5:4), in which phenomena of nature are held up as examples of obedience to God’s decrees, in contrast to the behavior of the “wicked ones” to whom the speech is addressed (5:4).112 The closing passage (5:5–9) returns to predictions concerning the final judgment, and there “wisdom” is mentioned as an eschatological reward for the elect (5:8). In these parts of 1 Enoch as in 4QInstruction, wisdom is equated with a body of revealed knowledge that has primarily eschatological import, although it includes the entire divine plan for universal history. This knowledge is revealed only to those who consider themselves the elect and righteous, and is necessary for salvation in the final judgment, which is a major theme in the Epistle as in 4QInstruction.113 At the same time, both of these parts of 1 Enoch contain appeals to observation and reason that presuppose that anyone (even the wicked) ought to be able to infer the will of God from everyday phenomena (2:1–5:4, 101). A similar tension between appeals to reason or observation and appeals to revealed wisdom exists in 4QInstruction (see above, 2.1). The eschatology of the Epistle of Enoch and 4QInstruction is focused on the salvation of righteous individuals in the final judgment (although in the Epistle they are addressed collectively) rather than on the restoration of Israel. These texts share an expectation of fellowship with the angels as the final reward of the righteous (1 Enoch 104:4–6; cf. 4Q418 69 ii 10–15 and see section 2.5 above). There is a tension in both of these texts between anthropological determinism and the assumption that salvation is dependent on ethical behavior. The hortatory form of 4QInstruction and of parts of the Epistle (especially the two-ways instructions in 91:3–4, 18–19 and 94:1–5) implies that individuals are ultimately responsible for their own salvation. With respect to their

too much from the fact that Sinai is mentioned as the location of the judgment (1:4). It is possible, but far from certain, that this location implies that the Torah will be the basis of the final judgment, as in 4 Ezra 7:37 (1 Enoch 1, 145, note 12). 112 As Nickelsburg points out (1 Enoch 1, 129, 152–55), the theme of the obedience of nature (in implicit or explicit contrast to humanity’s disobedience) is found in a number of wisdom texts (Sir 16:24–28, 1QS 3:15–18, and T.Naph 3:2–4:1 [which may be dependent on 1 Enoch 2–5]) and prayers (1Q34bis 3 2:1–4 and Ps Sol 18:10–12), as well as in one rabbinic text (Sifre Deut 32:1, §306) that may be dependent on 1 Enoch 2–5 and 101, and a strikingly similar Christian text (1 Clement 19–20). See also Michael E. Stone, “The Parabolic Use of the Natural Order in Judaism of the Second Temple Age,” in Selected Studies in Pseudepigrapha and Apocrypha, with Special Reference to the Armenian Tradition (SVTP 9; Leiden: Brill, 1991), 457–67. 113 Elgvin, Analysis of 4QInstruction, 168.

70

chapter two

focus on human action and its consequences, 4QInstruction and the Epistle of Enoch are more similar to the biblical wisdom literature (and to Sirach) than to most apocalypses. The many differences in worldview between 4QInstruction and other wisdom texts are probably due to the influence of the type of apocalypticism reflected in 1 Enoch. Elgvin believes that the similarities point to a literary dependence of 4QInstruction upon at least the Epistle, and a general (perhaps oral) knowledge of the Book of the Watchers.114 Since the parallels between the texts are fairly general, it may make more sense to speak of a similar provenance than of literary dependence, however. Goff considers it likely that the author of 4QInstruction was familiar with 1 Enoch, given its popularity in the late Second Temple period, especially in scribal circles.115 The fact that 4QInstruction does not directly quote or allude to 1 Enoch implies that the author probably did not attribute to it the authority of Scripture. In light of the similarities between 4QInstruction and parts of 1 Enoch, why not call the type of wisdom found in 4QInstruction and the other Qumran wisdom texts “apocalyptic wisdom” rather than “eschatological wisdom”? The primary reason for choosing the latter term, it must be admitted, is that it facilitates a distinction in 4 Ezra between Uriel’s arguments in the dialogues and the apocalyptic solution that is revealed through the visions. Nevertheless, given the ambiguity of the term “apocalyptic,” calling 4QInstruction “apocalyptic wisdom” could create the mistaken impression that it is a revelatory text which, like 1 Enoch, designates its contents “wisdom.” In fact, it is formally a wisdom instruction with an eschatological orientation, as the term “eschatological wisdom” implies.116 Although 4QInstruction frequently reminds the 114 Elgvin, Analysis of 4QInstruction, 169–72. None of the parallels he cites are so specific as to require direct dependence, however. He dates 4QInstruction to the middle of the second century, and the Epistle to the first half of that century. According to Nickelsburg (1 Enoch 1, 427), however, the Epistle was composed no earlier than 160 b.c.e., and more likely in the second half of the century. Therefore, 4QInstruction would have to be dated somewhat later if Elgvin is right about the direction of influence. Elgin also allows for the possibility of an earlier date for 4QInstruction, in the first two decades of the second century, in which case the direction of the dependence would be reversed (Analysis of 4QInstruction, 188–89). 115 Goff, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 188–89. He does not think it is possible to date 4QInstruction with any certainty more precisely than sometime in the second century b.c.e. While he thinks the lack of eschatological urgency in the work excludes a date during the Maccabean crisis, he considers either an early or a late second-century dating possible (ibid., 230–31). 116 Cf. the conclusion of Harrington, “Wisdom and Apocalyptic in 4QInstruction

sapiential background of the conflicting theologies

71

addressee of the raz nihyeh, it reveals almost nothing about its content (see above, 2.1). It is equally vague about the contents of the “book of remembrance” and “vision of Hagu” alluded to in 4Q417 1 i 13–18 (see section 2.3). It also reveals nothing about the supernatural realm, and very little about the divine plan except that there will be a final judgment, resulting in an eternal reward for the righteous and (probably) some sort of punishment for the wicked. In the following chapter, the arguments of Uriel in the dialogues of 4 Ezra (which admittedly reveal more about these matters than 4QInstruction) are compared to 4QInstruction and are found to be compatible in worldview and emphasis, and strikingly similar in several respects. 3. Covenantal Wisdom: Sirach and Baruch 3:9–4:4 Around the same time that eschatological wisdom was emerging from a confluence of sapiential and apocalyptic ideas, the great tree of Jewish wisdom sent out another branch, influenced by Deuteronomic theology, which is here referred to as “covenantal wisdom.” To put it more prosaically, in the late third or early second century b.c.e., scribal sages, steeped in the study of the Torah, developed a synthesis of the old wisdom tradition (represented by Proverbs) and the covenantal theology of Deuteronomy. The book of the Wisdom of Ben Sira (Sirach or Ecclesiasticus), written around 180 b.c.e., is probably the earliest extant example of this synthesis, and the wisdom poem in Baruch 3:9–4:4 a somewhat later and more developed instance of it.117 The date of Baruch, a composite work, is in dispute, but most scholars assume that in identifying Wisdom with the Torah (Bar 4:1), the author of this wisdom poem was influenced by Ben Sira, not vice versa. 118 and 4 Ezra,” 355: “4QInstruction presents wisdom in an apocalyptic framework, whereas 4 Ezra presents apocalyptic or revealed wisdom.” This is true of 4 Ezra as a whole, but not, as the next chapter attempts to demonstrate, of the dialogues considered separately. 117 For the sake of economy, the book is hereafter referred to as “Sirach” and the author as “Ben Sira.” 118 George W. E. Nickelsburg, Jewish Literature Between the Bible and the Mishnah: A Historical and Literary Introduction (2nd ed.; Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2005), 57 (note 57), 95–97. For a review of scholarship on the dating of Baruch, see David G. Burke, The Poetry of Baruch: A Reconstruction and Analysis of the Original Hebrew Text of Baruch 3:9–5:9 (SBLSCS 10; Chico, Calif.: Society of Biblical Literature, 1982), 26–32. Burke favors a date in the Maccabean period for the wisdom poem, which he thinks is the earliest of the three parts of the book. Anthony M. Saldarini (“Book of Baruch,” in NIB), is

72

chapter two

The basis for this assumption is the highly imitative style of the poem, which draws heavily on earlier wisdom texts, especially Job 28.119 The groundwork for covenantal wisdom, however, had already been laid in the book of Deuteronomy itself. In fact, Moshe Weinfeld has argued that many of the distinctive features of Deuteronomic theology (as distinct from that of the other Pentateuchal sources) can be attributed to the influence of the wisdom tradition.120 Even though some scholars have not accepted Weinfeld’s thesis about the scribal origins of Deuteronomy,121 few would dispute his claim that there are numerous verbal and conceptual parallels between the wisdom literature and Deuteronomy.122 The most explicit reference to wisdom in Deuteronomy is Deut 4:6–8: “You must observe [these statutes and ordinances] diligently, for this will show your wisdom and discernment to the peoples, who, when they hear all these statutes, will say, ‘Surely this great nation is a wise and discerning people!’ For what other great nation has a god so near to it as the LORD our God is whenever we call to him? And what other great nation has statutes and ordinances

unwilling to assign priority to either Sirach or Baruch 3:9–4:4; he says they may have “drawn on a similar source” (6:962; cf. 6:968). 119 Carey A. Moore, Daniel, Esther and Jeremiah: The Additions (AB 44; Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1977), 303–04; Gerald T. Sheppard, “Wisdom and Torah: The Interpretation of Deuteronomy underlying Sirach 24:23” in Biblical and Near Eastern Studies: Essays in Honor of William Sanford LaSor (ed. Gary A. Tuttle; Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1978), 171–74. 120 Moshe Weinfeld, Deuteronomy and the Deuteronomic School (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1972), 244–319. This claim follows from his hypothesis that Deuteronomy was composed by scribes of the royal court in Jerusalem (ibid., 158–78). 121 His assumptions about the “wise scribes” to whom he attributes the composition of Deuteronomy were criticized, for example, by C. Brekelmans, “Wisdom Influence in Deuteronomy,” in A Song of Power and the Power of Song (ed. D. L. Christensen; Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1993), 123–34, originally published in La Sagesse de l’Ancien Testament (ed. M. Gilbert; Louvain: Louvain University Press, 1978), 28–38. On the other hand, the acceptance of Weinfeld’s thesis has been the basis of some very fruitful studies of Deuteronomy as an exegetical work. For example, see Michael Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation in Ancient Israel (Oxford: Clarendon, 1985), 35 (reference to Weinfeld) and especially 163–230; Bernard M. Levinson, Deuteronomy and the Hermeneutics of Legal Innovation (New York: Oxford University Press, 1997). An interesting literary reading of Deuteronomy that assumes its scribal background is Jean-Pierre Sonnet, The Book Within the Book: Writing in Deuteronomy (Leiden: Brill, 1997). 122 More recently, Weinfeld has re-stated his case in terms of “affinities” between Deuteronomy and the wisdom literature, rather than influence of the latter on the former. See Moshe Weinfeld, Deuteronomy 1–11: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (AB 5; New York: Doubleday, 1991), 62–65 and his entry on Deuteronomy in ABD 2:181–82 (section L). In those treatments, he focuses on the laws in Deuteronomy that have no parallels in the Tetrateuch but do find parallels in the wisdom literature.

sapiential background of the conflicting theologies

73

as just as this entire law that I am setting before you today?” This passage belongs to a relatively late, exilic unit (Deut 4:1–40) that brings together many of the themes of Deuteronomic theology in a rhetorical tour-de-force.123 As noted above (note 12), Stephen Geller has argued that the “identification of covenant observance with ‘wisdom’” in the passage quoted above has long been recognized as a crucial innovation in biblical religion and a step toward “the complex melding of law, piety and intellect known as rabbinic Judaism.”124 While this much is generally accepted, Geller argues that by introducing this new point in the context of a polemic against idolatry (Deut 4:1–24), the author of Deuteronomy 4 discredits the assumptions of the international wisdom tradition and “[i]n effect . . . posits a New Wisdom, that of covenant.”125 Geller’s claim that “Dt4’s foe is the determined internationality of what was universally considered wisdom in the ancient world”126 is hard to reconcile with the striking recognition by “the peoples” in v. 6 that Israel’s wisdom derives from its obedience to “all these statutes.” If the author of Deuteronomy 4 was consciously using a “wisdom” argument in vv. 6–8, it was to make a point about the universally recognizable validity of Israel’s laws, not to pit covenant observance against the assumptions of international wisdom. The author of Deuteronomy 4 does not directly identify “this entire law” (however he may have understood it) with wisdom. Moreover, he uses “wisdom” only in a limited sense in v. 6, to refer to a human quality that is assumed to by recognized by all peoples.127 It remained for later scribal sages, such as Ben Sira and the 123 Unless otherwise noted, quotations from the Bible and Apocrypha (including 4 Ezra) follow the NRSV translation. On the unity and dating of Deut 4:1–40, see A. D. H. Mayes, “Deuteronomy 4 and the Literary Criticism of Deuteronomy,” in A Song of Power (ed. Christensen), 195–224. He argues that chapter 4 belongs to a second exilic redactional layer that presupposes chapters 1–3, 5, 9–10 and 31 (but is earlier than the final edition of the book), and which introduces treaty/covenant terminology and structure to the book. On the genre of the unit, see Marc Z. Brettler, “A ‘Literary Sermon’ in Deuteronomy 4,” in ‘A Wise and Discerning Mind’: Essays in Honor of Burke O. Long (ed. S. M. Olyan and R. C. Culley; BJS 325; Providence: Brown University Press, 2000), 33–50. 124 Geller, “Fiery Wisdom,” 118. 125 Geller, “Fiery Wisdom,” 123. 126 Geller, “Fiery Wisdom,” 119. 127 Weinfeld (Deuteronomy and the Deuteronomic School, 255–6) observes that the association of the laws of the Torah with wisdom in 4:6 is paradoxical, since the God-given law is seen to be indicative of Israel’s wisdom. According to him, the “inherent contradiction” in this passage from Deuteronomy was ultimately resolved with the identification of Wisdom and the Torah in Sirach 24.

74

chapter two

author of Bar 3:9–4:4, to draw the conclusion that Israel’s Torah is an embodiment of transcendent wisdom or the “cosmic-moral order.”128 A number of other parallels between Deuteronomy and the wisdom tradition that Weinfeld discusses are picked up and extended by Ben Sira and the author of the wisdom poem of Baruch. Weinfeld points out the prevalence of the phrase “the fear of the Lord” or “the fear of God” in Deuteronomy, where its “basic connotation . . . is covenantal loyalty, i.e., observance of the stipulations of the covenant,” but where it also appears in its sapiential sense of general morality or conscience.129 He notes that the same phrase is often closely associated with wisdom in the wisdom literature (e.g. Prov 1:7, 9:10, 15:33; Job 28:28);130 we might add that this is also true of Sirach (e.g. 1:11–21, 25–27; 19:18–24). In Sirach, however, “fear of the Lord” is also often connected with “keeping the commandments” (e.g. 2:16, 10:19, 21:11, 23:27cd) and it has been argued that the “fundamental thesis of the book” is exemplified most clearly in Sir 19:20: “The whole of wisdom is fear of the Lord; complete wisdom is the fulfillment of the Law.”131 Another such point of contact that Weinfeld discusses is the use of “life” as the “framework of reward” in both the wisdom literature and Deuteronomy. The term is used in the same sense in Deuteronomy as in both Israelite and non-Israelite wisdom literature, Weinfeld argues, to connote happiness, or “the good life,” the only difference being that in Deuteronomy it is often applied to the life of the nation.132 Ben Sira sometimes adopts a Deuteronomic view of the path to “life” and applies it to individuals (e.g., 15:15–17, on which see below, 3.3), but his general approach is more similar to Proverbs than to Deuteronomy, in that his primary concern is what constitutes the “good life” for

128 Geller (“Fiery Wisdom,” 133) uses the phrase “Cosmic-moral Order” to refer to the transcendent plane of wisdom. 129 Weinfeld, Deuteronomy and the Deuteronomic School, 274. He regards the latter as its original sense because it has that meaning in the putative E source and in the wisdom literature. He points out that it retains that sense in Deuteronomy only when it is used of non-Israelites; with regard to Israel the concept has “undergone a process of nationalization” in Deuteronomy (ibid., 276). 130 Weinfeld, Deuteronomy and the Deuteronomic School, 274. 131 Patrick W. Skehan and Alexander A. Di Lella, The Wisdom of Ben Sira (AB 39; New York: Doubleday, 1987), 75–76; their translation. For a fuller development of this thesis, see Alexander A. Di Lella, “The Meaning of Wisdom in Ben Sira,” in In Search of Wisdom (ed. Perdue, Scott and Wiseman), 133–48. 132 Weinfeld, Deuteronomy and the Deuteronomic School, 307–8.

sapiential background of the conflicting theologies

75

individuals, not the nation.133 Both the Proverbial and Deuteronomic understandings of “life” appear to have influenced Ben Sira’s coining of the phrase of “the law of life” (17:11–12, 45:5), since that phrase is paralleled in both contexts both by “knowledge” and by “covenant.” In the case of Baruch, although the similar phrase “the commandments of life” is parallel to “wisdom” in 3:9, it is clear from the conclusion of the poem (4:1–4) that the poet is primarily concerned with the “life” of the nation.134 Weinfeld points out that Deut 30:11–14 draws upon the common sapiential theme of the limits of human knowledge, to which the idiom “X is too wonderful for me” belongs (cf. Job 42:3, Ps 139:6, Prov 30:18).135 The point of this passage is that “this commandment that I am commanding you today” (Deut 30:11) is not like the transcendent wisdom that is accessible only to God (according to Job 28:12–27), but instead pertains to human moral behavior, and therefore is “very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart for you to observe” (Deut 30:14). The wisdom poem of Baruch (3:29–30) appropriates and subtly alters the questions of Deut 30:12–13 to make the opposite point about wisdom (i.e., that it is accessible only to God, as in Job 28), but then turns around and identifies wisdom with the Torah, expressly in order to make the point that Israel alone possesses wisdom (3:36–4:4).136 Ben Sira does not draw the same conclusions, but he does exploit parallels between Deuteronomy and the wisdom tradition, especially Proverbs, in order to make the claim that transcendent wisdom is embodied in the Torah.137

133 See Shannon Burkes, “Wisdom and Law: Choosing Life in Ben Sira and Baruch,” JSJ 30 (1999): 253–76. She concludes that while the Proverbial view of “life” is dominant in Ben Sira’s thought, he “is reluctant to forego an entire understanding of life which his tradition makes available to him through Deuteronomic theology” (ibid., 266). 134 Burkes, “Wisdom and Law: Choosing Life,” 274–75. 135 Weinfeld, Deuteronomy and the Deuteronomic School, 258–59. 136 On the “selective citation” of Deut 30:12–13 in Bar 3:29–31, see Sheppard, “Wisdom and Torah,” 171–74. 137 The main thesis of Sheppard’s essay “Wisdom and Torah” is that Ben Sira arrived at the identification of Wisdom with the Torah (made most explicit in Sir 24:23) through “the combined interpretation of Deuteronomy 4, 30 and 32” (ibid., 175). While Sheppard is certainly correct in identifying those passages of Deuteronomy as essential background to Sir 24:23, the following analysis of Sirach 24 suggests that he does not give sufficient attention to Ben Sira’s exegetical engagement with Proverbs.

76

chapter two 3.1

The Wisdom-Torah Synthesis

The explicit identification of the Torah with Wisdom (understood as a personification of the divinely-imposed order of creation) is the theoretical underpinning of covenantal wisdom, as represented by Sirach and Baruch 3:9–4:4.138 Far from simply assuming an existing Deuteronomic identification of Wisdom with the Torah, Ben Sira makes the WisdomTorah synthesis the thesis of the great Praise of Wisdom that is the “centerpiece” of his book (chapter 24).139 Because both Ben Sira and pseudo-Baruch express this theological novum in a poetic rather than a philosophical mode, an exegetical rather than an analytical approach is necessary in order to discern exactly how each author understood the relationship of Wisdom to the Torah.140 Ben Sira’s poem, which unfortunately is not extant in Hebrew, takes the form of a self-praise of Wisdom, like Prov 8:22–31.141 The themes 138 According to E. P. Sanders (Paul and Palestinian Judaism: A Comparison of Patterns of Religion [Philadelphia: Fortress, 1977], 332), the argument or theme of the entire book of Sirach “seems to lie in the dialectic between wisdom and law.” 139 John J. Collins takes the position that chapter 24 is the “centerpiece of the book” in Jewish Wisdom, 46, 49; so also Gerald T. Sheppard, Wisdom as a Hermeneutical Construct: A Study in the Sapientializing of the Old Testament (BZAW 151; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1980), 21. According to Skehan and DiLella (Wisdom of Ben Sira, 331), chapter 24 introduces the second major division of the book, while Johannes Marböck earlier viewed chapter 24 as the conclusion of the first section of the book, which focuses on the themes of wisdom, fear of the Lord, and Torah. See his Weisheit im Wandel: Untersuchungen zur Weisheitstheologie bei Ben Sira (BBB 37; Bonn: Hanstein, 1971); Reprint, BZAW 272 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1999), 41–2 (page citations are to the reprint edition). More recently, Marböck has suggested that 24:1–29 may have been composed as a conclusion to an early edition of the book; with the later addition of 24:30–34, the Praise of Wisdom became simultaneously an introduction to a new part of the book. See his essay “Stucture and Redaction History of the Book of Ben Sira: Review and Prospects,” 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; BZAW 255; Berlin: de Gruyter, 1997), 61–79. 140 Geller makes a similar point in introducing his reading of Deuteronomy 4: since the biblical authors generally do not present their ideas about God in a logical, systematic manner, the best approach to discerning those ideas is “not logical argumentation but literary interpretation, not abstract analysis but concrete exegesis” (“Fiery Wisdom,” 103–4). While Sir 24:23 is the clearest identification of the Torah with Wisdom in the book, there are a number of other passages in which Ben Sira either explicitly or implicitly associates the Torah with wisdom or its synonyms (e.g., 15:1, 17:11, 19:20, etc.). For a full catalogue of the relevant passages, see Schnabel, Law and Wisdom, 69–79. 141 Verses 23–34 are spoken in the voice of the sage rather than by Wisdom herself, but they are generally considered part of the praise of Wisdom. Hans Conzelmann has argued that Ben Sira modeled his hymn directly on aretalogies of Isis, in “The Mother of Wisdom,” in The Future of Our Religious Past: Essays in Honour of Rudolf Bultmann (ed.

sapiential background of the conflicting theologies

77

of the first stanza (vv. 3–7)142 are Wisdom’s role in creation and her quest for an abode. Although Wisdom “came forth from the mouth of the Most High” (v. 3) like the effective word of God in Deutero-Isaiah (cf. Isa 45:23, 48:3, 55:11),143 in the next two verses she claims dominion over every sphere of creation, assuming attributes that are normally reserved for God. She is enthroned in heaven, in “a pillar of cloud” (v. 4); “alone” she traverses the heavens, the abyss, the sea and the earth, and rules over “every people and nation” (vv. 5–6; cf. Job 9:8). Verse 7, however, casts a new light on the previous two verses: we learn that the purpose of Wisdom’s travels was to seek a “resting place.”144 The second stanza (vv. 8–12) is marked off by the introductory adverb “then” (τότε) from the mythical language about creation in the preceding verses; in light of the subsequent identification of Wisdom with the Torah, the likely referent of this “then” is the covenant at Sinai. At a particular historical moment, Ben Sira emphasizes, Wisdom received a divine command and gave up the autonomy of which she boasted in verses 4–7, “mak[ing] her dwelling” and “receiv[ing] her inheritance” in Israel. There is a tension in this stanza between the further localization of Wisdom in the Tabernacle and later in Jerusalem (presumably in the Temple), in obedience to the divine command

J. M. Robinson, trans. C. E. Carlston and R. P. Scharlemann; London: SCM, 1971), 230–43. Given the preponderance of biblical language, it seems more likely that the influence of the Isis aretalogies was indirect, through Proverbs 8. 142 The present exegesis follows the structure proposed by Marböck (Weisheit im Wandel, 44–47), who subdivides the hymn into six stanzas (following the first two introductory verses): vv. 3–7, 8–12, 13–17, 19–22, 23–29, and 30–34. Maurice Gilbert takes exception to this structure only with respect to verse 8, which he would group with 3–7, and verse 9, which he would set apart from both the preceding and the following verses. See his proposal for the structure in “L’eloge de la Sagesse (Siracide 24),” RTL 5 (1974): 330–31. 143 Marböck, Weisheit im Wandel, 59. In light of the second half of the verse, which Sheppard (Wisdom as a Hermeneutical Construct, 22–27) interprets as a “synthetic hearing” of Gen 1:2 and 2:6, Wisdom apparently issued from God’s mouth as the first of his creations (cf. Prov 8:22). It is not clear, however, that Ben Sira identified Wisdom with God’s creative word in Genesis 1, as in later Hellenistic Jewish speculation about the Logos (see Marböck, Weisheit im Wandel, 60). 144 Sheppard (Wisdom as a Hermeneutical Construct, 27–43) argues that verses 4–7 are meant to recall the desert wanderings of Israel and their search for a land in which to dwell. He is forced to acknowledge, however, that nothing in verses 5 and 6 supports this interpretation. Moreover, if verse 4 did contain an allusion to the Exodus, Wisdom’s role would be that of God (as in Wis 10:15–19). In support of this interpretation, the word “alone” in verse 5 could be read as an allusion to Deut 32:12a, “the Lord alone guided him [ Israel in the desert].” Sheppard, on the other hand, claims (based on verse 7) that Wisdom’s experience parallels that of Israel, not God.

78

chapter two

(vv. 10–11), and the allusion in v. 9 to Prov 8:22–31, which reminds the reader that Wisdom is eternal and present in the created order.145 The final verse of this stanza clarifies that Wisdom stands in more or less the same relation to Israel as does God, since the people in whom she was commanded to “receive her inheritance” (κατακληρονομήθητι, v. 8) is “the portion of the Lord, his heritage” (ἐν μερίδι κυρίου κληρονομίας αὐτοῦ, v. 12), an allusion to Deut 32:8–9.146 In the next stanza, having “taken root” (v. 12), Wisdom compares herself to a series of trees (vv. 13–16), recalling the statement in Prov 3:18 that Wisdom is a “tree of life to those who lay hold of her.” Yet the specific place names associated with the trees (“in Lebanon . . . on the heights of Hermon . . . in En-gedi . . . in Jericho”) locate this tree of life not in the garden of Eden, but in the land of Israel.147 The final verse of the stanza (v. 17), which compares Wisdom to a vine, shifts the focus of the imagery from beauty and fragrance to abundant fruit.148 The fruit of wisdom is another motif borrowed from Proverbs (8:19), and the following stanza (vv. 19–22) develops this motif in an appeal of Wisdom to her disciples similar to those in Proverbs 8 and 9, especially Prov 9:5–6. Foreshadowing the identification of Wisdom with the Torah, Ben Sira borrows imagery from Ps 19:11 to describe the memory of Wisdom as “sweeter than honey” and the possession Marböck, Weisheit im Wandel, 63–64. Sheppard (Wisdom as a Hermeneutical Construct, 43) notes the allusion, but misinterprets it because he reads these famous verses of Deuteronomy as referring to the distribution of portions of land to the various tribe of Israel (following the reading of the MT of 32:8b, “he fixed the boundaries of the peoples according to the number of the Israelites”). It appears, however, that Ben Sira read the version of Deut 32:8–9 reflected in the LXX (and supported by the Cave 4 fragments of Deuteronomy from Qumran), “When the Most High apportioned the nations, when he divided humankind, he fixed the boundaries of the peoples according to the number of the gods; the LORD’s own portion was his people, Jacob his allotted share” (NRSV). Cf. Sir 17:17, “He appointed a ruler for every nation, but Israel is the Lord’s own portion.” Thus the point of the allusion is not, as Sheppard says, that Wisdom’s inheritance is not a parcel of land but, like “the Lord’s portion,” the people as a whole; but rather that Wisdom’s relationship to Israel is analogous to that of “the creator of all” (Sir 24:8) to the people that he chose as his own portion. 147 Sheppard (Wisdom as a Hermeneutical Construct, 52–54) describes the imagery of this stanza as “Edenic,” but the only clear allusion to the garden of Eden in the poem comes with the mention in verses 25–27 of the four rivers which stem from the river that flows through Eden (Gen 2:10–14), along with the Jordan and the Nile. Marböck (Weisheit im Wandel, 75) points out that a very similar series of images is used for the flourishing of the people Israel in Hos 14:6–8. 148 Ben Sira may have chosen to conclude with the vine because it is frequently a symbol for Israel: e.g., Hosea 10:1, Jer 2:21, Psalm 80, and Ezekiel 15, 17 and 19. 145 146

sapiential background of the conflicting theologies

79

of her as “sweeter than a honeycomb” (v. 20). He rather surprisingly emphasizes that the fruits of Wisdom yield not satisfaction, but rather a hunger and thirst for more (v. 21). This may be an allusion to the theme, prevalent in the wisdom literature and also in Deuteronomy, that satiety leads to forgetfulness of God and sin; by contrast, “those who work with [Wisdom] will not sin” (24:22).149 In verse 23, the speaker changes from Wisdom to the sage himself, who reveals that the foregoing self-praise of Wisdom all applies to the Torah. The form of the verse, which is the only tristich in the poem, raises questions about its integrity; to reduce it to a distich, some scholars would omit the phrase “the book of the covenant of the Most High God” as a later gloss.150 In its present form, the unfamiliar designation “the book of the covenant of the Most High” in the first stich of v. 23 is illuminated by a direct quotation from Deut 33:4 (LXX) in the second and third stichs. That verse describes the Torah as the “inheritance” or “possession” (κληρονομία) of Israel, which echoes but reverses the relationship between Wisdom and Israel proclaimed in v. 8 (and clarified in v. 12), where Wisdom’s “inheritance” was in Israel.151 Is Ben Sira claiming that wisdom is to be found exclusively in the Torah, or does he mean that the Torah partakes of a more universal wisdom? For Sheppard, Ben Sira is primarily an exegete, and wisdom is merely a “hermeneutical construct,” a “perspective from which to interpret Torah.”152 He reads the whole of chapter 24 as a “wisdom interpretation” of the Torah, in the sense that the concept of wisdom is being read into a recapitulation of salvation history.153 Marböck reads the poem much differently, with the result that verse 23 strikes him as a surprising, bold statement. He views Ben Sira primarily as a tradent of

149 On this theme, see Weinfeld, Deuteronomy and the Deuteronomic School, 280–81; the examples he cites are Prov 30:8–9; Job 21:7–15, 22:17–18; Ps 73:7–11 and Deut 6:10–11, 8:12–13, 17:16–20, 31:20 and 32:13–15. 150 Gilbert (“L’eloge de la Sagesse,” 337) regards the reduction to a distich as justified, based on the supposition that the Hebrew text may have been expanded under the influence of Bar 4:1 prior to the Greek and Syriac translations. Since there is no textual warrant for such a reduction, most recent scholarship treats the verse as it stands, some describing it as a momentary lapse into prose. 151 Perhaps not too much should be made of the reversal of possessor and possessed, however, since Ben Sira also uses the phrase ἡ κληρονομία μου in the opposite sense (objective genitive) in v. 20, implying that possessing Wisdom and being possessed by her amount to the same thing. 152 Sheppard, Wisdom as a Hermeneutical Construct, 13. 153 Sheppard, Wisdom as a Hermeneutical Construct, 61.

80

chapter two

the Israelite wisdom tradition, whose theology is based in creation. His detailed study of the term “Torah” in Sirach finds that in most cases it is a very broad, universal concept, tied to the order of creation.154 On the whole, Marböck’s reading of Ben Sira as a faithful tradent of Israelite wisdom is well founded, and he is right to read 24:23 as a bold departure from this tradition. On the other hand, by quoting Deut 33:4, Ben Sira obviously means to suggest that the identification of Wisdom and Torah is not his own idea, but the true meaning of Deuteronomy. Sheppard and also Geller are correct in pointing to Deut 4:6–8 as the primary biblical basis for the Wisdom-Torah synthesis, but Ben Sira understands both “wisdom” and “Torah” much differently from that passage.155 Ben Sira takes a bold step in asserting that the wisdom that is Israel’s inheritance through the Torah is the same cosmic Wisdom that is glorified in Proverbs 8 and Job 28. Therefore Marböck is correct in claiming that Ben Sira brought the Torah within the purview of the Israelite wisdom tradition,156 rather than merely using wisdom as a trope in his interpretation of Scripture, as Sheppard maintains. The verses following 24:23 support Marböck’s view that Ben Sira’s concept of Torah is not limited to the Mosaic Torah. By comparing the Torah to the four rivers that flow out of Eden, the Pishon, Gihon, Tigris and Euphrates (Gen 2:10–14), along with the Nile and the Jordan, he evokes an image of Wisdom-Torah watering the known world (24:25–27). To this geographical pervasiveness of Wisdom (and hence of Torah), he adds a temporal dimension: “the first man did not know wisdom [Gk.: her] fully, nor will the last one fathom her” (24:28).157 In 154 Johannes Marböck, “Gesetz und Weisheit: Zum Verständnis des Gesetzes bei Jesus Ben Sira,” BZ NF 20 (1976): 1–21. Schnabel disputes this conclusion in Law and Wisdom, 29–44. Although Schnabel treats the problem much more exhaustively than Marböck, he does not demonstrate conclusively that Ben Sira’s understanding of Torah was limited to the Mosaic revelation. 155 Sheppard, “Wisdom and Torah,” 169; idem, Wisdom as a Hermeneutical Construct, 63–8; Geller, “Fiery Wisdom,” 118, 123–25. Whereas “Torah” in Deuteronomy 4 refers to the book of Deuteronomy itself or the Deuteronomic law, Ben Sira almost certainly meant to refer to the entire Pentateuch. Moreover, while the author of Deuteronomy 4 implies that wisdom is universally recognized by human beings, he does not personify wisdom or associate it with either God or the created order. 156 Marböck, Gesetz und Weisheit 19–20. So also Von Rad, Wisdom in Israel (Nashville: Abingdon, 1972), 244–47; Collins, Jewish Wisdom, 55. 157 Assuming the Greek text renders the original Hebrew faithfully, it is worth noting that in the original Hebrew the antecedent of “her” in this verse would have been ambiguous and could equally have referred to Torah, the subject of the previous three verses. If so, the implied subject of the final verse of the stanza, whose “thoughts are more abundant than the sea,” probably was also the Torah, in keeping with the

sapiential background of the conflicting theologies

81

the final stanza, the sage describes his own role in relation to Wisdom or Torah—the ambiguity persists—as “like a canal from a river” (24:30). Although he compares his teaching to prophecy (24:33), he extends the reach of his instruction both spatially (εἰς μακράν, v. 32) and temporally (εἰς γενεὰς, v. 33), echoing the previous stanza’s implicit extension of Torah-Wisdom to all places and all generations. Ben Sira clears away any doubt about his intended audience—and his motivations—in the final verse: “Observe that I have not labored for myself alone, but for all who seek wisdom [Gk.: her]” (24:34). A subtly but significantly different perspective on the relationship of Torah to Wisdom is found in the wisdom poem of Baruch 3:9–4:4. The poem opens with “Hear, O Israel, the commandments of life” (Bar 3:9a; cf. Deut 5:1, 6:4, etc.), alerting the reader to the intended audience and Deuteronomic theology of the poem, despite the poet’s preference for wisdom terminology.158 After four verses (3:10–13) that recapitulate the Deuteronomic theme of the prose portion of Baruch (1:1–3:8), the exile as punishment for breaking the covenant,159 the poet shifts to standard sapiential language in v. 14, implying that where there is wisdom, there is also “strength,” “understanding,” “length of days,” “life,” “light for the eyes,” and “peace” (cf. Job 12:12–13, Prov 3:13, 16–17). The next section of the poem, 3:15–23, is modeled on Job 28:12–22, but its argument tends in a different direction from that of Job 28. Walter Harrelson, who divides the section into two, summarizes its themes as “the way to wisdom is hidden” and “even the wisest of nations are ignorant of wisdom.”160 The nations are the subject of the entire

imagery of verses 25–27. The Greek translator, for whom the concepts of wisdom and Torah were perhaps not as interchangeable as for the author, opted to apply the very universalistic statements of the last two verses of the stanza to wisdom by using feminine pronouns (since “law” is masculine in Greek). 158 The phrase “the commandments of life” recalls Deut 30:15–20, while the parallelism between these commandments and wisdom (in 3:9b) is based on Deut 4:6 (cf. Ben Sira’s parallel between “the law of life” and “knowledge” in 17:11 and 45:5). See Burkes, “Wisdom and Law: Choosing Life,” 267, 271. 159 Burke, Poetry of Baruch, 22. 160 Walter Harrelson, “Wisdom Hidden and Revealed according to Baruch (Baruch 3:9–4:4),” in Priests, Prophets and Scribes: Essays on the Formation and Heritage of Second Temple Judaism in Honour of Joseph Blenkinsopp (ed. E. Ulrich et al., JSOTSup 149; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1992), 163–64. My understanding of the poem’s structure is based on Harrelson’s, but I prefer a slightly simpler division of the poem into five sections: 3:9–14; 15–23; 24–28; 29–35; 3:36–4:4 (following the LXX verse numbering where it diverges from the NRSV).

82

chapter two

section, however, and it advances a single argument. Whereas Job 28 compares the search for wisdom to mining for precious metals and stones, suggesting that wisdom is both more desirable and more elusive, this poem contrasts the endless scheming to acquire wealth on the part of the “rulers of the nations” with the search for wisdom, which they have neglected. Verses 18–19 are more reminiscent of Eccl 2:18–21 than of Job 28 in theme: the poet regards the search for wealth by the rulers of the nations as futile, because they will die and their wealth will pass to their descendents. Yet their descendents’ search for wisdom is equally futile (3:20–21; cf. Eccl 1:16–18, 2:15–16)—simply because true wisdom is not to be found among the nations of the world, even those renowned for their wisdom (3:22–23). Although this section of the poem does not associate wisdom with Torah, its purpose is to set up a contrast between other nations and Israel, to whom God gives wisdom later in the poem. The third section of the poem (3:24–28), although related in theme to the previous one, is set off from it by an apostrophe to Israel concerning the greatness of God’s creation: “O Israel, how great is the house of God, how vast the territory that he possesses! It is great and has no bounds; it is high and immeasurable” (3:24–25). To refer to the entire universe as the “house of God” is apparently an innovation on the part of the usually conservative poet, but it may have been motivated by a desire to express a non-Hebraic concept (the cosmos) in biblicalsounding language.161 At any rate, the mention of greatness serves as an introduction to the example of the giants, “who were famous of old, great in stature, expert in war,” and yet perished because God “did not choose them” for the gift of wisdom (3:26–28).162 Thus, this section of the poem just provides a striking illustration of the point made in the previous section; namely, that the other nations do not possess wisdom. 161 Burke (Poetry of Baruch, 96 and 127, note 76) notes that the concept of the universe as the house of God is found in several treatises of Philo of Alexandria, but not in any earlier Jewish text. He adds in note 77 that some scholars have taken this unusual use of “house of God” as evidence for a post-70 c.e. date of composition, but the fact that the Temple was still standing did not prevent Philo from referring to the whole world as the “house of God.” 162 According to Sheppard (Wisdom as a Hermeneutical Construct, 85–90), these verses combine the description of the Nephilim (LXX: γίγαντες) of Gen 6:4 and descriptions of their putative descendants, the “men of stature” whom the Hebrews faced in their conquest of Canaan (Num 13:33–34) and wars with the Philistines (e.g. 2 Sam 21:20).

sapiential background of the conflicting theologies

83

The most remarkable synthesis of Deuteronomic and sapiential language is found in the fourth section, 3:29–35 (LXX numbering). The opening words of this section—“Who has gone up into heaven, and taken her, and brought her down from the clouds?”—echo the skeptical words of Agur in Prov 30:4, but as Burke puts it, “the primary source for this verse and the next is manifestly Deut 30:12–13.”163 Just as he alluded to Job 28 to make his own, quite distinct point in the second section, the poet has inverted the meaning of the questions in Deut 30:12–13 so that they no longer affirm the proximity of the Torah, but rather underscore the theme of the unavailability of wisdom to human beings (3:31).164 The poet again alludes to Job 28 by asserting that only God, “the one who knows all things” (3:32a),165 has “found her by his understanding” (3:32b).166 As in Job 28:23–27, the relationship between God and Wisdom is set in the context of creation in Bar 3:32c–35 (LXX), but rather than the creation “in the beginning” (as in Prov 8:22–31), the context seems to be God’s ongoing work of creation in the present, since these verses allude several times to Job 38.167 The creator is identified as “our God” in v. 36 (LXX), signaling a shift to the covenantal language that dominates the last section of the poem. It is immediately followed by the declaration that this God, having “found the whole way to knowledge” (echoing 3:32), “gave her to his servant Jacob, and to Israel, whom he loved” (3:37, LXX).168 If the 163 Burke, Poetry of Baruch, 101. Of course, these verses of Deuteronomy themselves allude to the type of questions posed in Prov 30:4. 164 Moore, The Additions, 300. At the same time, of course, these verses anticipate the identification of wisdom and Torah at the end of the poem. 165 Since this hardly sounds like a Hebraic way of referring to God, Burke (Poetry of Baruch, 72, 104) proposes that the original might have read ‫רואה־כל הוא ידעה‬, “the One who perceives all things knows her.” While there is no verbal parallel for this designation of God either, at least there are semantic parallels for the idea of God as all-seeing in late biblical and early post-biblical Hebrew: Job 28:24 (which the poet surely had in mind in this passage), Ps 151:4 (11QPsa xxviii, 7–8), and Sir 15:18. On the other hand, there is a similar semantic parallel for the idea of God as all-knowing in Sir 42:18c, but Ben Sira never refers to God as “the one who knows all things.” 166 Burke (Poetry of Baruch, 105) and Sheppard (Wisdom as a Hermeneutical Construct, 95) independently conclude that the most likely Hebrew Vorlage of ἐξεῦρεν αὐτὴν is ‫חקרה‬, based on Job 28:27. 167 Sheppard, Wisdom as a Hermeneutical Construct, 96. 168 As Sheppard observes (Wisdom as a Hermeneutical Construct, 98), the parallelism of Jacob and Israel is typical of the election motif in the Hebrew Bible (e.g. Ps 135:4, Isa 44:1, Jer 10:16), but if a gift is mentioned in conjunction with the election, it is usually the Promised Land (e.g. Ps 105:10–11) or the Torah (e.g. Ps 147:19–20). Here, as in Sir 24:8, the gift of Israel’s election is wisdom—an idea already expressed in Deut 4:6, as noted above.

84

chapter two

disputed verse at the end of chapter 3 is indeed a Christian interpolation,169 then “the whole way to knowledge” is immediately defined as “the book of the commandments of God, the law that endures forever” (4:1a). Like Sir 24:23, this verse simply makes explicit what has been implicit in the poem up to this point, that “the Torah provides the only sufficient source of life-giving wisdom (4:1b).”170 In fact, the wisdom poem in Baruch is much more emphatic than Sirach about Israel’s exclusive claim to wisdom and “life” through the gift of the Torah. Israel’s advantage over other nations with respect to wisdom is underscored in 4:3, and the poem ends, as it began, with a direct address to Israel: “Happy are we, O Israel, for we know what is pleasing to God” (4:4). Ending on a nationalistic, even triumphant note, the wisdom poem in Baruch reveals a far different perspective on the Wisdom-Torah synthesis from that of Sirach. Unlike Ben Sira, the author of Baruch shows little interest in the role of Wisdom in creation, or in creation as a revelation of God’s glory. Instead, the poem’s main thesis is that other nations do not possess wisdom, a divine gift which is entrusted to Israel alone, in the form of the Torah.171 Although the creation responds to God’s commands (3:32–35), there is no indication that the divine law is perceptible to human beings in any form other than “the book of the commandments of God” (4:1). The wisdom poem of Baruch draws

169 In the Greek, 3:38 reads μετὰ τοῦτο ἐπὶ τῆς γῆς ὤφθη καὶ ἐν τοῖς ἀνθρώποις συνανεστράφη. The NRSV includes it and translates, “Afterward she appeared on

earth and lived with humankind.” Because the subject is left unstated (although in context it is obviously Wisdom), the verse sounds like an allusion to John 1:14, and it was often cited out of context by the Greek and Latin Fathers in support of the Logos doctrine of the Incarnation. Moore (The Additions, 302) and Saldarini (“Baruch” in NIB, 6:968) think the verse is probably original to the poem, since it is compatible with Sir 24:10–12, and Burke (Poetry of Baruch, 112–13) concurs, rendering it into Hebrew with a feminine subject. Harrelson (“Wisdom Hidden and Revealed,” 165) points out that the Ethiopic translator, who also used a feminine subject, did not understand the verse as a reference to the Incarnation. The Latin, Syriac, Coptic and Arabic versions, on the other hand, render the verse with a masculine subject, presumably understanding it to refer to the Incarnation (see Burke, 131, note 128). Sheppard (Wisdom as a Hermeneutical Construct, 97, note 19) drops the verse on the grounds that “it is not essential to the analysis.” 170 Sheppard, Wisdom as a Hermeneutical Construct, 98–99. 171 Such an attitude may be what Paul meant by “boast[ing] in the law” (Rom 2:23; cf. 2:17), according to Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, 550: “The warning is against boasting of the relationship to God which is evidenced by possession of the law and against being smug about the knowledge of God’s will while in fact transgressing” (emphasis his).

sapiential background of the conflicting theologies

85

much more than Sirach on the skeptical language of “critical” wisdom ( Job, Ecclesiastes and the words of Agur), but uses it in the service of a particularistic re-definition of wisdom. 3.2

Election and Covenant

A comparison of the two wisdom poems, Sirach 24 and Baruch 3:9–4:4, suggests that their respective authors have very different views of the people who are favored by God. Pseudo-Baruch addresses his entire poem to “Israel” (3:9, 24; 4:4) and makes it very clear by the end that only Israel has been favored with God’s gift of Wisdom-Torah. Not content to celebrate the Torah as a sign of God’s love for Israel (3:37 LXX), the author emphasizes that other nations have not found wisdom (3:20–23) and suggests that Israel should jealously guard their “advantages” over other nations (4:3). Although the poet briefly alludes to the possibility of individual Israelites forsaking the Torah (4:1), the triumphant tone of the ending of the wisdom poem contrasts sharply with the penitential tone of the first and third sections of Baruch, with their emphasis on Israel’s failure to keep the commandments (cf. 1:18–19, 4:13). In 4 Ezra, Ezra expresses a degree of nationalistic pride in Israel’s possession of the Torah, particularly in his second lament (5:23–30, especially 5:27), but it is somewhat muted by his belief in Israel’s inevitable failure to keep the commandments, due to the influence of the “evil heart” (3:20). Nevertheless, he does maintain that Israel has kept the commandments better than other nations (3:35–36), a paradoxical claim that is examined in the following chapter. Ben Sira, in contrast to pseudo-Baruch, defines his audience in 24:34 as “all who seek wisdom” (cf. 33:18), which accords with his typically sapiential focus on individuals and avoidance of ethnic distinctions throughout most of the book (on 36:1–22, see below, 3.5). In fact, except in chapter 24, he rarely mentions Israel or the covenant in connection with wisdom or Torah (17:11–17 is an important exception, discussed below, 3.3), until the Praise of the Fathers section, chapters 44–50.172

172 Other exceptions include an injunction to “remember the covenant of the Most High” (28:7) in the context of advice on mercy and forgiveness; “the law of the Lord’s covenant” (39:8; cf. 38:34) as the ultimate object of the scribe’s study, in the praise of the scribe’s profession (38:24–39:11); in a list of things one should not be ashamed of (42:1–8), “the law of the Most High and his covenant” comes first. In addition, the verse “The days of a person’s life are numbered, but the days of Israel are without number” (37:25) interrupts the flow of a discourse on wisdom (37:16–31); see Skehan

86

chapter two

Instead, fulfilling the law (Torah) or keeping the commandments seems to be practically synonymous with the fear of the Lord and wisdom (e.g., 1:26–27, 15:1, 19:20, 21:11)—that is, an abstract moral ideal, not a specific set of practices identified with Israel. Jack T. Sanders has pointed out that Ben Sira’s practical advice (which makes up the bulk of the book) takes no account of the Wisdom-Torah synthesis: he never once cites a commandment of the Torah in support of his sage advice.173 It may be that he deliberately avoided doing so in order to foster the impression that his “wisdom” was universally applicable. The importance of the concepts of election and covenant to Ben Sira’s theology becomes clear only in the Praise of the Fathers.174 These chapters are often passed over in discussions of Ben Sira’s place in the wisdom tradition because they do not fit any of traditional wisdom genres and make little explicit reference to wisdom.175 While wisdom is mentioned only three times (44:15, 45:26 and 47:14), “glory” (‫כבוד‬, δόξα) is the most frequently recurring theme of the “Praise of the Fathers.” Burton Mack has suggested that for Ben Sira, glory stands for the presence of Wisdom, or is the form in which she is manifest in

and Di Lella, Wisdom of Ben Sira, 435. Also worth noting is his comment concerning blasphemy: “may it never be found in the inheritance of Jacob!” (23:12); see Skehan and Di Lella, Wisdom of Ben Sira, 323. 173 Sanders, “When Sacred Canopies Collide,” 123. 174 The Praise of the Fathers consists of a proem on the subject of fame (44:1–15); a lengthy catalogue of biblical heroes (44:16–49:16); an extravagant praise of the high priest Simon son of Onias, a recently deceased contemporary of Ben Sira (50:1–21); and a concluding prayer (50:22–24). 175 Von Rad devotes about a page of Wisdom in Israel (257–58) to the proem of the Praise of the Fathers, and then dismisses the rest of it in a footnote. James Crenshaw covers it in less than two pages in Old Testament Wisdom: An Introduction (revised ed.; Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1998), 142–43. Neither makes any attempt to relate it to the rest of the book. Collins, however, treats it at some length in Jewish Wisdom, 97–108. The Praise of the Fathers does not fit any known biblical or classical genre, although a number of precedents have been proposed; for a summary, see Thomas R. Lee, Studies in the Form of Sirach 44–50 (SBLDS 75; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1986), 19–78. Lee’s own suggestion for the genre, an encomium for Simon son of Onias, underestimates the importance of the catalogue of biblical heroes, which Lee treats as the list of Simon’s glorious ancestors, usually a minor component of the encomium genre. Ben Sira’s catalogue of biblical heroes was imitated so often by Jewish and Christian authors after him that he might be said to have invented a new sub-genre (similar to the Beispielreihe of Hellenistic rhetoric, it was always used in the service of some argument); see 1 Macc 2:51–60, Wisdom 10, 4 Macc 16:16–23 and 18:11–19, 4 Ezra 7:105–111, Acts 7 and Hebrews 11; for a list of negative biblical examples, cf. CD 2:17–3:12. On the Beispielreihe, see Lee, Studies, 32–48.

sapiential background of the conflicting theologies

87

the world.176 Ben Sira frequently refers to human glory as the fruit of wisdom (1:19, 4:13; 6:29–31; 37:26; 38:9–11, etc.). The proem makes clear the connection between wisdom and glory in its closing verses: the reason “their glory will never be blotted out” is that “the assembly declares their wisdom, and the congregation proclaims their praise” (44:13, 15). For present purposes, the relevant passage of the “Praise of the Fathers” is the section immediately following the proem (44:17–45:26), which praises seven figures from the Pentateuch, with each of whom God made a covenant.177 Apparently, Ben Sira read the entire Torah narrative as the history of Israel’s foundation, in the course of which God made a series of “everlasting” covenants, each with a narrower circle of people. The covenant made with Noah applied to “all flesh,” that it “should never again be blotted out by a flood” (44:18; cf. Gen 9:11). The next covenant is with Abraham, “the great father of a multitude of nations” (44:19; cf. Gen 17:5–6), who was promised that “the nations would be blessed through his offspring”(44:21; cf. Gen 12:3, 22:18) and also that God would “exalt his offspring like the stars, and give them an inheritance from sea to sea, and from the Euphrates to the ends of the earth (44:21; cf. Gen 15:18, Exod 23:31, Deut 11:24). The tension in Ben Sira’s description of the Abrahamic covenant between Israel’s kinship with other nations and their “inheritance” of lands belonging to other nations can also be felt in the opening chapters of Deuteronomy as well as in the ancestral narratives of Genesis.178 In keeping with the relatively undeveloped character of Isaac in the ancestral narratives, Ben Sira mentions only that “to Isaac he gave the same assurance, for the sake of his father Abraham” (44:22). On

176 Burton L. Mack, Wisdom and the Hebrew Epic: Ben Sira’s Hymn in Praise of the Fathers (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1985), 167–71. “Glory” is also a key term in Ben Sira’s Hymn to the Creator (42:15–43:33), which praises the phenomena of nature as manifestations of divine wisdom, although wisdom is mentioned directly only twice (42:21, 43:33). The beginning of 42:21 reads, “He has set in order the splendors of his wisdom” (τὰ μεγαλεῖα τῆς σοφίας αὐτοῦ ἐκόσμησε) and the poem concludes, “For the Lord has made all things, and to the godly he has given his wisdom” (43:33). 177 Verse 16, on Enoch, is missing from some of the earliest manuscripts, and does not fit the section’s theme of covenant-making, so it is likely a later addition. Enoch is also mentioned in 49:14–16 along with some other antediluvian figures and (incongruously) Joseph, but these verses may be secondary also. 178 See Patrick D. Miller, “The Wilderness Journey in Deuteronomy: Style, Structure and Theology in Deuteronomy 1–3,” in his Israelite Religion and Biblical Theology: Collected Essays ( JSOTSup 267; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2000), 572–92.

88

chapter two

Jacob’s head, however, God “made to rest” (κατέπαυσεν) the covenant and “gave him his inheritance” (ἔδωκεν αὐτῷ ἐν κληρονομίᾳ) to be distributed among the twelve tribes (44:23; cf. the similar language about Wisdom in 24:8). The covenant Moses received was for all of Jacob’s descendants, but it now took the form of “the law of life and knowledge,” which Moses was chosen “out of all humankind” to “teach” to Israel (45:4–5). The covenant with Aaron, however, was only for his own family, the priests (45:15), and an even more exclusive version of the same covenant was made with his grandson Phinehas, whose descendants were promised “the high priesthood forever” (‫)כהונה גדולה עד עולם‬ (45:24; cf. Num 25:13, where it is an eternal covenant of priesthood, but not of “high priesthood”). The priestly covenant is compared with the Davidic in 45:25; while the exact meaning of the comparison is difficult to discern because the Hebrew text is corrupt and the Greek is unclear, it appears to favor the priestly covenant.179 The benediction that concludes the section adds a new twist to the association between wisdom and glory: it implies that the glory of the entire people depends on the wisdom of their priests (45:26). Ben Sira’s reverence for the priesthood is evident both in the pride of place he gives to Aaron and Phinehas in 45:6–24 and in his lengthy praise of the high priest Simon son of Onias in 50:1–21, as well as in his association of Wisdom with the Temple in 24:10–11.180 Nevertheless, Ben Sira acknowledges the fact that the priestly covenant is only one part of the Torah and is therefore subsumed under the covenant with Israel, by subordinating Aaron to Moses. According to 45:15–17, it was Moses who ordained Aaron, “chose him out of all the living to offer sacrifice to the Lord,” and “gave him authority . . . to teach Jacob

179 Skehan and DiLella, Wisdom of Ben Sira, 514; Mack, Wisdom and the Hebrew Epic, 39. The rest of the Praise of the Fathers, which is ambivalent about the monarchy (cf. 49:4) and exuberant in its praise of the priesthood, supports this interpretation. Moreover the benediction which follows in 45:26, which is evidently addressed to the priests, seems to rejoice that at least one monarchic function, “to judge his people with justice,” has been taken over by the priests. 180 Otto Mulder, Simon the High Priest in Sirach 50: An Exegetical Study of the Significance of Simon the High Priest as Climax to the Praise of the Fathers in Ben Sira’s Concept of the History of Israel ( JSJSup 78; Leiden: Brill, 2003); Benjamin G. Wright III, “ ‘Fear the Lord and Honor the Priest’: Ben Sira as Defender of the Jerusalem Priesthood,” in Book of Ben Sira in Modern Research (ed. Beentjes), 189–96. See also Leo G. Perdue, Wisdom and Cult: A Critical Analysis of the Views of Cult in the Wisdom Literatures of Israel and the Ancient Near East (SBLDS 30; Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press, 1977), 189–96, 199.

sapiential background of the conflicting theologies

89

the testimonies and to enlighten Israel with his law.” The implication of these verses is that the authority of the Torah surpasses even that of the priesthood. After the section on the Torah narrative, the term “covenant” occurs only once more in the Praise of the Fathers, predictably in connection with the Davidic covenant (47:11). It is clear, nevertheless, that covenant is an important theological category for Ben Sira, since it emerges as the major theme in his recapitulation of the Torah narrative. The related theme of the election of Israel is expressed in various terms in the remainder of the Praise of the Fathers, despite its focus on a series of exemplary individuals rather than on the history of the people. For example, Joshua became “a great savior of God’s elect” (46:1); Solomon amassed wealth “in the name of the Lord God, who is called the God of Israel” (47:18); the Twelve Prophets are praised because “they comforted the people of Jacob and delivered them with confident hope” (49:10). The Praise of the Fathers ends (prior to the final benediction) with the scene of the High Priest Simeon invoking God’s blessing on “all the congregation of Israel” (50:20–21). If it were not for the fact that Ben Sira devotes so much space near the end of his book to the praise of famous Israelites, his occasional mentions of Israel and the covenant in the rest of the book might seem like aberrations in an otherwise quite traditional wisdom book. The fact that Ben Sira chose to end his book with the Praise of the Fathers, however, contributes to the sense that Ben Sira’s wisdom has been “covenantalized.” 3.3

Anthropology and Moral Responsibility

Nevertheless, outside of the Praise of the Fathers, Ben Sira’s theology appears to be rooted more in his beliefs about the order of creation than in any particularly Israelite claim.181 The opposite is true of the wisdom poem in Baruch; although it contains a creation-based doxology in 3:32–35, the doxology is subordinate to the claim “This is our [i.e., Israel’s] God, no other can be compared to him” (3:36, LXX numbering).182 As noted above, Baruch uses sapiential language in the service

181 Collins, Jewish Wisdom, 55. By contrast, Sanders (Paul and Palestinian Judaism, 330–33) considers Ben Sira’s dominant theological framework to be that of covenant and election, into which he incorporated insights from the wisdom tradition. 182 Moore (The Additions, 301) points out the similarity of the thought sequence to Deutero-Isaiah; cf. especially Isa 45:18 and 40:25–26.

90

chapter two

of a Deuteronomic, covenantal theology and is arguably a stronger example of “covenantal” wisdom than Sirach. In the context of a long discourse on moral responsibility (15:11– 18:14), Ben Sira twice appeals to the creation of humankind. The first passage to consider, 15:11–20, contains Ben Sira’s most famous statement on free will.183 After the opening injunction not to blame God for one’s own transgressions (15:11–13), the first reason given is that God “created humankind in the beginning, and he left them in the power of their own free choice” (15:14; “free choice” translates διαβούλιον, which is how the Greek renders ‫)י ֵֶצר‬. The object of this freedom of choice is specified: to “keep the commandments” and to “act faithfully” (15:15). Ben Sira then dramatizes the freedom of choice: “He has placed before you fire and water; stretch out your hand for whichever you choose. Before each person are life and death, and whichever one chooses will be given” (15:16–17). The choice between “life and death” is clearly an allusion to Deut 30:15–20, which of course refers to Israel’s choice to obey the commandments of the covenant. By presenting this choice in the context of the creation of human beings with free will, Ben Sira individualizes and, potentially, universalizes it.184 He leaves open the possibility that keeping the commandments and acting faithfully are the responsibility of all humanity, by virtue of their being created by God. A similarly ambiguous association between the creation of humankind and the giving of the commandments exists in a longer instruction that is often read as Ben Sira’s clearest statement on the place of human beings in creation, 16:24–17:14 (or 16:24–17:20).185 For present purposes, Ben Sira’s statements about the relationship of humankind to the

183 It is worth noting that Ben Sira’s insistence on free will in this section is at odds with the deterministic view of human behavior expressed in 33:10–15. On this lack of consistency, see Collins, Jewish Wisdom, 83–85. 184 Burkes, “Wisdom and Law: Choosing Life,” 263–68. 185 Although 16:24 clearly introduces the passage as a wisdom instruction, it is not clear where the instruction ends. Collins ( Jewish Wisdom, 58–61) would extend the unit as far as 17:20; Skehan and DiLella (Wisdom of Ben Sira, 280–86) treat 16:24–18:14 as one long section divisible into four poems: 16:24–30; 17:1–24; 17:25–32 and 18:1–14. A number of scholars, however, see a break after 17:14, even though they approach the passage from very different perspectives. See Marböck, Weisheit im Wandel, 136–38; Sheppard, Wisdom as a Hermeneutical Construct, 72–83; and Luis Alonso Schökel, “The Vision of Man in Sirach 16:24–17:14,” in Israelite Wisdom: Theological and Literary Essays in Honor of Samuel Terrien (ed. J. G. Gammie et al.; Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press for Union Theological Seminary, 1978), 235–45.

sapiential background of the conflicting theologies

91

rest of creation in 16:26–17:4 must be viewed as background to Ben Sira’s major thesis (developed beginning in 17:6), that human beings were created as moral agents, with an obligation to glorify God. The dominant theme of 17:6–10 is that God created human beings with the powers of perception and cognition in order that they would “proclaim the grandeur of his works” (v. 9). Verse 7 implies a somewhat different purpose of human “knowledge and understanding”: moral judgment, signified by the clause “he showed them good and evil.”186 This latter aspect of knowledge is apparently subordinate in Ben Sira’s mind to the goal of glorifying God, since he connects the two ideas as follows: “He put the fear of him into their hearts, to show them the majesty of his works” (v. 8). The moral dimension of human knowledge is picked up again in v. 11, however: “He bestowed knowledge upon them, and allotted to them the law of life.” There is no clear indication that the temporal setting has shifted from the creation of humankind, or that the recipients of “the law of life” are any other than humanity as a whole. Sheppard points out, however, that the phrase “the law of life” recurs in Sirach only in 45:5, in the context of the revelation to Moses; in both places it is closely connected with “knowledge” (ἐπιστήμη; in 45:5 Heb. ‫)תבונה‬.187 The language of the following verses clearly refers to the Sinai theophany and covenant: “He established with them an eternal covenant, and revealed to them his decrees. Their eyes saw his glorious majesty, and their ears heard the glory of his voice” (17:12–13). Verse 14 is usually read as a summary of the content of the revelation at Sinai, but it seems deliberately vague: “He said to them, ‘Beware of all evil,’ and he gave commandments to each of them concerning the neighbor.” At most we can conclude from this that Ben Sira viewed the Torah primarily as a system of interpersonal ethical prescriptions.

186 Sheppard, who reads the entire passage as an exegesis of Genesis 1–3, takes “good and evil” to be an allusion to the tree in the middle of the Garden of Eden (Wisdom as a Hermeneutical Construct, 79). The fact that the verse says that God “taught” or “showed” human beings “good and evil” forces him to argue that Ben Sira “suppressed” the “complicating detail” of Adam’s transgression (ibid., 80–81). Collins comments, “The most surprising aspect of this meditation on Genesis is that it ignores the sin of Adam completely” ( Jewish Wisdom, 59). If Ben Sira is interpreting the Eden narrative here, he is offering a dramatic revision of it, whereby the knowledge of good and evil was a gift from God and not the result of disobedience. It seems more likely that he is not interpreting the creation narratives per se but is simply drawing upon their language to describe the human condition, as he does in 17:1–4. If so, “he showed them good and evil” is simply a way of referring to the God-given moral sense (cf. 1 Kings 3:9). 187 Sheppard, Wisdom as a Hermeneutical Construct, 81.

92

chapter two

Rather than viewing the focus on the Torah in 17:11–14 as an abrupt shift in theme and scriptural background,188 Alonso Schökel argues that throughout the entire unit Ben Sira “speaks of man in general from the point of view of Israel.”189 That is, the whole discussion of creation is merely background for what Ben Sira wants to say about moral responsibility and the Torah. There is an emphasis on revelation even in his description of the creation of human beings, as Marböck points out: the eyes and ears of v. 13 recall the creation of the senses in v. 6, perhaps implying that receiving the Torah was the primary purpose for which humankind was created.190 Ben Sira is assuming for the sake of his argument in 16:24–17:14 that the Torah given to Israel is equivalent to the “knowledge” given to all human beings. On the other hand, in the verses that follow (17:15, 17, 19–20; vv. 16 and 18 are considered later additions), Ben Sira implies a difference between Israel and other nations in terms of accountability to God for the Torah. While three of these verses repeat the theme that “their ways,” “their works” or “their iniquities” are known to God, without specifying the antecedent of “they” any more than in the foregoing poem, 17:17 rather incongruously alludes to Deut 32:8–9: “He appointed a ruler for every nation, but Israel is the Lord’s own portion.” The placement of this allusion suggests that the implied subject of the other three verses is Israel. To be sure, one would like to know more precisely how Ben Sira understood the relationship of Wisdom/Torah to God’s covenant with Israel, since he shifts so freely from the creation of humanity to the Sinai covenant in the context of his discussion of moral responsibility. Marböck takes the position that Ben Sira viewed the Torah given at Sinai as a particular expression of the divine world-ordering that is revealed in creation, and that he was influenced by the Stoic identification of the order of the cosmos with νόμος. He hastens to add, however, that for Ben Sira this world-order is not an abstract principle, but a revelation of God, provoking praise (cf. 17:8–10).191 Sheppard emphatically dismisses any association with Stoicism or natural law, insisting that Ben Sira’s understanding of Torah is drawn exclusively from the “biblical

188 189 190 191

So Sheppard, Wisdom as a Hermeneutical Construct, 81–82. Alonso Schökel, “Vision of Man,” 243 (emphasis his). Marböck, Weisheit im Wandel, 137. Marböck, Weisheit im Wandel, 137–38.

sapiential background of the conflicting theologies

93

milieu.”192 The question of Stoic influence on Ben Sira is too complex to resolve here,193 but quite apart from that question, Marböck is right to point out that Ben Sira’s understanding of law is inseparable from his theology of creation. On the other hand, Sheppard is right that Ben Sira’s understanding of the Torah must not be divorced from his view of Israel’s history, and especially of the Sinai covenant. Still, the fact that he chooses to present Israel’s particular relationship with God as an extension of the relationship of all humankind to their Creator indicates that creation theology is Ben Sira’s primary frame of reference, in contrast to the wisdom poem in Baruch, where covenant theology is predominant. 3.4

Epistemology

Despite Ben Sira’s emphasis on intellectual capability in his description of the creation of humankind (17:6–7), he cautions against attempting to understand things that are beyond the reach of human knowledge (e.g., 3:21–24, 16:20–23). A frequent theme is that the future is unknowable; Ben Sira expresses this fact in terms of the ways or works of God being hidden from human beings (e.g., 11:4, 16:20, 18:4). Moreover, it is foolish to attempt to discern the future through dreams and divination (34:1–7). Ben Sira’s warning against speculation in 3:21–24 has often been understood as a warning against Greek philosophy,194 but it is more likely that these warnings are directed against speculation about the hidden aspects of the created order and about the remote past and the eschatological future; i.e., the kind of knowledge revealed

Sheppard, Wisdom as a Hermeneutical Construct, 82. Sharon Lea Mattila has argued that Ben Sira’s worldview is best explained as an outgrowth of the Israelite/Ancient Near Eastern wisdom tradition and that it bears only a superficial similarity to that of Stoicism. See her article “Ben Sira and the Stoics: A Reexamination of the Evidence,” JBL 119 (2000): 473–501. Others have detected more significant parallels, however: see Hengel, Judaism and Hellenism, 1:147–50, 159–62, 310; and more recently, David Winston, “Theodicy in Ben Sira and Stoic Philosophy,” in Of Scholars, Savants, and their Texts (ed. R. Link-Salinger; New York: Lang, 1989), 239–49 and O. Kaiser, “Die Rezeption der stoischen Providenz bei Ben Sira,” JNSL 24 (1998): 41–54. 194 Skehan and Di Lella, Wisdom of Ben Sira, 160–61. 192 193

94

chapter two

in 1 Enoch,195 and declared by 4QInstruction to be discernable through contemplation of the raz nihyeh.196 At times Ben Sira seems to suggest that the human craving for knowledge and wisdom can be satisfied by listening to wise proverbs and reflecting on “the statutes of the Lord” (6:32–37; cf. 3:29, 8:8–9). When he speaks from personal experience, however, Ben Sira betrays a more empirical epistemology.197 For example, at the conclusion of his hymn praising God for the glories of creation (42:15–43:33), he remarks, “Many things greater than these lie hidden, for I have seen but few of his works” (43:32). Although the main point here, once again, is that the works of God are beyond human comprehension, Ben Sira also reminds the reader that the foregoing descriptions of the natural world are based on his own observations, as announced in the opening verse: “I will now call to mind the works of the Lord, and will declare what I have seen” (42:15). Further, in the poem praising the scribal profession (38:34–39:11), he suggests that a scribe gains knowledge from experience of the world, even from travel to foreign lands (39:4). Still, the primary object of the scribe’s study is the Torah of the Most High (38:34)—along with “the wisdom of all the ancients” and “prophecies” (39:1; cf. the description of the objects of Ben Sira’s study in his grandson’s Prologue).198 Thus, Ben Sira appears to consider 195 See Argall, 1 Enoch and Sirach, 74–78, 250; Wright, “Fear the Lord and Honor the Priest,” 208–14; idem, “Putting the Puzzle Together: Some Suggestions Concerning the Social Location of the Wisdom of Ben Sira,” in Conflicted Boundaries in Wisdom and Apocalypticism (ed. Wright and Wills), 96–102. On the other hand, Ben Sira does allow that God reveals “the traces of hidden things” to human beings (42:19), and that Wisdom reveals “secrets” to her “children” (4:18; cf. 4:11) and also that the prophet Isaiah “revealed what was to occur to the end of time, and the hidden things before they happened.” On these passages as a challenge to Wright’s and Argall’s interpretation of Sir 3:21–24, see James K. Aitken, “Apocalyptic, Revelation and Early Jewish Wisdom Literature,” in New Heaven and New Earth: Prophecy and the Millenium (ed. P. J. Harland and C. T. R. Hayward; Leiden: Brill, 1999), 188–90. It is not inconsistent, however, for Ben Sira to have discouraged his students from pursuing investigations into the mysteries of creation and the divine plan, and at the same time to have maintained that such mysteries could be revealed to select individuals at the divine discretion. 196 Goff, “Mystery of Creation,” 177. 197 On Ben Sira’s epistemology, and particularly his personal testimony, see Shannon Burkes, God, Self and Death: The Shape of Religious Transformation in the Second Temple Period ( JSJSup 79; Leiden: Brill, 2003), 102–9; on the function of the first-person references in Sirach, see Jan Liesen, “Strategical Self-References in Ben Sira,” in Treasures of Wisdom: Studies in Ben Sira and the Book of Wisdom (Festschrift M. Gilbert) (ed. N. Calduch-Benages and J. Vermeylen; BETL 143; Leuven: Leuven University Press, 1999), 63–74. 198 The Prologue to Ben Sira is one of the earliest texts to refer (three times!) to “the Law and the Prophets,” followed by a third group of books without a fixed designation:

sapiential background of the conflicting theologies

95

the traditions of Israel the primary, but not the exclusive, source of his own wisdom. By contrast, the wisdom poem in Baruch implies that the Torah is the sole source of wisdom that is available to human beings. The Greek version uses four different terms, all grammatically feminine, apparently all to refer to the same entity, personified Wisdom: σοφία, φρόνησις, σύνεσις, and ἐπιστήμη.199 By using these terms interchangeably, the poet makes the rhetorical point that all human striving for wisdom, knowledge or understanding is futile—a more pessimistic stance than even that of Job 28. The implied opponent in Baruch 3:15–31 is probably the international wisdom tradition of the ancient Near East, with its assumption of a universal wisdom based in human experience. It is possible, however, that by mentioning the giants in v. 26, the poet means to allude to the myth reflected in 1 Enoch 7. If so, the point may be that even knowledge from a supernatural source (the Watchers) is useless (or worse), since it did not lead to “life” for the giants (3:28; cf. 3:9, 14; 4:1).200 The point of repudiating other sources of knowledge is to elevate the Torah as the sole, all-sufficient “way to knowledge/ understanding” (3:37 LXX) for Israel. Baruch goes a step further than either Sirach 24 or Deut 4:6–8 in claiming Israel’s exclusive possession of wisdom in the form of the Torah.

“the others that followed them,” “the other books of our ancestors,” and “the rest of the books.” It is not clear that Ben Sira’s “the wisdom of all the ancients” (39:1) should be equated with his grandson’s third category of books, which was presumably limited to Israelite/Jewish texts. J. L. Ska has argued that the Praise of the Fathers basically follows the Jewish canonical order of the Torah, Former Prophets, Major Prophets and Book of the Twelve, so the second part of the Jewish canon, as well as the first, must have been fairly well established in Ben Sira’s time, while the third division, the Writings, was still quite fluid, as it apparently was even in Ben Sira’s grandson’s time. See his essay “L’Éloge des Pères dans le Siracide (Si 44–50) et le Canon de L’Ancien Testament,” in Treasures of Wisdom (ed. Calduch-Benages and Vermeylen), 181–93. Differently, Carr (Writing on the Tablet of the Heart, 260–67) draws a distinction between Ben Sira’s own mention of “prophecies” in the context of a list that also includes “sayings of the famous,” “parables” and “proverbs” (39:1–3) and the clearly-defined category “the Prophets” in the grandson’s prologue. He dates the formation of that category, which he believes also included the Psalms and a number of other books later included among the Writings, to the Hasmonean period. 199 Saldarini, “Baruch” in NIB, 6:961. Burke (Poetry of Baruch, 65–75) retro-translates these four to three grammatically feminine Hebrew terms: ‫( חכמה‬for σοφία), ‫תבונה‬ (for φρόνησις) and ‫( בינה‬for σύνεσις and ἐπιστήμη). 200 Saldarini, “Baruch” in NIB, 6:966.

96

chapter two 3.5

Divine Judgment and Mercy

The wisdom poem in Baruch does not directly address the themes of divine judgment and mercy, although these are the predominant concerns of the other two sections of Baruch. One could argue that in the context of Baruch as a whole, the gift of the Torah is proof of God’s mercy to Israel, or justification for their punishment, but it is not certain that the wisdom poem was composed with the concerns of the other two parts of the book in mind. For the wisdom poet to present the giving of the Torah as an instance of divine mercy would inevitably raise the troubling question of why God did not show mercy to the “seekers for understanding” from other nations (3:23). For Ben Sira, however, with his passionate concern for theodicy, the themes of divine judgment and mercy are of paramount importance.201 Compared with the earlier wisdom books, Ben Sira is much more concerned with divine mercy and compassion on humankind.202 The theme of mercy is introduced near the beginning of the book (2:7, 9, 11, 18) and is the main subject of the prayer that concludes the book (chapter 51), which may or may not be by Ben Sira. Although the Praise of the Fathers ends with a prayer for mercy on Israel (50:22–24), and Israel is also the intended object of God’s mercy in the prayer in 36:1–22 and probably also in 35:22b–26 (see below), Ben Sira also refers specifically to God’s mercy on all humankind (17:29–30; 18:7–14). The common theme of these references is that God shows mercy to human beings because they are limited and mortal.203 Along the same lines, Ben Sira suggests that whoever, mindful of his or her own mortality, forgives the sins of a neighbor, can expect forgiveness from God (28:2–6). At the same time, Ben Sira cautions against relying too much on God’s mercy and delaying to repent (5:4–7). At least as important to Ben Sira as God’s mercy is the belief that God’s judgments are just, and that no sinner goes unpunished (despite appearances to the contrary).204 201 A full discussion of these themes in Sirach is not possible here, but a few key passages will be noted. On the centrality of these themes to Ben Sira, see Crenshaw, Old Testament Wisdom, 140–42, 159–61; Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism, 333–41. On the theme of judgment, see Argall, 1 Enoch and Sirach, 211–47. 202 Crenshaw, Old Testament Wisdom, 161; idem; “The Concept of God in Old Testament Wisdom,” in In Search of Wisdom (ed. Perdue, Scott and Wiseman), 1–18. 203 Levison, Portraits of Adam, 36–41; Leo G. Perdue, Wisdom and Creation: The Theology of the Wisdom Literature (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1994), 263–64. 204 E. P. Sanders suggests that “the heart of Ben Sirach’s religion may be described as confidence in God’s justice tempered by confidence in his mercy” (Paul and Palestinian Judaism, 334).

sapiential background of the conflicting theologies

97

“Great as his mercy is his punishment; he judges people, each according to his deeds. A criminal does not escape with his plunder; a just person’s hope God does not leave unfulfilled” (16:12–13, Skehan and Di Lella’s translation). Because he does not believe in post-mortem reward and punishment, Ben Sira argues strenuously that wicked individuals are punished during their lifetimes or, if nothing else, on the day of death itself.205 Crenshaw has argued that Ben Sira contributed two new responses to the problem of theodicy: a psychological argument that sinners suffer inwardly, especially at the hour of death, and a metaphysical argument that the universe is constituted out of opposites so as to reward the righteous and punish the wicked (39:12–35; 42:23–25).206 Ben Sira’s creation-based theology clearly informs the latter argument (e.g., “No one can say, ‘What is this?’ or ‘Why is that?’—for everything has been created for its own purpose,” 39:21, cf. 39:17, 34). The prayer in Sirach 36:1–22 (NRSV numbering) is the most obvious exception to Ben Sira’s focus on the judgment of individual sinners. Despite being addressed (in 36:1) to the “God of all” (‫אלהי הכל‬, ὁ θεὸς πάντων; Skehan and Di Lella translate “God of the universe”),207 the prayer is a petition to God to fight against “foreign nations” (36:2) and to restore “the tribes of Jacob” (36:13, 16) and Jerusalem (36:17– 19) to their former glory. The prayer stands out from the rest of Sirach with respect both to its hostility toward other nations and to its “eschatological fervor,” hence Collins has argued that it is probably a later addition to the book, most likely at the time of the Maccabean crisis.208 If the author of 4 Ezra knew Ben Sira’s book, however, he knew this prayer as part of it, so a hope for the future destruction of

On Ben Sira’s complex view of death, see Burkes, God, Self and Death, 109–17. Crenshaw, Old Testament Wisdom, 159–60; his argument is developed more fully in “The Problem of Theodicy in Sirach: On Human Bondage,” JBL 94 (1975): 47–64. He mentions both responses but does not develop them further in his most recent exploration of biblical theodicies, Defending God: Biblical Responses to the Problem of Evil (New York: Oxford University Press, 2005), 100. See also the discussion of Collins in Jewish Wisdom, 84–95, who concludes that “Sirach’s most original and substantial contribution to the discussion of theodicy lies in his theory that there is a duality inherent in creation that serves the purposes of God.” 207 Argall (1 Enoch and Sirach, 216–17) points out that “God of all” here apparently refers to God’s “universal sovereignty” over “all the nations” (cf. 36:2), rather than over creation, which has no role to play in the eschatological battle envisioned here. Contrast with 39:16–35, where Ben Sira argues that bad things were created for judgment (or vengeance) on the wicked. 208 Collins, Jewish Wisdom, 109–11, following T. Middendorp, Die Stellung Jesu Ben Siras zwischen Judentum und Hellenismus (Leiden: Brill, 1973), 125–32. Crenshaw, Old Testament Wisdom, 141, agrees. 205 206

98

chapter two

Israel’s enemies must be considered part of the tradition of covenantal wisdom that he inherited. The prayer is closely related in theme and imagery to the previous poem (35:22b–26), but there Ben Sira mentions “the nations” only once (35:23a), and otherwise uses more universal language (e.g., “Till he requites humankind according to its deeds, and repays people according to their thoughts,” 35:24, Skehan and Di Lella’s translation).209 In both poems, the themes of God’s vengeance on enemies and mercy on his own people (and city, in 36:18–19) are necessarily related (the former being seen as evidence of the latter), but both poems end with the gentler, more hopeful language of mercy (35:25–26; 36:13–22). 3.6

The Place of Sirach and Baruch 3:9–4:4 in the Wisdom Tradition

Despite his grounding in the creation-based theology of the biblical wisdom tradition, Ben Sira set a new direction for Jewish wisdom by introducing into it the covenantal theology of the Torah and Prophets. His identification of Torah with Wisdom was facilitated by the affinities between Deuteronomy and the wisdom tradition. Ben Sira’s own approach to reconciling the particularism of covenantal theology with the universalism of a creation-based wisdom theology is to present Israel’s religious experience and insights as if they were shared by humanity in general (as is particularly apparent in 15:14–20 and 17:1–14).210 Except in the “Praise of the Fathers,” he minimizes the uniqueness of Israel’s experience of God’s acts in history, addressing his instruction to “all who seek wisdom” (24:34; cf. 33:18) rather than to Israel. By contrast, in the wisdom poem of Baruch, traditional wisdom language is pressed into the service of Deuteronomic covenant theology. The author assumes that Torah-wisdom benefits Israel alone, and implies that there is no other source of knowledge that is worth pursuing. In spite of their differences, Sirach and Baruch 3:9–4:4 are both witnesses to a shift that took place in the scribal wisdom tradition as the result of the earlier emergence of Torah piety.211 Sirach and the wisdom poem of Baruch can be considered early examples of the covenantalizing 209 On the divine warrior imagery in both poems, see Argall, 1 Enoch and Sirach, 211–19; Skehan and Di Lella, Wisdom of Ben Sira, 420–22. 210 A passage that is apparently central to his thought (cf. 17:17, 24:12) is Deut 32:8–9, which situates God’s election of Israel in the context of his dominion over all the peoples of the world. 211 See above, notes 11 and 12.

sapiential background of the conflicting theologies

99

of Jewish wisdom that appears to have taken place among the scribal sages of Palestine during the Hellenistic period.212 As the sage gradually became identified as an interpreter of Scripture, the language of wisdom was used more and more in the service of the dominant covenant theology of the Torah and prophets.213 Sirach and Baruch belong to a trajectory that culminates in rabbinic Judaism, but as it happens there is little textual evidence for the progressive “covenantalizing” of Jewish wisdom in the intervening centuries.214 Nevertheless, covenantal 212 This presumed social context for covenantal wisdom is admittedly somewhat speculative, but it is generally assumed that Ben Sira was a scribe, based on his praise of the scribal profession in 38:24–39:11. Similarly, it is likely that only a scribe would have chosen Baruch as a pseudonym. More generally, if Ben Sira’s contention that only the scribes had the leisure to study “the law of the Most High” and “the wisdom of all the ancients” (38:34–39:1) is credible (and to most scholars it is), then only scribes could have produced the fusion of ancient Israelite wisdom and biblical interpretation that is covenantal wisdom. 213 If a text like the Mishnah tractate Avot can be considered a late example of Jewish wisdom literature because of the proverbial form of many of the sayings, it is nevertheless obvious that in it, as in most rabbinic texts, covenantal theology predominates. The sixth chapter, which is a later addition to the Mishnah tractate, constitutes an exception of sorts: its theme is the study of Torah, and since Torah was thoroughly identified with Wisdom by the rabbis, most of the biblical texts cited in support of this theme come from Proverbs. Fishbane (“From Scribalism to Rabbinism,” 454–55) points out how strikingly the first saying of the chapter recalls Sir 24:30–34. Likewise, the final saying of the chapter recalls the theme of Ben Sira’s Hymn to the Creator (42:15–43:33): “Whatsoever the Holy One, blessed be he, created in his world, he created but for his glory” (m. Avot 6:12). On m. Avot as a development of the Hebrew wisdom tradition, see Isaac B. Gottlieb, “Pirqe Avot and Biblical Wisdom,” VT 40 (1990): 152–64; M. B. Lerner, “The Tractate Avot,” in The Literature of the Sages (ed. Shmuel Safrai; 2 vols. CRINT 2/3a; Assen: Van Gorcum; Philadelphia: Fortress, 1987), 1:267–70, and on the secondary nature of the sixth chapter, see ibid., 1:273–75. 214 Although the second half of the Wisdom of Solomon is devoted to a reflection on the Exodus story, and it concludes “For in everything, O Lord, you have exalted and glorified your people, and you have not neglected to help them at all times and in all places” (19:22), it does not belong to the same trajectory that culminates in the rabbinic literature. For one thing, it avoids any explicit mention of Israel or of any biblical figure apart from Solomon. More importantly, it is heavily influenced by Hellenistic philosophy and is addressed to a Hellenized audience, probably the Jews of Alexandria. Finally, it is also an example of eschatological wisdom. Gammie (“From Prudentialism to Apocalypticism,” 490, 494–97) treats “the eschatologization of wisdom” as the final phase of the nationalization of wisdom, but that is because the only example of eschatological wisdom that he considers is the Wisdom of Solomon. Since the publication of 4QInstruction, it has come to light that this shift began much earlier and was independent of the “covenantalizing” of wisdom. The Wisdom of Solomon shows that covenantal and eschatological wisdom could be combined, but it is a special case because its arguments are shaped as much by Hellenistic philosophy as by the Israelite wisdom tradition. On the difficulty of classifying the Wisdom of Solomon, see Shannon Burkes, “Wisdom and Apocalypticism in the Wisdom of Solomon,” HTR 95 (2002): 21–22, 40–44.

100

chapter two

wisdom may have been taught in scribal schools in Roman Palestine right up to 70 c.e.215 The argument that Ezra’s position in the dialogues reflects a background in covenantal wisdom does not presuppose that the author of 4 Ezra was familiar with Sirach and Baruch, although it seems likely that he at least knew of Ben Sira, who was also known to the rabbinic sages.216 Rather, the following chapter argues that Ezra’s arguments in the dialogues share many assumptions with the two examples of covenantal wisdom surveyed here, while differing from them on some significant points. Whether the author was attempting to represent actual arguments made by first-century c.e. sages in the tradition of covenantal wisdom, or simply reflecting on a textual tradition, is a question addressed in the concluding chapter.

215 Jacob Neusner sees Ben Sira as a representative of “scribism as an ideology, not merely a profession,” and assumes the continuity of that ideology among scribes of the first century c.e., some of whom he believes were included among the rabbinic sages at Yavneh. See his article “The Formation of Rabbinic Judaism: Yavneh ( Jamnia) from a.d. 70 to 100,” in ANRW 19.2:3–42, especially 37–41. 216 On the extent and forms of rabbinic knowledge of Ben Sira, see Benjamin G. Wright, “B. Sanhedrin 100b and Rabbinic Knowledge of Ben Sira,” in Treasures of Wisdom (ed. Calduch-Benages and Vermeylen), 41–50.

CHAPTER THREE

THE DIALOGUES OF 4 EZRA AS A WISDOM DEBATE 1. Introduction Despite the fact that the first three episodes have been the primary focus of many scholarly treatments of 4 Ezra, the implications of the author’s choice of the dialogue form have received relatively little attention. It is true that dialogue between a visionary and an angel can be found in many apocalypses, but the character of much of the dialogue between Ezra and Uriel in the first three episodes of 4 Ezra is quite different from the interludes of reassurance or the question-andanswer exchanges of other apocalypses.1 While Uriel presents himself as a teacher of wisdom, Ezra does not readily accept instruction. Not only does Ezra raise questions of theodicy for which Uriel has no intellectually satisfying answers, he even disputes the answers the angel does offer, using sapiential language and arguments. In that Ezra and Uriel both make persuasive arguments that are grounded in distinct sapiential backgrounds, the first three episodes project a “dialogic” sense of truth, in Bakhtin’s sense of the word.2 That is, the author of 4 Ezra has brought two conflicting theologies or worldviews into conversation with one another without allowing either point of view to prevail over the other. There is no “finalizing discourse” 1 Compare, for example, Dan 7:15–27, 8:15–26, 9:20–27, 10:10–21; Enoch’s questions to his angelic guides on his otherworldly journey in the Book of the Watchers (1 En. 21–25, 27, 32); the brief exchanges between Enoch and angels in the Similitudes (1 En. 40, 43, 46, 52–54, 60, 61); the humble requests and inquiries by Abraham in Apoc. Ab. (9–32, passim). The apocalypse that comes closest to 4 Ezra in its use of dialogue is 2 Baruch, but even though Baruch laments and asks pointed questions of God, he generally accepts the answers he receives, both from the divine voice and from the angel Ramael in 55–76. 2 Mikhail Bakhtin, Problems of Dostoevsky’s Poetics (ed. and trans. C. Emerson; Theory and History of Literature 8; Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1984); idem, The Dialogic Imagination: Four Essays (ed. M. Holquist, trans. C. Emerson and M. Holquist; Austin: University of Texas Press, 1981). See also G. S. Morson and C. Emerson, Mikhail Bakhtin: The Creation of a Prosaics (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1990); Barbara Green, Mikhail Bakhtin and Biblical Scholarship: An Introduction (SemeiaSt 38; Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2000); Carol A. Newsom, “Bakhtin, the Bible and Dialogic Truth,” JR 76 (1996): 290–306.

102

chapter three

that enables the reader to draw a definite conclusion or to decide with which of the two interlocutors the author identifies; rather the dialogue seems to exist “as an end in itself.”3 Fourth Ezra as a whole does not conform to the pattern of Dostoevsky’s polyphonic novel, because the three visions bring about a transformation in Ezra’s worldview, and the epilogue clearly aims at closure.4 Yet there is an element of polyphony in the book as a whole, in that the visions introduce a new theological perspective that does not cohere fully with either point of view presented in the dialogues. They also do not provide rational answers to the questions left hanging by the dialogues. Ezra’s skeptical stance and dogged persistence in arguing with Uriel have often led scholars to compare him to Job. The several clear allusions to the book of Job in the dialogues (see below, section 2) suggest that the author had that book in mind when he wrote the dialogues. The present chapter argues that in form and function, the first three episodes are essentially a wisdom dialogue or debate, not unlike the one between Job and his friends.5 The fact that the human protagonist is debating with an angel (who sometimes collapses the distinction between himself and the Most High) instead of his peers has surprisingly little effect on the outcome of the dialogues.6 At the end of the third dialogue, Ezra remains unconvinced of God’s justice and more despairing of the ultimate salvation of Israel than he was at the beginning. Nor does Ezra at any point repent of his complaints or admit to error, although his reaction to the first vision, “For I have seen what I did not know, and I have heard what I do not understand” (10:35, Stone’s translation) is probably meant to recall Job’s words of repentance after God’s second speech from the whirlwind (42:2–6).7 Bakhtin, Problems, 251–52. In the polyphonic novel, the characters are “not only objects of authorial discourse but also subjects of their own directly signifying discourse” (Bakhtin, Problems, 7). The author maintains a “thoroughly consistent dialogic position” relative to the hero [Bakhtin’s term for the protagonist], who is a “fully autonomous ‘thou’ ”—in other words, the author does not seek to objectify, define or “finalize” the hero’s consciousness (ibid., 63–68). See Morson and Emerson, Mikhail Bakhtin, 231–68 (251–56 on the lack of closure in the ideal polyphonic novel); Green, Bakhtin and Biblical Scholarship, 36–39. 5 On the genre of the wisdom dialogue and its relationship to Bakhtin’s understanding of dialogic truth, see Carol A. Newsom, The Book of Job: A Contest of Moral Imaginations (New York: Oxford University Press, 2003), 79–89. 6 Shannon Burkes, God, Self and Death: The Shape of Religious Transformation in the Second Temple Period ( JSJSup 79; Leiden: Brill, 2003), 193. 7 Edith McEwan Humphrey, The Ladies and the Cities: Transformation and Apocalyptic Identity in Joseph and Aseneth, 4 Ezra, the Apocalypse and the Shepherd of Hermas ( JSPSup 17; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1995), 64. 3 4

the dialogues of 4 ezra as a wisdom debate

103

2. Narrative Overview of the Dialogues Each of the three dialogues, as well as the pivotal fourth episode, begins with an address to God by Ezra. Although the tone of these addresses varies and they certainly contain elements of praise, they can legitimately be called “laments” for two reasons.8 First, each is introduced by a notice of Ezra’s distressed state of mind (e.g., 3:3, “My spirit was greatly agitated, and I began to speak anxious words to the Most High . . .”; cf. 5:21, 6:36–37 and 9:27). More importantly, each ends with a challenging question or complaint (although in the case of the fourth lament, the challenge is implicit). The first two dialogues have a parallel structure: the opening lament is followed by a dispute between Ezra and the angel Uriel, in which Ezra does not readily accept Uriel’s responses. The tone then shifts when Uriel begins to make eschatological predictions: Ezra’s questions become more docile, simply requesting more information. The third, much longer dialogue has a more complex structure: there are four rounds of dispute, alternating with three sets of predictions and a lengthy second monologue by Ezra that functions (like the laments) to advance his side of the argument.9 The first lament (3:4–36) may be read as a parody of the covenant rîb form, since Ezra uses a selective recital of Heilsgeschichte (from the creation of Adam to the fall of Jerusalem to Babylon) to indict God, not Israel.10 In it he raises two interrelated questions, neither of which

When specifically noted, as here, the translation of 4 Ezra is from Michael E. Stone, Fourth Ezra: A Commentary on the Book of Fourth Ezra (Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Fortress, 1990). Otherwise, I have chosen to follow the NRSV translation whenever it is substantially the same as Stone’s translation, because it uses modern English grammar; Stone follows the RSV in preserving “King James” English to some degree. 8 C. Westermann, “Struktur und Geschichte der Klage im Alten Testament,” ZAW 66/n.s. 25 (1954): 44–80 (especially 77–79 on 4 Ezra). He remarks (49) that the communal lament (“Klage des Volkes”) is a fundamental “Leitmotiv” in 4 Ezra, just as the individual lament is in Job. This distinction is justified, because in his laments Ezra consistently speaks on behalf of Israel (see 8:15–16). 9 See the structure proposed by Stone, Fourth Ezra, 50–51. Stone divides the dialogues into “dispute” and “prediction” sections based on the tone of Ezra’s questions. While the distinction between dispute and prediction is helpful for describing the shifting tone of the dialogues, it is worth noting that in the third dialogue Ezra occasionally raises objections even in the context of predictive sections: 7:106–111, 8:42–45. 10 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 61. He observes that the combination of a recital of the mighty acts of God with an indictment of God is unique to 4 Ezra. Stone mentions the formal similarity of 4 Ezra 3:4–36 to a covenant rîb, but does not call it a parody. See also P. G. R. de Villiers, “Understanding the Way of God: Form, Function and Message of the Historical Review in 4 Ezra 3:4–27,” in SBL Seminar Papers, 1981 (SBLSP 20; Chico, Calif.: Scholars Press, 1981), 357–78.

104

chapter three

Uriel ever answers to his satisfaction. In asking, “When have the inhabitants of the earth not sinned in your sight?” (3:35), he alludes to his claim that Adam and “all who were descended from him” transgressed because they were “burdened with an evil heart” (3:20–21, 25–26). The other question, “Are the deeds of Babylon better than those of Zion? (3:31) sharpens his complaint against God: given that God “did not take away their evil heart from them” (3:20), why is God punishing his own people, who surely have kept his commandments as well or better than other nations (3:33–36)? Ezra’s assumption that the defeat of Israel by “Babylon” is the result of their failure to keep the commandments of the covenant is consistent with Deuteronomic theology, as is his general pessimism about the ability of anyone to keep the commandments.11 Ezra places his complaint about the fate of Israel in the context of a lament about the universal sinfulness of human nature, however, recalling Ben Sira’s tendency to use universal language even when he is thinking primarily about Israel (see above, chapter II, section 3.3). Uriel appears in response to Ezra’s first lament, but rather than answering any of the questions Ezra raised, he rebukes him: “Your understanding is quite confounded regarding this world, and do you wish to comprehend the way of the Most High?” (4:2, Stone’s translation). Ezra boldly answers in the affirmative, provoking Uriel to demonstrate to him his lack of understanding by offering to “teach” Ezra what he wants to know, provided he can “solve” one of three “problems”: “Go, weigh for me the weight of fire, or measure for me a blast of wind, or call back for me the day that is past” (4:3–5).12 When Ezra

11 On the Deuteronomic basis of Ezra’s theology, see John J. Collins, The Apocalyptic Imagination: An Introduction to Jewish Apocalyptic Literature (2nd ed.; Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1998), 211. Dennis T. Olson observes that Deuteronomy 28:45–48 transforms the “covenant curses” (28:15–44) from a threat to a foregone conclusion, and argues that even the more hopeful “new covenant” at Moab introduced in chapters 29–32 assumes the inevitability of human rebellion. See his Deuteronomy and the Death of Moses: A Theological Reading (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1994), 122–3, 154. J. Gary Millar makes a more sustained argument that Deuteronomy is basically pessimistic about human nature, or about Israel’s ability to obey the commandments, in Now Choose Life: Theology and Ethics in Deuteronomy (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1998), 161–80. 12 Stone has shown that the “unanswerable questions” in 4:5, 7 and the parallel list of adunata in the second dialogue (5:36–37) have parallels in lists of things revealed to other seers. See his essay “Lists of Revealed Things in the Apocalyptic Literature,” in Magnalia Dei, The Mighty Acts of God: Essays on the Bible and Archaeology in Memory of G. Ernest Wright (ed. F. M. Cross, W. E. Lemke and P. D. Miller, Jr.; Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1976), 414–52.

the dialogues of 4 ezra as a wisdom debate

105

objects, Uriel comes back with a second set of unanswerable questions (4:7), which allude to the divine speech from the whirlwind in Job ( Job 38:16–17).13 Uriel proceeds to draw an artificial distinction between the first set of “problems” and the second, in order to make the point: “You cannot understand the things with which you have grown up [viz., fire, wind and the day]; how then can your mind comprehend the way of the Most High?” (4:9–11). Clearly the purpose of Uriel’s rhetoric is to reduce Ezra to a state of passive docility, but Ezra refuses to give up his skeptical and argumentative stance, even when the same pattern is repeated in the second dialogue (5:36–40). Uriel continues to use sapiential formulas to establish his authority as an instructor (e.g., 5:32, 7:2, 7:49), but Ezra never fully accepts the role of pupil. Rather, he vacillates between challenging Uriel’s theological claims in the dispute sections of the dialogues and accepting his eschatological revelations in the prediction sections. Uriel’s method of instructing Ezra is consistent in both the dispute and prediction sections: he asks a question (or tells a parable) about natural phenomena or some other everyday experience, leads Ezra to draw a logical inference from it, and then proceeds to use that inference analogically to make his point. This method is consistent with the sapiential assumption that the divine plan is revealed in the natural order, and it resembles the pedagogical use of natural phenomena in 1 Enoch 2–5 and the beginning of 4QInstruction (4Q416 1).14 For example, in the first dialogue Uriel tells a parable about the forests and the waves each planning a war of conquest against the other, and asks Ezra to judge between them (4:13–18). Ezra answers, “Each has made a foolish plan, for the land is assigned to the forest, and to the sea is assigned Stone, Fourth Ezra, 84. See chapter II, section 2.1, especially note 38. See Michael E. Stone, “The Parabolic Use of the Natural Order in Judaism of the Second Temple Age,” in Selected Studies in Pseudepigrapha and Apocrypha, with Special Reference to the Armenian Tradition (SVTP 9; Leiden: Brill, 1991), 457–67. The most complete catalogue of such passages is in George W. E. Nickelsburg, 1 Enoch 1: A Commentary on the Book of 1 Enoch, Chapters 1–36; 81–108 (Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Fortress, 2001), 152–55. A similar pedagogical use of natural phenomena by rabbinic sages is attested in the commentary on Deut 32:1, Sifre Deuteronomy § 306, on which see Steven D. Fraade, From Tradition to Commentary: Torah and Its Interpretation in the Midrash Sifre to Deuteronomy (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1991), 128–62. Many of Jesus’ parables in the gospels make use of analogies to natural phenomena, of course, and these are more similar to Uriel’s instruction because of their eschatological orientation. In Luke 12:54–56, for instance, Jesus explicitly compares the prediction of the end to predicting the weather by observing the sky. 13 14

106

chapter three

a place to carry its waves” (4:19, Stone’s translation). The analogical method enables Uriel to instruct Ezra about the world to come and the way of the Most High while ostensibly asking him to think and reason only about the phenomena of this world, since the conclusion he draws from this parable is that “those who inhabit the earth can understand only what is on the earth, and he who is above the heavens can understand what is above the height of the heavens” (4:21). After Ezra objects that he was not asking about things above the heavens, but rather “about those things that we daily experience” (4:23)—that is, the disaster that has befallen Israel—he asks what God plans to do for the sake of his name (4:25). It is at this point that the dialogue shifts to a predictive question-and-answer mode that is more typical of apocalypses. Ignoring Ezra’s central concern with the fate of Israel, Uriel begins to talk about the final judgment, developing the agricultural metaphor Ezra had used concerning the “evil heart” (4:28–32; cf. 3:20–22, and see below, section 3.1). Ezra does not drop his complaining tone, but his questions for the remainder of the first dialogue pertain to the timing of the final judgment: “How long and when will these things be? For our years are few and evil” (4:33, Stone’s translation). Although Ezra does not dispute Uriel’s answers but instead requests more information, Uriel continues to present his answers in the form of arguments from nature (see below, section 3.2). The dialogue ends with a catalogue of eschatological “signs” (5:1–12), many of which are disruptions of the natural order. Ezra’s second lament (5:23–30) assembles a series of biblical metaphors that use nature imagery to symbolize the election of Israel. The conclusion of the series is that God proved his love for this “one people” out of “all the multitude of peoples” by giving them “the law that is approved by all” (5:27)—surely an allusion to Deut 4:6–8. The point of the catalogue of metaphors for election is to accuse God of breaking the covenant: “And now, O Lord, why have you handed the one over to the many, and dishonored the one root beyond the others, and scattered your only one among the many?” (5:28). Ezra’s highly rhetorical challenge to God, “If you really hate your own people, they should be punished at your own hands” (5:30) sounds either naïve or disingenuous from a Deuteronomic perspective, since according to the covenant curses in Deuteronomy 28, enemy nations are supposed to be agents of divine wrath. Ezra’s assumption that God now hates his people points to a Joban perspective, in which God’s love and benevolence can no longer be assumed; cf. Job 16:9 (NRSV): “[God]

the dialogues of 4 ezra as a wisdom debate

107

has torn me in his wrath, and hated me; he has gnashed his teeth at me; my adversary sharpens his eyes against me.”15 When Uriel again denies that Ezra can understand the way of the Most High, Ezra cries out in words reminiscent of Job, “Why then was I born? Or why did not my mother’s womb become my grave, so that I would not see the travail of Jacob and the exhaustion of the people of Israel?” (5:35; cf. 4:12 and Job 3:1–19, 10:18–19). Uriel responds with another series of impossible tasks, prompting Ezra to cry out, “O sovereign Lord, who is able to know these things except him whose dwelling is not with mortals? As for me, I am without wisdom, and how can I speak concerning the things that you have asked me?” (5:38–39). Ezra’s claim to be “without wisdom” should not be taken too generally; just a few verses earlier he declared himself to be continually striving “to understand the way of the Most High and to search out some part of his judgment” (5:34). Uriel echoes these words near the end of the book when he commends Ezra, “. . . you alone have been enlightened about this, because you have forsaken your own ways and have applied yourself to mine, and have searched out my law; for you have devoted your life to wisdom, and called understanding your mother” (13:53–55). With respect to the “revealed things” about which Uriel asks, Ezra readily admits to being “without wisdom,” but he persists in believing that God’s actions in the human realm are legitimate objects of human inquiry (see further below, section 3.2). In this way, he resembles Ben Sira, who devotes considerable energy to theodicy but cautions against speculation about “what is hidden” (3:21–24, 16:20–23; cf. chapter II, section 3.4 above).16 Uriel, for his part, makes no claim to omniscience, and both of the first two dialogues end with reminders that he is distinct from the Most High. In response to Ezra’s last question in the first dialogue, Uriel says, “Concerning the signs about which you ask me, I can tell you in part; but I was not sent to tell you concerning your life, for I do not know” (4:52). At the end of the second dialogue, Uriel announces that Ezra will hear “a full, resounding voice” (6:13) speaking about the signs of 15 Pace Stone (Fourth Ezra, 132), who reads this verse as an indication of Ezra’s faith in divine mercy, drawing on the topos of preferring divine to human punishment (2 Sam 24:14, Sir 2:18, Ps Sol 7). 16 On the theme of the limits of human knowledge in Israelite wisdom, including the exploration of that theme in the dialogues of 4 Ezra, see James L. Crenshaw, “Probing the Unknown: Knowledge and the Sacred,” in Education in Ancient Israel: Across the Deadening Silence (ABRL; New York: Doubleday, 1998), 255–77.

108

chapter three

the end, and in fact the voice sounds to Ezra like “the sound of mighty [or many] waters” (6:17), which indicates that it is the divine voice (cf. Jer 51:16, Ezek 1:24, 43:2, Rev 1:14, 15:2). On the other hand, Ezra frequently addresses Uriel as “Lord” or “sovereign Lord,” and Uriel sometimes speaks for God in the first person, most dramatically in 6:6, where he claims that the world was created “through me alone and not through another, just as the end shall come through me alone and not through another” (cf. 5:40, 9:20–22). This tension is never resolved; rather, Uriel gradually fades from view in the visions and by the final episode Ezra converses directly with the Most High. A related problem is that Uriel continually emphasizes the complete disjunction between the present world and the world to come, even as he relies on analogies to the phenomena of this world to explain the realities of the world to come. Stone’s claim that the author was unaware of the contradiction inherent in Uriel’s manner of instruction about the end is debatable.17 Although Ezra does not question the validity of Uriel’s analogies on the basis of their inconsistency with his eschatological revelations,18 Ezra’s lament at the beginning of the fourth episode is a parody of Uriel’s style of argument by analogy that leads to a conclusion that is contrary to everyday experience (see below, section 5). Moreover, the author seems to draw attention to the problem with Uriel’s analogies when he uses the more authoritative divine voice to announce the second set of “signs” of the end (6:17–27). These “signs” include the overturning of the normal rules of childbirth and agriculture (6:21–22), which are favorite sources of analogies for Uriel. As if to underscore the disjunction between the order of this world and the end times, Uriel warns Ezra that when the divine voice is heard,

17 Stone (Fourth Ezra, 102) comments “. . . our author seems to be as innocent of this contradiction as he is innocent of the dualism of matter and spirit.” These two things are scarcely parallel; the former is a simple logical contradiction while the latter is presumably the result of either ignorance or rejection of the influence of Greco-Roman philosophy. Whether the author of 4 Ezra was entirely “innocent” of matter-spirit or mind-body dualism is not certain; see Stefan Beyerle, Die Gottesvorstellungen in der antikjüdischen Apokalyptik ( JSJSup 103; Leiden: Brill, 2005), 269–314, especially 310–11 on 4 Ezra 7:75–101. For a convenient summary of the range of Greco-Roman philosophical views on matter, spirit, mind and body (which do not conform to the Cartesian dichotomy of matter/body vs. spirit/mind), see Dale M. Martin, The Corinthian Body (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1995), 6–15. 18 Only once does he question one of Uriel’s analogies (8:42–45), and that is on the basis of his belief that God cares for every human being he creates.

the dialogues of 4 ezra as a wisdom debate

109

“the foundations of the earth . . . will tremble and be shaken, for they know that their end must be changed” (6:15–16). The lament that opens the third dialogue begins with a meditation on the six days of creation (6:38–54) that emphasizes more than Genesis 1 that the world was created for the sake of humankind/Adam (6:40, 42, 46, 48, 54; cf. 2 Bar 14:16–19). In this respect it resembles Ben Sira’s preoccupation with creation in general, and Sir 16:26–17:10 in particular. The switch from a tone of praise to one of lament in 6:55 coincides with a shift in focus from all humankind to Israel, not unlike the shift that takes place in Sir 17:11 (see above, chapter II, section 3.3). This is anticipated by the closing phrase of 6:54: “. . . from [Adam] we have all come, the people whom you have chosen.” Hence, Ezra’s statement that “it was for us that you created this world” (6:55) refers—as the next verse makes clear—to Israel, not to humankind in general (see below, section 3.3). Nevertheless, in the third dialogue, Ezra shifts his focus from the fate of Israel to the universal plight of sinful humankind. Uriel succeeds in distracting him from his former concern both by using universal language to speak about the human condition and by shifting his attention from the present to the age to come.19 Early in the third dialogue, for example, Uriel acknowledges that the present world was made for Israel’s sake (7:11), but he compares it to a narrow and dangerous passage through which “the living” must pass in order to reach the world to come (7:14). He then asks Ezra, “Why have you not considered in your mind what is to come, rather than what is now present?” (7:16). Neither focusing on the future world nor thinking in universal terms is at all comforting to Ezra, though, especially after Uriel’s stark description of the final judgment (7:31–42). Ezra’s reaction to that is to return to his complaint about the “evil heart,” which he blames for the fact that “almost all who have been created” are destined for perdition in the final judgment (7:45–48). Uriel confirms Ezra’s suspicion that only a very few of those who have been created will be saved (7:60–61)—a point which he reiterates later in the third dialogue (8:1–3). Despite Uriel’s repeated efforts to convince Ezra that he is one of the righteous few and should therefore rejoice over his own salvation (7:59, 76–77,

19 Bruce W. Longenecker, 2 Esdras (Guides to Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1995), 46.

110

chapter three

8:47–62, 9:13), Ezra continues to lament the loss of the mass of humanity right up to the end of the third dialogue (9:14–16). Ezra’s deepening despair over the possibility of salvation in the final judgment does in fact distract him for much of the third dialogue from his original complaint about the fate of Israel. The sapiential character of Ezra’s rhetoric emerges most clearly in the third dialogue, in which he appeals several times to God as Creator for mercy on the human race (7:132–140, 8:4–14, 20–36, 43–45); compare also his appeals to the earth (7:62–69) and to Adam (7:116–126). Twice Ezra alludes to his own wisdom or understanding as the basis of these appeals: 8:4 and 8:25. The appeals for mercy are all based on the assumption that God cares for his creations, especially human beings (cf. Job 10). It is well known that the biblical wisdom literature looks to the created order for examples of divine providence, and such appeals are even more frequent and explicit in the primary example of covenantal wisdom, Sirach.20 The author was clearly conscious of the shift in Ezra’s focus, since in the midst of one of his appeals to the Creator, he suddenly reverts to his earlier concern: “And now I will speak out: About all humankind you know best; but I will speak about your people, for whom I am grieved, and about your inheritance, for whom I lament, and about Israel, for whom I am sad, and about the seed of Jacob, for whom I am troubled” (8:15–16). Nevertheless, in the following prayer he slips back into universal language: “But what are mortals, that you are angry with them; or what is a corruptible race, that you are so bitter against it? For in truth there is no one among those who have been born who has not acted wickedly; among those who have existed there is no one who has not done wrong” (8:34–35; cf. Job 4:17–21, 25:4–6). Although Ezra’s mourning over the fate of Zion and the people of Israel slips into the background in the third dialogue, overwhelmed as it is by his despair over the loss of the majority of humankind in the final judgment, it is certainly not forgotten. In fact, it is reasserted forcefully in the fourth episode, both by Ezra (10:7, 20–24) and by the 20 The first scholar to call the theology of the wisdom literature a “theology of creation” was Walther Zimmerli, “The Place and Limit of the Wisdom [sic] in the Framework of the Old Testament Theology,” Scottish Journal of Theology 17 (1964): 146–58; repr. in Studies in Ancient Israelite Wisdom (ed. J. L. Crenshaw; New York: KTAV, 1976), 314–26. See also Hans-Jürgen Hermisson, “Observations on the Creation Theology in Wisdom,” in Israelite Wisdom: Essays in Honor of Samuel Terrein (ed. J. G. Gammie et al.; Missola, Mont: Scholars Press for Union Theological Seminary, 1978), 43–57; Leo Perdue, Wisdom and Creation: The Theology of the Wisdom Literature (Nashville: Abingdon, 1994).

the dialogues of 4 ezra as a wisdom debate

111

mourning woman who represents Zion (9:43–10:4). Moreover, all three of the visions address Ezra’s concern with Zion and Israel by means of symbolic representations of their future vindication. The tension between Ezra and Uriel over the loss of the mass of humanity, by contrast, remains unresolved; Ezra’s last words in the third dialogue are “I said before, and I say now, and will say it again: there are more who perish than those who will be saved, as a wave is greater than a drop of water” (9:14–16). Ezra presents this problem as a cause for justified mourning in his dialogue with the mourning woman, comparing the earth to a mother who has lost a “multitude” of children (10:9–14). The only hint of a resolution comes in the vision of the Man from the Sea, when Ezra sees the Man (i.e., the Messiah) “call to himself another multitude that was peaceable” (13:12), which in the interpretation is identified as consisting of the lost tribes of Israel (13:39–40). While the interpretation points to the eschatological vindication of Israel, or at least of those who strive to keep the commandments (13:42), the vision of a multitude and the repetition of the term “multitude” in the interpretation (10:39, 47) perhaps serve to allay Ezra’s fear that only a very few people will be saved (see further, chapter IV, section 3.3). To summarize, Ezra and Uriel share a sapiential interest in the creation of the world and of humankind. They also agree, at least verbally, on the limitation of human knowledge to observable phenomena, which is unusual in an apocalypse. Ezra, however, counts the fate of Israel among “those things that we daily experience” (4:23) and therefore demands an explanation for it. Uriel shows no interest in specific historical events, but views the divine plan of history as a great secret that may be revealed only to the few who are righteous (8:62). The main source of disagreement between them is Ezra’s biblical understanding of Israel’s history, which is shaped by the concepts of election and the covenant. In place of these concepts, Uriel’s wisdom instructions focus on Torah in the abstract and the possibility of salvation for any righteous individual. While Ezra struggles to reconcile the present circumstances of Israel with God’s promises and actions in the past, Uriel looks to the eschatological future for a justification of “the way of the Most High.” 3. The Content of the Debate Having established the narrative trajectory and generally sapiential character of the dialogues, the remainder of the chapter analyzes the

112

chapter three

debate between Ezra and Uriel on five theological topics: 1) anthropology and moral responsibility (the cause and consequences of Adam’s sin); 2) epistemology (the goal and limits of human knowledge); 3) election, covenant and salvation (the identity of God’s chosen people); 4) the significance of the Torah (its relationship to wisdom and salvation); and 5) divine justice and mercy (in the present world and in the final judgment). These topics were chosen because there is significant reflection on them in the dialogues and because they are perennial topics of discussion in Second Temple period Judaism, and in particular in the sapiential texts considered in the previous chapter. The positions of Ezra and Uriel do not always correlate exactly with those of the covenantal and eschatological wisdom texts discussed in the previous chapter, but there is enough continuity with them to make the case that the author was trying to portray a confrontation between these two forms of wisdom as they existed at the end of the first century c.e. 3.1

Anthropology and Moral Responsibility

The exegesis of Genesis 2–3 (or sometimes 1–3, or 1–4) played an important part in framing the discussion of the origin of human sinfulness among Jewish sages of the Hellenistic period, as well as in rabbinic Judaism. Of course, it was the Hellenistic Jewish exegesis of these chapters that laid the groundwork for the development of the Christian doctrines of the fall and original sin.21 Fourth Ezra tends to be highlighted in surveys of the development of those doctrines because in one verse in particular (7:118) it appears to provide a Jewish parallel for the Pauline interpretation of Adam’s sin.22 Not surprisingly, the dialogical nature of the text tends to be overlooked in such contexts, resulting in a distortion of the author’s views on the subject.23 Since different anthropological assumptions underlie their disagreements on the other four theological topics discussed below, it is important to distinguish the views of Ezra and Uriel on Adam’s sin at the outset, even though their

21 The classic study of this topic is F. R. Tennant, The Sources of the Doctrines of the Fall and Original Sin (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1903; repr., New York: Schocken, 1968). 22 On the limitations of surveys of early Jewish exegesis of Genesis 2–3 that are constructed using “Pauline categories,” see John R. Levison, Portraits of Adam in Early Judaism From Sirach to 2 Baruch ( JSPSup 1; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1988), 14–23. 23 This tendency is avoided by Levison (Portraits, 113–27), who is careful to distinguish between the positions of Ezra and Uriel.

the dialogues of 4 ezra as a wisdom debate

113

differences on this subject cannot be correlated closely with a contrast between covenantal and eschatological wisdom. The problem as Ezra sees it is stated most clearly in his first lament. Ezra begins his appeal to the Most High by recalling the creation of Adam (3:5), his placement in the garden (3:6) and his transgression of the “one commandment,” with the result that “you appointed death for him and for his descendents” (3:7). Apart from the omission of Eve,24 the most striking feature of Ezra’s summary of Genesis 2–3 is his assumption that human mortality is the result of Adam’s sin.25 The connection between sin and mortality is underscored by the discussion of Adam’s sinful descendents (3:8–9), which concludes, “And the same fate befell all of them: just as death came upon Adam, so the flood upon them” (3:10).26 Ezra does not draw a causal connection between Adam’s transgression and the tendency of his descendents to sin, however. It emerges in the course of the lament that the cause of

24 In fact, Eve never comes up in either Ezra’s or Uriel’s statements about Adam’s sin, an early indication that the author of 4 Ezra (like the author of the Wisdom of Solomon) views Adam as the symbol or prototype of humankind in general (following Gen 1:27), not as a historical individual. On the other hand, blaming Eve would have undercut Ezra’s argument that Adam sinned because he was created with an “evil heart.” 25 Tennant (Sources, 119–21) finds the earliest evidence of this interpretation of Genesis 2–3 (but with the blame on Eve, not Adam) in Sir 25:24, “From a woman sin had its beginning, and because of her we all die.” Because the context of this statement is a discourse about the evil wife, Levison does not consider it an allusion to Genesis 3; see his article, “Is Eve to Blame? A Contextual Analysis of Sir 25:24,” CBQ 47 (1985): 617–23. Claudia Camp agrees with Levison that the primary referent of the verse is the evil wife, but she “cannot help but hear an allusion to Genesis 3.” See her essay, “Understanding a Patriarchy: Women in Second Century Jerusalem Through the Eyes of Ben Sira,” in ‘Women Like This’: New Perspectives on Jewish Women in the Greco-Roman World (ed. A.-J. Levine; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1991), 1–39 (here, 29–30). The question of whether Ben Sira’s audience would have heard such an allusion is still open, since there is no earlier example of this explanation for human mortality. Elsewhere, Ben Sira seems to imply that death was part of the divine plan for human beings: 17:1–2, 40:11. Even in a text as late as the Wisdom of Solomon, human beings are assumed to have been created mortal, if Michael Kolarcik is right that the “death” referred to in Wis 1:13 and 2:23–24 is spiritual death, not physical mortality. See his book The Ambiguity of Death in the Book of Wisdom 1–6 (AnBib 127; Rome: Editrice Pontifico Istituto Biblico, 1991), and my article supporting his argument via the exegesis of Genesis 1–4 by Philo of Alexandria, “The Exegetical Background of the ‘Ambiguity of Death’ in the Wisdom of Solomon,” JSJ 30 (1999): 1–24. 26 It is not quite true that “in his attempt to probe the cause of death . . . Ezra indicts both Adam and the nations” (Levison, Portraits, 116). While Ezra draws a parallel between the reasons for Adam’s death and the flood, he does not suggest that the people of Noah’s generation were responsible for anyone’s deaths but their own, while Adam clearly was (3:7).

114

chapter three

Adam’s sin was the same as that of anyone’s sin: “For the first Adam, burdened with an evil heart, transgressed and was overcome, as were also all who were descended from him” (3:21; cf. 3:26, “. . . in everything doing just as Adam and all his descendents had done, for they also had the evil heart”). This explanation for sin is much closer to the rabbinic concept of the “evil inclination” (‫ )יצר הרע‬than to the Christian doctrine of “original sin.”27 In fact, “evil heart” (cor malignum) is probably a translation of ‫יצר הרע‬, since there was no set translation of this term into Greek (which underlies all of the extant versions) and in rabbinic texts the term ‫ יצר‬is used almost interchangeably with ‫לבב‬, “heart.”28 Stone comments that Ezra “carefully avoids directly attributing the creation of the evil inclination to God,”29 but the rabbis did not hesitate to trace the origin of the evil inclination to the creation of humankind by God.30 Ezra never suggests any alternative origin for the “evil heart” and he is quite clear that it was present in Adam before his transgression (3:21).31 In fact the whole tendency of the lament is to blame God for human sinfulness: “Yet you did not take away their evil heart from them, so that your law might produce fruit in them” (3:20). Although the Torah is called a “remedy” (‫ )סם‬for the evil inclination in various 27 On the rabbinic concept of yē er, see most recently Jonathan Schofer, “The Redaction of Desire: Structure and Editing of Rabbinic Teachings Concerning yē er (‘Inclination’),” Journal of Jewish Thought and Philosophy 12 (2003): 19–53; idem, The Making of a Sage: A Study in Rabbinic Ethics (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 2005), 84–115. See also F. C. Porter, “The Yeçer Hara: A Study in the Jewish Doctrine of Sin,” in Biblical and Semitic Studies (Yale Bicentennial Publications; New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1901), 93–156; Ephraim E. Urbach, The Sages: Their Concepts and Beliefs (trans. Israel Abrahams; Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1979), 471–83. 28 Schofer, Making of a Sage, 86; Porter, “The Yeçer Hara”, 110–11; Urbach, The Sages, 472. The reason for the interchangeability is that the concept of the evil inclination derives from Gen 6:5 and 8:21, which locate the evil inclination in the heart. Harnisch attempts to distinguish between the “evil root” (3:22) or “evil seed” (4:30), which he identifies with the evil inclination, and the “evil heart,” which he says (following Box and Charles) is the result of the triumph of the evil inclination. See his book Verhängnis und Verheißung der Geschichte: Untersuchungen zum Zeit- und Geschichtsverständnis im 4 Buch Esra und in der syr. Baruchapokalypse (FRLANT 97; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1969), 48–50. This distinction is contrary to the rabbinic usage, however, and conflicts with Ezra’s belief that the “evil heart” is universal (3:26)—because Ezra generally acknowledges that there are a few people who are able to triumph over the “evil heart.” 29 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 63. 30 Porter, “The Yeçer Hara,” 117; Urbach, The Sages, 480. 31 Levison (Portraits, 114–15) observes that Ezra’s appeals for mercy are based on the assumption that human beings, imperfect as they are, are God’s own handiwork (7:134, 8:7–14, 44–45).

the dialogues of 4 ezra as a wisdom debate

115

rabbinic sources, it is clear from the metaphors used to describe the relationship between the Torah and the ‫ יצר הרע‬that Torah-observance is a means of subduing and gradually weakening the evil inclination, but not eradicating it.32 The idea of the Torah as a remedy is implied in 3:20–22, but Ezra is pessimistic about the power of the Torah to prevail over the evil inclination. In the first dialogue, Uriel’s view of Adam’s sin is not noticeably different from Ezra’s. He does not dispute the existence of the “evil heart”—in fact, he confirms that “the heart is evil” in his opening speech (4:4). His first eschatological discourse begins with a rather obscure comparison of the judgment to a harvest (4:28–32) that seems to trace the origin of evil back to the creation of man: “For a grain of evil seed was sown in Adam’s heart from the beginning, and how much ungodliness it has produced until now—and will produce until the time of threshing comes!” (4:30). Like Ezra, Uriel avoids saying directly that it was God who sowed the evil seed, but as Porter comments, “Who else could it be?”33—since Uriel also affirms that God alone was responsible for creation (6:6). Uriel implies that this single “grain of evil seed” is the cause all of the “ungodliness” in the world, but he does not draw any conclusion about responsibility for sin, or its universality, from its origin in Adam. Ezra does not mention Adam or the evil heart in the second dialogue, and Uriel makes only a couple of passing references to the problem of human sinfulness. Nevertheless, his view of the problem as distinct from Ezra’s begins to emerge in these statements. The first comes in a poetic passage that suggests that the events of the end time were planned before creation (6:1–6). The first eleven clauses beginning with “before” refer to aspects of the creation of the world (cf. Prov 8:22–26), but the temporal frame of reference of the last three is unclear: “and before the present years were reckoned and before the imaginations of those who now sin were estranged and before those who stored up treasures of faith were sealed . . .” (6:5). Uriel is definitely saying that the final judgment was planned before anyone ever had the opportunity to sin or be faithful (cf. 7:70), but is he also saying that the fates of individual sinners and righteous persons were “sealed” before the creation

32 Schofer, Making of a Sage, 91–103; cf. Urbach, 475–80, Porter, “The Yeçer Hara,” 126–29. 33 Porter, “The Yeçer Hara,” 149.

116

chapter three

of the world? Against that interpretation, the wording of 6:5 suggests freedom of choice.34 What is clear is that Uriel is drawing a dualistic contrast between sinners and “those who stored up treasures of faith,”35 implying that the evil inclination is not universal, or at least not equally powerful in all people. In this respect Uriel’s anthropology resembles that of 4QInstruction (especially 4Q417 1 i 13–18; see above, chapter II, section 2.3), while Ezra’s assumption that the tendency towards sin (‫ )יצר הרע‬is universal finds parallels in Sirach (15:14 Heb; cf. 2:11, 17:29, 18:12–14, 28:2–6; and see above, chapter II, section 3.5). Also in the second dialogue, Uriel counters Ezra’s claim that the “disease” of the evil heart is “permanent” (3:22) by indicating that in the end times “the heart of the earth’s inhabitants shall be changed and converted to a different spirit” and “evil shall be blotted out” while “faithfulness shall flourish” (6:26–28). Probably Uriel does not mean that the hearts of individuals will be “converted” (as in Ezek 36:26–27), but rather that sinners will be wiped out and only the righteous will survive the “signs” of the end and inhabit the earth in the last days (6:25; cf. 7:27, 9:7–8). The latter meaning seems more likely in light of Uriel’s sharp ethical dualism elsewhere in the dialogues. It is only in the third dialogue that the disagreement between Ezra and Uriel over the significance of Adam’s sin becomes obvious. The first mention of Adam’s sin is by Uriel: “For I made the world for [Israel’s] sake, and when Adam transgressed my statutes, what had been made was judged” (7:11).36 This remark challenges Ezra’s entirely positive description of Adam as the ancestor of Israel (6:54–59) in his third lament, which is discussed further in section 3.3, below. Uriel blames the transgression of Adam for the fact that “the entrances of this world were made narrow and sorrowful and toilsome” (7:12; cf. Gen 3:16–17), in contrast to “the entrances of the greater world” which “yield the fruit of immortality” (7:13; cf. Gen 3:22–24). Nevertheless, Uriel never suggests that Adam’s sin had any effect on his descendents’ ability to keep the commandments of the Torah. On the contrary, he mentions 34 On the tension between free will and determinism in Uriel’s theology, see below, section 3.5. 35 “Treasures of faith” is probably equivalent to the “treasure of works” that Uriel ascribes to Ezra in 7:77; cf. 9:7, “. . . all who will be saved . . . on account of their works, or on account of the faith by which they have believed.” In other words, the author does not make a Pauline distinction between faith and works. 36 On the implications of saying that “Adam transgressed my statutes,” see section 3.4, below.

the dialogues of 4 ezra as a wisdom debate

117

Adam at the beginning of the speech in which he explains why “those who live on earth will be tormented” (7:72): “When the Most High made the world and Adam and all who have come from him, he first prepared the judgment and the things that pertain to the judgment” (7:70). The point of that speech is that sin is not inevitable, but results from a willful refusal to benefit from the divine gifts of “understanding” and the Torah. Thus, Uriel presents Adam as the archetypal sinner (cf. 4:30), rather than as the ancestor of those who will “receive those things that have been reserved for them” (7:14). This reflects his belief that the vast majority of humanity is going to perdition (7:60–61), but that a few who are righteous will be saved. Similarly, in 4Q418 81 1–3, the addressees are set apart from humanity in general (‫)בני אדם‬. Ezra, for his part, persists in sympathizing with Adam and extending his predicament to all (or nearly all) of humanity: “For an evil heart has grown up in us, which has alienated us from God, and has brought us into corruption and the ways of death, and has shown us the paths of perdition and removed us far from life—and that not merely for a few but for almost all who have been created” (7:48). Here as in his first lament, Ezra places the ultimate responsibility for human sinfulness on God, by tracing its origin to the “evil heart” that God presumably created in Adam (though Ezra stops short of directly blaming God). A little later, however, Ezra suddenly seems to reverse himself, putting the blame on Adam: “O Adam, what have you done? For though it was you who sinned, the fall was not yours alone, but ours also who are your descendents” (7:118). It is not clear what Ezra means by “the fall” here, however. Given what Ezra has previously said about the “evil heart,” it would be highly inconsistent if by “the fall” he meant that Adam’s transgression was the cause of the pervasive sinfulness of humanity. On the other hand, if “the fall” refers only to mortality, then Ezra is merely reiterating what he said in his first lament (3:7, 21). In the verse that follows, “death” is presented as a punishment for individual sin (cf. 3:8–10) and is contrasted with potential immortality: “For what good is it to us, if an immortal time has been promised to us, but we have done deeds that bring death? (7:119). What exactly does Ezra mean by “death” in 7:119? As a result of Uriel’s revelations in 7:76–87, physical mortality is no longer the greatest of Ezra’s worries: “For while we lived and committed iniquity, we did not consider what we should suffer after death” (7:126). The intervening verses (7:120–25) lament the loss of promised post-mortem rewards through individual sin. Thus, the “death” that Ezra connects with Adam’s sin

118

chapter three

in 7:119 is apparently not physical mortality (as in his first lament), but rather the punishment (or annihilation) that awaits sinners after the final judgment.37 The context of Ezra’s apostrophe to Adam (7:118) raises further questions about its meaning. It immediately follows a verse that puts the blame not on Adam, but on the earth: “This is my first and last comment: it would have been better if the earth had not produced Adam, or else, when it had produced him, had restrained him from sinning” (7:116). The personification of the earth as mother of humanity is a common motif in 4 Ezra (e.g. 4:40–43, 5:48–50, 7:62), but here Ezra stretches the metaphor to the breaking point, by imputing to the earth the agency to restrain Adam from sinning. His use of the earth here (and in 7:62) is probably euphemistic, therefore: in order to avoid blasphemy he blames the mother for the father’s fault, as it were (since in other contexts he emphasizes God’s role and minimizes the role of the earth in the creation of Adam: 3:4–5, 6:53–54, 8:44).38 In other words, he has not actually given up the idea that God is ultimately to blame for burdening humanity with an evil heart (3:21). In this speech (7:116–26), Ezra appears to be ambivalent about where to pin the blame for human sinfulness.39 It may be that his apostrophe to Adam is just another guise for blaming God for the human propensity to sin. In any case, it is clear that Ezra does not accept Uriel’s point of view, that sin is entirely the result of an individual’s choices. The disagreement between Ezra and Uriel over responsibility for sin reflects a sapiential debate that was going on already in Ben Sira’s time and was still a live issue in our author’s time, although the exegesis of Genesis 1–3 had evolved considerably in the meantime. In this case the positions of Ezra and Uriel do not divide neatly along the lines of covenantal vs. eschatological wisdom. Uriel’s dismissive attitude toward the majority of humankind is reminiscent of 4QInstruction’s remarks about the ‫( רוח בשׂר‬4Q417 1 i 17–18) and ‫( בני אדם‬4Q418 81 1–3). On the other hand, Uriel’s insistence that every human being has the necessary “knowledge” to keep the commandments if they so choose, and hence to be saved in the final judgment (7:70–73; cf. 7:127–31)

37 “Death” also occurs in both of these senses in the Wisdom of Solomon. See above, note 25. 38 This is the view of Stone, Fourth Ezra, 258. 39 Levison (Portraits, 123) comments that there are two debates going on in this exchange about Adam: Ezra vs. Uriel and Ezra vs. Ezra.

the dialogues of 4 ezra as a wisdom debate

119

contrasts with 4QInstruction, in which only the elect have been given the capacity of “rejecting the evil and knowing the good” (4Q423 1–2 7; cf. 4Q417 1 i 17–18). With respect to his emphasis on free will, Uriel’s position is much closer to the thesis of Sir 15:11–18:14: “If you choose, you can keep the commandments, and to act faithfully is a matter of your own choice” (15:15; see above, chapter II, section 3.3). Ezra, by implying that God is responsible for the effects of the “evil heart,” essentially takes the part of Ben Sira’s opponents: “It was the Lord’s doing that I fell away” (15:11). On the other hand, Ezra’s negative statements about Adam are balanced by a more positive view of him as the ancestor of the chosen people (6:54; cf. Sir 49:16), in contrast to Uriel’s entirely negative depiction of Adam as the paradigm of disobedience.40 Despite the different conclusions they draw about human responsibility for sin, Ezra’s reading of Genesis 2–3 appears to be substantially the same as Uriel’s. Both eschew interpretations that focus on Eve or the serpent (as Satan) and both treat Adam as the archetype of sinful humanity. The author of 4 Ezra, like the majority of the rabbinic sages, apparently believed that Adam sinned because he was created with the evil inclination (‫)יצר הרע‬, as were all of his descendents. The author has Ezra express a more skeptical, pessimistic version of this doctrine, while Uriel represents a more orthodox interpretation, whereby the evil inclination can be overcome through adherence to the Torah. Uriel’s understanding of ‫ יצר‬is parallel to that of Ben Sira, who can say that “God created man from the beginning . . . and gave him into the hand of his inclination (‫( ”)יצר‬15:14), and in the next breath affirm that keeping the commandments is a matter of free choice (15:15).41 Hence Ben Sira’s grandson was prompted to translate ‫ יצר‬in this context with διαβούλιον, which is usually rendered “free will” or “free choice.”

40 In fact, Sir 49:16 is the only mention of Adam as an individual in Sirach, but other references to the creation of humanity do not include any mention of a transgression, and mortality is assumed to be the natural result of human beings’ having been created out of earth. The only possible allusion to the “Fall” story is Sir 25:24, but if it is one, the blame is placed entirely on Eve. See Levison, Portraits, 33–48, and cf. note 25, above. It is unlikely that by the end of the first century c.e., it would have been possible to ignore the story of Adam’s transgression (as Ben Sira did) in any discussion of the origins of human sinfulness. 41 On Ben Sira’s understanding of ‫יצר‬, see John J. Collins, Jewish Wisdom in the Hellenistic Age (OTL; Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1997), 83.

120

chapter three

As for the consequences of Adam’s sin, Ezra directly blames Adam for bringing mortality on his descendents (3:7, 21), and in one passage (7:116–26) implies a connection between Adam’s sin and the fate of sinners after death, but never says that Adam’s transgression was the cause of humanity’s enslavement to the evil inclination. He assumes that the “disease” of the evil heart is “permanent” (3:22), and that the only hope of salvation for sinful humanity is that God will have mercy on his creation. With the possible exception of 7:118, Ezra’s attitude toward Adam is one of sympathy and solidarity rather than blame. Uriel is much more critical of Adam because he views giving in to the evil inclination as a matter of choice and a misuse of Godgiven “understanding” (7:72). He emphasizes the far-reaching negative effects of Adam’s transgression on the world (7:11–12; cf. 4:27–32), but insists that the freedom to “choose life” is intact (7:127–29).42 Thus the disagreement between Ezra and Uriel on the origin of human sinfulness stems not so much from different readings of Genesis 2–3 as from different interpretations of the evil inclination mentioned in Gen 6:5 and 8:21. 3.2

Epistemology

As noted above (section 2), Uriel and Ezra come to a verbal agreement in the first dialogue that “those who inhabit the earth can understand only what is on the earth” (4:21). By limiting the purview of human understanding in these terms, they concur in rejecting a type of knowledge offered by many apocalypses (including 1 Enoch), namely the geography of the heavenly and infernal realms (cf. 4:7–8).43 Actually,

42 The position of Uriel is echoed (and clarified) by Baruch in 2 Baruch: “For, although Adam sinned first and has brought death upon all who were not in his own time, yet each of them who has been born from him has prepared for himself the coming torment . . . Adam is, therefore, not the cause [sc. of sin], except only for himself, but each of us has become our own Adam” (54:15, 19; translation of A. F. J. Klijn in OTP 1:640). Baruch also echoes the controversial words of Ezra in 48:42, “O Adam, what did you do to all who were born after you?”—but then blames Eve for the first transgression in the next verse. The consequence for “all who were born after” Adam and Eve is “corruption” (48:43—i.e., mortality), not hereditary sinfulness, and hence this verse is not actually at variance with 54:15, 19. Most commentators, in part on the basis of these verses, believe 2 Baruch is dependent on 4 Ezra or on a common source, but Pierre Bogaert argues for the priority of 2 Baruch: see his Apocalypse de Baruch: Introduction, traduction du syriaque et commentaire (Paris: Editions du Cerf, 1969), 287–88. 43 Stone, “Lists of Revealed Things,” 420. See also Patrick Tiller, “Anti-apocalyptic Apocalypse,” in For a Later Generation: The Transformation of Tradition in Israel, Early Judaism

the dialogues of 4 ezra as a wisdom debate

121

Ezra had not asked for this type of information, nor does he show much interest in it later on.44 Uriel is presumably not bound by ordinary human limits, since he has been sent to reveal to Ezra knowledge that only an elect few may possess (8:62). Nevertheless, he adheres for the most part to his own restriction, with the exception of a few references to the habitations of the souls in Hades (4:41; cf. 7:80, 85, 95, 101) and one mention of paradise (8:52). Otherwise, the “transcendent reality” he reveals is predominantly temporal rather than spatial.45 This agreement to avoid speculation about otherworldly places, while striking in an apocalypse, turns out to be something of a red herring in the debate on the limits of human understanding. In fact, there is a real disagreement between Ezra and Uriel, occupying much of the first two dialogues, over the possibility of understanding “the way of the Most High” (4:2–3). This disagreement turns on another definition of the limits of human knowledge that is implicit in Uriel’s first argument. After Ezra protests that no one could “solve” the “problems” (similitudines) that Uriel has posed (see above, section 2), Uriel alludes to some questions in God’s speech to Job from the whirlwind (specifically, Job 38:16–17) as examples of the type of knowledge that is unavailable to human beings. He continues, “But now I have asked you only about wind and fire and the day—things that you have experienced ( per quem transisti) and from which you cannot be separated, and you have given me no answer about them” (4:9). The argument is specious, because of course Ezra is right that the “problems” are insoluble, even though they concern ordinary phenomena (4:5). In fact, the point of these “problems” is the same as that of the questions in the whirlwind speech in Job: that Ezra should not question the justice of God’s actions because “the way of the Most High” is beyond his understanding.

and Early Christianity (ed. R. A. Argall, B. A. Bow and R. A. Werline; Harrisburg, Pa.: Trinity Press International, 2000), 258–65. Calling 4 Ezra as a whole “anti-apocalyptic” seems to be making too much of a minor point in the dialogues, and Tiller does not account for the shift to a more typical apocalyptic form (and content) in the second half of the book. 44 It may be objected that Ezra’s account of the six days of creation (6:38–54) contains speculative elements: the heavenly store-chambers (6:40), the gathering of the waters into one seventh of the earth (6:42), and of course Behemoth and Leviathan (6:49–52). Since they are incorporated into a recapitulation of Genesis 1, however, the author probably considered these things to be revealed in the Torah. 45 See the definition of an apocalypse by John J. Collins in Semeia 14, Apocalypse: The Morphology of a Genre (ed. John J. Collins; Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press, 1979), 9.

122

chapter three

Ezra turns the implication that “things that you have experienced” are appropriate objects of human inquiry to his advantage in a similarly specious argument later in the first dialogue: “I implore you, my lord, why have I been endowed with the power of understanding? For I did not wish to inquire about the ways above, but about those things that we daily experience (quae pertranseunt per nos cotidie): why Israel has been given over to the Gentiles in disgrace; why the people whom you loved has been given over to godless tribes, and the law of our ancestors has been brought to destruction and the written covenants no longer exist . . .” (4:22–23). Even though these questions clearly pertain to “the way of the Most High,” Uriel apparently feels compelled by Ezra’s argument to offer some sort of answer, since he immediately explains that the present age “will not be able to bring the things that have been promised to the righteous in their appointed times, because this age is full of sadness and infirmities” (4:26). Thus begins the first round of eschatological predictions, and the dispute on human knowledge is suspended until the second dialogue. The second dialogue is so similar in structure to the first that the second dispute (5:31–40) appears at first glance to be merely an abbreviated version of the first dispute about human knowledge. There are significant differences in emphasis between the two dialogues, however. As mentioned above (section 2), Ezra’s second lament ends with the provocative challenge, “If you really hate your own people, they should be punished at your own hands” (5:30). Uriel responds directly to the assumption underlying the challenge, asking Ezra, “Are you greatly disturbed in mind over Israel? Or do you love him more than his Maker does?” (5:31). Ezra’s emotional response shows that the foregoing dialogue has only deepened his despair: “No, my lord, but because of my grief I have spoken; for every hour I suffer agonies of heart, while I strive to understand the way of the Most High and to search out some part of his judgment” (5:34). After posing another set of insoluble problems for Ezra, Uriel concludes, “Just as you cannot do one of the things that were mentioned, so you cannot discover my judgment or the goal of the love that I have promised my people” (5:40). Thus, despite the preponderance of sapiential language in the second dispute,46 the Stone (Fourth Ezra, 135) labels as sapiential Uriel’s opening formula (5:32), Ezra’s striving to understand (5:34, 37) and admission that he is “without wisdom” (5:39), the form of the riddles (5:36–37) and the conclusion that “you cannot discover . . .” (5:40). 46

the dialogues of 4 ezra as a wisdom debate

123

issue is not so much the limits of human knowledge in general as the incomprehensibility of God’s love for his people. Whereas the ending of the first dispute left open the possibility that Israel’s experience could be explained to the satisfaction of Ezra’s intellect, the ending of the second seals off any hope of his comprehension of “the way of the Most High” or God’s “judgment” (5:40). Yet it is about the judgment that Uriel immediately begins to instruct Ezra in the following prediction section (in 5:42). A similar shift took place at the beginning of the first prediction section (4:26), where Uriel began to explain “the way of the Most High” by introducing the doctrine of the two ages. Therefore, the point of the first two disputes is not that Ezra could never understand “the way of the Most High,” but rather that he could never arrive at an understanding of it on his own, without the special revelation that Uriel provides. The first two dialogues provide a graphic illustration of the difference between the two schools of wisdom represented by Ezra and Uriel regarding the path to theological understanding. Ezra believes that “the way of the Most High” ought to be susceptible to human reason, since it is revealed in “those things that we daily experience” (4:23). Like Ben Sira, he assumes that Israel’s history (summarized in his first lament) is an expression of the divine plan, just as the order of creation is.47 His anguish is therefore intensified (5:34) when Uriel not only refuses to answer his questions, but insists that the things he is asking about—“why Israel has been given over to the Gentiles in disgrace,” etc. (4:22–25)—are beyond human comprehension. Uriel believes that human knowledge about God can be attained only through revelation, and that in order to be receptive to revelation, Ezra must abandon his striving to understand God’s ways in his own terms. The only knowledge that Uriel is interested in revealing, however, pertains to eschatological events and the world to come. To the extent that he attempts to justify “the way of the Most High,” it is by denigrating the present world and directing Ezra’s attention to the last days and the final judgment.

47 Cf. de Villiers, “Understanding the Way of God,” 364–68. In Sirach, the Leitwort “glory” (‫כבוד‬, δόξα) ties together the hymn praising God for the wonders of creation (42:15–43:33) and the “Praise of the Fathers” (44:1–50:24)—which reveals Ben Sira’s perspective on Israel’s history—and arguably stands for the presence of Wisdom in the world (see above, chapter II, section 3.2, especially note 176).

124

chapter three

This tendency of Uriel’s to focus on the eschatological future can be seen in the subtle shift in the meaning of God’s “judgment” in the second dialogue. In 5:34, Ezra uses “his judgment” in a very general sense, parallel to “the way of the Most High,” which in the first dialogue refers to “God’s way in conducting the world.”48 In the context of the foregoing lament, it is clear that Ezra is primarily concerned with the contrast between God’s past and present conduct towards Israel. In 5:40, Uriel parallels “my judgment” with “the goal of the love that I have promised to my people,” implying a future sense, but without excluding a more general meaning. When he says “I shall liken my judgment to a circle” (5:42), however, he is referring exclusively to the final judgment, as is clear from Ezra’s question in 5:43. Thereafter in the book, “judgment” generally stands for the final judgment.49 The latter usage is consistent with most uses of “judgment” (‫ משׁפט‬and ‫ )פקודה‬in 4QInstruction.50 There is one passage in the third dialogue that relates to the issue of the appropriate objects of human understanding and, incidentally, to the different meanings of “judgment” for Ezra and Uriel. This is Ezra’s lament over the mind and Uriel’s response to it (7:62–74). Ezra begins by reproaching the earth (which is personified as the mother of all the living elsewhere in the dialogues; cf. 4:41–42, 5:48–50) for bringing forth “the mind” (sensus, i.e., human consciousness), which is perishable like everything else created out of the dust (7:62–63).51 The reason for the reproach is that, unlike animals, “we are tormented, because we perish and we know it” (7:64).52 On this point, Ezra sounds more like Qoheleth than Ben Sira, who is rather matter-of-fact about the dual human condition of mortality and consciousness and emphasizes the 48 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 137, 149. He points out that God’s “judgment” and “ways” are similarly parallel in 2 Baruch 20:4 and 44:6. 49 See Stone’s “Excursus on the Term ‘Judgment’ ” in Fourth Ezra, 149–51. 50 See Goff, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 168–206; a list of occurrences of those two terms for judgment is in notes 13 and 14, p. 172. See the discussion above, chapter II, sections 2.4 and 2.5, and below, section 4. 51 The author of 4 Ezra therefore does not equate the mind with the immortal soul or spirit (cf. 7:78, 88, 100), in contrast to the Wisdom of Solomon (9:15) and other Hellenistic Jewish texts. 52 Stone (Fourth Ezra, 233) takes “we are tormented” (he translates “tortured”) as a reference to eschatological punishment, and reads the verse as saying the same thing as 7:72, that human beings are culpable because they have consciousness. Uriel makes the latter point (7:72) as a correction of Ezra’s perspective on the mind, however. In the context of Ezra’s lament, the torment referred to in 7:64 is clearly that of living with the knowledge of impending death and a post-mortem judgment.

the dialogues of 4 ezra as a wisdom debate

125

dominion of human beings over the rest of creation (Sir 17:1–10).53 Unlike both of those wisdom teachers, on the other hand, Ezra’s main concern is with the judgment that follows death, not with death itself (cf. 7:69, 126).54 This preoccupation must be attributed to the context of the lament over the mind in the midst of Uriel’s instructions about the judgment, rather than to covenantal wisdom, the usual background for Ezra’s laments. Still, although the specter of judgment casts its shadow over the mind, the underlying assumption that understanding is one of the goals of human life (4:22, 5:35; cf. Sir 17:6–10) is present by implication. Uriel responds to Ezra’s bold suggestion that human beings would have been better off without the judgment (7:69) by first reiterating that “the judgment and the things that pertain to the judgment” (i.e., the eschatological events) were foreordained at the time of creation (7:70; cf. 6:6). He then addresses the major point of the lament, turning Ezra’s own words against him (7:71–73): But now, understand from your own words—for you have said that the mind grows with us. 72For this reason, therefore, those who live on earth shall be tormented, because though they had understanding, they committed iniquity; and though they received the commandments, they did not keep them; and though they obtained the law, they dealt unfaithfully with what they received. 73What, then, will they have to say in the judgment, or how will they answer in the last times? 71

The parallelism of “understanding” with “commandments” and “law” will be discussed below in the section on the Torah. The relevant point here is that from Uriel’s perspective, “understanding” is equivalent to “conscience”—it is the possession of “understanding” that makes human beings morally accountable for their actions. By implication, human beings were created with “understanding” in order to enable them to obey the commandments and hence to be saved. This is the clearest statement of Uriel’s view of the limits of human understanding and it explains why he discourages Ezra from attempting

53 On the distinctiveness within the Hebrew Bible of Qoheleth’s perspective on death, see Shannon Burkes, Death in Qoheleth and Egyptian Biographies of the Late Period (SBLDS 170; Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 1999), 35–80. 54 Ezra’s next question for Uriel (7:75) is about whether, after death, the souls are kept for a single final judgment, or “tormented at once,” as he seems to assume in the lament—although it is not clear that by “after death” (7:66, 69) he means “immediately after death.”

126

chapter three

to understand “the way of the Most High.” In his view, asking “why?” is a misuse of the mind, which should be kept focused on the goal of one’s own salvation in the final judgment. At one point he admonishes Ezra, “Why have you not considered in your mind what is to come, rather than what is now present?” (7:16). Uriel’s perspective on human understanding is thus thoroughly eschatological. His urging Ezra to direct his mind to the eschatological future is comparable to the repeated exhortations to contemplate the raz nihyeh in 4QInstruction—although that mysterious entity is apparently more comprehensive than simply “the judgment and the things that pertain to the judgment” (see above, chapter II, section 2.1). In Uriel’s view, human life is a “contest” (7:127) that will be decided at the final judgment, and “understanding” is useful insofar as it enables people to make the correct moral choices that lead to victory in the contest. Similarly, in 4Q418 69 ii 10–15, the main purpose of “seek[ing] eagerly for understanding” is to enable the “truly chosen ones” to “do the works of Truth” and hence to inherit eternal life (see above, chapter II, section 2.5). At the same time, Uriel’s frequent arguments by analogy (discussed above, section 2) presuppose a more empirical epistemology, in that Uriel asks Ezra to reason about eschatological matters based on observation of everyday natural phenomena. The tension between this mode of argumentation and Uriel’s teaching that the world to come (or at least the day of judgment) is totally unlike the present world (7:39–43; 7:112–14) was pointed out in that earlier discussion. It is worth adding that this is another point of similarity with 4QInstruction, which maintains some vestiges of the empirical epistemology associated with the creation theology of Proverbs, despite its insistence that the order of creation can only be comprehended by those to whom the raz nihyeh has been revealed (see above, chapter II, section 2.1). Insofar as eschatological wisdom draws on both sapiential and apocalyptic traditions, it is hardly surprising to find such tensions within its epistemology. 3.3

Election, Covenant and Salvation

Both Ezra and Uriel tend to divide humanity in sharply dualistic terms into those for whom God cares and those whom he rejects. Ezra regularly uses the language of election to describe this process, while Uriel generally speaks of the division of humanity in terms of the eschatological judgment. This issue has been approached in the past as a debate between universalism and particularism, but this way of looking at it

the dialogues of 4 ezra as a wisdom debate

127

has produced more confusion than clarity because of the shifting terms of the discussion. Ezra tries to frame the discussion in terms of “the one and the many” (e.g., 5:28, referring to Israel vs. the nations) while Uriel emphasizes the contrast between “the many and the few” (e.g., 8:1, referring to the wicked vs. the righteous, respectively).55 Therefore, it will be necessary to analyze the whole debate on this issue in order to relate Ezra’s and Uriel’s positions to the proposed sapiential background of the dialogues. Ezra begins the dialogues with a very strong belief in God’s election of Israel, which emerges in the course of his first lament. He describes the election of one man, Abraham, out of the “many nations” descended from Noah, who had turned out to be “more ungodly than were their ancestors,” (3:12) the generation destroyed by the flood. (The election of Noah is implied in 3:11, but the covenant with him is not mentioned.) With Abraham God made an “everlasting covenant” (3:15), which passed through Isaac (Ishmael is not mentioned) to Jacob, whom God “set apart for [him]self,” while Esau he “rejected” (3:16). The Sinai covenant is presented as a renewal or formalization of the covenant with Jacob for his descendents, marked by the giving of the law, not as a separate covenant (3:17–19). In this respect, Ezra’s understanding of the evolving covenant with Israel is very similar to that of Ben Sira (see above, chapter II, section 3.2, on Sir 44:17–45:26). Unlike Ben Sira, though, Ezra shows no interest in the priestly covenant as such, mentioning the offering of sacrifices only in passing, in the context of the election of David and Jerusalem (3:23–24). The meaning of the covenant for Ezra becomes clear in the final section of the lament, in which Ezra asks, “Are the deeds of Babylon better than those of Zion? Or has another nation known you besides Israel? Or what tribes have so believed the covenants as these tribes of Jacob?” (3:31–32). He does not deny that Israel has sinned, “in everything doing just as Adam and all his descendants had done, for

55 Alden L. Thompson comes to the conclusion that Ezra is a universalist because he hopes for the salvation of many, while Uriel is a particularist because of his insistence on the salvation of a few. See his dissertation, Responsibility for Evil in the Theodicy of IV Ezra (SBLDS 29; Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press, 1977). Although he points to a dialectic between one/many arguments and many/few arguments throughout the dialogues (see pp. 158–160), he ends up equating the “many” of the two arguments and hence concluding that Uriel is arguing for the salvation of Israel alone while Ezra would extend salvation to the Gentiles as well.

128

chapter three

they also had the evil heart” (3:26). Nevertheless, he maintains, they have kept the commandments better, relatively speaking, than the other “inhabitants of the world” (3:34–35). Ezra attributes this relative superiority to the “labor” of Israel, implying that they deserve a reward (3:33). Apparently he assumes that other nations are also accountable to the divine law, since he acknowledges, “you may indeed find individuals who have kept your commandments, but nations you will not find” (3:36).56 This last sentence reveals that Ezra recognizes on some level that keeping the commandments is a matter of individual choice, but in the rest of the speech he contrasts the behavior of Israel as a whole with that of other nations. Ezra speaks even more emphatically about the election of Israel in his second lament (5:23–30). Here the contrast between Israel and the other nations is framed as a conflict between “the one” and “the many” (5:28). A series of biblical exempla of God’s preference for one thing out of its class—not all of them symbolic of Israel—leads up to this abstraction. The vine (5:23) is the most ubiquitous of the symbols for Israel (cf. Ps 80:9–17, Jer 2:21, Ezek 17:6, Hos 10:1, 14:7 and Joel 1:7; the related image of the vineyard occurs in Isa 5:1–7 and 27:2–6), but the others have biblical roots as well: for the lily (5:24), cf. Hos 14:6; for the dove (5:26), Ps 74:19 or Hos 11:11; for a single sheep (5:26), Jer 50:17.57 In between these symbolic examples of election, Ezra mentions God’s choice of the land of Israel (5:24), the river Jordan (implied in 5:25a) and Zion (5:25b). These biblical examples of election are all indicative of God’s love for his people (5:27), the theme of the second dialogue. In light of all the evidence from Scripture that he musters, Ezra’s suggestion that God now “hates” his people (5:30) is ironic as well as provocative. There is no doubt in Ezra’s mind that Israel is God’s people, and that only they have “believed [God’s] covenants” (5:29; cf. 3:32). Moreover, “the many” are identified as “those who opposed your promises” (5:29), implying that all other nations are God’s enemies.

See section 3.4, below, for a discussion of this assumption. Stone, Fourth Ezra, 128–130. In his comment on 5:26, he points to the common sheep/shepherd metaphor for the Israel’s relationship to God, but here the image is of a single sheep, not a flock. Stone claims that the allegorical interpretation of the Song of Songs is the main background for the image of the dove and possibly also for the lily. If so, this passage would be the earliest evidence for an allegorical reading of the Song of Songs. 56 57

the dialogues of 4 ezra as a wisdom debate

129

The most extreme expression of Ezra’s ethnocentrism58 comes at the end of his third lament. He concludes his paraphrase of Genesis 1 with a rather surprising remark about Adam: “from him we have all come, the people whom you have chosen” (6:54). The motive behind this assertion becomes clear in the following verse: Ezra admits that he has recalled the works of creation “because you have said that it was for us that you created this world” (6:55).59 That creation was for the sake of humankind may reasonably be inferred from Gen 1:26–28, but to say that creation was for the sake of Israel assumes that “Adam was therefore an Israelite.”60 Ezra recognizes that his argument cannot be sustained on the basis of Genesis 1 alone, since he goes on to paraphrase Isa 40:17 and 40:15: “As for the other nations that have descended from Adam, you have said that they are nothing, and that they are like spittle, and you have compared their abundance to a drop from a bucket” (6:56).61 Ezra clinches his argument with a third appeal to Scripture: “But we your people, whom you have called your firstborn, only begotten, zealous for you, and most dear, have been given into their hands” (6:58).62 Although Ezra seems to be playing fast and loose with Scripture, his argument may reflect one side of a contemporary exegetical debate about whether creation was for the sake of Israel.

58 Bruce W. Longenecker proposes the term “ethnocentric covenantalism” in place of Sanders’ “covenantal nomism” for the typical outlook of Second Temple Judaism, in Eschatology and the Covenant: A Comparison of 4 Ezra and Romans 1–11 ( JSNTSup 57; Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1991), 34. Few Jewish texts of that period deserve this characterization as much as Ezra’s laments, however. 59 According to Stone (Fourth Ezra, 188), the view that the world was created for the sake of Israel is paralleled in T. Mos (1:12), another text of the first century c.e., and appears rather frequently in the rabbinic literature. 60 Jacob Jervell, Imago Dei: Gen 1:26f im Spätjudentum, in der Gnosis, und in den paulinischen Briefen (FRLANT 58; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck und Ruprecht, 1960), 34. Levison (Portraits, 120) disagrees. This was not an unprecedented view of Adam, however; Levison agrees with Jervell that Ben Sira “is claiming the first human for Israel” in 49:16, and concludes that in Jubilees Adam is portrayed as “the first of the virtuous Patriarchs of Israel” (Portraits, 45, 96). 61 “Like spittle” reflects the Septuagint version of Isa 40:15, or perhaps, as Stone points out (Fourth Ezra, 189), an alternate Hebrew text that was preserved by the Septuagint translator, since it is also reflected in 2 Bar. 82:5 and L.A.B. 7:3. 62 The series of epithets recalls God’s characterization of Abraham’s love for Isaac (Gen 22:2), but the only term actually used of Israel in the Bible is “first-born” (Exod 4:22). “Only-begotten” is used of Israel, parallel with “first-born,” in Ps Sol 18:2, while “most dear” may be inferred from a number of biblical passages (e.g. Hos 11:1–4), including the Song of Songs if the author read it allegorically (see above, note 57). The meaning of the third term, aemulatorem in the Latin, is uncertain; in the Vulgate, aemulator (“zealous”) is used only of God.

130

chapter three

In any case, Ezra’s blatant ethnocentrism is not incompatible with covenantal wisdom, at least the form it takes in Baruch (especially Bar 4:3–4; see above, chapter II, section 3.2). The extent to which Uriel’s understanding of who are “God’s people” differs from Ezra’s becomes clear only in the third dialogue, in which he addresses the question of who will be saved. In the first dialogue Uriel does not respond directly to Ezra’s concern with the fate of Israel, even when Ezra reiterates that this is what he wishes to understand (4:22–25). Instead, he begins to reveal “the things that have been promised to the righteous in their appointed times” (4:27). If this is an answer to Ezra’s questions, it could be taken to imply that “the righteous” are equivalent to Israel, but up to this point Uriel has been anything but forthcoming about answering Ezra’s questions. Similarly, in the second dialogue, Uriel’s statement that “you cannot discover my judgment or the goal of the love that I have promised to my people” (5:40) might naturally be read as referring to Israel, especially in light of his earlier questions, “Are you greatly disturbed in mind over Israel? Or do you love him more than his Maker does?” (5:33). On the other hand, Uriel seems deliberately vague in the predictive section of the second dialogue about the identity of the saved: “It shall be that whoever remains after all that I have foretold to you shall be saved and shall see my salvation and the end of my world” (6:25). Uriel finally confronts Ezra’s assumptions about Israel’s elect status after Ezra suggests that the world was created for Israel’s sake. Although Uriel affirms this belief outwardly (7:11), he minimizes its importance with a parable comparing this world to a narrow entrance to a sea or a city (7:3–9). He explains that when Adam transgressed, the world created for Israel’s sake was judged, “and so the entrances of this world were made narrow and sorrowful and toilsome; they are few and evil, full of dangers and involved in great hardships. But the entrances of the greater world are broad and safe, and yield the fruit of immortality” (7:12–13). Thus “Israel’s portion” (7:10) is not an enviable one; lest Ezra assume that the “greater world” is also Israel’s inheritance, Uriel rather pointedly explains, “Therefore unless the living pass through the difficult and futile experiences, they can never receive those things that have been reserved for them” (7:14, emphasis mine). The implication is that Israel is in the same position as the rest of “the living” with respect to entering the “greater world.” It hardly matters if the present world was created for Israel’s sake—Uriel urges Ezra to consider “what is to come, rather than what is now present” (7:16). Uriel’s changing

the dialogues of 4 ezra as a wisdom debate

131

the subject from Israel to “the righteous” in the first dialogue—and in the second from Israel to the ambiguous “my people”—now appears in a different light. The reason is that Uriel regards “Israel” as a category that applies to the past and present, but not to the all-important eschatological future.63 It may be objected that this is reading too much into the term “the living” in 7:14. Uriel persists in using such universal language throughout the third dialogue, however, when discussing the judgment and the future world. The use of universal language by no means implies an inclusive view of salvation, however.64 For example, when Ezra objects that “those who have done wickedly” (i.e., most people) “have suffered the difficult circumstances and will never see the easier ones” (7:18), Uriel explains that this is as it should be, “For the Lord strictly commanded those who came into the world, when they came, what they should do to live, and what they should observe to avoid punishment: (7:21, emphasis mine). Later in the third dialogue, in response to a similar objection, Uriel declares, “This is the significance of the contest that all who are born on earth shall wage: if they are defeated they shall suffer what you have said, but if they are victorious they shall receive what I have said” (7:127–28, emphasis mine). He goes on to relate this “way” to Moses’ command to “the people” to “choose life” (7:129; cf. Deut 30:19)—but this is just a biblical illustration for Ezra’s benefit of what Uriel is claiming is a universal choice. He is very clear that Israel has not chosen any better than other peoples: “But they did not believe him or the prophets after him, or even myself who have spoken to them” (7:130). This is the only time that Uriel explicitly denies Ezra’s

63 Longenecker (Eschatology and the Covenant, 96) remarks that Uriel, “with his rigid individualism, undermines the basis of a covenantal conception of Israel. If the designation ‘Israel’ is meaningful at all for Uriel, it is as a reference to the few who earn their way into the next age through faultless obedience to the law.” In fact, Uriel never designates these few as ‘Israel’ anywhere in the dialogues. Although Longenecker retains the above formulation in his later guide to 4 Ezra and even clarifies that the few are “no doubt, Jews” (2 Esdras, 51), he emphasizes even more how peripheral the “covenantal framework” is to Uriel’s theology (ibid., 46–47). 64 See Ronald Herms, An Apocalypse for the Church and for the World: The Narrative Function of Universal Language in the Book of Revelation (BZNW 143; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2006), especially 98–120 on 4 Ezra. Herms sees a “narrow, exclusivist expression of eschatological hope” throughout the seven episodes (ibid., 119), but he arrives at this assessment by conflating Uriel’s emphasis on the few who will be saved with the nationalistic eschatology of the visions of the Eagle and the Man from the Sea.

132

chapter three

belief that Israel is the people who have “believed [God’s] covenants” (3:32, 5:29).65 In the third dialogue, Ezra ceases to contrast Israel and the nations as he gets drawn into the discussion about the fate of sinners (“the many”) versus that of the righteous (“the few”). Ezra pleads the cause of the mass of sinful humanity as passionately as he had that of Israel, using similar arguments from Scripture (see below, section 3.5). For his part, Uriel simply ignores Ezra’s appeals to Scripture (with their implication that God’s behavior toward Israel in the past is representative of “the way of the Most High”) and continues to speak in universal terms about the future. For instance, in response to Ezra’s list of biblical exempla of intercession (7:106–111), Uriel contrasts the biblical past, when “the strong prayed for the weak” (7:112) with “the end,” when “no one will . . . be able to have mercy on someone who has been condemned in the judgment, or to harm someone who is victorious” (7:115). Likewise, when Ezra midrashically elaborates on Exod 34:6–7 in order to demonstrate that God will have mercy on “the innumerable multitude” (7:132–140), Uriel’s curt reply is “The Most High made this world for the sake of many, but the world to come for the sake of only a few” (8:1). In the midst of his most poignant appeal for mercy on sinful humanity, Ezra realizes that he has lost sight of his original complaint: “And now I will speak out: About all humankind you know best; but I will speak about your people, for whom I am grieved, and about your inheritance, for whom I lament, and about Israel, for whom I am sad, and about the seed of Jacob, for whom I am troubled” (8:15–16). As mentioned above (section 2), this is a clear indication that the author was conscious of the distinction between Ezra’s two concerns (with

65 In the context of Uriel’s lengthy description of the experiences of the souls of sinners and the righteous after death, Uriel mentions that the “third way” in which sinners will be tormented is to see “the reward laid up for those who have trusted the injunctions of the Most High” (7:83, Stone’s translation, following the Ethiopic and Arabic 1 versions; Syriac and other versions omit the phrase). In place of “injunctions,” the Latin versions have “covenants” (testamentis), which is adopted by the NRSV. Stone is probably right to prefer “injunctions,” since the corresponding “third order” of the righteous is that “they see the witness which he who formed them bears concerning them, that while they were alive they kept the law which was given them in trust” (7:94, Stone’s translation). In 7:24, however, Uriel uses the word “covenants” (in the Latin, Syriac and Ethiopic versions) as a synonym for “law” and “statutes.” Even if the reading “covenants” in 7:83 is original, therefore, it is clear that Uriel is using the word in a different sense than Ezra does in 3:32 and 5:29.

the dialogues of 4 ezra as a wisdom debate

133

Israel and with “all humankind”) and deliberately shifted the focus of the debate in the third dialogue. Ezra does not manage to adhere to his resolution: his long intercessory prayer (8:20–36), modeled on the prayers in Ezra 9, Nehemiah 9 and Daniel 9, begins by asking God to overlook the sins of “your people” (8:26) but ends by appealing for mercy on “mortals” (8:34) in general. Uriel’s response does not acknowledge that Ezra has revived the question of Israel’s fate: “. . . I will not concern myself about the fashioning of those who have sinned, or about their death, their judgment, or their destruction, but I will rejoice over the creation of the righteous, over their pilgrimage also, and their salvation, and their receiving their reward” (8:38–39). The way Ezra’s attention shifts back and forth between the universal human condition and the particular situation of Israel is reminiscent of the covenantal wisdom of Ben Sira, although Ezra is considerably more pessimistic about both subjects. He is also much more blatant than Ben Sira about asserting God’s preference for Israel over other nations. In this respect, he is more in line with Baruch, the other example of covenantal wisdom treated in the previous chapter. Like Ben Sira, however, he has a tendency to use universal language when he is obviously thinking primarily of the covenant people.66 This tendency manifests itself when he uses Scripture to make an argument about all people (7:106–11 and 132–40) or gradually shifts from praying for Israel to praying for sinners in general (8:20–36). Ezra’s emphasis on the election aspect of the covenant over the obligations that attend it recalls Ben Sira’s use of the term “covenant(s)” in Sir 44:17–45:26. Uriel, on the other hand, consistently uses universal language (except when he directly addresses Ezra’s questions about Israel, as in 5:33 and 7:10–11) and draws dualistic distinctions along ethical, rather than ethnic, lines. That is, he continually contrasts Ezra—and the few who are righteous like him—with the mass of humanity. This pattern is consistent with 4QInstruction, which uses election language to set the implied addressee apart from humankind in general (e.g., 4Q418 81 1–3) and never refers to “Israel.”67 The covenant between God and Israel 66 Luis Alonso Schökel argues that in Sir 16:24–17:14, Ben Sira speaks “of man[kind] in general from the point of view of Israel.” See his essay “The Vision of Man in Sirach 16:24–17:14,” in Israelite Wisdom: Theological and Literary Essays in Honor of Samuel Terrien (ed. John G. Gammie et al.; Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press for Union Theological Seminary, 1978), 243 (emphasis his), and see above, chapter I, section 3.3. 67 According to Strugnell and Harrington (DJD 34, 25), the term “Israel” is not attested in the extant fragments, and ‫ עם‬occurs rarely. See above, chapter II, section 2.2.

134

chapter three

is not an important concept in Uriel’s theology (or in 4QInstruction) because it will have no influence on the final judgment, which is strictly on an individual basis. Nevertheless, Torah (in the abstract) occupies a place of central importance in Uriel’s version of eschatological wisdom, comparable to the role assigned to the raz nihyeh in 4QInstruction (see above, chapter II, section 2.1). 3.4

The Significance of the Torah

Ezra presents a complex and inconsistent view of the Torah in his first lament. He first uses the word “law” (lex) in the context of the theophany at Sinai (3:17–19), so by “law” he clearly means the Mosaic Torah (although, curiously, Moses is not mentioned in Ezra’s summary of Israel’s history).68 As mentioned in the previous section, Ezra views the Sinai covenant as the fulfillment of the election of Jacob/Israel: “Your glory passed through the four gates of fire and earthquake and wind and ice, to give the law to the descendents of Jacob, and your commandment to the posterity of Israel” (3:19). In that verse, “law” is parallel to “commandment” (diligentia), which was used earlier of the single commandment that Adam transgressed (3:7). Immediately after recounting the events at Sinai, Ezra turns to the problem of the transgression of Adam and the “evil heart.” The way he explains the relationship of the law to the “evil heart” has a timeless, universal quality, despite its context in the midst of a summary of Israel’s history: 20 Yet you did not take away their evil heart from them, so that your law might produce fruit in them. 21For the first Adam, burdened with an evil heart, transgressed and was overcome, as were also all who were descended from him. 22Thus the disease became permanent; the law was in the hearts of the people along with the evil root; but what was good departed and the evil remained.

68 Assuming that 4 Ezra was written in Hebrew, lex presumably translates ‫ התורה‬in this context and a form of ‫( תורה‬whether definite or indefinite) probably underlies the 27 other references to “law” in the extant versions (3:20, 22; 4:23; 5:27; 7:17, 20, 24, 72, 79, 81, 89, 94, 133; 8:12, 29, 56; 9:11, 31, 32 [twice], 36, 37; 13:38, 54; 14:21, 22, 30. The phrase referring to the law is lacking in the Syriac version of 7:79). I have argued elsewhere that the author of 4 Ezra had a very broad concept of “Torah,” consistent with rabbinic usage, and that the extant versions, following the first Greek translations, obscure its range of meanings by rendering ‫ תורה‬consistently as “law.” See my article, “The Meanings of tôrâ in 4 Ezra,” JSJ 38 (2007): 530–52.

the dialogues of 4 ezra as a wisdom debate

135

Taken out of context, this passage sounds like it is describing a universal human condition, but for the mention of “the people” in 3:22.69 Of course Ezra is in fact speaking from the perspective of Israel, but to imply that all of the descendents of Adam are accountable to God in the same way as Israel helps to further his argument. The point he is leading up to is that sin is universal, but Israel has kept the commandments better than other nations (3:35). His closing remark underscores the implication that keeping the commandments is not Israel’s obligation alone: “You may indeed find individuals who have kept your commandments, but nations you will not find” (3:36). The incoherence of Ezra’s position on the Torah comes into sharp focus with this last statement: how could “individuals” (homines per nomina) from other nations keep the commandments if they were given only to Israel?70 These apparently conflicting assumptions about the Torah—that it is a gift marking Israel’s election, and also a set of obligations incumbent upon humanity in general—can in fact both be found in Sirach. Ben Sira does not juxtapose these two views of the Torah in a single passage, however, but rather varies his presentation of the Torah depending on the context. In Sir 24:23, Wisdom is identified with “the law that Moses commanded us as an inheritance for the congregations of Jacob,” and the message of the whole poem is that Wisdom’s dwelling is in Israel. Similarly, the passage on Moses in the Praise of the Fathers concludes: “and [God] gave him the commandments face to face, the law of life and knowledge, so that he might teach Jacob the covenant, and Israel his decrees” (45:5). In these contexts, the Torah is a gift intended for the descendents of Jacob/Israel, and nothing is said about other nations’ possessing it. In the context of the long passage on moral responsibility (15:11– 18:14), however, Ben Sira implies that keeping the commandments is expected of all the descendents of Adam: “It was [God] who created humankind in the beginning, and he left them in the power of their

69 The idea of the law being “in the hearts of the people” may be an allusion to Jer 31:31–34, but while there it is presented as a future solution to the problem of the broken covenant, here Ezra doubts that even an internalized law can overcome the “evil root.” 70 Longenecker (Eschatology and the Covenant, 56) suggests that Ezra may be referring to gentile proselytes who observe the Mosaic Torah. While his suggestion makes sense of this particular verse, it is inconsistent with Ezra’s statement on the Torah in the second lament.

136

chapter three

own free choice [Heb: ‫]יצר‬. If you choose, you can keep the commandments, and to act faithfully is a matter of your own choice” (15:14–15). Later in the same passage he slips from a discussion of the creation of humankind, in which he says that God “filled them with knowledge and understanding, and showed them good and evil” (17:7) to a description of the covenant-making at Sinai which begins “He bestowed knowledge upon them, and allotted to them the law of life” (17:11)—without indicating any change in the antecedent of “them.” Even though we concluded in the previous chapter that Ben Sira speaks throughout this passage from the point of view of Israel, one could easily infer from his universal language that he believed that other nations are bound by “the commandments.” Ezra’s single statement about “the law” in his second lament may be read as an attempt to reconcile these two conflicting views of the Torah. At the end of his catalogue of biblical metaphors for election, he abruptly shifts to a literal statement of his point: “and from all the multitudes of peoples you have gotten for yourself one people; and to this people, whom you have loved, you have given the law that is approved by all” (5:27). The question raised by the first lament is answered: even if the other nations were not “given” the same law as Israel, they know about it and recognize its validity—and hence they are bound by it.71 Neither Ben Sira nor the author of the wisdom poem in Baruch claims that other nations actually recognize the Torah, but the implication of identifying the Torah with Wisdom, an international ideal, is that the law would be “approved by all” if it were known. The closing verses of the Baruch poem celebrate the fact that the content of the Torah is known only to Israel: “Do not give your glory to another, or your advantages to an alien people. Happy are we, O Israel, for we know what is pleasing to God” (Bar 4:3–4). Ben Sira has a more expansive outlook on the Torah in the Praise of Wisdom: after identifying Wisdom with the “book of the covenant of the Most High God” (24:23), he extends the law to all places and times by comparing it to the major rivers of the world (Sir 24:25–27) and declaring, “The first man did not

71 Stone (Fourth Ezra, 131) notes that the translation “that is approved by all” (which he follows) is supported by the Latin, Syriac and Georgian versions, but that the other versions differ. The textual variants probably reflect the translators’ discomfort (shared by some modern commentators) with what the verse implies. The notion that the Torah is “approved by all” could easily be inferred from Deut 4:6–8, however.

the dialogues of 4 ezra as a wisdom debate

137

know [her] fully, nor will the last one fathom her” (24:28).72 Ben Sira’s poetic ambiguity is certainly more subtle than declaring the Torah to be “approved by all,” but the idea of universal recognition of the Torah is present in embryonic form. Ezra’s position falls somewhere between that of Ben Sira and the later rabbinic teaching that the Torah was explicitly rejected by other nations.73 Stone thinks Ezra may be alluding to the rejection of the Torah by other nations when he adds, “And those who opposed your promises have trampled on those who believed your covenants” (5:29).74 If so, this verse is highly inconsistent with the description of the Torah as “approved by all.” Probably “those who opposed your promises” refers to other nations’ interference with Israel’s possession of its “inheritance” (6:59), Ezra’s primary concern, rather than to their attitude toward the law. Ezra shows no interest in how the nations came to know the law and how much they know about it. His purpose in both laments is not so much to denigrate the nations as to elevate Israel in God’s eyes, by putting in perspective their collective failure to keep the law perfectly. Ezra’s point in the first lament is that while no one can keep the commandments perfectly because of the “evil heart,” Israel has done better than other nations because they “believed [God’s] covenants” (3:32). The second lament implies that this is because they regard their possession of the Torah as evidence of God’s love for them (5:27). Uriel’s position regarding the Torah does not emerge until the third dialogue, after the discussion of “Israel’s portion” (7:10–16). In the context of that discussion, Uriel alludes in passing to “when Adam transgressed my statutes” (7:11). While the plural “statutes” contrasts with Ezra’s statement that Adam was given “one commandment” (3:7),

72 The NRSV supplies “wisdom” as the antecedent of “her” in 24:28 (as the Greek demands), but the antecedent was probably ambiguous in the original Hebrew—this verse and the next could have been read as referring to the Torah. See above, chapter II, section 3.1 and note 157. 73 See Urbach, The Sages, 532–33. Urbach observes that the commandments cited to explain their refusal (which are based on the biblical etiologies of the nations in question) are actually included in the Noachide laws, “whose observance is incumbent upon the whole human race.” 74 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 132. He provides the references assembled by Urbach in his comment on 3:33, “For I have traveled widely among the nations and have seen that they abound in wealth, though they are unmindful of your commandments,” in which Stone detects an allusion to this belief (Fourth Ezra, 76, note 96). In context, however, this verse seems to mean that “the nations” are less attentive to keeping the commandments than Israel, not that they refuse to recognize the commandments.

138

chapter three

the implications of this subtle shift emerge only in the following speech about the law.75 In it, Uriel affirms one side of Ezra’s position—that obedience is demanded of all people—while subtly undercutting the assumptions that are inconsistent with that belief; namely, that the law was given only to Israel, that Israel has kept it better than other nations, and that no one can be expected to keep it perfectly: Let many perish who are now living, rather than that the law of God that is set before them be disregarded! 21For the Lord strictly commanded those who came into the world, when they came, what they should do to live, and what they should observe to avoid punishment. 22Nevertheless they were not obedient, and spoke against him: they devised for themselves vain thoughts, 23and proposed to themselves wicked frauds; they even declared that the Most High does not exist, and they ignored his ways. 24They scorned his law, and denied his covenants; they have been unfaithful to his statutes, and have not performed his works. 25That is the reason, Ezra, that empty things are for the empty, and full things are for the full. 20

Uriel makes clear in 7:20–21 that the “law of God” was “set before” all people equally, at the time when they “came into the world.” Verse 21 sounds, in the context of the creation of humankind, like an allusion to Gen 2:16–17, but it also has a Deuteronomic ring to it (cf. especially Deut 30:15–19). Apparently, a conflation of creation and law-giving similar to that in Sir 15:14–17 and 17:1–14 lies behind Uriel’s allusion to “when Adam transgressed my statutes” (7:11).76 Of course the point of this conflation is not so much that Adam was given the Torah and transgressed it, as that the Torah is given to all people by virtue of their being created by God. Uriel uses an exegetical motif familiar from Sirach, the law-giving at creation, to affirm the universal side of Ezra’s view of the law. Uriel’s use of Deuteronomic language, which continues in vv. 22–24, has a different point, however: it challenges Ezra’s belief that Israel has kept the law better than the other nations. Uriel does not exempt Israel from the charge that the wicked “denied [God’s] covenants,” a direct contradiction of Ezra’s claim that Israel “believed [God’s] covenants” (3:32, 5:29). The speech as a whole, and the last 75 Stone (Fourth Ezra, 194–95) cites the interpretation of this verse by Jervell (Imago Dei, 43), to the effect that the commandment to Adam contained the entire Torah in nuce. Jervell does not in fact offer any parallels for this notion, however. 76 Just as Ben Sira alludes to Deut 30:19 in Sir 15:17, Uriel quotes Deut 30:19 later on (7:129), in the context of “the contest that all who are born on earth shall wage” (7:127). See Stone, Fourth Ezra, 197, 200.

the dialogues of 4 ezra as a wisdom debate

139

verse in particular, chastises Ezra for suggesting that no one can really be expected to keep the law perfectly (3:35; cf. 3:20–22, 26).77 The fact that Uriel does not distinguish between Israel and the nations in his accusations against “those who came into the world” suggests that he recognizes no difference between them with respect to obedience to God’s law. A potential objection to this interpretation is that in the context of the judgment scenario that follows, Uriel says, “Then the Most High will say to the nations that have been raised from the dead, ‘Look now, and understand whom you have denied, whom you have not served, whose commandments you have despised’” (7:37).78 It is natural to assume that “nations” ( gentes) must mean “Gentiles,” but the rest of the passage and all of Uriel’s other statements about the final judgment in the dialogues make it clear that it is a universal judgment, with no distinction made between Israel and other nations.79 Unfortunately, the judgment scene contains no corresponding address to the righteous as a basis for comparison, but if this verse is to be reconciled with the rest of Uriel’s speeches, it must be read as addressed to the sinners of all nations, including Israel (but not singling Israel out). Uriel’s chastisement of non-Israelites for failing to obey “the law of God” raises the same question as Ezra’s conflicting statements about the law: how are other nations expected to know what is required by God if only Israel possesses the Torah? Interpreters who do not distinguish clearly between Ezra’s views and those expressed by Uriel tend to conclude that the author had an ethnocentric perspective and believed that Torah-observance was the only path to salvation. For example, Box reads 7:20–24 as referring exclusively to “the heathen world” and as alluding to the rabbinic notion that the Torah “was offered by God

77 That for Uriel, observing the law means at least striving to keep it perfectly becomes clear in Uriel’s later speech concerning what happens to the souls of the righteous and wicked immediately after death. There he says concerning the righteous, “During the time that they lived in [their mortal body], they laboriously served the Most High, and withstood danger every hour so that they might keep the law of the Lawgiver perfectly” (7:89). 78 It is on the basis of this verse that Thompson (Responsibility for Evil, 199) concludes that by “the many” Uriel designates the Gentiles, which leads him to the conclusion (ibid., 212–13) that by “the righteous” Uriel means Israel, or possibly a remnant thereof. 79 Stone (Fourth Ezra, 222) comments that “the whole tenor of the description seems to point to” a contrast between the righteous and the wicked, not Israel and the nations.”

140

chapter three

to the Gentiles and deliberately refused by them.”80 Eckhard Schnabel takes the opposite view, arguing that since “the law” in 7:17 (spoken by Ezra) is the Mosaic Torah, the same must be true of 7:20 (spoken by Uriel), and therefore “the recipients of the law in vv. 17.20–21 are not mankind in general but Israel.”81 Once Uriel’s statements are distinguished from Ezra’s, however, it becomes clear that Uriel is pushing Ezra toward an understanding of the Torah that is very abstract and universal, and not tied to God’s covenant with Israel. He is extremely vague about the content of the divine law, however, and about the form in which it is revealed to human beings. He sometimes uses “law” as a synonym for “the way(s) of the Most High” (7:79, 8:56), which is definitely a broader concept than the Torah of Moses, since in the first two dialogues it refers to the mysterious divine plan that is beyond human understanding. On the other hand, in response to Ezra’s lament on the mind (7:62–69), Uriel insists that the Torah is accessible to human understanding (7:71–72; see above, section 3.2). The parallelism of “mind” and “understanding” with “commandments” and “law” in 7:71–72 suggests that the latter terms are associated with an inherent knowledge of right and wrong, or an unwritten moral code that is universal.82 The particular commandments of the Torah, which must be what Uriel means by “covenants” in 7:24 and 7:83 (see above, note 65), would then be understood as just one expression of a divine law that is available to all people through their “understanding.” Uriel’s affirmation that “the mind grows with us” suggests that he is referring to a faculty that has a dynamic aspect. Above (section 3.2), it was suggested that Uriel considers the human “mind” or “understanding” to be synonymous with “conscience”—i.e., that moral decision-making is its proper sphere. Even though the Torah (in this abstract, universal sense) is “set before” every human being by

G. H. Box, “IV Ezra,” in APOT, 2:581. Eckhard J. Schnabel, Law and Wisdom from Ben Sira to Paul: A Tradition Historical Enquiry into the Relation of Law, Wisdom and Ethics (WUNT II/16; Tübingen: Mohr/ Siebeck, 1985), 144. For Schnabel, the contrast between the just and the ungodly throughout the third dialogue therefore refers to “groups within (!) Israel” (exclamation point his). 82 A striking parallel to this passage is found in 2 Baruch 15:5–6: “It is true that man would not have understood my judgment if he had not received the law and if he were not instructed with understanding. But now, because he trespassed, having understanding, he will be punished because he has understanding.” 80 81

the dialogues of 4 ezra as a wisdom debate

141

virtue of their being created by God (7:20–21), there is also a sense in which it is learned through life’s experiences. It has been suggested that the Stoic concept of “natural law” may underlie Uriel’s understanding of the Torah.83 The obvious objection to this suggestion is that the author of 4 Ezra exhibits none of the interest in Hellenistic philosophy that prompted Philo of Alexandria to associate the Torah with the “law of the cosmos.”84 On the other hand, Uriel’s manner of instructing Ezra about the “way of the Most High” implies that God is the source of the rules or laws governing the natural order. For example, Uriel concludes one of his analogies between the earth and a woman’s womb, “For as an infant does not bring forth, and a woman who has become old does not bring forth any longer, so I have made the same rule for the world that I created” (5:49). Since Uriel has recourse to the rules of the natural order in nearly all of his arguments, and at the same time holds the “law of the Most High” in such high regard (cf. 7:20), it is quite possible that “the law of the Most High” encompasses what we would call the laws of nature. Uriel never draws an explicit connection between his arguments from nature and his view of the Torah, but given the consistent emphasis on both in his speeches, there is at least an implicit connection between them. A similar association of the regularity of the natural order and the “law of the Lord” occurs in 1 Enoch 2–5, but there too the connection between them is unspecified. I argued above (chapter II, section 3.1) that Ben Sira brought the Torah into the Jewish wisdom tradition by attributing to it the qualities associated with transcendent Wisdom, but the relationship between the Torah and the natural order remains

83 Stefan Beyerle, “ ‘Du bist kein Richter über dem Herrn’: Zur Konzeption von Gesetz und Gericht im 4. Esrabuch,” in Recht und Ethos im Alten Testament (ed. S. Beyerle, G. Mayer and H. Strauss; Neukirchen: Neukirchener Verlag, 1999), 315–37. 84 De Opificio Mundi 1.3; cf. De Abrahamo 3–6, De Vita Mosis 2:9–11. See Gisela Striker, “Origins of the Concept of Natural Law,” in Essays on Hellenistic Epistemology and Ethics (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1996), 209–220; Hindy Najman, Seconding Sinai: The Development of Mosaic Discourse in Second Temple Judaism ( JSJSup 77; Leiden: Brill, 2003), 70–107; idem, “A Written Copy of the Law of Nature: An Unthinkable Paradox?” SPhilo 15 (2003): 54–63. Other Hellenized Jewish authors, such as Josephus and Pseudo-Phocylides, appear to have been influenced by the Stoic concept of natural law; see Gregory Sterling, “Universalizing the Particular: Natural Law in Second Temple Jewish Ethics,” SPhilo 15 (2003): 64–80. By contrast, Markus Bockmuehl (“Natural Law in Second Temple Judaism,” VT 45 [1995]: 17–44) finds very little evidence of natural law thought in what he calls “Palestinian scribal circles” (ibid., 44), including Ben Sira, the Dead Sea Scrolls, and the early rabbinic literature, or in the apocalyptic literature, even though he uses a fairly broad definition of natural law.

142

chapter three

unclear in his book. This relationship is no more clearly spelled out in Uriel’s speeches than in Sirach or the introduction to the Book of the Watchers, so it is unlikely that the author of 4 Ezra was familiar with the more specific notion of natural law that developed in Hellenistic Judaism. If the debate between Ezra and Uriel over the significance of the Torah reflects an actual debate between covenantal and eschatological wisdom, it would appear that the difference between the two schools they represent was more one of emphasis than a substantial disagreement. In fact, in the middle of the third dialogue Ezra echoes Uriel’s more universal view of the Torah in the context of a monologue on God’s ongoing creation of human beings. After praising God for creating a child in its mother’s womb and providing for its sustenance after birth, Ezra continues: “. . . afterwards you will still guide it in your mercy. You have nurtured it in your righteousness, and instructed it in your law, and reproved it in your wisdom” (8:11–12). One might suppose that Ezra is simply speaking about humankind from the perspective of Israel again, except that a few verses later he explicitly shifts his focus from “all humankind” to “your people” (8:15). The parallelism between Torah and wisdom, especially in the context of creation, is of course typical of covenantal wisdom, but here Ezra is silent on the covenantal aspect of the Torah. Similarly, at the beginning of the same prayer, Ezra prays for understanding and wisdom (8:4) using the same agricultural imagery he had used in connection with the Torah in 3:20: “. . . give us a seed for our heart and cultivation of our understanding so that fruit may be produced, by which every mortal who bears the likeness of a human being may be able to live” (8:6).85 If Ezra is in fact alluding here to the “sowing” of the Torah in the human heart (cf. 9:31), then he would appear to have accepted Uriel’s position that salvation is possible for anyone who produces the “fruit” of a store of good works through Torah-observance (a view Ezra echoes in 8:33). On the other hand, Ezra returns to the same imagery in his fourth lament (9:28–37), where it is clear that he has given up neither his covenantal understanding of the law nor his conviction that no one has been able to keep it (see below, section 5).

85

270.

Michael P. Knowles, “Moses, the Law and the Unity of 4 Ezra,” NT 31 (1989):

the dialogues of 4 ezra as a wisdom debate

143

The Wisdom-Torah synthesis achieved by Ben Sira had a lasting impact on Jewish wisdom traditions and, subsequently, on rabbinic Judaism. Ezra represents the views of those sages who chose to emphasize the covenantal context of the Torah for Israel while occasionally alluding to its universal validity and cosmic dimension. If Sanders is correct about the pervasiveness of “covenantal nomism” in Judaism both before and after Paul,86 Ezra’s view of the Torah is probably meant to be representative of that of the majority of educated Jews at the end of the first century c.e. Uriel, by contrast, alludes to the covenantal context of the Torah only in passing (by using “covenants” as a synonym for “commandments” in 7:24 and 7:83) and stresses its universal applicability, associating it with the mysterious “way of the Most High.” The extent to which Uriel’s emphasis on the Torah is representative of eschatological wisdom is uncertain, because Torah in the abstract is not a theme in 4QInstruction, although it does contain a number of specific allusions to the Torah.87 Although the lofty and nebulous character of the Torah in Uriel’s speeches is somewhat reminiscent of the raz nihyeh in 4QInstruction, Uriel’s emphasis on the availability of the Torah to human understanding is at odds with the revelation of the raz nihyeh exclusively to the elect. It may be that Uriel’s views on the Torah are meant to represent a later stage of eschatological wisdom in which the Torah was a major theme, as it is in some of the other sapiential texts from Qumran.88 3.5

Divine Justice and Mercy

As with the previous two issues, the tension between God’s justice and his mercy is not the subject of open debate until the third dialogue. All of Ezra’s laments are motivated by an underlying questioning of theodicy, however, so God’s justice is debated as a separate issue in the first two dialogues. Uriel does not respond directly to Ezra’s questions about why Babylon, or the nations in general, have triumphed over Israel, on the grounds that the way of the Most High is beyond human

86 E. P. Sanders, Paul and Palestinian Judaism: A Comparison of Patterns of Religion (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1977). Sanders views 4 Ezra as an exception to the pattern of covenantal nomism, however, because he assumes that Uriel speaks for the author. See chapter I, section 2.1 on Sanders’s treatment of 4 Ezra in Paul and Palestinian Judaism. 87 See above, chapter II, section 2 and Goff, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 69–73. 88 E.g., 4Q185 (Sapiential Work); 4Q419 (Sap. Work B) and 4Q525 (Beatitudes), especially fragments 2 and 4.

144

chapter three

understanding. Nevertheless, his arguments in the first two dialogues advance two implicit theodicies. The first is that the way of the Most High is consistent with the order of creation, and therefore just. That this is the implication of most, if not all, of his arguments from nature can be seen from the form of the first one. After telling Ezra a parable about a forest and a sea that attempted to usurp one another’s places, he asks, “If now you were a judge between them, which would you undertake to justify, and which to condemn?” (4:18). He repeats the language of judgment in his affirmation of Ezra’s response (4:20), implying that what is natural is just. Even in the third dialogue, Uriel does not refer explicitly to God’s justice, but it is implicit in his many discussions of the final judgment. Uriel’s second implied theodicy is that while “this age is full of sadness and infirmities” (4:27), all will be made right at the end of the age (6:25–28). The latter theodicy predominates in the predictive sections, naturally, but in response to Ezra’s questions about the timing of the end, Uriel continues to use analogies to natural phenomena to justify the divine plan (e.g., 5:43–55). While Ezra’s less confrontational questions in the predictive sections imply that he accepts Uriel’s second theodicy in principle at least, the dynamic of the discussion shifts in the third dialogue as Ezra begins to realize what divine justice entails: “And now I see that the world to come will bring delight to few, but torments to many” (7:47). Although he does not question the justice of the fact “that the righteous shall inherit [the world to come], but that the ungodly shall perish” (7:17), he implies that God should have mercy on those who “have suffered the difficult circumstances [of this world] and will never see the easier ones” (7:18). Uriel responds angrily: “You are not a better judge than the Lord, or wiser than the Most High!” (7:19). From then on, Uriel is increasingly insistent on the justice of the divine plan as Ezra becomes bolder about suggesting that mercy, not justice, is God’s essential attribute. In his description of the judgment, Uriel is quite explicit that God will show no mercy: “The Most High shall be revealed on the seat of judgment, and compassion shall pass away, and patience shall be withdrawn. Only judgment shall remain, truth shall stand, and faithfulness shall grow strong” (7:33–34).89 When Ezra first raises the objection that it is because of the evil heart that “the world to come will bring delight 89 In this verse it is particularly evident that “judgment” (iudicium) is equivalent to “justice.”

the dialogues of 4 ezra as a wisdom debate

145

to few, but torments to many” (7:47–48), Uriel immediately musters both of his earlier strategies of justification. First he reminds Ezra, “For this reason [i.e., because of the evil heart] the Most High has made not one world but two” (7:50). Then, after introducing the analogy of precious stones and metals, he orders Ezra, “Judge therefore which things are precious and desirable, those that are abundant or those that are rare?” (7:57). Uriel does not hesitate to draw the “natural” conclusion (speaking for God): “I will rejoice over the few who will be saved . . . [but] I will not grieve over the great number of those who perish . . .” (7:60–61). For his part, Ezra refuses to give up his belief that God will show mercy toward his creatures at the time of the judgment. At first he inquires about the possibility of intercession by the righteous on behalf of the ungodly (7:102–3), summoning a series of biblical examples of intercession (7:106–11) in the face of Uriel’s denial. After Uriel reiterates that there will be no grief over the destruction of the wicked (7:131), he extols God’s mercy by means of a midrash on Exod 34:6–7 (7:132–40), concluding that God is called “the judge, because if he did not pardon those who were created by his word and blot out the multitude of their sins, there would probably be left only a very few of the innumerable multitude” (7:139–40). The epithet “judge” is very loosely connected to the lemma and is no doubt meant to extend to the final judgment the qualities of God mentioned in the previous verses (merciful, gracious, patient, bountiful, abundant in compassion). The explanation of “judge” is tendentious, of course, since it goes against the sense of Exod 34:7b, but the midrash as a whole is extremely effective rhetorically. After a terse response by Uriel that merely confirms that “many have been created, but only a few shall be saved” (8:1–3), Ezra launches into his lengthy monologue on the creation of human beings (8:4–19), which introduces his even longer prayer for mercy (8:20–36). This prayer is such a penitential tour-de-force that in medieval Spain it enjoyed a much wider circulation than the rest of the book, appearing in numerous liturgical manuscripts.90 Uriel is unmoved by Ezra’s eloquence and

90 A. F. J. Klijn, Der Lateinische Text der Apokalypse des Esra (Berlin: Akademie-Verlag, 1983), 16–17. In fact, it is preceded in the text by an introductory phrase that reflects its independent status: “The beginning of the words of Ezra’s prayer, before he was taken up. He said:” (8:19b). Daniel Boyarin has argued that the list of examples of intercession, the midrash on Exod 34:6–7 and the present Prayer of Ezra are all reflections of an early form of the Jewish penitential (‫ )סליחות‬liturgy. See his article, “Penitential Liturgy in 4 Ezra,” JSJ 3 (1972): 30–34. Stone (Fourth Ezra, 256) comments

146

chapter three

insists yet again on his lack of concern for the wicked (8:38), adding, “As I have spoken, therefore, so it shall be” (8:40). This last remark is the first hint that Uriel recognizes the power of Ezra’s arguments, since he has to assert his authority in order to maintain the upper hand. He then attempts to undercut Ezra’s faith in God’s care for human beings by comparing them to seeds sown in the ground, only a few of which will take root (8:41). Uriel’s strategy backfires, however. Perhaps emboldened by his own eloquence, Ezra dares for the first time to challenge the validity of one of Uriel’s analogies: If the farmer’s seed does not come up, because it has not received your rain in due season, or if it has been ruined by too much rain, it perishes. 44 But people, who have been formed by your hands and are called your own image because they are made like you, and for whose sake you have formed all things—have you also made them like the farmer’s seed? 45 Surely not, O Lord above! But spare your people and have mercy on your inheritance, for you have mercy on your own creation. 43

As in his earlier monologue and prayer (8:4–36), Ezra continues to remind God of his covenant with Israel (“your people . . . your inheritance”) even as he pleads for humanity in general on the grounds that they are God’s creation. Whereas in the prayer he had compared human beings unfavorably with animals (8:30) and emphasized the insignificance of mortals (8:34), here (8:44) he alludes to Gen 1:26–28 in order to differentiate human beings from the rest of creation.91 Ezra’s challenge to the seed analogy puts Uriel on the defensive: after reasserting the two-age doctrine (8:46), he falls back on the argument of the second dialogue: “For you come far short of being able to love my creation more than I love it” (8:47; cf. 5:33, 40). In the same tone, he rebukes Ezra for including himself among the unrighteous (8:47), but then he seems to catch himself, and begins to praise Ezra for his humility (8:48–49). He promises Ezra glory and waxes rhapsodic about the rewards that await him in the world to come (8:49–54), in order to dissuade him from asking “any more questions about the great number of those who perish” (8:55). Uriel seems to back away from the implications of the seed analogy when he says “For the Most High did not intend that anyone should be destroyed, but those who were created

that “his case is intriguing but unproven.” On this prayer, see also Joan E. Cook, “Ezra’s Confession: Appeal to a Merciful God,” JSP 3 (1988): 89–100. 91 Cook, “Ezra’s Confession,” 97.

the dialogues of 4 ezra as a wisdom debate

147

have themselves defiled the name of him who made them, and have been ungrateful to him who prepared life for them now” (8:59–60). By adopting Ezra’s language of individual creation and suggesting that God regrets the loss of the many, he implicitly concedes the point that God cares about every human being, without giving up his main thesis, that sinners are responsible for their own destruction. After a final round of predictions of the “signs” of the end (9:1–13), Ezra’s last word in the third dialogue is, “I said before, and I say now, and will say it again: there are more who perish than those who will be saved, as a wave is greater than a drop of water” (9:15–16). Ezra acknowledges the inevitability of the destruction of the mass of humanity through an analogy in the manner of Uriel (cf. especially 4:48–50), but he lets it be known that his feelings about this situation have not changed. Uncharacteristically, Uriel responds more to the emotional content of this statement than to the verbal agreement with his position. He again admits to feeling regret about the corruption of “those who have been created in this world” (9:19), concluding, “So I considered my world, and saw that it was lost. I saw that my earth was in peril because of the devices of those who had come into it” (9:20). Then, for the first time, Uriel suggests that the salvation of even a few is evidence of divine mercy, or at least care for his creation: “And I saw and spared some with great difficulty, and saved for myself one grape out of a cluster, and one plant out of a great forest. So let the multitude perish that has been born in vain, but let my grape and my plant be saved, because with much labor I have perfected them” (9:21–22). The imagery suggests the prophetic motif of sparing a remnant of Israel (e.g., Isa 17:6, Amos 3:12),92 but especially Isa 65:8, “As the wine is found in the cluster, and they say ‘Do not destroy it, for there is a blessing in it,’ so I will do for my servants’ sake, and not destroy them all.” Gary Porton has pointed out that in the Targum and in Genesis Rabbah, Isa 65:8 was interpreted as referring to the sparing of Noah in

92 Stone (Fourth Ezra, 300) points out the first two prophetic parallels (but not Isa 65:8), and comments, “Here the language that originally described Israel is probably used to refer to the eschatological survivors, an idea found repeatedly in 4 Ezra.” By “eschatological survivors” he apparently means the righteous of the last generation (since he refers to his comment on 5:41), but Uriel seems to be speaking here about the salvation of the righteous from all generations, since the context of his remark about sparing “some” is that “those who have been created in this world . . . have become corrupt in their ways” (9:19).

148

chapter three

the generation of the flood.93 A similar image of a planting (an allusion to Isa 61:3) is used in 4Q418 81 13–14, and I argued above (chapter II, section 2.2) that there it symbolizes election, but not necessarily the concept of a remnant. Here the remnant symbolism is undeniably present,94 but in light of Uriel’s willingness to extend biblical motifs to humanity in general (cf. 7:127–31), the whole from which the part is spared need not be Israel. Similarly, the Targum of Isa 65:8 transfers a metaphor for sparing a remnant of Israel to Noah in the primeval past, and implies that God will do the same for his “righteous servants” in the eschatological future. It is more difficult to reconcile the notion of “sparing” a righteous remnant with Uriel’s emphasis throughout the third dialogue on individual responsibility for salvation.95 It would certainly be possible to conclude from the statement “with much labor I have perfected them” (9:22) that Ezra’s persistence has forced Uriel to concede that salvation is impossible without divine initiative. On the other hand, there is a tension between free will and determinism throughout Uriel’s speeches.96

Gary G. Porton, “The Grape-Cluster in Jewish Literature and Art of Late Antiquity,” JJS 27 (1976): 159–76. (Porton was apparently not aware of the grape-cluster imagery in 4 Ezra 9:21 and 12:42.) The Targum of Isa 65:8 reads, “Thus says the Lord, ‘As Noah was found righteous in the generation of the flood, and I promised not to destroy him in order to establish the world from him, so will I do for the sake of my righteous servants, that I may not destroy all” (trans. J. F. Stenning, quoted ibid., 160). Porton points out that “the generation of the flood” corresponds to the grape-cluster in Isa 65:8 (MT), while Noah corresponds to the (new) wine (‫)התירושׁ‬. It is possible that the author of 4 Ezra, or an interpretation on which he drew, understood ‫ התירושׁ‬in Isa 65:8 to refer to a grape rather new wine, since the context implies taking a single part from a whole (cf. Isa 65:9). 94 Thompson (Responsibility for Evil, 192) asserts that “the use of national election terminology is unmistakable” in 9:21–22, but as Longenecker (Eschatology and the Covenant, 93) observes, the author would hardly have used a single grape to symbolize the nation of Israel. While the vine and the grape cluster were common symbols for Israel, he argues, a single grape suggests a tiny remnant of Israel. However, later in the book Ezra himself is compared to “a cluster of grapes from the vintage” (12:42), in the context of the people’s complaint that he alone is left of all the prophets. (For the grape-cluster as a symbol of a man of knowledge or a leader, see Porton, “The Grape-Cluster,” 162–76.) Thus it is clear that the author of 4 Ezra used grape imagery to illustrate the concept of a remnant, but not necessarily a remnant of Israel. 95 Michael Knibb points out that this passage is unique among Uriel’s speeches in attributing the initiative in saving a few to God; elsewhere the few are said to save themselves by their own righteousness (see especially 7:88–99, 9:7–8; Ezra echoes this view of salvation in 8:33). See his brief but insightful commentary on 2 Esdras in The First and Second Books of Esdras (commentary on 1 Esdras by R. J. Coggins; CBC; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1979), 217. 96 A similar tension exists in 4QInstruction, where the predestination of the righteous 93

the dialogues of 4 ezra as a wisdom debate

149

He maintains that God planned the eschatological events before creating the world (6:6), and that the judgment will come when a predetermined number of righteous souls has been reached (4:36). Moreover, he implies throughout that the time of the end is fixed (e.g. 4:40–42, 5:44, 7:74). These data would tend to suggest that God has foreknowledge of the identity of the righteous, although Uriel does not state this outright. At the same time, Uriel stresses repeatedly that keeping the law is a matter of free choice and that all people have the ability to do so (e.g. 7:21–24, 72–73, 127–31). Therefore, since there is no acknowledgement that Uriel has suddenly reversed his position at the end of the dialogues, the remnant imagery should probably read merely as a last-ditch attempt to reconcile Ezra to the salvation of only a few by casting it in biblical terms. In that case the claim that “with much labor I have perfected them” may be merely a rhetorical way of underscoring that the path to salvation is difficult (cf. 7:12–14, 89, 92). Nevertheless, the ambiguity of Uriel’s final statement of the dialogues contributes to an impression that on the question of divine mercy, the author is more sympathetic to Ezra’s position than to Uriel’s. This impression is created by the contrast between Ezra’s poetical, allusive speeches and Uriel’s curt, repetitive replies in the middle section of the third dialogue. Moreover, Uriel retreats from the most extreme statement of his position on God’s indifference to sinners, the seed analogy (8:41), after Ezra challenges it. Thus, even though it is impossible for Ezra to win the argument against an angel who claims to speak for God, on this issue, at least, he holds his own.97 The attitudes of Ezra and Uriel towards divine justice and mercy are compatible, respectively, with the examples of covenantal and eschatological wisdom considered in the previous chapter. Ezra expects God to be both just and merciful, and does not see any conflict between the two attributes, although he focuses in the first two dialogues on

to salvation is explicit, and they have an advantage in terms of moral knowledge (see above, chapter II, section 2.3 on 4Q417 1 i 13–18, and cf. 4Q423 1–2 7–8), but the possibility of spiritual corruption or going astray is an ever-present threat (e.g., 4Q417 1 i 23, 27; 4Q417 2 iii 6–8). 97 Brandenburger and Harnisch are surely right that Uriel is the more authoritative voice in the dialogues, but that does not mean that Ezra must be wrong about everything. As Hayman (“Problem of Pseudonymity,” 51) observes, the author would hardly have chosen Ezra as the spokesman for a position he wished to discredit entirely. Thompson (Responsibility for Evil, 217 et passim) goes too far, however, in identifying Uriel’s position as the one the author seeks to undermine.

150

chapter three

the former and primarily on the latter in the third dialogue. He also assumes that God’s covenant with Israel in no way interferes with his justice and mercy towards the rest of humankind. Similarly, Ben Sira includes prayers for mercy on Israel (36:1–22, 50:22–24 and cf. 35:22b–26) and also addresses the balance between justice and mercy in God’s dealings with human beings in the long section on responsibility for sin (Sir 15:11–18:14; cf. 5:4–8). In spite of his insistence on individual responsibility for sin and God’s justice in punishing the wicked, Ben Sira turns in the latter part of this section to the theme of God’s mercy and forgiveness, in order to persuade sinners to repent (17:25–18:14). The specific reason he gives for God’s mercy on human beings is their mortality (17:29–32, 18:7–14; cf. 4 Ezra 8:34), but the larger context is God’s creation of human beings and concern for them (17:1–24), which is the basis for Ezra’s appeals for mercy. Although Ben Sira speaks from the perspective of Israel in this passage (15:11–18:14), he extends God’s mercy to all of his creatures: “The compassion of human beings is for their neighbors, but the compassion of the Lord is for every living thing” (18:13). Uriel’s theodicy depends on the belief in a just judgment as the culmination of history, and for him justice precludes the possibility of divine mercy upon sinners at that time. The denial of mercy to the wicked is inherent in the idea of a final judgment, obviously. On the other hand, in some descriptions of the final judgment, the righteous are granted mercy as a reward for their faithfulness (e.g. 1 Enoch 1:8, 27:4; cf. 4Q417 2 i 15–16). The implication, of course, is that without divine mercy even the righteous could not be saved. Thus Uriel’s final concession that divine compassion plays some part in the salvation of the righteous (9:20–22) is perhaps more typical of eschatological wisdom than his more extreme position that on the day of judgment “compassion shall pass away and patience shall be withdrawn” (7:33). Uriel’s view of the judgment as revealing the divine qualities of “truth” and “faithfulness” (7:34) is reminiscent, however, of the prevalence of the word ‫( אמת‬in both senses) in three fragments of 4QInstruction that concern the judgment: 4Q416 1 10–14, 4Q418 69 ii and 4Q418 126 i–ii. The assurance that they had access to the “truth”—which would be revealed to the majority of humanity only when it was too late for them to save themselves!—probably led to a certain lack of compassion among the “elect” of eschatological wisdom circles. The extreme position that Uriel takes against divine mercy may have been intended to provoke reflection on this potential pitfall of eschatological wisdom.

the dialogues of 4 ezra as a wisdom debate

151

4. The Eschatology of the Dialogues Perhaps the most significant feature that Uriel’s eschatology in the dialogues shares with that of 4QInstruction is the emphasis on individual salvation in the final judgment. Just as most of 4QInstruction is in second person singular direct address, and the addressee is continually exhorted to contemplate his reward in the world to come, Uriel repeatedly urges Ezra to forget about the fate of sinners and turn his mind to his own reward (6:31–34, 7:76–77, 8:47–62). On the judgment day, he insists, “all shall bear their own righteousness and unrighteousness” (7:105), with no possibility of intercession for another. His sharp ethical dualism, which is most pronounced in the lengthy passage contrasting the “ways” (or “orders”) of the spirits of sinners and the righteous immediately after death (7:78–99), is also reminiscent of 4QInstruction (especially 4Q418 69 ii, 4Q418 81 and 4Q418 126 i–ii; see above, chapter II, section 2.5). Uriel is more specific about the rewards of the righteous than about the punishment of the wicked, as is 4QInstruction. There are significant parallels between the rewards of the righteous described in 7:91–99, 119–125 and 8:52–54 and those that can be inferred from 4QInstruction.98 Conversely, Uriel’s eschatology in the dialogues for the most part lacks those themes of national-restoration eschatology that are also missing from 4QInstruction: the restoration of Zion and of the twelve tribes of Israel, the Messiah, and the eschatological war (see above, chapter II, section 2.5 and note 97). An exception is the mention of the revelation of the heavenly Zion in 7:26 and the coming of the Messiah in 7:28–29, which precede the description of the final judgment in 7:30–44. These events, so central to the visions in the second half of 4 Ezra, are mentioned in the context of the only full account of the eschatological events in the dialogues; to have omitted any mention of them would have created an outright contradiction between the dialogues and the visions that the author perhaps wanted to avoid.

98 For the eschatological rewards of paradise and the tree of life or knowledge (7:123, 8:52), cf. 4Q423 1–2 (cf. also 1 En. 25, 32); for the satisfaction of the righteous at the judgment of the wicked (7:93), cf. 4Q418 69 ii 7–9; for their rejoicing at being free from all the evils of this life (7:96, 8:53–54), cf. 4Q416 1 12–13; for their expectation of glory in the world to come (7:95), cf. 4Q418 126 i–ii 8, 4Q417 2 i 11; for their being made to shine like stars (7:97, 125; alluding to Dan 12:3), cf. 4Q418 69 ii 14–15.

152

chapter three

Nevertheless, the focus of this eschatological scenario is clearly the final judgment, which is universal (7:37). On the other hand, there is another passage in the dialogues that appears to make the triumph of the messianic kingdom of Israel over the Roman Empire the turning point between this age and the age to come.99 To Ezra’s question about “the dividing of the times,” by which he means “the end of the first age and the beginning of the age that follows” (6:7), Uriel responds in oracular fashion (6:8–10, Stone’s translation): From Abraham to Abraham, because from him were born Jacob and Esau, for Jacob’s hand held Esau’s heel from the beginning. 9For Esau is the end of this age, and Jacob is the beginning of the age that follows. 10 For the end of a man is his heel, and the beginning of a man is his hand; between the heel and the hand seek for nothing else, Ezra! 8

Based on numerous rabbinic parallels, Stone takes Esau as a code name for Rome, and hence interprets the passage to mean that the present age will end with the fall of Rome, and that the age to come will begin with the kingdom of Israel (i.e., the kingdom of the Messiah).100 This interpretation is consistent with the Eagle Vision (cf. 12:31–34), but it conflicts with the eschatological timetable that Uriel lays out in 7:26–44, where the turning point between this world and the world to come is the final judgment. It is also at odds with Uriel’s efforts in the dialogues to shift Ezra’s attention from Israel to humankind in general. Kabisch and Box, who assign these verses to the “Salathiel Apocalypse” (which in their view has a thoroughly universal eschatology)—identify Esau with the present corruptible world and Jacob with the future world of incorruption.101 Their interpretation (which can stand apart from the

99 On the shifting eschatological turning point in 4 Ezra, see Michael E. Stone, “Coherence and Inconsistency in the Apocalypses: The Case of ‘The End’ in 4 Ezra,” JBL 102 (1983): 229–43. 100 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 159–61. 101 Richard Kabisch, Das vierte Buch Esra auf seine Quellen untersucht (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck und Ruprecht’s Verlag, 1889), 50–51; Box, “IV Ezra,” in APOT, 2:575. Box thinks that the point of the passage is that no temporary messianic kingdom will intervene between the present age and the next (in opposition to the eschatology of other sources in the book). Jacob M. Myers (I and II Esdras [AB 42; Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1974], 201–202) favors the interpretation of Box and Kabisch (without accepting their source-critical hypothesis), although he cites Gunkel and Schürer in support of the view that Jacob and Esau represent Israel and Rome, respectively. The revised edition of Schürer, while presenting the evidence for the Esau-Rome identification, concludes that “it is more likely that Esau and Jacob merely symbolize

the dialogues of 4 ezra as a wisdom debate

153

source-critical hypothesis that underlies it) is worthy of consideration because the identification of Esau with Rome is far from certain, being based on later rabbinic sources.102 Jacob Neusner has pointed out that the equation Esau/Edom=Rome is not attested in any Tannaitic source; he ascribes its sudden ubiquity in Amoraic texts (such as Genesis Rabbah and Leviticus Rabbah) to the Christianization of Rome after Constantine. The identification of Rome with Esau (and sometimes with Ishmael) in post-Constantinian rabbinic sources, Neusner argues, acknowledges Christian claims to be heirs of Abraham without ceding Israel’s birthright; Christian Rome is Israel’s “brother, counterpart and nemesis.”103 While this explanation for the popularity of the RomeEsau identification after Constantine is plausible, Cohen persuasively traces its origins to Rabbi Akiba’s messianic interpretation of Balaam’s oracle in Num 24:17–19 (in which Edom is the enemy of Israel) during the Bar Kokhba revolt.104 Therefore, while it is not impossible that 4 Ezra 6:8–10 is the earliest example of the identification of Esau with Rome, it is by no means certain that in this passage Uriel introduces an element of national eschatology into the dialogues. 5. The Outcome of the Dialogues: Ezra’s Fourth Lament The fact that Ezra’s eloquent pleas for divine mercy apparently lead Uriel to modify his position on this issue militates against the conclusion that the sole purpose of the dialogues is to demolish Ezra’s skeptical

the present and future worlds.” See Emil Schürer, The History of the Jewish People in the Age of Jesus Christ (175 B.C.–A.D. 135) (3 vols.; rev. and ed. G. Vermes, F. Millar and M. Goodman; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1986), 3/1:298. 102 See Gerson Cohen, “Esau as Symbol in Early Medieval Thought,” in Jewish Medieval and Renaissance Studies (ed. A. Altmann; Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1967), 21–24; M. D. Herr, “Edom,” in Enc Jud 6:379–80. Both of these authors believe that the designation Esau (or Edom) for Rome does not antedate the Bar Kokhba revolt. Cohen comments, “In IV Ezra, Jacob and Esau clearly represent cycles of history, as much as they do specific empires. They are archetypal symbols of God’s love and God’s hate . . .” (Cohen, “Esau as Symbol,” 21). The symbolism of God’s love and hate, which Cohen no doubt derived from Mal 1:2–3, is consistent with the emphasis on this theme in the second dialogue (in which these verses fall). 103 Jacob Neusner, Transformations in Ancient Judaism: Textual Evidence for Creative Responses to Crisis (Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2004), 103–16 (here 106); see also idem, Judaism and Christianity in the Age of Constantine: History, Messiah, Israel and the Initial Confrontation (CSHJ; Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1987), 45, 52. 104 Cohen, “Esau as Symbol,” 22.

154

chapter three

worldview so that he can accept the “hidden wisdom” offered by Uriel.105 While Ezra’s contention that sin is inevitable and his implication that God is to blame may legitimately be called skeptical, his positions on the other issues debated in the dialogues are those of a faithful Jew struggling to reconcile his people’s fate with the traditions of covenantal wisdom. He defends these traditions tenaciously, albeit with varying degrees of success, against Uriel’s attempts to undermine them with the teachings of eschatological wisdom. Since Ezra never repudiates any of his original positions, it is unclear at the end of the third dialogue to what extent he has internalized Uriel’s instruction. The only point of Uriel’s that Ezra affirms before the end of the third dialogue is that many more will perish than will be saved in the final judgment (9:15–16)—but he says this by way of registering a complaint that he has in fact made several times in the course of the third dialogue. Even if Ezra does back away from blaming God for human sinfulness—which is by no means unambiguously clear in his final speech on the subject (7:116–26)—he never affirms Uriel’s view that individuals are fully responsible for their own choices. Although Uriel never directly answers Ezra’s question about why God has allowed Israel to be defeated by its enemies, Ezra’s determination to understand the “way of the Most High” arguably prevails over Uriel’s reluctance to discuss it, given the depth of the theological disputation in the third dialogue. Uriel manages to steer that dialogue toward the universal judgment and away from Ezra’s original concern with Israel’s fate, but Ezra recalls the original cause of his mourning in the middle of the third dialogue (8:15–16) and articulates it again, very poignantly, in the dialogue with the mourning woman (10:19–23), to be discussed in the next chapter. As the lament that opens the fourth episode reveals, Ezra even clings to his view of the Torah as a gift to Israel, in spite of its incompatibility with Uriel’s more abstract understanding of the Torah, which he tries to maintain at the same time. Ezra’s fourth lament (9:29–37) will be considered here because of what it reveals about the inconclusive outcome of the dialogues. Ezra begins by recalling the exodus and the Sinai covenant, using the same sowing imagery in 9:31 to describe the giving of the law that he had

105 As Egon Brandenburger contends in Die Verborgenheit Gottes im Weltgeschehen: Das literarische und theologische Problem des 4. Esrabuches (ATANT 68; Zurich: Theologischer Verlag, 1981); see especially 46, 69–70, 157–60.

the dialogues of 4 ezra as a wisdom debate

155

used in 3:20 (and cf. 8:6). This opening sets up the expectation that Ezra has not been influenced at all by Uriel’s understanding of the Torah, but this time the conclusion he draws from the failure of the Torah to “produce fruit” in Israel is completely different. In 3:20–22 he had complained that the Torah was not powerful enough to overcome the “evil root” that God left in their hearts, implying that God was to blame for the people’s failure to keep the commandments. By contrast, the first part of 9:32, “But though our ancestors received the law, they did not keep it and did not observe the statutes,” echoes Uriel’s statement in 7:72 that “. . . though they received the commandments, they did not keep them, and though they obtained the law, they dealt unfaithfully with what they received” (cf. 7:21–24, 8:56). Ezra continues, “yet the law did not perish—for it could not, because it was yours. Yet those who received it perished, because they did not keep what had been sown in them” (9:32b–33). These words are clearly meant to recall Uriel’s exclamation in 7:20, “Let many perish who are now living rather than that the law of God which is set before them be disregarded!” The final statement of Ezra’s lament (9:36–37) appears to endorse the notion that the law “survives in its glory” only at the expense of many human lives. On the surface, then, it appears that Ezra has internalized Uriel’s attitude toward the Torah.106 The analogical argument Ezra introduces in 9:34–37 suggests that the author intended this speech to be ironic, however.107 While imitating the form of Uriel’s arguments from nature, it in fact demonstrates that what occurs in the case of the people who received the law is the reverse of what everyday experience would lead one to expect: Now this is the general rule that, when the ground has received seed, or the sea a ship, or any dish food or drink, and when it comes about that what was sown or what was launched or what was put in is destroyed, 35 they are destroyed, but the things which held them remain; yet with us it has not been so. 36For we who have received the law and sinned will perish, as well as our hearts that received it; 37the law, however, does not perish but survives in its glory. 34

This is the reading of Harnisch, Verhängnis und Verheißung der Geschichte, 170–74. As Brandenburger astutely observes (Verborgenheit Gottes, 63–7). The point is not that Ezra is being intentionally ironical, but that the analogy points to a different conclusion from the one Ezra draws. 106 107

156

chapter three

This parody of an angelic analogy draws attention once again to the problem with Uriel’s reliance on arguments from nature to explain eschatological matters, even as he insists that the world to come is nothing like this world. More importantly, Ezra’s absurd analogy, in which the examples tend in the opposite direction from the conclusion, shows that the dialogues, far from helping Ezra to understand “the way of the Most High,” have merely compounded his confusion. Brandenburger reads the entire passage as a reductio ad absurdum of Ezra’s skepticism, intended to show the failure of rational discourse to persuade Ezra to accept Uriel’s theology.108 I see it somewhat differently, as a demonstration of the incompatibility of Ezra’s and Uriel’s views of the Torah. While Ezra seems to have resigned himself to Uriel’s belief that the glory of God’s Torah takes precedence over the survival of God’s people, he has not given up two of the basic assumptions of his first lament. He explicitly limits the giving of the law (and hence the failure to keep it) to the nation of Israel (9:29–31), contrary to Uriel’s position that obedience to God is demanded of all human beings (and, consequently, that salvation is available in principle to Jews and Gentiles alike). Moreover, he persists in counting himself (and presumably all Israel, since he does not mention that there were any exceptions) among those who have sinned and will therefore perish (9:36), implying that he does not really believe that it is possible to save oneself by obedience to the Torah. If the Torah was given only to Israel and the members of Israel are all going to perish because they have sinned, in what meaningful sense can the Torah be said to “survive in its glory” (9:37)? Only in Uriel’s highly abstract mode of thinking can the Torah be imagined to exist apart from Israel. If Ezra’s worldview has collapsed as a result of his dialogues with Uriel, it is not because he originally lacked a theology, or held that life is meaningless (Brandenburger’s definition of skepticism).109 The intellectual bind in which Ezra finds himself at the beginning of the fourth episode is the result of his attempt to incorporate some of the teachings of Uriel’s eschatological wisdom into his own covenantal

108 Brandenburger, Verborgenheit Gottes, 63–67. He argues that Ezra’s subsequent discussion with a mourning woman, at the end of which she is transformed before his eyes into a vision of the New Jerusalem, succeeds where the dialogues failed in converting him to Uriel’s worldview, which Brandenburger believes is confirmed by the following visions and epilogue. 109 Brandenburger, Verborgenheit Gottes, 69.

the dialogues of 4 ezra as a wisdom debate

157

wisdom theology, which was admittedly rather shaky already because of his people’s crisis. While the dialogues expose the weak points of covenantal wisdom, they also show that eschatological wisdom does not offer satisfactory answers to Ezra’s questions or provide adequate comfort to someone who is mourning Israel’s recent losses. The fundamental differences between the two theologies emerge in the course of the dialogues, and Ezra’s final lament confirms that an intellectual compromise between the two schools of wisdom is impossible. The aporia to which Ezra is reduced by the dialogues can be overcome only by the powerful visionary experiences of the fourth, fifth and sixth episodes of the book. I will argue in the next chapter that it is not only the intense religious experiences depicted in those episodes that bring about Ezra’s consolation at the end of the book. Another reason the visions succeed in consoling Ezra where Uriel’s arguments failed is that they convey an apocalyptic theology which differs in content from eschatological wisdom and responds directly to Israel’s present crisis.

CHAPTER FOUR

THE APOCALYPTIC SOLUTION OF THE VISIONS 1. Introduction The wisdom debate between Ezra and Uriel comes to an end, though not a conclusion, with the end of the protracted third dialogue. The lament that introduces the fourth episode was discussed at the end of the previous chapter because it is more closely related to the dialogues than to the visions. At the conclusion of that lament, Ezra notices a mourning woman on his right, and engages her in dialogue. Unbeknownst to Ezra, this is no ordinary woman but a vision of the heavenly Zion, whose identity is revealed only at the end of their conversation, when she is suddenly transformed before his eyes into a splendid city. Uriel then interprets the symbolism of the vision, which includes the woman’s conversation with Ezra. Ezra’s dialogue with the mourning woman thus serves as a bridge between the dialogues with Uriel and the more typically apocalyptic symbolic dream-visions, in which Uriel takes on the role of angelus interpres.1

1 Frances Flannery-Dailey has argued that the first six episodes of 4 Ezra all contain dreams; only the epilogue is a fully “waking revelation.” The dreams in the dialogues are message-dreams, the fourth episode contains a message-dream that transforms into a symbolic dream, and the fifth and sixth episodes consist of symbolic dreams and their interpretations. See her Dreamers, Scribes and Priests: Jewish Dreams in the Hellenistic and Roman Eras ( JSJSup 90; Leiden: Brill, 2004), 212–20. While it is of course true that the first dialogue concludes with a notice that Ezra awoke (5:14), Flannery-Dailey assumes that the entire dialogue (including Ezra’s lament) was a dream, and then argues that the second and third dialogues are also dreams, based on structural similarities to the first dialogue and on the fact that Uriel commands Ezra to rise (which she equates with waking) once in the second dialogue (6:13) and once in the third (7:2). The command to rise occurs before the end of the second dialogue, however, and immediately after Ezra’s introductory lament in the third dialogue, before Uriel says anything else. Since Flannery-Dailey equates the command to stand with Ezra’s waking, the third “message dream” must then consist entirely of Ezra’s own words in his lament! She interprets the decreasing length of Ezra’s first three dreams as evidence of Ezra’s “progression” in the dialogues: “He has been transformed from active dream participant in the first dream, to a passive recipient of waking revelation in the second dream, to an active participant of waking revelation in the third dream” (ibid., 216, emphasis hers). She concludes that the author of 4 Ezra “appears to rank waking

160

chapter four

The two dream-visions that follow the pivotal fourth episode, the visions of the Eagle and the Man from the Sea, both draw extensively upon the book of Daniel, especially Daniel 7. In fact, the exegetical relationship of the Eagle vision to Daniel is made explicit at the beginning of its interpretation: “The eagle that you saw coming up from the sea is the fourth kingdom that appeared in a vision to your brother Daniel. But it was not explained to him as I now explain it to you” (12:11–12, Stone’s translation). Just as the author used allusions to Job to draw attention to the genre of the dialogues (see chapter III, sections 1 and 2, above), so he underscores the shift to the genre of interpreted symbolic visions by acknowledging his debt to Daniel. By reinterpreting Daniel 7 such that the “fourth kingdom” (Dan 7:23) is Rome, the author of 4 Ezra placed himself in the same relation to Daniel as the author of Daniel stood to Jeremiah when he interpreted the “seventy years” of the exile ( Jer 25:11–12) to mean “seventy weeks” of years (Dan 9:2, 24–27).2 The visions of the Eagle and the Man from the Sea portray, in two different scenarios, the triumph of Israel over its enemies through the agency of the Messiah. The vision of the Man from the Sea also describes the ingathering of the lost tribes to the land of Israel, while the vision of Mourning Woman develops the motif of the revelation of the heavenly Zion on earth in the messianic age. Thus the eschatology of the visions is primarily a national one, deriving ultimately from prophetic traditions, in contrast to Uriel’s focus on individual salvation in the dialogues, which derives from an eschatological wisdom background, as I argued in the previous chapter. The visions represent a typically apocalyptic theology, in that they emphasize that the Most High is in control of human history and will act soon to bring an end to the suffering of his chosen people in this world. The type of salvation they envision is corporate and entirely dependent on divine initiative, whereas the few who will be saved in the final judgment, according to Uriel, will have earned their reward by their own striving to live in accordance with the law.

revelation higher” than dream revelation, but does not explain why he then chose the form of symbolic dreams for the fourth, fifth and sixth episodes. 2 On the reinterpretation of Jer 25:11–2 in Daniel 9:24–27, see Michael Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation in Ancient Israel (Oxford: Clarendon, 1985), 482–95, 507–509; John J. Collins, Daniel: A Commentary on the Book of Daniel (Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Fortress, 1993), 353–59.

the apocalyptic solution of the visions

161

The present chapter makes the case that the three symbolic visions succeed in consoling Ezra where Uriel’s arguments failed partly because they address Ezra’s concerns about Israel’s fate that are left hanging in the dialogues. The elements of national restoration eschatology in the visions serve to balance Uriel’s insistence on God’s impartial justice in the dialogues. On the other hand, the effectiveness of the visions in consoling Ezra is due less to their theological content than to their symbolic form. They overpower Ezra’s mind with powerful religious images, rather than providing intellectual answers to his questions. Ezra’s transformation, which can be traced through the narrative surrounding the three visions, is thus comparable to a religious conversion.3 In the Greco-Roman world, the term for the type of profound spiritual and intellectual transformation that Ezra undergoes in the second half of the book was “consolation.” 4 It may be that Ezra’s transformation—whether one chooses to call it consolation, conversion, or intensification—is a reflection of the author’s own religious experience, as Stone maintains, but it also seems likely that the author had a purpose beyond portraying his own spiritual journey. He may have intended Ezra to serve as a model for others to overcome a crisis of faith by embracing an apocalyptic theology.

Michael E. Stone, Fourth Ezra: A Commentary on the Book of Fourth Ezra (Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Fortress, 1990), 32–33. He expresses reservations about the term “conversion” (ibid., 326–27), since “this is not adherence to a new deity or faith,” and suggests that a more accurate term might be “intensification,” meaning “a restructuring of the personality in the light of the beliefs that were previously assented to but that did not affect the believer’s perception of the world in the same way.” It is not clear, however, that Ezra “previously assented” to the beliefs conveyed by the visions. 4 For a recent discussion of the ancient understanding of consolation, see Paul A. Holloway, Consolation in Philippians: Philosophical Sources and Rhetorical Strategy (SNTSMS 112; Cambridge: Cambridge University, 2001), 55–83. The term “consolation” does not have the same meaning in modern English, however. Today, for example, Christians often call a shift from a weak identification with one denomination of the Church to a strong adherence to another (or even to the same denomination) a “conversion.” The modern psychological study of religious conversion was pioneered by William James in the Gifford Lectures of 1901–1902, published as The Varieties of Religious Experience: A Study in Human Nature (ed. with an introduction by Martin E. Marty; New York: Penguin Books, 1982). See especially lectures IX and X. I concur with Dereck M. Daschke that Ezra’s transformation conforms to James’s definition of a conversion. See his dissertation, “Loss, Fantasy and Recovery in Ancient Judaism: Ezekiel, 4 Ezra and the Baruch Apocalypses as Texts of Mourning” (University of Chicago, 2000), 172, note 65. 3

162

chapter four 2. Narrative Overview of Ezra’s Transformation

Virtually all interpreters of 4 Ezra agree on the pivotal nature of the fourth episode, but there is less agreement on the exact “turning point” of Ezra’s consolation or conversion. Breech, in his analysis of the “form and function” of 4 Ezra, identifies the change of scene from Ezra’s bedroom to the field called Ardat between the third and fourth episodes as the turning point of Ezra’s consolation.5 The conclusion of the previous chapter argued, however, that the lament which immediately follows this change of scene is more closely connected to the dialogues than to the visions that follow it, in that it demonstrates the depths of confusion and despair to which Ezra has been reduced by his discussion with Uriel. The first indication of a potential change in attitude is Ezra’s reaction when he notices the mourning woman: “Then I dismissed the thoughts with which I had been engaged, and turned to her . . .” (9:39). Stone reads this verse as the author’s attempt to account for the fact that the question about the law that Ezra raised in the foregoing lament is never addressed in the remainder of the book.6 The fourth lament does not introduce a new problem, however, so much as it recapitulates some points of disagreement in the dialogues. Therefore, by “dismiss[ing] the thoughts with which [he] had been engaged,” Ezra signals his willingness to move beyond the impasse of the dialogues. This proves to be easier said than done, however. After hearing the woman’s story of the loss of her only son on his wedding night, Ezra again reports, “Then I broke off the reflections with which I was still engaged, and answered her in anger and said, ‘You most foolish of women, do you not see our mourning, and what has happened to us?’ ” (10:5–6). Brandenburger argues that in his conversation with the mourning woman Ezra relinquishes his plaintive stance (in 9:39 and 10:5) in order to take on the role of comforter, which signals that he has already accepted his prophetic office, though this becomes

5 Earl Breech, “These Fragments Have I Shored Against my Ruins: The Form and Function of 4 Ezra,” JBL 92 (1973): 272. Longenecker concurs; he sees evidence of Ezra’s “conversion” in the opening speech of the fourth episode, although he maintains that Ezra remains “unconvinced” at the end of the dialogues. See Bruce W. Longenecker, 2 Esdras (Guides to Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1995), 57, 59–66. 6 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 311. It is possible, however, to read the epilogue, with its emphasis on restoring the Torah (there understood to include all of Scripture) to the people of Israel, as a response to the unanswered question of Ezra’s fourth lament.

the apocalyptic solution of the visions

163

clear only in the final episode.7 Thus he sees Ezra’s transformation as taking place in the course of the conversation itself, and as being complete by the time he witnesses the woman’s transformation into a city. He describes Ezra’s angry reaction to the woman’s story (10:5–6) as “prophetic wrath,”8 but does not explain why that should be an appropriate response to a woman who has just lost her only child. Stone offers a plausible psychological explanation of Ezra’s behavior: “Ezra’s anger is directed against himself, against his own resurgent grief—how transparent is ‘Do you not see our mourning?’!”9 An alternative explanation for Ezra’s harsh response to the woman is that his anger stems from “the reflections with which [he] was still engaged” (10:5). His frustrating dialogues with Uriel have only compounded his original anger against God. There is no evidence in Ezra’s conversation with the mourning woman that he has given up complaining about either of the injustices that he laments in the dialogues: that the majority of humankind is “destined for destruction” (10:10) and that Israel (or in this case, Zion) has been handed over to its enemies. While I consider Ezra’s conversion or consolation to be a gradual process that is complete only at the end of the sixth episode, I would locate its turning point later in the fourth episode, immediately after he witnesses the woman’s metamorphosis. 2.1

Prior to the Turning Point: “Consoling” the Mourning Woman

The main argument of Ezra’s first lengthy speech to the mourning woman (10:6–17) is in fact a continuation of his debate with Uriel concerning the destruction of the multitude of sinful humankind. It is true that the introduction to this argument—“Now ask the earth, and she will tell you that it is she who ought to mourn over so many who have 7 Egon Brandenburger, Die Verborgenheit Gottes im Weltgeschehen: Das literarische und theologische Problem des 4. Esrabuches (ATANT 68; Zurich: Theologischer Verlag, 1981), 77–84. On this point, Stone (Fourth Ezra, 318) agrees with him. 8 Brandenburger, Verborgenheit Gottes, 79. 9 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 320. On the next page he suggests that the woman “is in fact his own grief, both the pain and its cause.” Daschke elaborates in Freudian terms: “the mourning woman symbolizes the ‘return of the repressed’ for Ezra” (“Loss, Fantasy and Recovery,” 169). That is, he “confronts himself as he was previously” and cannot tolerate being reminded of his former self (ibid., 170). Daschke’s explanation assumes that Ezra has already undergone a cognitive conversion to Uriel’s worldview, while I argued at the end of the previous chapter that by the beginning of the fourth episode, Ezra has only partly accepted Uriel’s worldview without abandoning his own, and hence is in a state of aporia or cognitive dissonance.

164

chapter four

come into being upon her” (10:9)—echoes Uriel’s “rhetorical technique” (cf. especially 7:54).10 Nevertheless, the conclusion Ezra draws from the earth-mother analogy is quite contrary to Uriel’s conclusions from it in the dialogues (cf. 5:46–55). Ezra anticipates the woman’s potential objection that “my lamentation is not like the earth’s,” because “it is with the earth according to the way of the earth—the multitude that is now in it goes as it came” (10:12–13)—which recalls Uriel’s casual comparison of the creation of human beings to the sowing of seeds in the earth (8:41). Ezra counters: “Just as you brought forth in sorrow, so the earth also has from the beginning given her fruit, that is, humankind, to him who made her” (10:14). This response is reminiscent of his earlier personification of the earth as Adam’s mother, who might have “restrained him from sinning” (7:116), but it also contains a reminder that God is the creator of all, which is the basis on which he argues with Uriel for divine mercy (and on which he objects to Uriel’s seed analogy). Ezra has accepted the fact that the vast majority of humankind will “go to perdition” (10:10; cf. his last statement on the subject, 9:15–16), but in portraying the earth as their sorrowing mother who has given them to God (10:14), he subtly implies that God is to blame for this sorry situation. Thus there is considerable irony in Ezra’s urging the woman to “acknowledge the decree of God to be just” (10:16) in her own case.11 His promise that “you will receive your son back in due time” (10:16) sounds like an empty platitude, but is in fact a further instance of dramatic irony, in that it points to the reality of the eschatological Jerusalem which is to be revealed to him shortly. Ezra’s second speech to the woman (10:19–24) picks up the theme of Zion’s distress, mentioned at the beginning of the previous speech (10:7), but then dropped in favor of his argument about the sorrow of the earth. In fact, the argument about the earth is a digression from the main theme of the episode, apparently prompted by the phrase “the mother of us all,” applied to Zion in 10:7, but ordinarily associated with the earth in Ezra’s mind (cf. 5:50).12 Of course, for Ezra to Stone, Fourth Ezra, 319. Walter Harrelson, “Ezra among the Wicked in 2 Esdras 3–10,” in The Divine Helmsman: Lou H. Silberman Festschrift (ed. J. Crenshaw and S. Sandmel; New York: Ktav, 1980), 36. 12 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 321. The transition from the more particular referent of “our mother” (Zion) to the more universal one (the earth) is effected in 10:8 by Ezra’s statement that “we are all sorrowing; you are sorrowing for one son, but we, the whole world, for our mother.” Here again (as often in the third dialogue) Ezra speaks from the point of view of Israel, using universal language. The fact that the earth 10

11

the apocalyptic solution of the visions

165

be lecturing the woman who turns out to be Zion about the sorrows of Zion is the greatest irony in this, the most ironic episode of the book. Nevertheless, Ezra’s catalogue of Jerusalem’s losses (10:21–23) sounds more like a genuine lamentation than a rhetorical argument against grief over an individual death (as his previous speech was): For you see that our sanctuary has been laid waste, our altar thrown down, our temple destroyed; 22our harp has been laid low, our song has been silenced, and our rejoicing has been ended; the light of our lampstand has been put out, the ark of our covenant has been plundered, our holy things have been polluted, and the name by which we are called has been profaned; our free men have suffered abuse, our priests have been burned to death, our Levites have gone into captivity, our virgins have been defiled, and our wives have been ravished; our righteous men have been carried off, our little ones have been cast out, our young men have been enslaved and our strong men made powerless. 23And, what is more than all, the seal of Zion—for she has now lost the seal of her glory, and has been given over into the hands of those that hate us. 21

This passage is unique in its intensive focus on the destruction of the Temple, a theme that does not otherwise figure in Ezra’s laments.13 It was the “desolation of Zion,” and its contrast with the wealth of her oppressors, that prompted Ezra’s first lament (3:2, 27), but the author holds back the elaboration of this theme until the central episode, immediately before he begins to offer a solution to Ezra’s complaints. Although it is not clear to what “the seal of Zion” refers, the lament that it “has been deprived of its glory” is an ironic foreshadowing of the glorification of Zion that Ezra is about to witness.14

becomes the mourner rather than the one mourned in the following verses also helps to ease the sudden shift in the referent of “our mother.” Without mentioning that Ezra connects Zion with the earth through the epithet “our mother,” Harrelson (“Ezra among the Wicked,” 38) suggests that the glorified Zion might be “the earth itself, transformed under the sign of a city.” Since he regards the visions in chapters 11–13 as secondary, he tries to find a complete answer to Ezra’s laments in the vision of the Mourning Woman. He does so by reading into the vision both a Pauline eschatology (he says that the author’s answer to “the fate of the multitude of sinners” is “much akin to Paul’s answer in Romans [11:25–36]”) and a more developed image of the New Jerusalem, based on Revelation 21–22. 13 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 324. The translation is Stone’s (ibid., 316–17). Contrast the emphasis on the Temple and its vessels in 2 Bar. 5:1, 6:7–9 and 80:1–2. It is possible that the author has incorporated a genuine contemporary lament, but if so, the allusion to the ark of the covenant was probably added with the pseudepigraphical context in mind. 14 Stone (Fourth Ezra, 325) is probably correct that this is an oblique way of referring to the Temple, since that is where God’s “glory” was traditionally held to reside; cf. Ezek 9:3, 10:18–19.

166

chapter four

It is clear from his two speeches to the mourning woman prior to her metamorphosis that Ezra has no idea that his conversation with the mourning woman is taking place in a vision, or that her story is symbolic and the cause of her mourning is actually the same as his. While formally speeches of consolation, they in fact reveal that Ezra himself is still very far from being consoled. Not only have the dialogues with Uriel done nothing to assuage his grief over the destruction of Jerusalem, they have driven him nearly to despair by convincing him that the mass of humanity is doomed to perdition. As Edith McEwan Humphrey observes, Ezra carries on the dialogue with the “similitudo” of Zion (10:49) in the same sapiential mode in which he argued with Uriel; the visionary quality of this conversation is apparent only in retrospect.15 2.2

The Turning Point of Ezra’s Transformation

Watching the metamorphosis of the mourning woman into a city (10:25–27) is a qualitatively different kind of experience than Ezra has had up to this point. It is not clear that Ezra can see Uriel during the dialogues; at any rate, there is no description of the angel’s physical appearance.16 By contrast, Ezra’s initial reaction to witnessing the woman’s metamorphosis is fear that he has lost his mind as a result of his dialogues with Uriel: “Where is the angel Uriel, who came to me at first? For it was he who brought me into this overpowering bewilderment; my end has become corruption, and my prayer a reproach” (10:28).17 In fact, he describes his state when Uriel comes to him as “lying there like a corpse, deprived of my understanding” (10:30). Ezra’s readiness to give himself up for dead mirrors the woman’s determination to “mourn and fast continually until I die” (10:4; cf. 10:18). 15 Edith McEwan Humphrey, The Ladies and the Cities: Transformation and Apocalyptic Identity in Joseph and Aseneth, 4 Ezra, the Apocalypse and the Shepherd of Hermas ( JSPSup 17; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1995), 71. 16 In none of the dialogues is Uriel said to “appear” to Ezra; instead, immediately after each of Ezra’s laments, Uriel is “sent” and begins to speak to Ezra (4:1, 5:31, 7:1). The only clearly visual component of the revelation in the dialogues is nothing more than a demonstration using natural phenomena (4:48–49), which is part of one of Uriel’s arguments by analogy. 17 The fact that Ezra blames Uriel for his “overpowering bewilderment” supports my contention that the dialogues only exacerbated Ezra’s cognitive dissonance, which reaches its nadir in his fourth lament. Ezra’s acknowledgement of his profound confusion at this moment, coupled with the death imagery, points to this as the turning point of his transformation.

the apocalyptic solution of the visions

167

Since Ezra’s quasi-death coincides with the woman’s metamorphosis into the glorified Zion, it makes sense to view this as the turning point of Ezra’s transformation. When Uriel raises him to his feet from his corpse-like state and asks him “. . . why are your understanding and the thoughts of your mind troubled?” (10:31), Ezra seems to have forgotten his laments over the ruin of Zion and the perdition of the mass of humanity. His only complaint is that Uriel “abandoned” him and that he cannot explain what he has just seen and can still see (10:32).18 The parallel in 10:30 between failure of understanding and death is reinforced in 10:34–35, but in contrast the position he takes in the first dialogue, Ezra is not claiming that non-existence is preferable to not understanding (cf. 4:12). At this point he mistrusts his own mind and perceptions (10:36), and recognizes that he is utterly dependent on Uriel to restore him to understanding. Ezra’s resistance to Uriel’s revelations has finally been broken down, which is the first step in his gradual transformation. Uriel, too, exhibits a changed demeanor when he appears to Ezra following the woman’s metamorphosis. For the first time, he expresses concern about Ezra’s emotional state, asking him why he is so troubled (10:31). Although his command to “Stand up like a man” (10:33) still sounds a bit stern, his next attempt to get Ezra to calm down and pay attention is gentler: “Listen to me, and I will teach you, and tell you about the things that you fear; for the Most High has revealed many secrets to you” (10:38). The promise to “tell you about the things that you fear” contrasts with Uriel’s refusal in the first two dialogues to discuss those matters which are weighing most heavily on Ezra’s mind. This is the first indication that the visions will respond directly to Ezra’s concerns in the dialogues. For the first time, moreover, Uriel suggests that it is Ezra’s mourning over Zion and for his people, and not only his “righteous conduct,” that has moved the Most High to answer Ezra’s prayers for understanding with a vision (10:39; cf. 10:50). The statement that “the Most High has revealed many secrets to you” (10:38) points to Uriel’s reduced role in the remainder of the book. After 18 The fact that after Uriel stands him up, Ezra can still see the glorified Zion (and indeed, he is later instructed to enter and explore it, in 10:55) calls into question Flannery-Dailey’s characterization of the fourth episode as “a message dream that becomes a symbolic dream” (Dreamers, Scribes and Priests, 217). Just as this episode blurs the line between dialogue and vision in Ezra’s conversation with the mourning woman, it also blurs the line between vision and interpretation, since the city remains present even after the vision has been fully interpreted.

168

chapter four

the present interlude, Uriel is not named nor is his presence announced ever again in the book. Although he presumably continues to function as the angelus interpres in the next two episodes, he fades from view as an independent character, becoming merely a mouthpiece for the Most High.19 For example, after seeing the vision of the Eagle, Ezra prays to the Most High for strength and understanding of the vision, and the interpretation begins without identifying the speaker: “He said to me, ‘This is the interpretation . . .’ ” (12:10). The transition from prayer to interpretation is very similar in the next vision (13:20–21); if it were not for the third-person references to the Most High, there would be no reason to assume that Uriel is the interpreter.20 Moreover, in the interpretations of the visions Uriel generally does not presume to speak for the Most High in the first person, as he sometimes did in the dialogues (e.g. 5:48, 6:6, 9:18–22)—although he slips into that mode of speaking once more (13:54), in his final address to Ezra, but then quickly reverts to a third-person reference to the Most High (13:56). 2.3

After the Turning Point: The Completion of Ezra’s Transformation

That Ezra’s transformation is a gradual process, by no means complete at the end of the fourth episode, can be seen from a comparison of his reactions to his successive visions and their interpretations. His progress can already be seen in his behavior immediately after his first symbolic dream, the vision of the Eagle. He awakens “in great perplexity of mind (a multo excessu mentis) and great fear” (12:3)—which is comparable to his reaction to the woman’s metamorphosis (10:28–37), but less extreme, since he does not imagine that he is about to die (cf. 10:34). Significantly, he does not blame Uriel for his mental state (cf. 10:28), but instead rebukes his own “spirit”: “You have brought this upon me, because you search out the ways of the Most High” (12:4).21 Ezra recognizes that he is “still weary in mind and very weak in [his] 19 Brandenburger, Verborgenheit Gottes, 101–103. On the distinction between Uriel and the Most High in the dialogues, and Uriel’s tendency to speak for the Most High in the first person, see above, chapter III, section 2. 20 The only exception is a passing allusion to the dialogues: “. . . the day of judgment, of which I spoke to you at the beginning” (12:34). 21 Stone (Fourth Ezra, 122) points out that Uriel uses a similar phrase, “valde in excessu mentis” (5:33) to describe Ezra’s mental state in the second episode, and there too it is connected with Ezra’s “striv[ing] to understand the way of the Most High and the search out some part of his judgment” (5:34). The Latin phrase excessus mentis also occurs in 10:28 and 13:30.

the apocalyptic solution of the visions

169

spirit” (12:5), but he promptly decides to pray to the Most High to strengthen him (12:6), rather than continuing to dwell on his bewilderment, as in the previous episode (10:34–37). In the context of his prayer for strength (which is also a request for an interpretation of the vision) he finally acknowledges that he is an exceptional person (12:7), as Uriel has repeatedly told him (cf. 6:32, 7:76–77, 8:47–54, 10:57, and that God has therefore “judged [him] worthy to be shown the end of the times and the last events of the times” (12:9). Ezra’s worthiness “to learn this secret of the Most High” is affirmed at the end of the interpretation (12:36), when he is instructed to write down all he has seen and to hide the book (12:37). The motif of writing down revelations and hiding them is an apocalyptic commonplace, stemming from the convention of pseudepigraphy;22 less typical is the instruction that follows: “and you shall teach them to the wise among your people, whose hearts are able to comprehend and keep these secrets” (12:38). The latter instruction implies continuous oral transmission of the “secrets” within a select group of sages, from the time of Ezra to the present, in addition to their preservation in the form of a book.23 This is the first explicit acknowledgement that the intended audience of 4 Ezra calls itself “the wise” or “sages” (‫ ;)חכמים‬the worthiness of this group to receive secret revelations is emphasized repeatedly in the epilogue (14:13, 26, 45–47), which will be discussed in the next chapter. The progress of Ezra’s transformation is even more obvious in the narrative interlude that follows the interpretation of the vision of the Eagle. Ezra’s interaction with “all the people . . . from the least to

22 Stone (Fourth Ezra, 372, 374) cites numerous parallels: Dan 8:26, 12:4, 12:9; 1 En. 81:6, 82:1; 2 En. 35:2, 40:1–2; Rev 22:10; Jub. 1:5; Sib. Or. Prologue and 11:170–71; and T. Mos. 1:16–17. The prologue to the Sibylline Oracles is a dubious parallel, since its (7th century c.e.) author did in fact collect much older texts that had been preserved from antiquity, although obviously not from the hoary antiquity that the author of the prologue claims. 23 This is somewhat reminiscent of the first chapter of m. Avot, which traces the transmission of the Torah from Moses to the rabbis of the first century c.e.; the Torah of which it speaks clearly includes the Oral Torah, which is represented in the form of proverbial sayings. A closer parallel may be in 1 En. 82, where in addition to the above-cited instruction to Methuselah to transmit the books of Enoch (82:1), there is a discussion of passing on wisdom to his descendents which includes the sentence, “And those who understand it will not sleep, but will incline their ears that they may learn this wisdom, and it will be better for those who eat from it than good food” (82:3). The notion of an esoteric oral tradition is not as explicit there as in 4 Ezra 12:38, but it is implied.

170

chapter four

the greatest” (12:40–50) corresponds structurally to his exchange with Phaltiel, “a chief of the people,” after the first dialogue (5:16–19), but his demeanor is dramatically changed. There, in response to Phaltiel’s implication that he has forsaken the people who look to him as their shepherd (5:17–18), he can muster no words of reassurance, but simply replies, “Go away from me and do not come near me for seven days; then you may come to me” (5:19). Here, he offers the people words of comfort before sending them home with a promise to come to them (12:49), although he is vague about when he will come. The present interlude begins with an allusion to his response to Phaltiel: “When all the people heard that the seven days were past and I had not returned to the city, they all gathered . . . and came to me . . .” (12:40), which is noteworthy because it seems to conflict with the chronology of the frame narrative, according to which it has been twenty-two days since he spoke with Phaltiel, and nine days since he went out to the field called Ardat (9:26).24 In the present interlude, the people directly accuse Ezra of having forsaken them (12:41), going so far as to exclaim that if he has, “how much better it would have been for us if we also had been consumed in the burning of Zion” (12:44). Their despair is surely meant to recall Ezra’s earlier expressions preferring death to the human condition or to his present situation (e.g. 4:12, 5:35, 7:67), and perhaps also the determination of the mourning woman to “mourn and fast continually until I die” (10:4, cf. 10:18). Ezra’s command to the people, “go to your homes” (12:49), is ultimately the same as that to the mourning woman (10:17), but his words of comfort before sending them away address the people’s concerns better than his advice to the mourning woman.

24 Since Phaltiel came to Ezra “on the second night” (5:16) after the first vision, there were six days between his visit and the second vision, seven days between the second and third, seven between the third and fourth, and two between the fourth and fifth visions. Brandenburger (Verborgenheit Gottes, 112) regards this discrepancy as a mistake, in spite of his admiration for the careful construction of the frame narrative in general and the subtlety of the forty-day time frame prior to the dictation of the law in particular (ibid., 140). Stone, who also emphasizes the significance of the time intervals between the visions (Fourth Ezra, 373–74), says that the people come to him “at the end of his period of waiting” (ibid., 378), referring to the seven days mentioned in 12:39. But in fact the interlude takes place before the seven days of waiting for the next vision (12:51). Therefore “seven days” in 12:40 is likely an allusion to 5:19, meant to remind the reader that Ezra has been away from the people much longer than he predicted to Phaltiel. Hence the people’s fear of abandonment (12:41, 44) is justified.

the apocalyptic solution of the visions

171

The people, who consider Ezra a prophet,25 look to him as their last hope, “like a cluster of grapes from the vintage, and like a lamp in a dark place, and like a haven for a ship saved from a storm” (12:42).26 Ezra responds in poetic fashion befitting a prophet: “Take courage, O Israel, and do not be sorrowful, O house of Jacob; for the Most High has you in remembrance, and the Mighty One has not forgotten you forever” (12:46–47, Stone’s translation). That is, he first reminds them that he is not their only hope; afterward he refutes the accusation that he himself has forsaken them (12:48). He explains that he went out to the field “to pray on account of the desolation of Zion, and to seek mercy on account of the humiliation of our sanctuary” (12:48). On the one hand this somewhat misleading description of his activities in the field conforms to the command to reveal the secrets he has learned only to the wise (12:38).27 More importantly, though, Ezra is addressing the people’s preoccupation with “the disasters that have befallen us” (12:43). He is in effect reassuring them that he is fulfilling the prophetic role of intercessor for them.28 The people are apparently consoled by Ezra’s speech, because they go back into the city as directed (12:50). The interval between the vision of the Man from the Sea and its interpretation (13:13b–20) is in many ways parallel to that between the Eagle vision and its interpretation, but it reveals the further progress of Ezra’s transformation into a prophet and a leader of his people. The motif of his worthiness reoccurs, and this time Ezra asserts it with more confidence, as if he never doubted it: “From the beginning you have 25 As Stone (Fourth Ezra, 376) observes, this is the only place in the book where Ezra is explicitly called a prophet, although this role is emphasized in the epilogue, which contains several elements of a prophetic call narrative, including an explicit allusion to the call of Moses (14:1–7). 26 The three images suggest three distinct but related ideas: 1) that Ezra is the sole remnant of the prophets (see above, chapter III, section 3.5, notes 93 and 94, on the similar image for a remnant in 9:21–22); 2) that he is their leader or spiritual guide (cf. 2 Bar. 77:13–14; David is called “the lamp of Israel” in 2 Sam 21:17) and 3) that he is their only hope of rescue from their distress. The image of a lamp in darkness may foreshadow Ezra’s role in restoring the Law, since the Law is called a lamp in Ps 119:105 and Prov 6:23, and that image is picked up in 2 Bar. 59:2 and 77:16–17. The grape-cluster also functions as a symbol of a spiritual leader in rabbinic literature: see Gary G. Porton, “The Grape-Cluster in Jewish Literature and Art of Late Antiquity,” JJS 27 (1976):162–76. 27 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 377. 28 Brandenburger, Verborgenheit Gottes, 118–19. Cf. Ezra’s catalogue of intercessors in 7:106–111, which, however, includes many leaders who were not prophets. The author may have had in mind the biblical Ezra’s intercessory prayers in Ezra 9 and Nehemiah 9.

172

chapter four

shown your servant these wonders, and have deemed me worthy to have my prayer heard by you” (13:14; cf. 12:7–9). Although Ezra still awakes “in great terror” from this dream, nothing is said this time about perplexity of mind (cf. 12:3). His request for an interpretation does not have the urgency of his requests in the previous two interludes; in fact, he shows that he has already inferred the gist of the present dream on the basis of the previous one, when he exclaims, “But alas for those also who are left, and for that very reason! For they shall see great dangers and much distress, as these dreams show” (13:19).29 The rather pessimistic tone of Ezra’s own interpretation of the vision contrasts sharply with his mood at the end of the episode: “Then I got up and walked in the field, giving great glory and praise to the Most High for the wonders that he does from time to time, and because he governs the times and whatever things come to pass in their seasons” (13:57–58). This dramatic shift from resigned acceptance to praise marks the completion of Ezra’s conversion and his readiness to take on his new role as leader of the people and restorer of the Scriptures.30 Since the interpretation of the vision of the Man from the Sea mostly just confirms what Ezra has already been told about the messianic age (see below, 3.3), the final step of Ezra’s conversion is not simply a matter of the completion of his eschatological knowledge. It apparently has more to do with turning his mind at last from his former concerns (as he tried unsuccessfully to do in his dialogue with the mourning woman; cf. 9:39, 10:5) to the contemplation of the divine plan of salvation. Uriel explains to him at the end of the interpretation that “you alone have been enlightened about this, because you have forsaken your own ways [literally, “matters”] and have applied yourself to mine, and have searched out my law; for you have devoted your life to wisdom, and called understanding your mother” (13:53–55). At first glance, this praise of Ezra appears to support the thesis of Brandenburger and Harnisch, that Ezra has been converted to Uriel’s sapiential theology. It is important to bear in mind, however, that as angelus interpres of the visions, Uriel has ceased to play the part of a teacher of eschatological wisdom (or any kind of wisdom teacher, for that matter). He has become simply a mouthpiece for the Most High, as the mention of “my law”

29 Stone (Fourth Ezra, 389) surmises that Ezra’s independent interpretation of the dream (indicated also by the phrase “for as I consider it in my mind” in 13:16) is a measure of his confidence in his own worthiness. 30 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 408–9.

the apocalyptic solution of the visions

173

in this passage confirms. Moreover, Ezra is not being praised here for his recent “conversion,” but for having “devoted [his] life to wisdom.”31 In fact, the phrase “searched out my law” recalls Ezra’s own statement of his purpose in the second dialogue: “I strive to understand the way of the Most High and to search out some part of his judgment” (5:34). In the dialogues, Uriel declared these things beyond Ezra’s ken, but then began immediately to instruct him about God’s “judgment,” overturning all of Ezra’s traditional beliefs about God’s covenant with Israel and his mercy toward his creatures. Ezra was unable to accept Uriel’s instruction in the dialogues in part because he was still striving to understand “the way of the Most High” in terms of covenantal wisdom. Uriel’s praise of Ezra in 13:53–55 is a validation of Ezra’s desire to understand the divine plan of history. At the same time, coming as it does at the end of the visions and the completion of Ezra’s conversion, this statement implies that Ezra’s new understanding is possible only because he has “forsaken [his] own matters” and opened his mind to divine revelation. 3. The Content of the Visions While Ezra’s progressive transformation can be traced through the frame narrative, it is through the content of the visions themselves and their interpretations that the author offers his solution to the impasse of the dialogues. It is not a rational solution, in that the visions do not directly address the issues debated by Ezra and Uriel in the dialogues. Nevertheless, they do respond to Ezra’s underlying question throughout the dialogues, which Uriel consistently dodges: what does God plan to do about his covenant promises to Israel? The visions demonstrate to Ezra that these promises have not been forgotten—that the end of the age will bring vindication for Israel as well as universal judgment. The apocalyptic content of the visions shifts Ezra’s attention from the hopeless situation of sinful humanity to the certainty of divine intervention to right the wrongs of human history. 31 As Brandenburger himself recognizes; he treats this passage as the culmination of the theme of Ezra’s righteousness and worthiness to receive revelation that runs throughout the book (Verborgenheit Gottes, 121–24). This is the first and only time, however, that Uriel praises Ezra for his pursuit of understanding, of which he was critical or at least dismissive in the dialogues (e.g. 4:10–11, 5:34–40). Thus the present passage confirms a change in Uriel’s attitude toward Ezra, seen already in the first of the visions when he commended Ezra’s mourning over Zion (10:39).

174

chapter four 3.1

The Vision of the Mourning Woman Interpreted

The vision of the Mourning Woman differs from the following two visions in that it is not described as a dream; even the transformation of the woman into a city is presented as a real occurrence, since at the end of the episode Ezra is commanded to enter the city and look around.32 Nevertheless, Uriel offers an “interpretation” of the woman’s story, her conversation with Ezra and her transformation, just as if they were all parts of a continuous vision—and in a sense they are. The symbolic nature of the woman’s story becomes clear (to Ezra at least) only when Uriel interprets it. Whether the original audience would have immediately recognized her story as an allegory is uncertain. It has been suggested that the author incorporated an independent folktale and allegorized it,33 but as it stands, the story has no apparent point apart from the allegory.34 It is more likely, therefore, that the author composed the story for the occasion, drawing on traditional motifs such as the conception of a son after years of barrenness (e.g., 1 Samuel 1–2) and the death of a groom on his wedding night (Tobit 7–8). The details of the woman’s narrative that are left uninterpreted, such as the marriage feast and the consoling neighbors, may have been included in the story merely for the sake of verisimilitude.35 Nevertheless, the meaning of the woman’s narrative remains somewhat obscure, even after Uriel has interpreted it. If the woman is Zion (10:44), what does her son represent? The explanation of her thirty years of barrenness prior to the birth of her son as representing the “three thousand years in the world before any offering was offered in it” (10:45) raises the expectation that the son stands for the Temple. This turns out not to be the case; the son’s lifetime is equated with “the period of residence in Jerusalem” (10:47) and his death with “the destruction that befell Jerusalem” (10:48). To complicate matters, the son’s birth is said to have taken place when “Solomon built the city” (10:46)—whereas David is said to have built the city in 3:23–24.36 The Stone, Fourth Ezra, 334. See above, note 18. Hermann Gunkel, “Das vierte Buch Esra,” in APAT 2:344. 34 Stone (Fourth Ezra, 311) observes that if the author did use a traditional tale here, he transmitted it only partially, and subordinated its integrity to his purposes. 35 It is these uninterpreted details that led Gunkel to conjecture that the author had incorporated a pre-existent folktale. 36 Michael Knibb remarks, “Neither David nor Solomon actually built Jerusalem, but both made additions to it.” See his commentary on 2 Esdras in The First and Second Books of Esdras (commentary on 1 Esdras by R. J. Coggins; CBC; Cambridge: 32 33

the apocalyptic solution of the visions

175

solution preferred by a majority of commentators is that the son represents the earthly, perishable Jerusalem while the mother stands for the heavenly Jerusalem, the eternal “city of the Most High” (10:54).37 The interpretation of the story, then, simply establishes that the city that has been destroyed is not the “true” Zion, and that the heavenly Zion herself shares in Israel’s mourning over the loss of the earthly Jerusalem.38 The real “point” of the vision is not the woman’s story about her son, however, but her transformation: because of Ezra’s grief over Zion, he is shown “the brilliance of her glory, and the loveliness of her beauty” (10:50). In other words, he is shown the heavenly Jerusalem that will one day take the place of the Jerusalem that lies in ruins. This is no mere apparition; Uriel emphasizes the city’s reality by explaining that he told Ezra to go to an empty field “because no work of human construction could endure in a place where the city of the Most High was to be revealed” (10:54). Further, he instructs Ezra to “go in and see the splendor or the vastness of the building, as far as it is possible for your eyes to see it” (10:55). Although Uriel does not actually identify it as such, there can be no doubt that Ezra is granted a “preview” of the city that is to be revealed to the righteous in the last days (cf. 7:26, 8:52). Significantly, the reader is not told what Ezra sees inside the city.39 Cambridge University Press, 1979), 234. While this is true, it is more surprising to see the building of the city attributed to Solomon than to David. It may be true, as Knibb says, that the author mentions Solomon here because he is thinking primarily of the Temple—but on the other hand, he also mentioned the offering of oblations as the purpose of building the city in 3:24. Stone (Fourth Ezra, 337) comments that “a clear distinction was not always made between city and temple and consequently the indiscriminate confusion of the names of David and Solomon is not surprising.” 37 Stone (Fourth Ezra, 335) objects that there is no basis for this solution in the text. For all that the son is “merely a cardboard player” (Stone, ibid.), however, he clearly has an identity separate from that of his mother. The surviving mother can only be the heavenly Jerusalem (as Stone affirms, ibid.), while the parallel between the son’s death and the destruction of Jerusalem in 10:48 must mean that he represents the earthly city of the past. It is only with respect to the eschatological city that the identities of mother and son are merged (cf. Ezra’s promise in 10:16 that “you will receive your son back in due time”)—but that is because in the last days the heavenly Jerusalem will be revealed on earth (7:26, 13:36). 38 The former point is made more explicitly in 2 Baruch, when God says of the city that is about to be destroyed, “Do you think that this is the city of which I said: ‘On the palms of my hands I have carved you’? It is not this building that is in your midst now; it is that which will be revealed, with me, that was already prepared from the moment I decided to create Paradise” (4:2–3). Nothing more is said about the heavenly Zion in 2 Baruch, however, nor about an eschatological city. 39 Humphrey observes that the reader is “tantalized” by the command to Ezra to

176

chapter four

Given that the revelation of the glorified Zion is the turning point of Ezra’s conversion (as I argued above, section 2.2), it is remarkable how brief and vague the description of the city actually is, especially in contrast to the elaborate vision of the New Jerusalem in the last two chapters of the book of Revelation. The contrast is significant because there, as here, the seer is allowed a glimpse of the eschatological Jerusalem, which is in fact the heavenly Jerusalem come down to earth (cf. Rev 21:2). Moreover, the description of the city in Revelation draws heavily on Jewish traditions about the eschatological Jerusalem, many of which would surely have been familiar to our author. By the middle of the Second Temple period, the predictions of Ezekiel 40–48 and Deutero- and Trito-Isaiah for the post-exilic restoration of Jerusalem and the Temple were interpreted as referring to an eschatological Jerusalem, since the actual restoration of city and temple had fallen far short of the prophets’ expectations.40 Tobit 14:5–7 is an example of the eschatologizing of the prophetic theme of the restoration of Zion, listing the rebuilding of Jerusalem and the Temple among the events of the “times of fulfillment.”41 An example of a Jewish text

enter and explore the city, and is “induced by the text to ask, ‘But what did he see?’ ” (Ladies and the Cities, 72–73). Michael Stone has recently suggested that what Ezra saw in the city, which he understands to be “a metaphor for the celestial realm,” was a “revelation of the divinity.” See his article “The City in 4 Ezra,” JBL 126 (2007): 407. This is an intriguing explanation for the author’s silence about what Ezra saw in the city. Stone points out that the promise in 10:55–56 that Ezra will see “as far as it is possible for your eyes to see it” and afterward hear “as much as your ears can hear” is consistent with the agreement between Uriel and Ezra in 4:21 that human beings cannot comprehend “what is above the height of the heavens” (ibid., 406). 40 The plan for restoration in Ezekiel goes into much greater detail concerning the Temple than the city itself, while the reverse is true of the passages from Isaiah. The most important sources for the description of the New Jerusalem in Revelation are Isaiah 54 and 60–62. Although Revelation emphasizes that the New Jerusalem will not contain a temple (21:22), its vision of the heavenly city contains at least two allusions to Ezekiel’s vision of the New Temple: the seer is shown the city from “a very high mountain” (Rev 21:10; cf. Ezek 40:2) and sees the city being measured by an angel with a measuring rod (21:15–17; cf. the measuring of the Temple in Ezekiel 40–42). By refraining from a detailed description of the heavenly city, the author of 4 Ezra avoids the whole question of whether it contains a temple—which he probably considered pointless speculation (see below). 41 The previous chapter of Tobit contains a lengthy prayer for Jerusalem (13:9–17), which is heavily dependent on the prophecies in Isaiah concerning the restoration of Jerusalem. Clearly the author was expecting the eschatological fulfillment of these prophecies. Although some scholars have questioned whether these final two chapters were originally part of the book, the current consensus is in favor of the book’s integrity, according to Carey A. Moore, Tobit: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (AB 40A; New York: Doubleday, 1996), 21–22.

the apocalyptic solution of the visions

177

that, like Revelation 21–22, combines allusions to Ezekiel 40–48 and Deutero-Isaiah in its detailed depiction of the eschatological city is the Aramaic “New Jerusalem” text, found in multiple copies at Qumran (4Q554, 4Q555, 5Q15, and 11Q18).42 Nothing is said in that text, however, about a heavenly origin for the New Jerusalem, despite its grandiose dimensions and opulent building materials. The reticence of the author of 4 Ezra in describing the eschatological city is surely due to the fact that it is the heavenly “city of the Most High,” even though it is revealed to Ezra on earth. Hence it falls into the category of things that are beyond the scope of ordinary human knowledge, according to the agreement of Uriel and Ezra in the first dialogue. The theme of the limitation of human knowledge to “what is on the earth” (4:21) carries over to the visions (cf. 13:52). Stone relates the qualifying phrase concerning Ezra’s tour of the city, “as far as it is possible for your eyes to see it” (10:55), to this theme, but Ezra presumably gains a much more detailed knowledge of the city than is available to readers of 4 Ezra.43 The purpose of Ezra’s private tour of the city is to set him apart from the rest of “the wise,” who are privileged to have the written record of Ezra’s visions (12:37–38), but apparently not of this one.44 Ezra is allowed to see the inside of the city because he “ha[s] been called to be with the Most High as few have been” (10:57). This is probably an allusion to Ezra’s translation to heaven at the end of the book (in all the versions but the Latin, which continues with 6 Ezra), which means that he is to become one of “those who are with” the Messiah (14:9). Thus, not only is Ezra not subject to the limits of ordinary human knowledge, he is destined to become one of those whom “no one on earth can see” (13:52). 42 See Florentino García Martínez and Eibert J. C. Tighchelaar, The Dead Sea Scrolls Study Edition (2 vols.; Leiden: Brill; Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1997–1998), 2:1106–13, 1137–41, 1220–27. The style of the description mimics Ezekiel 40–48, and there are a number of references to the Temple. Most of the extant fragments describe the city itself, however, and in 4Q554, frag. 2, col. II, there is a description of a many-towered complex of buildings, made entirely of precious stones and gold, like the New Jerusalem in Isa 54:11–12. See Adela Yarbro Collins, “The Dream of a New Jerusalem at Qumran,” in The Bible and the Dead Sea Scrolls, Vol. 3: The Scrolls and Christian Origins (ed. J. H. Charlesworth; Second Princeton Symposium on Judaism and Christian Origins; Waco, Tex.: Baylor University, 2006), 231–54 (especially 246–48). 43 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 340. 44 Humphrey asks, “May it be presumed that ‘the wise’ will find ways and means to fill in the picture?” (Ladies and the Cities, 72) but does not say what those “ways and means” might be. Later she suggests that what Ezra sees when he enters “must not be humanly articulated” (ibid., 80).

178

chapter four

At the same time, the author may have eschewed a detailed description of the city revealed to Ezra because he wanted to emphasize a single point: Jerusalem would not be restored or rebuilt by human hands, but instead would be replaced in the last days by the heavenly Zion. Any description that alluded to prophetic texts that originally envisioned a rebuilding of Jerusalem by its inhabitants would only have obscured this point, and detracted from the mystery surrounding the heavenly Zion. The salient feature of the eschatological city is its heavenly origin: the author’s solution to the destruction of Jerusalem depends entirely on divine initiative. The vision of the Mourning Woman thus introduces a new theological perspective on the problems raised in the dialogues. In contrast to Uriel’s eschatological wisdom in the dialogues, which emphasized each individual’s responsibility for his or her ultimate fate, the visions focus on the eschatological fulfillment of God’s promises to Israel. The shift from a human to a divine perspective on historical events is accomplished very subtly, by means of dramatic irony, in the course of the fourth episode. Ezra hears the woman’s story as a single individual’s tale of woe, and urges her to put her grief in a larger perspective by contemplating the problems with which he has been preoccupied in the dialogues. When Uriel reveals the woman’s true identity, however, it is Ezra’s own perspective that is broadened. The true Zion, which existed for three thousand years before the earthly city of Jerusalem was built (10:45–46; i.e., since creation, presumably), is more splendid and vast than he is able to comprehend. The conclusion of the fourth episode connects Ezra’s exploration of the heavenly city with the dream-visions that follow and the things that “the Most High will do to those who inhabit the earth in the last days” (10:59). 3.2

The Vision of the Eagle and its Interpretation

In the fifth and sixth episodes there is none of the tension that exists in the fourth episode between the reality of Ezra’s experiences and their interpretation as a symbolic vision. Both the vision of the Eagle and that of the Man from the Sea are designated as dreams, which is the first hint that they are based on the seventh chapter of Daniel, the only one of Daniel’s visions that is called a dream. As mentioned above, the interpretation of the vision of the Eagle begins by spelling out its exegetical relationship to Daniel: “[t]he eagle that you saw coming up from the sea is the fourth kingdom that appeared in a vision

the apocalyptic solution of the visions

179

to your brother Daniel” (12:11). But Uriel goes on to say that “it was not explained to him as I now explain it to you” (12:12), which implies that the interpretation in Daniel does not have the same degree of authority as the vision itself. The basic structure of the vision of the Eagle parallels Dan 7:7–11, in that the eagle (the fourth beast) rises from the sea, holds sway, and then is judged and burned. The opening verses of the vision contain a number of allusions to the opening verses of Daniel 7, however. Ezra says in 11:1 that he saw an eagle, not something like an eagle, but its supernumerary heads and appendages make it as monstrous as the beasts in Dan 7:3–7. The eagle, of course, was an official symbol of the Roman Empire, appearing on its battle standards.45 The fact that the eagle rises from the sea is an allusion to Dan 7:3, but the sea apparently did not have the same mythic resonance for our author as for the author of Daniel 7. The “Man” also arises from the sea in the next vision (13:3), and there the sea is merely a symbol of the mystery surrounding this figure and his coming (13:52). Similarly, the author surrounds the eagle with “the winds of heaven” and clouds (11:2) as stock visionary motifs, apparently devoid of the mythical significance they retain in Daniel 7.46 Just as the fourth beast in Dan 7:7 has ten horns symbolizing ten successive Seleucids, so the eagle’s wings and heads stand for individual Roman rulers. While the synchronic image of ten horns is disrupted in Daniel by the appearance of another horn (7:8), the vision of the Eagle makes a smoother transition from synchronicity to diachronicity by having each of the preexistent wings “rise up” in turn to reign.47 Thus it retains a sense of the predetermination of history while giving a fuller picture of the historical process than Daniel 7. The succession is represented as peaceful until the awakening of the heads, which promptly turn and devour two of the wings (11:29–31). Later one of the two remaining heads devours the other (11:35). The image of devouring is probably taken from Dan 7:5–7, but it is even more horrifying to

Stone, Fourth Ezra, 348. In Daniel 7, these two motifs are quite separate: the “winds of heaven” stir the sea prior to the coming of the four beasts (7:2), while the clouds accompany the “one like a son of man” in 7:13. For the mythic background of Daniel 7, see Collins, Daniel, 280–94. 47 The Latin uses a variety of terms for “rise up” or “be raised,” but it is possible that the original used a single formula, like ‫ ועמד‬in Dan 11. 45

46

180

chapter four

imagine a beast devouring parts of itself than “much flesh” of others (Dan 7:5). Although the devouring is explained in the interpretation as representing internecine strife (12:27–28), it is an apt symbol for the (self-) destructive tendencies of the Roman Empire, from the author’s perspective.48 It is with the rise of the heads that we first hear that their reign oppressed the inhabitants of the earth (11:32), but in the judgment scene this charge is leveled against the eagle as a whole (11:42), and therefore against the Roman Empire itself. In the interpretation, the three heads are presented as the most extreme examples of the tendencies of the eagle: “Therefore they are called the “heads” (capita) of the eagle, because it is they who will sum up (recapitulabunt) his wickedness and perform his last actions” (12:24–25).49 The turning point of the vision is in 11:36–7, when a voice (the source of which is unspecified) directs Ezra’s attention to “what seemed to be a lion.” The lion, which speaks with a human voice (11:37), is not one of the beasts (i.e., a Gentile kingdom, as in Dan 7:4), but a spokesman for the Most High (11:38). The author makes it clear that he is following the four kingdoms schema of Daniel 7 when the lion addresses the eagle as the last of four beasts (11:39–40). In the interpretation the lion is identified as “the Messiah, whom the Most High has kept until the end of days, who will arise from the offspring of David . . .” (12:32). The lion is probably chosen as the symbol of the Messiah to suggest his Judahite descent, since Gen 49:9–10 was read at this time as referring to the Messiah (cf. Rev 5:5).50 The lion, in judging the eagle, takes over the role of the “Ancient of Days” in Dan 7:9–10, although he speaks not on his own authority but on behalf of the Most High (11:43–44).51

48 Stone (Fourth Ezra, 350) brings as a parallel the statement in 1QpHab 3:11 that the Kittim (= Romans) come “to devour all the peoples like an eagle which cannot be satisfied. . . .” 49 Wordplay such as this was a common feature of dream interpretation in the ancient world; see A. Leo Oppenheim, The Interpretation of Dreams in the Ancient Near East (Philadelphia: American Philosophical Society, 1956), 241, and for later examples, Patricia Cox Miller, Dreams in Late Antiquity: Studies in the Imagination of a Culture (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994), 87–89. Stone follows Violet’s suggestion that the original Hebrew wordplay involved ‫ ראשׁ‬and ‫ראשׁית‬, but a pun involving ‫ראשׁ‬ and ‫( רשׁע‬as in the Syriac version) also seems possible. 50 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 209. 51 Gregory K. Beale has argued that the lion’s judgment speech draws heavily on language from Daniel 8, especially Dan 8:23b–26. See The Use of Daniel in Jewish Apocalyptic Literature and the Revelation of St. John (Lanham, Md.: University Press of America, 1984), 116–17. To the extent that this is so, the accusations against the “king of bold countenance” (Dan 8:23, i.e., Antiochus IV Epiphanes) are extended to the Roman

the apocalyptic solution of the visions

181

As Uriel describes his role in the interpretation (12:32–33), however, he appears to judge on his own authority. Ezra’s dream ends abruptly with the destruction of the eagle (12:3), the agent of which is unspecified, as in Dan 7:11. The interpretation (12:32–33) suggests that this destruction is part of the judgment carried out by the Messiah. In a broad sense, then, the vision of the Eagle is a midrashic expansion and reinterpretation of the judgment of the fourth beast in Dan 7:7–11.52 The author of 4 Ezra is not concerned with interpreting every detail of those verses, however, but with conforming his own vision to the general outlines of that portion of Daniel’s dream. The leading point of the interpretation of the Eagle vision is that Daniel’s fourth beast is the Roman Empire (12:11). The fact that the author of 4 Ezra is at pains to establish this identification shows the high regard in which he held Daniel’s “prophecies” and in particular the vision of Daniel 7. This regard was shared by his fellow apocalyptists and other contemporaries, including even Josephus.53 In fact, the identification of Daniel’s fourth beast with the Roman Empire was probably not an original idea of the author of 4 Ezra, since it is reflected not only in 2 Baruch 36–40, but also in Rev 13:1–7, in several early rabbinic texts, and probably also in Josephus’s Ant. 10.276.54 The identification of the eagle with the fourth beast of Daniel 7 is most likely a strategy to establish the authority of the vision of the Eagle. André Lacocque argues that 4 Ezra’s rereading of Daniel 7 is cumulative rather than substitutive,55 but that is true only up to a point. While 4 Ezra 11–12 does maintain Daniel’s four kingdoms scheme and judgment scenario,

Empire as a whole. Some of the parallels Beale draws are fairly tenuous, however, and it is worth noting that Dan 8:23–26 is not a judgment speech, but simply the predictive conclusion of the interpretation of Daniel’s second vision (8:3–14). 52 This is essentially the conclusion of Beale (Use of Daniel, 127–29), although he emphasizes the extent to which material from other chapters of Daniel has been used to fill out the “framework” provided by Daniel 7. 53 On Josephus’ “Daniel segment” in Ant. 10.186–281, see Geza Vermès, “Josephus’ Treatment of the Book of Daniel,” JJS 42 (1991): 149–66; Christopher T. Begg, “Daniel and Josephus: Tracing Connections,” in The Book of Daniel in Light of New Findings (ed. A. S. van der Woude; Leuven: Leuven University, 1993), 539–45; and Anthony James Tomasino, “Daniel and the Revolutionaries: The Use of the Daniel Tradition by Jewish Resistance Movements of Late Second Temple Palestine” (Ph.D. diss., University of Chicago, 1995), 231–38. 54 Tomasino, “Daniel and the Revolutionaries,” 263–72. 55 André Lacocque, “The Vision of the Eagle in 4 Esdras, a Rereading of Daniel 7 in the First Century C.E.,” in SBL Seminar Papers, 1981 (SBLSP 20; Chico, CA: Scholars Press, 1981), 253.

182

chapter four

giving the role of judge and destroyer of the fourth kingdom to the Messiah instead of the “Ancient of Days” is clearly a substitution. The significance of this substitution for the author’s eschatology will be discussed below, in section 4. Excursus 1: The Details of the Vision of the Eagle and its Date While the general meaning of the Eagle vision and its dependence on Daniel 7 are fairly obvious, the details of the description of the eagle’s various parts remain obscure even after the interpretation. The dating of the vision depends primarily on the identification of the eagle’s three heads, but the twelve wings and eight opposing wings (also called pennacula and subalares, and hereafter referred to as “winglets”) that “rise up” prior to the heads also cry out for identification.56 Since most scholars now treat 4 Ezra as a unity and date it to around 100 c.e., there is widespread agreement that the three heads represent the Flavians: Vespasian (reigned 69–79 c.e.), Titus (79–81) and Domitian (81–96).57 The emphasis on the wickedness of the heads in the interpretation (12:22–28) is consistent with the responsibility of Vespasian and Titus for the destruction of Jerusalem. The problem with this identification of the heads is that there are far more wings and winglets than there were Roman emperors before the Flavians. Stone assumes that the text as it stands represents the original form of the vision, which was written late in the reign of Domitian, based on the appearance of the lion during the reign of the last head (11:36–7). Following Schürer, he identifies six of the twelve wings with the Roman rulers from Caesar to Nero, and the other six with the emperors (Galba, Otho and Vitellius) and usurpers (Vindex, Nymphidius and Piso) in the turbulent period from 68–69 c.e., while the winglets must be generals 56 For a survey of the identifications that have been suggested, see Jacob M. Myers, I and II Esdras (AB 42; Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1974), 299–302. 57 According to Stone (Fourth Ezra, 363–4), E. Schürer definitively settled the matter of the identification of the heads in the first edition of Geschichte des jüdischen Volkes im Zeitalter Jesu Christi (Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1900), 3:236–39. Nineteenth-century interpretations that identified the three heads as Pompey, Sulla and Caesar were rejected by Schürer on grounds internal to the vision, and if the book is considered the work of one author, such an identification is clearly impossible because the book as a whole presupposes the destruction of the Second Temple. The other possible identification of the heads, with the Severans (Septimius Severus and his two sons, Geta and Caracalla), yielding a date of 218 c.e. for the vision, was less definitively refuted by Schürer, and still had some supporters in the early twentieth century. See below on a recent attempt to revive the Severan identification in a modified form.

the apocalyptic solution of the visions

183

or minor officials who cannot be identified.58 This solution is open to question for several reasons. First, the vision explicitly says that “all the wings . . . wielded power one after the other” (11:19; cf. 12:14), but the attempts of Vindex, Nymphidius and Piso to seize power were foiled. Second, the eight winglets are described in the interpretation as “kings . . . whose times shall be short and their years swift” (12:20); four of the winglets are said to have “planned to set themselves up and hold the rule” (11:25) after the passing of the twelve wings and before the heads, and two of them apparently do rule briefly (11:26–27)—so the short-lived rulers and usurpers of 68–69 c.e. may be more plausibly identified with the first six winglets.59 Other scholars who maintain the Flavian identification of the heads acknowledge that the present form of the vision contains some later additions and corrections. The simplest such theory is that in the original vision and interpretation, each ruler was represented by a pair of wings, which were later separated to increase the number of rulers when the end of the empire failed to come as expected.60 The six pairs of wings would originally have stood for the six emperors from Caesar to Nero; the first six winglets, the rulers and pretenders of 68–69; and the last 58 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 365. He attributes to the author of the vision “a more detailed knowledge of the period than is available today.” Cf. Emil Schürer, The History of the Jewish People in the Age of Jesus Christ (175 B.C.–A.D. 135) (3 vols.; rev. and ed. G. Vermes, F. Millar and M. Goodman; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1986), 3/1:299–300. 59 Knibb, First and Second Esdras, 242. If this is correct, we have to assume that the author’s knowledge of Roman history was less detailed than our own, since there were three emperors and three pretenders during that period, not two and four. See Fritz M. Heichelheim, Cedric A. Yeo and Allen M. Ward, A History of the Roman People (2nd ed.; Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1984), 338–42. 60 Most recently, Lacocque has taken this approach in “The Vision of the Eagle,” 239, adapting a proposal first put forth by G. Volkmar in Das vierte Buch Esra (‘Esdra Propheta’), Handbuch der Einleitung in die Apokryphen, (2 vols.; Tübingen: Fues, 1863), 2:157–58, and adopted by Box (“IV Ezra,” in APOT, 2:612–13). Lacocque follows Box in applying the “pairs” theory only to the major wings, not the winglets. Box suggests that “the pairs served to emphasize the greater dignity and power of the real Emperors as contrasted with the ephemeral rulers symbolized by the little wings.” He does not propose a definite identification for the final two little wings, because he believes that the original vision was written late in Domitian’s reign (“or possibly in some part of Vespasian’s reign,” a dating that he appears to prefer on p. 609, but does not explain). Box dates the final redaction of 4 Ezra to ca. 120 c.e. (following Kabisch) and thus identifies the three heads (in the final form of the vision) with Trajan, Hadrian and Lusius Quietus, “a favourite of Trajan, of princely birth, who was generally expected to succeed to the Empire.” In fact, as Box admits, Quietus was assassinated by Hadrian soon after the latter’s accession. Except for the fact that Quietus is mentioned in rabbinic sources, Box’s identification of the heads and dating of the redaction seem entirely arbitrary.

184

chapter four

two winglets which survived the destruction of the heads, Nerva and Trajan. This theory assumes that the vision was written very early in Trajan’s reign (since Nerva ruled for only two years, and Trajan may have been expected to have a similar fate) and that the only change made to it later was to divide the pairs of wings so as to increase the number of emperors before the end. As an attempt to reconstruct the original vision, this theory fails to explain why the lion comes while the last head is still in power, before the rule of the last two winglets. Lorenzo Di Tommaso has attempted to explain the final form of the vision by reviving the old identification of the heads with the Severan emperors.61 He argues that while the vision was almost certainly written with the Flavians in mind, it underwent a significant reworking in 218 c.e., and that many of the details of the present form of the vision and interpretation are better explained as pointing to the Severans rather than the Flavians. His proposal is attractive in that the parallels between the Flavians and the Severans—both were a father and two sons, the first of which ruled for a short time and the second of which was assassinated—might naturally have led to an updating of the vision at that time.62 On the other hand, it fares no better than the Flavian theory at identifying all of the wings and winglets, since there are actually not quite enough of them to account for all of the rulers prior to Septimius Severus. Di Tommaso counters Stone’s rejection of the Severan theory on the grounds that Clement of Alexandria cites 4 Ezra in his Stromateis, written around 190 c.e., with the argument that Clement does not quote from the vision of the Eagle, and that in any case the unity of the book demands only that it originally contained some form of this vision, not necessarily the present form.63 This argument does not bear up under scrutiny, however; if the text of 4 Ezra had already been translated into Greek and disseminated as far as Alexandria by 190, how likely is it that the original form of the vision 61 Lorenzo Di Tommaso, “Dating the Eagle Vision of 4 Ezra: A New Look at an Old Theory,” JSP 20 (1999): 3–38. 62 Di Tommaso, “Dating the Eagle Vision,” 17. The statement of the interpretation concerning the death of the first brother, “For the sword of one shall devour him who was with him; but he also shall fall by the sword in the last days” (12:28), is problematic for the Flavian identification, since Titus died of a fever. It is generally explained as reflecting a rumor that Domitian killed his brother, on which see the references in Schürer, History of the Jewish People, 3/1:299. It is well known, however, that Caracalla had his brother Geta killed and then tried to rid the Empire of all references to his existence (Di Tommaso, “Dating the Eagle Vision,” 25). 63 Di Tommaso, “Dating the Eagle Vision,” 7.

the apocalyptic solution of the visions

185

of the Eagle should have left no trace in any of the extant versions? Di Tommaso’s theory requires all of the subsequent translations of 4 Ezra to derive from the single Greek manuscript of the redactor who updated the vision of the Eagle in 218, which seems highly unlikely, although admittedly not impossible. Apart from the Severans, there are no obvious candidates subsequent to the Flavians with which to identify the three heads. The attempt to read the present form of the vision entirely as an ex eventu prophecy may be misguided, however. Assuming Stone is correct that the vision was originally written in the reign of Domitian (which is likely, since the lion appears during the reign of the third head), the two winglets arising after the advent of the lion are most naturally explained as a later addition (perhaps even by the author) to extend the prophecy for a few years beyond the death of Domitian. Verse 11:11, “And I counted his opposing wings, and there were eight of them,” which appears out of place, looks suspiciously like an updating of the number of winglets (= “opposing wings” in Stone’s translation; cf. 11:3). If there were originally six winglets or opposing wings, representing the usurpers and short-lived emperors of 68–69, it is possible that there were also originally only six wings, representing the rulers from Caesar through Nero.64 When the first attempt to extend the vision by adding two winglets proved inadequate (probably several years into the reign of Trajan), someone may have attempted to extend the life of the vision far into the future by doubling the total number of wings that held sway before the winglets and the heads arose, in the process breaking the connection between the heads and the Flavians—but obviously without an alternative identification for them in mind. If this theory is correct, it implies that at least some of the obscurity of the present form of the vision and its interpretation stems from a deliberate effort by the author or a redactor to make it more difficult to invalidate. 3.3

The Vision of the Man from the Sea and its Interpretation

The vision of the Man from the Sea, while also designated a dream (13:1), is much less baroque in its imagery than the vision of the Eagle. 64 Knibb (First and Second Esdras, 240–44) presents the evidence supporting this view, although he never actually states it. It is possible to read 11:3 as suggesting that the number of winglets was equal to the number of wings: “And I looked, and out of his wings there grew opposing wings; and they became little, puny wings” (Stone’s translation).

186

chapter four

The vision itself (13:1–13) presents a smooth narrative that resembles a divine-warrior theophany; there are no obscure symbols that cry out for interpretation.65 The interpretation that follows, however, treats it as a symbolic dream in need of explanation. It suppresses the divine warrior imagery associated with the figure of the Man, either failing to mention it or radically reinterpreting it. Moreover, the interpretation departs from the order of the vision narrative and includes a good deal of eschatological prediction that is not connected with anything in the vision. Therefore, Stone has argued that the author of 4 Ezra incorporated an older vision that was itself a reinterpretation of Daniel 7, and gave it a new interpretation to bring it into line with his own view of the Messiah.66 The vision starts out as if it were going to be another reinterpretation of Daniel 7 from the beginning: the dream opens with a wind stirring the waters of the sea (13:2; cf. Dan 7:2). But instead of a beast, “something like the figure of a man” comes up out of the sea—which is puzzling, given the mythic associations of the sea with evil and chaos.67 Like the Danielic “one like a son of man,” this human-like figure flies “with the clouds of heaven” (13:3; cf. Dan 7:13).68 Having made an Stone, Fourth Ezra, 212. Stone, “The Concept of the Messiah in 4 Ezra,” in Religions in Antiquity: Essays in Memory of Erwin Ramsdell Goodenough (ed. J. Neusner; SHR 14; Leiden: Brill, 1968), 295–312; idem, “The Question of the Messiah in 4 Ezra,” in Judaisms and their Messiahs at the Turn of the Christian Era (ed. J. Neusner, W. S. Green and E. Frerichs; New York: Cambridge University Press, 1987), 209–24; idem, Fourth Ezra, 211–12, 396–400. Most scholars have accepted his arguments for the independent authorship of the vision; a dissenter is Maurice Casey, Son of Man: The Interpretation and Influence of Daniel 7 (London: SPCK, 1979), 126–29. Stone has forcefully refuted Casey’s objections in a lengthy footnote in Fourth Ezra, 395–96. 67 A. Peter Hayman has argued that in the original vision the man stood for YHWH and his rising from the sea symbolized his victory over the sea as a symbol of chaos (which is a motif borrowed from the Canaanite myth of Ba‘al’s defeat of Yam). See his article “The ‘Man from the Sea’ in 4 Ezra 13,” JJS 49 (1998): 1–16. He brings no parallel for “rising from the sea” as a way of signifying victory over the sea, attractive as that explanation may sound. Although the ultimate source of some of the imagery surrounding the “Man” in 4 Ezra 13:1–13 is undeniably the Ba‘al myth, it is almost certainly mediated through Daniel 7, where the “one like a son of man” corresponds to Ba‘al in the Canaanite myth. See Collins, Daniel, 290–91. It is highly unlikely that the author of 4 Ezra 13:1–13 identified the “one like a son of man” in Daniel 7 with YHWH, given the subordination of the “one like a son of man” to the “Ancient of Days” in that vision. 68 It has been suggested that since the vision alludes to Dan 7:13, the term used for “Man” in the vision itself was ‫בן אדם‬, while the author of 4 Ezra did not find this an acceptable designation for the Messiah, and therefore referred to him in the interpretation simply as ‫האישׁ‬, or more often, ‫עבדי‬, “my servant.” See Ulrich B. Müller, 65 66

the apocalyptic solution of the visions

187

obvious allusion to Dan 7:13, the author of the vision filled out the description of the Man with allusions to a variety of biblical texts. For example, “. . . an innumerable multitude of men were gathered together from the four winds of heaven to make war against the man who came up out of the sea,” (13:5) is a probable allusion to Ps 2:1–2.69 For this reason the vision of the Man from the Sea has been called, with some justification, a midrash on Daniel 7.70 Daniel 7 does not provide the narrative framework of the vision of the Man from the Sea (as it does for the vision of the Eagle), however, and there is no explicit acknowledgment of an exegetical relationship, as in the interpretation of the vision of the Eagle (12:11). On the other hand, the two dream visions reinterpret Daniel 7 along similar lines, by attributing the actions of the “Ancient of Days” to a human redeemer figure. The Man from the Sea destroys the hostile multitude with a “stream of fire” (13:10–11), which is most directly an allusion to the “stream of fire” that issues from the presence of the “Ancient of Days” in Dan 7:10.71 Messias und Menschensohn in jüdischen Apokalypsen und in der Offenbarung Johannes (SNT 6; Gütersloh: Mohn, 1972), 108, 120–21. Whether or not the term “son of man” appeared in the original text of the vision, the allusion to Dan 7:13 is clear from the fact that he “flew with the clouds of heaven.” Casey (Son of Man, 124–25) maintains that all of the textual evidence points to a Greek Vorlage of ἄνθρωπος in the vision and ἀνήρ in the interpretation, and therefore the original Hebrew probably referred to the Man simply as ‫ האדם‬in the vision (introducing him as ‫ כדמות אדם‬or ‫ כמראה אדם‬in 13:3) and ‫ האישׁ‬in the interpretation. While Casey is no doubt correct on this point, it does not strengthen his case that there was no “son of man concept” in Judaism, since the author of the vision did not even find it necessary to use the phrase “son of man” in order to evoke the figure in Dan 7:13–14. 69 Stone (Fourth Ezra, 385) mentions Ps 2:1–2 (along with Deut 28:49, Joel 2:1–2 and Zech 14:2) as one of the sources for the concept of an eschatological attack on Jerusalem by hostile nations, although he points to Ezekiel 38–39 as the primary source for this concept. Ps 2:1–2 actually provides the closest parallel for the attack described in 13:5 and 8, however, since the object of the attack is the man, not Jerusalem, and the enemy force is composed of many nations. 70 H. C. Kee, “ ‘The Man’ in Fourth Ezra: The Growth of a Tradition,” SBL Seminar Papers, 1981 (SBLSP 20; Chico, CA: Scholars, 1981), 203. Most scholars agree that 4 Ezra 13:2–13 is built around allusions to Daniel 7; a dissenting voice on this point is Helge S. Kvanvig, Roots of Apocalyptic: The Mesopotamian Background of the Enoch Figure and of the Son of Man (WUANT; Neukirchener-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1988), 522–23. Kvanvig claims that Daniel 7 and 4 Ezra 13 are independently based on the Akkadian Vision of the Underworld (see the lengthy argument, ibid., 444–535). His argument has been unconvincing to most scholars; see the criticisms by John J. Collins in Daniel, 82–83, 283–86, and Richard J. Clifford in “The Roots of Apocalypticism in Near Eastern Myth,” in The Origins of Apocalypticism in Judaism and Christianity (ed. John J. Collins; vol. 1 of The Encyclopedia of Apocalypticism; New York: Continuum, 1998), 14–15. 71 Stone (Fourth Ezra, 387) notes that “fire, of course, is God’s standard instrument of destruction,” but in none of the other examples he cites does the phrase “stream

188

chapter four

In his earliest treatment of the figure of the Messiah in 4 Ezra, Stone argues for different authorship of the vision of the Man from the Sea from its interpretation, but still refers to the figure in the vision as “Messianic.”72 In his commentary, however, he calls the Man of the vision a “divine warrior” and a “cosmic redeemer figure” (or simply “the Redeemer”), but not the Messiah. He implies that the identification of the Man in the vision with the Messiah was first made by the author of 4 Ezra in the interpretation, but he never denies outright that the figure in the vision is messianic.73 He emphasizes the parallels in the vision to divine-warrior theophanies such as Ps 18:9–10//2 Sam 22:9–10, Ps 97:3–5, Isa 66:15–16, Mic 1:3–4, etc., but he also points out allusions to Isa 11:4 and Ps 2:9, which are associated with the Davidic Messiah in Pss. Sol. 17:23–24.74 It seems likely, in light of the allusions and parallels to “messianic” texts in the vision, that the author of the vision did identify the “one like a son of man” in Dan 7:13–14 with the Messiah.75 At any rate, the author of 4 Ezra almost certainly makes that identification in the interpretation, when he calls the Man “my son” (or “my servant”—see below, Excursus 2) in 13:32, 37, and 52 (cf. 14:9), recalling the desig-

of fire” appear. He also observes that the present passage is unique in attributing destruction by fire to someone other than God. 72 Stone, “The Concept of the Messiah,” 310. 73 For example, he says, “The deep influence of Isa 11:4 on the description of the man’s activity in 13:10–11 suggests a confluence of properly “messianic” ideas with those of the cosmic redeemer here. . . . In the view of the author of 4 Ezra himself [i.e., in the interpretation], the identification seems complete” (Stone, Fourth Ezra, 212, note 36). 74 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 386–87. He points out other parallels between the vision of the Man and Pss. Sol. 17: the notion of an “effective voice” (13:4; cf. Pss. Sol. 17:35) and the redeemer figure’s lack of weapons (13:9; cf. Pss. Sol. 17:33–34). 75 By “messianic” texts, I mean biblical texts that were interpreted in post-biblical Jewish writings as referring to the Messiah, in the sense of an anointed agent of God who is expected to come in the end-time. On the need to define “Messiah” and “messianic” precisely, see Joseph A. Fitzmyer, The One Who is to Come (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2007), 1–7. Fitzmyer’s own definition of a messianic text is not always clear and consistent, however. In the context of an argument that 4QSon of God (4Q246) is not messianic, he claims that 4QFlor (4Q174) is “not yet ‘messianic,’ as used in Qumran literature,” even though it refers to “the scion of David who is to arise . . . in the last days” (ibid., 107). Yet at the end of his prior discussion of 4QFlor, he says that “The data of these texts [4QFlor and 4QpIsaa] referring to ‘the scion of David’ in the ‘last days’ support the text of . . . 4QpGena (4Q252) [which he identifies as clearly messianic], even if they no longer contain the word ‫( ”משׁיח‬ibid., 99). On the question of the messianic interpretation of 4Q246, see below, note 98.

the apocalyptic solution of the visions

189

nation “my son the Messiah” in 7:28–29.76 The same identification is found quite clearly in the Similitudes of Enoch (1 En. 48:10 and 52:4), where the same figure who elsewhere in the work is called “Son of Man” (and also “Righteous One” and “Chosen One”) is referred to as God’s Messiah.77 Since both 4 Ezra and the Similitudes of Enoch equate the Danielic “one like a son of man” with the Messiah and appear to be independent of one another, it is plausible that their “common assumption” about the identity of the figure in Dan 7:13–14 was shared by at least some other non-Christian Jews in the first century c.e.78 This “common assumption” does not amount to a unified “son of man concept” in early Judaism, however, since the specific traits of the messianic “son of man” figure differ considerably between the Similitudes of Enoch and 4 Ezra 13, and between the vision and interpretation in 4 Ezra 13.79 For the present discussion, the interpretation of the vision of the Man from the Sea is more relevant than the vision itself, because of what it reveals about the eschatology of the author of 4 Ezra. The interpretation begins with the identification of the Man as “he whom the Most High has been keeping for many ages” (13:26). This designation is most directly an allusion to 12:32 (“the Messiah whom the Most High has kept until the end of days”), although the Messiah’s pre-existence

76 Fitzmyer expresses some uncertainty about the messianic identity of the Man even in the interpretation, pointing out that he is nowhere in the sixth episode called Messiah or King (One Who is to Come, 121), but he acknowledges that the Messiah is “probably the one to whom ‘my Son’ in 13:32, 37 refers” (ibid., 120). 77 See James C. VanderKam, “Righteous One, Messiah, Chosen One and Son of Man in 1 Enoch 37–71,” in The Messiah: Developments in Earliest Judaism and Christianity (First Princeton Symposium on Judaism and Christian Origins; Minneapolis: Fortress, 1992), 169–91. Fitzmyer hears “an echo of Ps 2:2” in 1 En. 48:10: “they denied the Lord of Spirits and His Messiah” (The One Who is to Come, 85). While he considers this a “messianic interpretation” of Ps 2:2, he cautions, “yet even such an interpretation in one text does not mean that one can therefore extend it to all contemporary and later texts indiscriminately” (ibid., 107). 78 John J. Collins, “The Son of Man in First-Century Judaism,” NTS 38 (1992): 448–66; idem, The Scepter and the Star: The Messiahs of the Dead Sea Scrolls and Other Ancient Literature (ABRL; New York: Doubleday, 1995), 154–72. 79 Delbert Burkett, after reviewing the same evidence, concludes: “These distinctive uses of Daniel 7.13 make it difficult to infer that authors of the first century shared a unified interpretation of this passage, beyond identifying the one like a son of man as the Messiah” (The Son of Man Debate: A History and Evaluation [Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999], 114). The messianic interpretation of Dan 7:13 in 4 Ezra 13:1–13 is thus accepted even within the context of an argument against a unified “Son of Man concept” in apocalyptic Judaism (ibid., 97–120).

190

chapter four

is emphasized throughout the book.80 Nowhere in the interpretation is the designation “Messiah” used; this is perhaps another indication that the author of 4 Ezra took the messianic identity of the figure in the vision to be self-evident (in contrast to that of the lion in the previous vision; cf. 12:32). On the other hand, the author does not appear to have been enamored of the term “Messiah”—in fact it appears in only two places in 4 Ezra, in 7:28–29 and 12:32. The remaining two clauses of 13:26 provide further information about the Messiah’s role. The first, “through whom he will deliver his creation”81 is in some tension with Uriel’s statement in 6:6: “[before the creation of the world] I [i.e., the Most High] planned these things, and they were made through me alone and not through another; just as the end shall come through me alone and not through another.” Similarly, in 7:28–29, Uriel does not allow the Messiah any active role in the eschatological scenario; he is simply revealed, and then dies four hundred years later. The present description is consistent, on the other hand, with the primary function of the redeemer figure in both of the dream-visions: to free the earth from the violence of the evil kingdom (11:45–46) or of the rebellious nations (13:5, 11). The last phrase of 13:26, “he will direct those who are left,” points to the secondary role of the Messiah: to preside over the messianic era, which according to 7:28 is to last four hundred years. The present vision, which ends with the Messiah gathering a “multitude that was peaceable” to himself (13:12–13), provides slightly more warrant for this secondary role than the previous vision, which ends with the destruction of the eagle.82 Even though a good portion of the present interpretation relates to these last two verses of the vision, again very little is said about the actions of the Messiah after the destruction of the nations: “he will defend the people who remain, and then he will

Stone (“Concept of the Messiah,” 310) points out that this is the one feature of the Messiah that is alluded to in all of the passages relating to him. 81 Stone’s translation, following the sense of most of the versions; the NRSV, following the Latin, has “who will himself deliver his creation.” The Latin is ambiguous, but probably does not mean to attribute the creation to the Messiah; rather, it emphasizes the autonomy of the Messiah in delivering God’s creation. In light of 13:29, “The days are coming when the Most High will deliver those who are on the earth,” the reading of the other versions is almost certainly correct. 82 In the previous interpretation the author hints at an interval between the destruction of the evil kingdom and the final judgment (12:34), but does not elaborate on the notion of a messianic kingdom, other than by alluding to the Messiah’s Davidic ancestry (12:32). 80

the apocalyptic solution of the visions

191

show them very many wonders” (13:49–50). The absence of royal terminology in this description of the Messiah’s secondary function is striking, but consistent with 12:34. After the identification of the man from the sea, the author abandons any effort to adhere to the sequence of the vision. The next two verses (13:27–28) anticipate the interpretation of the imagery in 13:9–11, which does not occur until 13:37–38.83 In the intervening verses, the author first attempts to provide a temporal context for the coming of the Messiah by recalling the “signs” of the end that Uriel revealed in the dialogues (13:32; cf. 5:1–13, 6:18–28, 9:1–12). Unlike the first two sets of “signs” in the dialogues, there is no mention here of reversals of natural phenomena; Ezra is told to watch for “bewilderment of mind” and plans of war among the inhabitants of the earth (13:30–31; cf. 9:3). The mention of wars among the nations leads to a rather awkward segue back to the events of the vision: the voice of the Messiah (an allusion to 13:4) prompts the nations to stop fighting one another and gather to fight against him (13:33–34, picking up the allusion to Ps 2:1–2 in the vision, 13:5). The motif of the nations’ fear of him (13:8) is not mentioned in the interpretation, since it relates to the divine-warrior complex of allusions. Instead, the interpretation next turns to the mountain, which in the vision the Man “carved out for himself . . . and flew up on to it” (13:6). This feature of the vision is derived from Dan 2:34–35, in which a stone is “cut out, not by human hands” and then becomes a “great mountain.” Although the vision attributes the “carving out” to the Man, it also hints at the mountain’s extra-terrestrial origin (13:7). The interpretation adheres even more closely to Dan 2:34–35, by referring to it as “the mountain carved out without hands” (13:36). The previous verse identifies the mountain as Mount Zion (13:35), but the phrase “carved out without hands” connects the mountain with the eschatological city of Zion, which is earlier described as “prepared and built” and waiting to be “made manifest to all people” at the end of days (13:36; cf. 7:26, 10:44, 54)—again emphasizing that it is a product of divine, not human, initiative. The identification of the mountain as Zion in

83 Stone (Fourth Ezra, 401–2) points out that while the man’s lack of conventional weapons of war (13:9) is mentioned in 13:28, this feature of the vision receives no interpretation.

192

chapter four

the interpretation also constitutes another allusion to Psalm 2, since Ps 2:6 reads, “I have set my king on Zion, my holy hill.” As anticipated in 13:27–28, the divine warrior imagery of the vision is interpreted in 13:37–38 as symbolic of the Messiah’s judicial function. In fact, what is found in these verses is a description of the judgment of the nations which recalls the judgment scene in the previous vision (11:38–46; cf. 12:31–33) and is rather artificially connected to the imagery of the present vision: Then he, my Son, will reprove the assembled nations for their ungodliness (this was symbolized by the storm), 38and will reproach them to their face with their evil thoughts and the torments with which they are to be tortured (which were symbolized by the flames), and will destroy them without effort by means of the law (which was symbolized by the fire).

37

Since the “stream of fire and the flaming breath and the great storm” all issue from the Man’s mouth (13:11), there is some warrant for identifying them with the verbal functions of judgment.84 Nevertheless, the author’s attempt to reconcile the cosmic, militant figure of the present vision with the judicial role of the Messiah in the previous vision is somewhat forced. The identification of “the law” as the means by which the nations will be destroyed (which is clear only in the Syriac version) probably means that the Torah will be the standard against which all nations are judged, as in 7:37 (cf. 7:20–24).85 If the reading of the Syriac version reflects the original, it may represent an attempt by the author to bridge the gap between Uriel’s individualistic, universal view of the final judgment and the apparently national basis of the messianic judgment in the visions. The implication of destruction by means of the law is that the hostile nations are responsible for their own fate and that the Messiah is as unbiased in his judgment as Uriel claims that the Most High will be in the final judgment. The interpretation then turns to the peaceable multitude mentioned in 13:12–13, which in the vision was probably meant to represent the ingathering of the Jews of the Diaspora, a common theme of national

84 Stone (Fourth Ezra, 387) suggests that “the explanation in the interpretation that the fiery breath of the dream that destroys the wicked is a judicial word is not far-fetched. It is implicit in the traditions that the author had at hand . . . .” 85 Michel Desjardins, “Law in 2 Baruch and 4 Ezra,” SR 14 (1985): 35. Longenecker comments: “here one of the interests that characterizes the first three episodes has found its way into the author’s interpretation of the traditional vision” (Second Esdras, 79).

the apocalyptic solution of the visions

193

restoration eschatology since at least the time of the Babylonian Exile.86 The author of 4 Ezra apparently identified the peaceable multitude specifically with the nine and one half (or ten, or nine —the versions disagree on the number)87 lost tribes of Israel for the sake of including the tradition about them that follows in 13:41–47. Although there is no evidence in earlier Second Temple period texts of speculation about the activities of the northern tribes after their exile, sources contemporary with and later than 4 Ezra attest to a belief in their continued existence in a land beyond the Euphrates.88 The present account of their adventures conforms to the salvation-historical pattern of exodus (13:43–44), desert wanderings (13:45), and (re)entry into the promised land (13:46–47), with the Euphrates standing in for both the Red Sea and the Jordan River. It in no way corresponds to the description of the multitude in 13:13. The allusion to Isa 66:20 in that verse implies that the “peaceable multitude” in the vision includes some Gentiles,89 but the tradition about the lost tribes emphasizes their decision to separate themselves from “the multitude of the nations” and go to a deserted land in order to live in accordance with the law (13:41–42). The author is clear in the interpretation that the “multitude gathered together in peace” (13:47) is entirely composed of these isolated tribes.

86 This theme occurs most frequently in Deutero- and Trito-Isaiah; see for example Isa 43:5–7, 49:22, 51:11, 60:9, and especially 66:20, which according to Stone (Fourth Ezra, 387) is the primary background for 13:13. He also cites Isa 11:12 and Hos 11:10–11 as general parallels, and nearer parallels in Pss. Sol. 17:31 and 1 En. 57 and 90:33. 87 Stone (Fourth Ezra, 404) favors “nine and one half ” because it is the lectio difficilior and because this is the figure found in 2 Bar. 77:17, 19 and 78:1. He explains it as most likely referring to the fact that half of the tribe of Levi went into exile with the northern tribes and half remained in Judah. The northern tribes are reckoned as ten in most biblical and Second-Temple sources, and so the figure ten in most of the Latin manuscripts is likely a correction. Stone does not offer an explanation for the figure nine in Arabic2 and some of the Ethiopic and Latin manuscripts, but it is more plausibly a correction of “nine and one half ” than of ten. 88 Knibb (First and Second Esdras, 267–68) quotes Josephus (Ant. 11.133) as saying that “until now there have been ten tribes beyond the Euphrates—countless myriads whose numbers cannot be ascertained” and notes that m. Sanh. 10:3 records a debate between Rabbis Akiba and Eliezer about whether the ten tribes would return. Similarly, 2 Baruch concludes with a letter to “the nine and a half tribes which were across the river” (78:1; a fragmentary manuscript adds “Euphrates”). Stone (Fourth Ezra, 404) points out that 4 Ezra contains the earliest elaborated tradition about the “lost” tribes. 89 Box (“IV Ezra,” in APOT, 2:617) identifies as “heathen” both the “sorrowful” members of the multitude and those who were “bringing others as offerings,” by analogy with Isa 66:20 and Pss. Sol. 17:31 (17:34 according to the numbering in APOT, which he follows).

194

chapter four

In the following verse, however, the author adds that “those who are left of your people, who are found within my holy borders, shall be saved” (13:48). This is apparently another reference to the “survivors” of the messianic woes mentioned in 9:8 and 12:34. As in the interpretation of the vision of the Eagle (12:34), this group benefits from the Messiah’s victory over the hostile multitude; once again, he is not said to rule over them, but here simply to defend them and to “show them very many wonders” (13:49–50).90 The “peaceable multitude” is not explicitly included among those who will be “saved” (13:48), but the lengthy digression on the adventures of the nine and one half tribes would be pointless otherwise. If the author of 4 Ezra had wanted to emphasize that only a few (a remnant of the inhabitants of Judah) would survive to see the messianic age, he could have omitted or glossed over the last two verses of the vision, referring to the peaceable multitude. Instead he devotes nearly half of the interpretation to elaborating on those two verses. The implication is that “those who are left of your people” (13:48, cf. “the remnant of my people” in 12:34) will include representatives of all of the twelve tribes of Israel.91 At the end of the interpretation, Ezra asks the angel why he saw the man “coming up from the heart of the sea” (13:51). As Stone explains, the question “is not repetitive or out of order,” since Ezra is asking for clarification of a detail of the vision, the symbolism of the sea.92 The answer demythologizes the sea, just as the interpretation of the Man’s fiery breath demythologized his divine warrior attributes. The author probably has Ezra wait until the end of the interpretation to ask about this in order to emphasize the point that the messiah is pre-existent and hidden (cf. 13:26, 12:32). The form of Uriel’s answer recalls the theme of the limits of human knowledge in the dialogues: “Just as no one can explore or know what is in the depths of the sea, so no one on earth can see my Son or those who are with him, except in the 90 Stone (Fourth Ezra, 406) notes that the expression “show wonders” occurs frequently in 4 Ezra in the context of eschatological revelations, but only here is it one of the functions of the messiah. Possibly this function is parallel to one of the actions of the Son of Man in the Similitudes of Enoch, to “reveal all the treasures of that which is secret” (1 En. 46:3). 91 Knibb, First and Second Esdras, 269–70; Longenecker, Second Esdras, 81; contra Stone, Fourth Ezra, 405. The idea of the eschatological restoration of the twelve tribes is also found in Rev 21:12 and Matt 19:28/Luke 22:30, and derives ultimately from Ezekiel 47–48. 92 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 406. He cites numerous examples of similar questions by apocalyptic seers.

the apocalyptic solution of the visions

195

time of his day” (13:52; cf. especially 4:7). “Those who are with him” is another reference to the people who were translated to heaven (cf. 6:26, 7:28), such as Enoch, Elijah and also Ezra himself, according to 14:9. Thus this exchange between Ezra and Uriel at the end of the interpretation of the last vision brings together several recurring motifs of the book. Excursus 2: The Messiah: Son or Servant of the Most High? Before turning to a summary discussion of the vision of the Man from the Sea, it is necessary to address the problem of whether the author of 4 Ezra thought of the Messiah as the son or the servant of the Most High. Stone believes strongly that the original text designated him as “my servant,” but most translations (including the NRSV) opt for “my son.” The textual evidence, which Stone presents in full in his commentary, is ambiguous, but is consistent with the explanation that the Greek translation (from which all of the versions derive) used the word παῖς, which can mean servant (or slave) or child (boy or girl).93 Stone maintains that no Christian translator would have chosen the ambiguous term παῖς if the original term was ‫בן‬, so the original reading must have been ‫עבד‬. On the assumption that all translators of 4 Ezra were Christian, the textual evidence definitely favors “servant” as the original reading of the interpretation. On the other hand, Stone does not consider the possibility that the first translation from the Hebrew could have been made by a Hellenized Jew, who, if he was aware of Christian claims about Jesus, might have deliberately avoided the term ὑιὸς θεοῦ.94 The entry on παῖς θεοῦ in the TDNT points out that while in the Septuagint this term generally translates ‫עבד יהוה‬, in Hellenistic Jewish literature it sometimes had the meaning “child(ren) of God” (most often in the plural).95 It has this meaning in the singular in the second chapter of the Wisdom of Solomon. The enemies of the righteous man complain that he “calls 93 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 207–8. On the other hand, the Latin, Syriac and Arabic 1 versions, which derive from one of the two Greek archetypes, consistently use “my son” (or “my child” in the case of the Arabic), while the versions that use “my servant” all derive from the other Greek text. Stone does not mention the possibility that the two Greek archetypes differed on this point. 94 The fact that the Greek version of 4 Ezra was known to Clement of Alexandria means that it is quite possible that it had been translated by an Alexandrian Jew not long after it was written. 95 Joachim Jeremias and Walther Zimmerli, “παῖς θεοῦ,” in TDNT 5:673, 678.

196

chapter four

himself a παῖδα κυρίου” (2:13), but also that “he boasts that God is his father” (2:16); and then in 2:18 they say that if the righteous man is a υἱὸς θεοῦ, God will deliver him. If the terms παῖς κυρίου and υἱὸς θεου were interchangeable for the author of the Wisdom of Solomon, it is possible that the original text of 4 Ezra called the Messiah ‫בני‬, which a Hellenized Jewish translator rendered παῖς μου.96 This admittedly speculative argument would be pointless if it were not for the fact that the biblical allusions in the passage point to “my son” as the original reading. If the term used was “servant,” one might expect some allusion in the interpretation to the “servant” of DeuteroIsaiah, but Stone has not pointed out any.97 Instead, we have seen a number of indications that the author of 4 Ezra connected the imagery of the vision with Psalm 2, in which God says to “his anointed” (Ps 2:2), “You are my son” (Ps 2:7).98 A possible precedent for a Jewish messiah being called God’s son is 4Q246, the controversial “Son of God” text (4Q246, also called 4QAramaic Apocalypse and 4QapocrDan ar).99 96 Jeremias does not consider this possibility; he simply asserts (681) that the messiah is called “my servant” in 4 Ezra, without mentioning the textual problems. 97 By contrast, the Son of Man/Messiah in the Similitudes of Enoch is associated with the servant of Deutero-Isaiah through his other titles, “Chosen One,” and “Righteous One.” He is also called “the light of the nations” (48:4). An allusion to one of the servant passages in Deutero-Isaiah would not necessarily imply that the messiah was expected to suffer, since the so-called “servant songs” (Isa 42:1–4, 49:1–7, 50:4–9 and 52:13–53:12) were not viewed as a unit in antiquity. See John J. Collins, “Jesus and the Messiahs of Israel” in Geschichte—Tradition—Reflexion (ed. Hermann Lichtenberger; Tübingen: Mohr/Siebeck, 1996), 291. 98 It is on this basis that Knibb (First and Second Esdras, 169, 266) allows the possibility that “my son” was the original reading, though he seems to favor the view that this reading is due to “a deliberate Christian alteration to the text.” Box argues more strongly that the original reading in chapter 13 (which he considers a separate source) was “my son,” based on a messianic interpretation of Psalm 2. See his discussion in The Ezra-Apocalypse (London: Pitman, 1912), 282–86. Stone’s objection that there is no evidence until much later for a messianic interpretation of Ps 2:7 (Fourth Ezra, 208) does not take into account the evidence of 4QFlor (4Q174) (which, although it does not quote Ps 2:7, combines the idea of divine sonship from 2 Sam 7:14 with a quotation of Ps 2:2) or 4QSon of God (4Q246), although the messianic interpretation of the latter text is debated (see below). 99 On the interpretation of 4Q246 and the question of whether “son of God” was a messianic title in this period, see Collins, Scepter and the Star, 154–72. Cf. the article by E. Cook, “4Q246,” BBR 5 (1995): 43–66 and the reply by Collins, “The Background of the ‘Son of God’ Text,” BBR 7 (1997): 51–62. In identifying the “Son of God” figure in 4Q246 as messianic, Collins follows the reading of Joseph Fitzmyer (who, however, resists applying the term “messianic” to this text); see his article “4Q246: The ‘Son of God’ Document from Qumran,” Bib 74 (1993): 153–74; idem, “The Aramaic ‘Son of God’ Text from Qumran Cave 4 (4Q246),” in The Dead Sea Scrolls and Christian Origins (Studies in the Dead Sea Scrolls and Related Literature; Grand

the apocalyptic solution of the visions

197

It is noteworthy that the two main activities attributed to the “Son of God” (if he is the subject of 4Q246 2:5–9) are judging the earth with truth and bringing peace by vanquishing the nations, which are precisely the functions of the Messiah emphasized in 4 Ezra 13:37–39.100 The “Son of God” text may be an earlier example than 4 Ezra and the Similitudes of Enoch of a reinterpretation of the “one like a son of man” in Daniel 7, since there are clear allusions to Daniel in the verses following the introduction of the titles “Son of God” and “Son of the Most High.”101 The argument that the author of 4 Ezra may

Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2000), 41–61, and idem, The One who is to Come, 104–7. See also Seyoon Kim, The ‘Son of Man’ as the Son of God (WUNT 30; Tübingen: J.C.B. Mohr, 1983), 20–22. Florentino García Martínez identifies the eschatological figure as an angel, referred to in sectarian texts as Michael, Melchizedek or the Prince of Light. See “The Eschatological Figure of 4Q246,” in Qumran and Apocalyptic: Studies on the Aramaic Texts from Qumran (STDJ 9; Leiden: Brill, 1992), 162–79. Because of the fragmentary nature of the text, it is also possible to view the “Son of God” as a negative figure; either a human king (Milik connected the title “Son of God” with the Seleucid king Alexander Balas, according to Fitzmyer, The One who is to Come, 105) or a Jewish precursor to the Christian idea of the Antichrist (thus David Flusser, “The Hubris of the Antichrist in a Fragment from Qumran,” Immanuel 10 (1980): 31–37). Emile Puech, who adopted the messianic interpretation in the official publication of 4Q246 in DJD 22 (Qumran Cave 4.XVII: Parabiblical Texts, part 3, [ed. George Brooke et al.; Oxford: Clarendon, 1996], 181), later favored identifying the “Son of God” with a human king; specifically, Antiochus IV Epiphanes. See his article “Some Remarks on 4Q246 and 4Q521 and Qumran Messianism,” in The Provo International Conference on the Dead Sea Scrolls: Technological Innovations, New Texts and Reformulated Issues (STDJ 30; ed. Donald W. Parry and Eugene Ulrich; Leiden: Brill, 1999), 545–65. 100 The third person masculine singular suffixes in 4Q246 2:5–9 could refer either to the people of God or to the “Son of God,” but Collins (Scepter and the Star, 159) thinks the latter is the more likely subject of “he will judge the earth with truth” (2:5–6). Of course God is normally the judge of the earth in the Bible (cf. this passage with Dan 4:34), but judging is also a function of the future/eschatological king in Isa 11:4 (cf. 4QpIsaa col. 3, frag. 7:26) and Pss. Sol. 17:29, Collins argues, and nowhere is it the function of the people of God collectively. 101 Collins, Scepter and the Star, 159. The clearest allusions he points out are “His [or its] kingdom is an everlasting kingdom” in 2:5 (cf. Dan 3:33, 7:27) and “his [or its] sovereignty is everlasting sovereignty” in 2:9 (cf. Dan 4:31, 7:14). The verb ‫ ידשׁון‬in 2:3 may be intended to recall Dan 7:23, where the same verb is used of the fourth kingdom. Collins is clear that the “Son of God” text is “not simply an exposition of Daniel 7,” however, since it “is presented as an original revelation.” (So, for that matter, is 4 Ezra 13, but the exegetical relationship to Daniel 7 is more obvious there.) Johannes Zimmermann has argued forcefully that 4Q246 is a precursor to 4 Ezra 13 in identifying the Danielic “Son of Man” as the son of God; see his discussion in Messianische Texte aus Qumran: Königliche, priesterliche und prophetische Messias vorstellungen in den Schriftfunden von Qumran (WUNT II/104; Tübingen: Mohr/Siebeck, 1998), 128–69. For an English-language summary of his arguments, see his article “Observations on 4Q246—The ‘Son of God’,” in Qumran-Messianism: Studies on the Messianic Expectations

198

chapter four

have thought of the Messiah in those terms depends more on his use of Psalm 2 than of Daniel 7, however. While the textual evidence may favor “my servant” as the original reading, it is not conclusive (as Stone suggests), and the exegetical background strongly favors “my son.” 3.4

Conclusions on the Vision of the Man from the Sea

My reading of the sixth episode supports Stone’s original position that the author of 4 Ezra incorporated an existing vision of the Messiah and reinterpreted it to bring it into line with his own view of the Messiah as found in the vision of the Eagle and its interpretation (and, in general terms, in 7:28–29 and 14:9). Thus it was the author of the dream vision (13:2–13) who was responsible for identifying the Danielic “one like a son of man” with the Davidic messiah, although he was not necessarily the first to do so. The vision by itself is a midrashic tour-de-force, combining allusions to divine warrior theophanies, Psalm 2, Isaiah 11, Daniel 2 and Daniel 7, so that the “one like a son of man” becomes an eschatological warrior who defeats all the nations rather than the passive recipient of “everlasting dominion” that he is in Daniel 7:13–14. In this respect the existing vision was compatible with the author’s exegesis of Daniel 7 in the vision of the Eagle. The author of 4 Ezra accepted the vision’s identification of the Danielic “one like a son of man” with the Davidic Messiah. He also underscored the allusions to Psalm 2 in the vision by identifying the mountain upon which the Man stands as Zion (13:35; cf. Ps 2:6) and referring to the Man as “my son” (13:32, 37, 52; cf. Ps 2:7). He radically reinterpreted the divine warrior imagery of the vision, however, treating it as symbolic of the judicial function that the Messiah fulfills in the vision of the Eagle. Also similar to the interpretation of the previous vision is his avoidance of any reference to the royal attributes and functions one might expect to find in a Davidic Messiah. As elsewhere in the book, the Messiah has nothing to do with the restoration of Zion; it appears more or less simultaneously with him as a city “prepared and built” (13:36; cf. 7:26–28, 10:44, 54). The Messiah’s powers are limited

in the Dead Sea Scrolls (ed. J. H. Charlesworth, H. Lichtenberger and G. S. Oegema; Tübingen: Mohr/Siebeck, 1998), 175–90. Although he does not bring any new evidence to bear on the identification of the Son of God with the Danielic Son of Man, his analysis of the structure of column 2 of 4Q246 lends considerable support to the messianic interpretation of that text.

the apocalyptic solution of the visions

199

to judging and thereby destroying the hostile nations (13:37–38) and defending and revealing “wonders” to the survivors of the messianic woes (13:49–50). In spite of the Messiah’s being the primary focus of the present vision and its interpretation, the description of his activities does not go much beyond that in the interpretation of the previous vision. Significantly more is said, however, about the people who will enjoy the messianic era, and the adversaries of the Messiah are defined more broadly to include “all the nations” (13:33; i.e., the Gentiles), not just the Roman Empire. 4. The Eschatology of the Visions The triumph of “the one” (the Messiah, the redeemer of Israel) over “the many” (the hostile nations) in the vision of the Man from the Sea is just one example of the way the visions respond to Ezra’s laments in the dialogues over the fate of Israel and Zion (cf. 5:23–30). The judgment of the Eagle by the lion (11:39–46) can be read as a response to Ezra’s rhetorical question in his first lament, “Are the deeds of Babylon better than those of Zion?” (3:31). Not only are they judged to be much worse, but the dominion of “Babylon” over Zion is about to be reversed. The vision of the heavenly Zion, occupying the central position in the book, revives Ezra’s mourning over “the desolation of Zion” (3:2; cf. 12:48), only to overwhelm it with the sight of the true, glorified Zion of the last days. The three visions present three distinct but overlapping perspectives on the events of the messianic era, which Uriel touched on briefly in the dialogues (7:26–28). The eschatology of the visions does not actually contradict the eschatological scenario presented by Uriel in the dialogues (7:26–44), because the messianic era is affirmed to be temporary and thus subordinate to the final judgment (12:34). Nevertheless, the topics elaborated in the visions—the triumph of Israel over the nations, the rejoicing of the survivors of the messianic woes (or in the case of the final vision, a remnant of the original twelve tribes) in the land, and the revelation of the heavenly Zion on earth (10:44, 54; 13:35–36; cf. 7:26)—all add up to a much more nationalistic, this-worldly eschatology than that presented by Uriel in the dialogues. The visions also produce a much more positive, expectant mood about the end-time (in Ezra, and presumably in the intended audience) than do the dialogues. Assuming the identification of the eagle’s heads

200

chapter four

with the Flavians is correct with respect to the original form of the vision, the author of 4 Ezra evidently believed the end of the Roman Empire and the arrival of the Messiah to be imminent. Elsewhere in the book this is not obvious. In the dialogues, Uriel gives Ezra only vague answers about how much time is left before the end, a situation that Knibb interprets as reserve on the part of the author, who may have felt that “heightened expectations of the end were one of the factors which had contributed to the downfall of the Jewish community.”102 Since this reserve does not manifest itself in the vision of the Eagle, it seems more likely that Uriel’s vagueness about the timing of the end can be attributed to the author’s effort to maintain the pseudepigraphical fiction that the book was written during the Babylonian Exile. In the epilogue, there are three different reckonings that set the time of the end quite remote from Ezra’s lifetime, a sure sign that the author has the pseudepigraphical context in mind.103 The symbolic form of the vision of the Eagle, however, allows the author to allude to persons and events of his own times without involving the narrator in an anachronism. Thus, for the same reason that it provides the best evidence for the actual date of the writing of 4 Ezra, the vision of the Eagle offers the clearest indication of the author’s belief that the end is near. The end with which the Eagle vision is concerned, however, is the end of the Roman Empire, which coincides with the beginning of the messianic era—not the end of the present world, which is marked by the final judgment. The latter is the usual meaning of “the end” in the dialogues.104 Contrary to the assertions of Kabisch and the other source critics, however, it is not the case that the eschatology of the visions is

Knibb, First and Second Esdras, 129. First, Ezra is told that two and one-half parts out of twelve remain in the history of the world (14:11–12). The text of these verses is uncertain (see Stone, Fourth Ezra, 414 and 421), but the division of history into twelve periods in the Latin version seems most likely to be original, since it is paralleled in 2 Bar. 53 and Apoc. Ab. 29:2. Then at the very end (missing in the Latin), Ezra’s assumption into heaven is dated according to two different systems, “in the seventh year of the sixth week” and “five thousand years and three months and twenty-two days after creation” (14:49 in Stone’s translation). If Stone is right that all three of these systems assume that the end will come six millennia after creation (Fourth Ezra, 442), then in all of them Ezra is placed far from the end—although it is impossible to reconcile the three systems with one another, let alone with the actual amount of time between the fictive and actual dates of the book. See below, Chapter V, note 12 and section 1.4. 104 On the variable meaning of “the end,” see Stone, “Coherence and Inconsistency in the Apocalypses: The Case of ‘the End’ in 4 Ezra,” JBL 102 (1983): 229–43. 102 103

the apocalyptic solution of the visions

201

incompatible with that of the dialogues.105 It is simply a matter of different emphases. Uriel’s summary of the eschatological events covers the earthly reign of the Messiah (which is to last four hundred years, according to 7:28), including the appearance of “the city that now is not seen” and the reward of those who survive the “signs” of the end, in three verses (7:26–28), while he devotes sixteen verses to describing the end of the present world and the final judgment (7:29–44). The vision of the Mourning Woman and that of the Man from the Sea do not mention the final judgment at all, but the interpretation of the Eagle Vision alludes to the idea that the triumph of the Messiah is not “the end” in an absolute sense: “. . . he will set free the remnant of my people, those who have been saved throughout my borders, and he will make them joyful until the end comes, the day of judgment, of which I spoke to you at the beginning” (12:34).106 The three visions may be viewed as elaborations of three aspects of the messianic era that are touched upon in 7:26–28: the appearance of the heavenly city, the advent of the Messiah, and the reward of the survivors. The most serious objection to harmonizing the eschatology of the visions with Uriel’s summary in the dialogues is that the primary function of the Messiah, in both the vision of the Eagle and that of the Man from the Sea, is judging the nations, a role which is explicitly 105 Box summarizes the case for incompatible eschatologies rather rhetorically in his introduction to IV Ezra in APOT, 2:550: “The conviction that dominates the whole thought of S [the author of much of the dialogues] is that the evil which reigns in the present order is so deep-rooted that nothing less than the dissolution of the present world and the ushering in of the future and better world (or age) will suffice to eliminate the wrongs and unrighteousness that now exist. Is it conceivable that S can at the same time have held the view that the annihilation of the oppressive world-power by the Messiah will usher in a new age in the present world, which will bring felicity to those who live on into it, and justify the ways of God by making the divine rule a reality upon the earth? No. This older view was doubtless well known to S, and had failed to satisfy him. In his agonizing struggle for fresh light he implicitly repudiates the older eschatology, with its political hopes and somewhat materialistic aspirations, and takes refuge in a transcendental view.” Box’s position, followed to a large extent by W. O. E. Oesterley, II Esdras (The Ezra Apocalypse) (Westminster Commentaries; London: Methuen, 1933), is based on the arguments of Richard Kabisch, Das vierte Buch Esra auf seine Quellen untersucht (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck und Ruprecht, 1889). See especially Kabisch’s discussion of the Eagle Vision (ibid., 94–99). 106 The only parallel for the idea of a temporary messianic kingdom, ending with the destruction of the present world and followed by a general resurrection and the final judgment, is 2 Baruch 30, according to Stone, “The Question of the Messiah in 4 Ezra,” 210. The idea is alluded to once more in 2 Bar. 40:3–4: “And his dominion will last forever until the world of corruption has ended and until the times which have been mentioned before have been fulfilled.”

202

chapter four

attributed to the Most High in 7:37. I argued in the previous chapter, however, that in 7:37 Uriel refers to the universal judgment of all of the nations (including Israel) after the general resurrection mentioned in 7:32, and therefore he is not using “the nations” in its usual sense of “Gentiles.”107 The role of the Messiah in the two dream-visions, on the other hand, is specifically to judge the Gentile nation or nations that are oppressing Israel at the preordained time of his advent. In the vision of the Eagle, the messianic judgment is focused on the one evil empire that is Israel’s current nemesis—just as in Ezra’s first lament, his complaint centers on the success of “Babylon” at Israel’s expense. In the vision of the Man from the Sea, the object of the judgment is a combined host of hostile nations, recalling the contrast between Israel and the nations in Ezra’s second lament. It is true that Uriel’s eschatological summary does not mention a judging role for the Messiah (or indeed any active role in ushering in the 400-year messianic era), but after all, the messianic era is not the focus of that passage, nor of Uriel’s eschatology in the dialogues.108 In the Eagle Vision itself, judging the eagle is the lion’s sole function: there is no hint of a messianic age to follow the fall of Rome. Even in the interpretation, after the judgment of the wicked kingdom, the Messiah is not actually said to reign, which is rather surprising, given that he is said to “arise from the offspring of David” (12:32). The mention of making “the remnant of my people . . . joyful” in 12:34 recalls 7:28, where the rejoicing of the survivors is the only detail given about the 400-year messianic era.109 In the present instance, the limited action of the Messiah can be attributed to the fact that the vision’s purpose is to portray the downfall of the Roman Empire. The vision of the Eagle elaborates on the single event that is the turning point of the eschatology of the visions: the defeat of Israel’s current oppressor. It is thus a direct response to the question Ezra raises at the end of his first lament: no,

See above, chapter III, section 3.4. Stone (“Question of the Messiah,” 211) sees the passivity of the Messiah in 7:28–29 as a “major difference” from his role in chapters 11–13, which is undeniable. His additional point, that the Messiah appears “after the inception of the Messianic kingdom” in 7:28 is more debatable, since although the Messiah is mentioned after the city, the land and the survivors, the wording of 7:26–28 suggests simultaneous occurrences. 109 Since the author of 4 Ezra is careful to avoid assigning royal attributes to the Messiah, “messianic era” is a more appropriate term than “messianic kingdom” to refer to the interim period between the judgment of the nations and the final judgment. 107

108

the apocalyptic solution of the visions

203

the deeds of “Babylon” are not better than those of Zion, and at the appointed time they will be duly judged and punished. If the vision of the Eagle is understood as a response to Ezra’s first lament, the author’s choice to substitute the Messiah for the Ancient of Days in his reinterpretation of the judgment of the fourth beast in Daniel 7 makes perfect sense. How better to restore Ezra’s faith in divine justice than to have “Babylon” judged and destroyed by a representative of “Zion”? The symbolism of the lion identifies the Messiah particularly with Judah and Jerusalem, as does the mention of his Davidic ancestry in the interpretation. More fundamentally, the vision of the Eagle affirms the ultimate triumph of God’s chosen people over the rulers of the known world. By distinguishing the judgment of Israel’s current adversary by the Messiah from the judgment that will come at “the end” (12:34), the author affirms that Israel does indeed have a portion in this world, and not only in the world to come, contrary to Uriel’s implication in 7:10–14. Yet he stops short of designating the messianic era a “kingdom,” a significant omission, and one that calls into question the labeling of the eschatology of the Eagle Vision as “purely political.”110 In the vision of the Man from the Sea and its interpretation, which fill out the characterization of the Messiah, his Davidic background is only hinted at, through allusions to Psalm 2 and Isaiah 11. Much more prominent is his association with the “one like a son of man” in Daniel 7. Although the vision describes the Man with imagery drawn from divine warrior theophanies, while the interpretation assigns him a predominantly judicial role (as in the Eagle vision), both emphasize his transcendence. He is connected closely with the manifestation of the heavenly Zion (13:35–36), but he is not said to rule from there, only to “defend the people who remain” and “show them very many wonders” (13:49–50). In spite of the author’s reminder in 12:34 that the messianic era is not “the end”—that term he reserves here for the final judgment—the “decisive point” of the events narrated in the two dream-visions is clearly the judgment by the Messiah.111 While the author apparently intended the visions to complement or supplement the eschatological The wording is that of Oesterley (II Esdras, xxxvii) but the idea is present in all of the source critics’ descriptions of this vision. 111 Cf. Stone’s definition of “the end” as “the decisive point in the eschatological sequence,” in “Coherence and Inconsistency in the Apocalypses,” 239. 110

204

chapter four

revelations by Uriel in the dialogues, the messianic judgment in the visions appears to be a duplicate or substitute for the decisive point of Uriel’s eschatology, the final judgment. In the interpretation of the vision of the Man from the Sea, Uriel’s understanding of the Torah as the universal standard by which all nations will be judged is even extended by implication to the messianic judgment (13:38; cf. 7:20–24, 37). Since the final judgment will include all who ever lived (5:41–42), the messianic judgment might seem redundant. In fact it has quite a different purpose from the final judgment, which according to Uriel will be based entirely on individual merit or guilt. The judgment by the Messiah, by contrast, is a vindication of Israel’s belief in their covenant with God, since it punishes the nations that have oppressed Israel and makes possible the fulfillment of the prophetic promises of a restored and glorified Israel and Zion. It was Uriel’s lack of concern for the covenant that made his instructions in the dialogues so unsatisfying to Ezra. The focus in the two dream-visions on the messianic judgment is therefore necessary to bring about Ezra’s conversion to an apocalyptic worldview. The visions in episodes 4, 5 and 6 emphasize that the divine plan includes the establishment of the heavenly Zion on earth (10:44, 54; 13:36; cf. 7:26), the defeat of Israel’s enemies by the Messiah (12:31–33, 13:26, 37–38), and an earthly reward for a remnant of Israel (12:34; 13:46–50; cf. 7:27–28)—prior to the universal judgment emphasized so often by Uriel in the dialogues. By focusing his attention on the imminent reversal of the humiliating defeat of Israel and destruction of Zion, the visions give Ezra a new perspective on divine justice that enables him to come to terms with what he learned from Uriel in the dialogues. Without explicitly contradicting any of Uriel’s eschatological instructions, the visions communicate a more comprehensive apocalyptic theology that reaffirms Ezra’s faltering belief in God’s fidelity to his covenant with Israel.

CHAPTER FIVE

THE EPILOGUE AND THE CONTEXT AND PURPOSE OF 4 EZRA 1. The Epilogue The seventh episode of 4 Ezra differs in so many respects from both the dialogues and the apocalyptic visions that it is generally referred to as the epilogue. This term can connote secondary importance, and indeed many scholars have tended to treat it as an afterthought to the main message of the book.1 To the extent that “the thread that holds the book together is the Odyssey of Ezra’s soul,”2 the epilogue does seem superfluous, since Ezra’s conversion is complete by the end of the previous episode. Yet Stone himself recognizes that from another point of view, the climax of the book comes in the epilogue.3 Both the dialogues and the visions can be viewed as preparation for the most important revelation that Ezra receives: the twenty-four books of the Hebrew Scriptures (which need to be restored because they were burned in the destruction of Jerusalem by the Babylonians, according to 14:21–22; cf. 4:23) and seventy additional books that contain “the spring of understanding, the fountain of wisdom and the river of knowledge” (14:47). The significance of the twenty-four and seventy books will be discussed below; the noteworthy point here is the break in the chain of scribal transmission of Scripture occasioned by the Babylonian destruction of Jerusalem. From this author’s perspective, the textual tradition of written revelation goes back only to the time of the Babylonian Exile,

1 For example, Hermann Gunkel viewed the epilogue as an originally independent “legend of Ezra” which the author added to his book to give it “an aesthetically pleasing conclusion” (“Das vierte Buch Esra,”in APAT 2:348). Earl Breech concurs, adding that it “cannot be drawn into the pattern of the prophet’s consolation,” since his consolation “. . . was achieved after the climactic dream visions” (“These Fragments Have I Shored Against my Ruins: The Form and Function of 4 Ezra,” JBL 92 [1973]: 274). 2 Michael E. Stone, Fourth Ezra: A Commentary on the Book of Fourth Ezra (Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1990), 32. 3 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 416, 428.

206

chapter five

to Ezra and his five scribes.4 Hence Ezra is depicted as a second Moses in the epilogue. The total of forty days of fasting in the previous six episodes is balanced by Ezra’s forty-day fast in the epilogue, during the writing of the ninety-four books (14:42–44), recalling Moses’ fortyday fast during the rewriting of the tablets of the law (Exod 34:28).5 The forty-day fast in the epilogue may be meant to draw an analogy between the re-inscription of the commandments on the second set of stone tablets after Moses destroyed the first set (Exod 32:19; Deut 9:17) and Ezra’s inspired dictation of the ninety-four books, after the Babylonians burned the “law” (4 Ezra 14:21–22). The most obvious factor setting the epilogue apart from the rest of the book is the absence of Uriel: the voice that addresses Ezra at the beginning of the episode is clearly that of the Most High (14:3). Another significant change is that in the epilogue, Ezra emerges from isolation and assumes leadership over the people as a whole and over the five scribes. This is in contrast even to the interlude after the fifth episode, when he speaks prophetic words of consolation to the people but then withdraws from them again (12:46–49). As the conclusion of the previous

4 While the placement of Ezra during the Babylonian exile is of course anachronistic, there may be a grain of historical truth in this legend. David Carr suggests that the scrolls containing whatever Israelite literature existed before the Exile probably were destroyed, by and large, when Jerusalem fell. He envisions the scribes of the exile working mainly from “memorized building blocks” of the old tradition, recasting the sacred literature to address the needs of the exilic community. “Overall, it appears that the exile was a time of renewed focus on Israel’s pre-land traditions, the Mosaic Torah, with radical reformulations of those pre-land traditions being done in the oral-written matrices of both royal, nonpriestly scribal circles and priestly groups.” See David M. Carr, Writing on the Tablet of the Heart: Origins of Scripture and Literature (New York: Oxford University Press, 2005), 167–68. 5 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 374, 431. For a more detailed treatment of the forty-day time frame of the first six episodes, see Michael P. Knowles, “Moses, the Law and the Unity of 4 Ezra,” NovT 31 (1989): 261–65. Knowles associates Ezra’s first forty-day fast (during the first six episodes) not with the period of Moses’ reception of the law, but rather with the period of Moses’ intercession for the people after the golden calf incident (Deut 9:18, 25–29); the forty days of fasting in the epilogue then corresponds to the period of Moses’ second sojourn on the mountain, during which he received the ten commandments for the second time (Deut 10:1–5, 10). Although the need for the restoration of the law is ultimately due to the sins of the people, according to Ezra’s speech to the people (14:30–33), Ezra’s laments are not really over the sins of his people, as Moses’ were. Moreover, despite what he tells the people in 12:48, Ezra’s primary activity over the first forty days is not intercession for his people, but the reception of esoteric revelation. Therefore the two forty-day periods in 4 Ezra probably correspond to the two forty-day periods when Moses was on the mountain with God, according to Deuteronomy 9–10 (cf. Exod 24:18 and 34:28), to which the author vaguely alludes in 4 Ezra 14:4.

the epilogue and the context and purpose of 4 ezra

207

episode leads the reader to expect, Ezra’s demeanor is entirely different in this episode; not a word of lament or protest is heard from him. Stone points out that this change in Ezra’s emotional state is reflected also by a change in his posture: whereas in all the previous episodes he was lying prostrate unless Uriel told him to stand (cf. 6:13–17, 10:33), here he is sitting up initially (14:1) and then he rises to his feet when he hears the voice of the Most High (14:2).6 1.1

New Moses and Renewed Torah

Indeed, nothing in the previous six episodes (apart from their forty-day time frame, which is subtle, to say the least) prepares the reader for the portrayal of Ezra as a second Moses. Although the twofold call “Ezra, Ezra” and the response “Here I am” (14:1–2) have multiple resonances,7 there can be no doubt that the opening of the epilogue is intended to establish a parallel between Ezra and Moses. Not only does the divine voice come out of a bush (14:1), the first thing it says is “I revealed myself in a bush and spoke to Moses when my people were in bondage in Egypt” (14:3). The mention of Moses’ role in the exodus (14:4) may be meant to foreshadow Ezra’s assumption of leadership over his exiled people (14:13, 23, 27–36),8 but the more significant parallel is “. . . I kept [Moses] with me many days. I told him many wondrous things, and showed him the secrets of the times and declared to him the end of the times” (14:4–5), which recalls the revelations to Ezra in the rest of the book.

Stone, Fourth Ezra, 411–12. In addition to the call of Moses (Exod 3:4), Stone (Fourth Ezra, 410) mentions the call to Abraham when he is on the point of sacrificing Isaac (Gen 22:11) and the call of Samuel (1 Sam 3:4, 10). To these may be added the call of Jacob on the way down to Egypt (Gen 46:2) and perhaps also the call of Isaiah (Isa 6:8), although there, of course, the name is lacking. Stone is probably right that the detail of Ezra sitting under an oak tree (14:1) is intended to recall the epiphany to Abraham at the oaks of Mamre (Gen 18:1), especially in light of the tradition of the revelation of the secrets of the end to Abraham (3:14). The other parallel he suggests, to Deborah sitting under her palm tree ( Judg 4:5), is very tenuous since that passage involves neither an oak nor a call nor an epiphany. The command to drink a fiery liquid later in the epilogue (14:38–39; see below) evokes the call of Ezekiel, who is asked to consume a scroll (Ezek 2:9–3:3). 8 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 418. Probably not too much should be made of Ezra’s leadership of the people, however, since Ezra’s translation to heaven appears to follow immediately upon the completion of the ninety-four books (14:50). The Most High, in his instructions to Ezra in 14:7–18, appears more concerned with Ezra’s preparation for his translation to heaven than with his leadership of the people. 6 7

208

chapter five

Fourth Ezra is by no means alone in maintaining that, while on Mt. Sinai, Moses received secret revelations in addition to the Torah, so this sentence may be considered an allusion to a well-known tradition, though it is not found in the canonical Scriptures.9 The “quotation” that follows, however, is probably an invention of the author, since it so closely parallels the activities of Ezra in the epilogue: “Then I commanded him, saying, ‘These words you shall publish openly, and these you shall keep secret’” (14:5–6; cf. 14:45–46). Thus, the main purpose of the allusions to Moses at the beginning of the epilogue appears to be to establish a precedent for Ezra’s dictation of two sets of books, one public and the other esoteric. Since Ezra’s reputation as a scribe of the Torah was well established (cf. Ezra 7:6, 11, 12, 21; Neh 8:1, 4, 9, 13), it may be that what is being asserted here is that Ezra was also a scribe of apocalyptic works (in addition to being an apocalyptic seer himself ).10 Much more than in the rest of the book, in the epilogue the author makes a point of distancing Ezra from the events of the end and from the author’s own times. For the first time Ezra is told that he will be taken up to heaven, “to live with my Son and with those who are like you, until the times are ended” (14:9).11 Then, in 14:11–12, he is given

9 For example, Jubilees claims to contain additional revelations to Moses on Sinai, and the Greek Life of Adam and Eve was formerly known as the Apocalypse of Moses because its superscription claims that its contents were revealed to Moses at the time of the giving of the law. An allusion to the revelation of eschatological secrets to Moses is found in 2 Bar. 59:3–4, and Stone (Fourth Ezra, 419) cites rabbinic parallels in Leviticus Rabbah 26:7 (on Lev 21:1) and in Numbers Rabbah on Num 34:2. Neither of these passages explicitly mentions eschatological secrets, but the latter says that God showed Moses “all that had been and all that was to be,” and also that he showed him Gehenna. On the tendency to authorize new revelations or interpretations by attributing them to Moses, see Hindy Najman, Seconding Sinai: The Development of Mosaic Discourse in Second Temple Judaism ( JSJSup 77; Leiden: Brill, 2003). The epilogue of 4 Ezra represents a variation of “Mosaic discourse,” since the authority of Moses is transferred to Ezra by presenting him as analogous to Moses. 10 As Stone observes in the introduction to his commentary (Fourth Ezra, 37–38), the epilogue leaves little room for doubt that the pseudepigraphic author is the biblical scribe Ezra, despite the exilic setting. The possibility that the apocalypse was attributed to a different Ezra was raised by Robert A. Kraft, “Ezra Materials in Judaism and Christianity,” ANRW 19.1:134. His suggestion that 4 Ezra was written in the persona of the “prophet Ezra,” as distinct from the “priestly Ezra,” seems to be prompted by a distinction made in some 4th–5th century Christian sources as a way of resolving the chronological difficulties created by 4 Ezra’s placement of Ezra in the exile (and probably also the chronological problems inherent in the biblical texts relating to Ezra). 11 Uriel mentions the existence of others who were “taken up” alive to heaven (6:26), and associates them with the Messiah in 7:28 and 13:52. Although Uriel uses

the epilogue and the context and purpose of 4 ezra

209

a reckoning of the time remaining until the end of the age that is more exact than any of Uriel’s answers to his questions about the eschatological timetable. Unfortunately, the versions disagree on the reckoning (some omit it altogether), so it is uncertain whether the author placed Ezra when two and one half parts out of twelve, or one half part out of ten, remained before the end of the age.12 In any case, he is clearly not living in the last days, since he is also told that “. . . evils worse than those that you have now seen happen shall take place hereafter. For the weaker the world becomes through old age, the more shall evils be increased upon its inhabitants” (14:16–17; cf. 14:10, 5:50–55). That these verses point ahead to the author’s own times becomes clear in the next verse, “Truth shall go farther away, and falsehood shall come near. For the eagle that you saw in the vision is already hurrying to come” (14:18).13 the phrase “those who are like you” (14:9) to refer to the few who will be saved (8:51) and similarly limits the revelation of eschatological secrets to “you and a few like you” (8:62), he never promises Ezra that he will be among those taken up to heaven. There is no reason to assume (as Stone seems to, in Fourth Ezra, 172 and 420) that to the author these three groups are coextensive, just because Ezra happens to belong to all three of them. It is possible that Uriel is meant not to know that Ezra is to become one of the companions of the Messiah, since when Ezra asks if he will be alive in the last days, Uriel replies, “. . . I was not sent to tell you concerning your life, for I do not know” (4:52). 12 For the textual evidence, see Stone, Fourth Ezra, 414; for a discussion of parallels, see ibid., 421. The division into twelve periods seems slightly more likely, given that it is paralleled in 2 Bar. 53 and Apoc. Ab. 29:2, and also because that would allow for more time between Ezra’s translation and the time of the end. In his commentary on 10:45, according to which the Temple was built in the 3,000th year after the creation of the world, Stone tentatively suggests that the author is presuming a world age of 6,000 years (ibid., 337). If the division 9 ½–2 ½ is original, that would mean the end is about 1250 years away from the fictive date, while the 9 ½– ½ division would put the end only 300 years away. Neither possibility can easily be reconciled with the dating of Ezra’s translation “in the seventh year of the sixth week, five thousand years and three months and twelve [or twenty-two] days after creation” (14:49), if Stone is right that the date of Ezra’s translation is also based on a “calculation by millennia.” (If so, it would appear that there are actually two conflicting dates implied in that verse, the first in the year 5007 and the second in the year 5000 Anno Mundi.) If the author believed that the world would end in the year 6000, and the 400-year messianic era (cf. 7:28–30) is presumed to be included in the approximately 1000 years between Ezra’s translation and the end (according to 14:49), and the author expected the advent of the Messiah sometime around 100 c.e. (according to the Eagle Vision), then the dating of Ezra’s translation is only off by about 50 years from the setting of the book in 557 b.c.e. (the thirtieth year after the destruction of Jerusalem). That date is not explicitly related to the time remaining to the end, however, while the scheme in 14:11–12 is. So it is probably safe to assume that the author was not too concerned with reconciling the date of Ezra’s translation with his expectations concerning the end. 13 Stone (Fourth Ezra, 423–24) is right to point out the tension in this verse between

210

chapter five

The point the Most High is making is that the evils Ezra has lived through pale in comparison to what will occur in the reign of the eagle (i.e., Rome), and therefore Ezra is fortunate to be leaving this world behind prior to those times. In the process of consoling Ezra for his passing from the world, the Most High calls into question the conclusion that Ezra and Uriel agreed upon after the vision of the Man, that “those who are left [alive in the last days] are more blessed than those who have died” (13:24).14 It is likely that the author did in fact believe that it is a blessing to be alive in the last days and he had to account for the fact that this blessing was denied to Ezra. His way around this problem was to confer an even greater blessing on Ezra, that of being one of the companions of the Messiah. The gap between Ezra’s time and the present is also emphasized in Ezra’s response to the instructions of the Most High. Besides preparing himself to depart from this world, the Most High commanded Ezra to “reprove your people: comfort the lowly among them and instruct those that are wise” (14:13). While Ezra does not make any objection to his own imminent translation, his reply shows that he is still thinking about the fate of others, in this case those born in future generations who will not have him there to “reprove” them (14:20). More than about his own absence, however, Ezra is concerned about the absence of the Torah, which “has been burned, and so no one knows the things which have been done or will be done by you” (14:21; cf. 4:23).15 The idea of restoring the Torah comes, surprisingly, not from God, but from Ezra.

the author’s sense of urgency about the approach of the end and the pseudepigraphic framework within which he is working. Nevertheless, it is not surprising that the author should fail to account for the intervening Persian and Hellenistic periods, since clearly the author is not so much concerned with actual chronology as with the parallel (and here the contrast) between Ezra’s fictitious setting in the exile and his own times. 14 See above, chapter IV, section 3.3. Technically, however, the Most High does not contradict Uriel’s statement (13:24), since Ezra does not die—nor Ezra’s conclusion that “it is better to come into these things, though incurring peril, than to pass from the world like a cloud, and not to see what will happen in the last days” (13:20), since Ezra is allowed to see what will happen in the last days. 15 See above, note 4. The notion that the Torah was completely lost in the first Destruction is not found in other Jewish sources, but Stone (Fourth Ezra, 411) cites some rabbinic parallels for the idea that Ezra was a lawgiver on a par with Moses because he gave the Torah to Israel “in the square script and the Aramaic tongue” (t. Sanh. 4:7 and b. Sanh. 21b). Ezra’s role in restoring the lost Scriptures is found in a number of Christian sources, probably all dependent on 4 Ezra. See Kraft, “Ezra Materials,” 126.

the epilogue and the context and purpose of 4 ezra

211

Ezra’s concern to leave behind the Torah for future generations is certainly meant to recall that of Moses in Deuteronomy, but more importantly, it confirms that the protagonist of the book is in fact the biblical Ezra, the “scribe of the law of the God of Heaven” (Ezra 7:12, 21).16 In actuality, Ezra’s pessimism at the beginning of the book regarding his people’s ability to keep the law is reminiscent of the biblical Ezra’s mood in most of the book of Ezra (especially the prayer in Ezra 9), and even Moses had his pessimistic moments when it seemed to him that the Torah could only serve as a “witness against” the people (Deut 31:27–29). Ezra’s attitude toward the Torah in the epilogue is altogether different, and is probably meant to recall the celebratory mood that Ezra enjoins upon the people when he reads them the Torah in Nehemiah 8. Here the reason Ezra gives for wanting to restore the Torah is “so that people may be able to find the path, and that those who want to live in the last days may do so” (14:22).17 Ezra’s implication that salvation is available to all who choose to observe the Torah indicates on the one hand that he has finally accepted Uriel’s position that keeping the commandments is the path to “life” (cf. especially Uriel’s citation of Deut 30:19 in 7:127–29). On the other hand, his optimism about people’s being able to “find the path” certainly does not come from the dialogues. Although Uriel emphasizes freedom of choice, he generally does so in the context of people’s failure to keep the commandments (cf. 7:20–25, 37, 72, 129–31). In the fourth lament (9:29–37), Ezra is even more pessimistic about the possibility of observing the law than he was at the beginning of the book. Therefore, his

16 On the author’s choice of Ezra as his protagonist and pseudonym, see below, section 1.4. 17 “To live in the last days” clearly refers to the reward of eternal life. Stone (Fourth Ezra, 427) points to a similar passage in 2 Baruch, when Baruch has been told that he will be taken up to heaven after forty days: “Go now therefore during these days and instruct the people so far as thou art able, that they may learn so as not to die at the last time, but may learn in order that they may live at the last times” (76:5). Stone comments, “The Torah enables humans to achieve eternal life.” It is worth noting, however, that while Baruch’s speech to the people immediately following this injunction concerns the Torah and the people’s failure to keep the commandments, the remainder of his instruction (which takes the form of a letter to the “nine and a half tribes” in chapters 78–86) includes eschatological revelations along with encouragement to keep the commandments. Thus 2 Baruch extends to the people as a whole the “instruction” that is reserved for the wise in 4 Ezra (14:13). On the different perspectives on the law as a path to eternal life in 4 Ezra and 2 Baruch, see Shannon Burkes, “ ‘Life’ Redefined: Wisdom and Law in Fourth Ezra and Second Baruch,” CBQ 63 (2001): 55–71.

212

chapter five

newly positive view of the Torah in the epilogue must stem from the generally hopeful outlook that he gained from the visions.18 Another reason that Ezra’s understanding of the Torah in the epilogue cannot be assimilated to that of Uriel in the dialogues is that, with the exception of 14:30, Ezra is apparently using the term “Torah” to refer to Scripture as a whole, as is common in rabbinic usage.19 Moreover, he emphasizes the narrative over the prescriptive content when he asks for inspiration to write “everything that has happened in the world from the beginning, the things that were written in your law” (14:22; cf. 14:21). The implication of 14:21 is that the Scriptures not only reveal what God has done for his people in the past, but at least hint at the divine plan for the future. Perhaps that is why Ezra, with his newfound hope of eschatological salvation for his people, is so keen to restore the Torah. 1.2

Ezra’s Speech to the People

Despite his optimism regarding their salvation, Ezra’s speech to the people in 14:27–36 offers no hint of what he learned from the visions,20 in keeping with the command he received in 12:37–38 to keep those things secret and share them only with “the wise among your people.” Thus it is hardly a summary of the author’s theological solution to the problems raised in the dialogues, as Brandenburger maintains.21 Instead, 18 Knowles (“Unity of 4 Ezra,” 273) notes the development in Ezra’s view of the law in this verse, pointing especially to his new belief in “the Law’s efficacy . . . in accomplishing that which it demands.” 19 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 88, 427. See my article, “The Meanings of tôrâ in 4 Ezra,” JSJ 38 (2007): 549. There is general agreement that the twenty-four books that Ezra dictates first represent the Hebrew Scriptures, despite the fact that this is the earliest attestation of the traditional rabbinic accounting of the Hebrew canon, according to Stone (Fourth Ezra, 441). Josephus (C. Ap. 1.38) reckons the number as twenty-two, the number of letters in the Hebrew alphabet. 20 The only allusion to the visions is an oblique reference to the lost tribes, revealing nothing about their eschatological destiny: “And now you are here, and your people (Lat: your brothers) are farther in the interior” (14:33). 21 Egon Brandenburger, Die Verborgenheit Gottes im Weltgeschehen: Das literarische und theologische Problem des 4. Esrabuches (ATANT 68; Zurich: Theologischer Verlag, 1981), 137, 187. Brandenburger, of course, sees the visions as affirming Uriel’s position in the dialogues, but Ezra’s farewell speech to the people is not even an accurate summary of Uriel’s position (see the following paragraphs). Wolfgang Harnisch also regards Ezra’s speech to the people as the focus of the epilogue (“Der Prophet als Widerpart und Zeuge der Offenbarung: Erwägungen zur Interdependenz von Form und Sache im IV. Buch Ezra,” in Apocalypticism in the Mediterranean World and the Near East: Proceedings

the epilogue and the context and purpose of 4 ezra

213

it is the fulfillment of one part of the commandment he received in 14:13: he reproves and then comforts the “lowly” among the people.22 The “reproof” takes the form of another summary of salvation history with the emphasis on Israel’s transgression of the law, similar in theme to Ezra’s opening lament, but even more similar to the beginning of his fourth lament (9:29–32), because the blame for the transgression and its consequences is placed squarely on the people (and also because it begins with the exodus, not with creation). Whereas Ezra’s fourth lament ends with a non sequitur, and on a despairing note—“For we who have received the law and sinned will perish . . .” (9:36)—his speech to the people represents their punishment, the loss of their land, as already behind them (14:32). The “comfort” consists of an exhortation, “[i]f you, then, will rule over your minds and discipline your hearts, you shall be kept alive, and after death you shall obtain mercy” (14:34), and a promise, “[f ]or after death the judgment will come, when we shall live again; and then the names of the righteous will become manifest, and the deeds of the ungodly will be disclosed” (14:35). By presenting the judgment is such a positive light, Ezra is either shielding the people from Uriel’s depressing message in the dialogues about the few who will be saved, or openly disagreeing with it. The opening words of the speech, “Hear these words, O Israel” (14:28), reinforce the parallel with Moses’ farewell speech in Deuteronomy, and the next two verses, “At first our ancestors lived as aliens in Egypt, and they were liberated from there and received the law of life, which they did not keep, which you also have transgressed after them” (14:29–30), echo the beginning of God’s speech to Ezra concerning Moses (14:3–4). Apart from the present instance, the expression “the law of life” occurs only in Sir 17:11 and 45:5, also in the context of the giving of the law at Sinai, but it recalls Baruch 3:9 (“Hear, O Israel, the commandments of life . . .”) as well as Uriel’s reinterpretation of Moses’ words in Deut 30:19 to refer to eternal life (7:129–31). The next verse, 14:31, contains another unique phrase, “land of Zion,” which

of the International Colloquium on Apocalypticism, Uppsala, August 12–17, 1979 (ed. David Hellholm; Tübingen: Mohr/Siebeck, 1983), 481. Both scholars overemphasize Ezra’s role as leader of the people in the epilogue (which is limited to this speech), ignoring the distinction between the lowly and the wise made in 14:13 and the higher value that is placed on the esoteric revelation in 14:45–47. 22 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 416.

214

chapter five

is however consistent with Ezra’s use of Zion as a metonym for Israel in the first lament and his general preoccupation with the destruction of Jerusalem. In contrast to his first lament, however, Ezra presents a traditional Deuteronomic perspective on the loss of the land, concluding that God is a “righteous judge” (14:32). While it is true that some of Uriel’s main points in the dialogues are conveyed to the people, Ezra’s speech balances Uriel’s emphasis on God’s justice with his own belief in God’s mercy (14:34). By using the phrase “law of life” in the context of his historical review, Ezra seizes upon a potential bridge between covenantal and eschatological wisdom. In order to present the two as compatible, however, Ezra must cover up the main sticking-point of the third dialogue: Uriel’s contention that “the world to come will bring delight to few, but torments to many” (7:47; cf. 9:14–16). In essence, Ezra’s speech to the people puts a positive spin on the main message of Uriel’s eschatological wisdom—that it is necessary to “rule over your minds and discipline your hearts” with an eye to the final judgment—and integrates it into a framework of covenantal theology. Thus, the speech reverses the analytical process of the dialogues, which drew out the incompatibilities between the two worldviews. If this speech is meant to be a model of appropriate reproof and comfort for the common people of the author’s time, it is significant that it avoids the most divisive issue discussed in the dialogues. 1.3

Ezra’s Scribal Legacy

The remainder of the epilogue is concerned with the writing of two collections of books—or rather scriptures, since they are all written from Ezra’s divinely-inspired dictation. In response to Ezra’s prayer for inspiration to rewrite the Torah (14:22), the Most High promises, “I will light in your heart the lamp of understanding, which shall not be put out until you finish what you are about to write” (14:25). As it turns out, the five scribes the Most High appoints to assist him (14:24) apparently do all of the writing, by turns, while Ezra dictates continuously, day and night, for forty days (14:42–44). The Most High hints that the writing will include more than the Torah (even in the broader sense of the Hebrew Scriptures) when he instructs Ezra, “And when you have finished, some things you shall make public, and some you shall deliver in secret to the wise; tomorrow at this hour you shall begin to write” (14:26). This verse obviously picks up on the command to Moses “quoted” in 14:6, which is really a foreshadowing of the task that

the epilogue and the context and purpose of 4 ezra

215

awaits Ezra.23 Thus, while the Most High leaves it to Ezra to propose rewriting the Torah, that is actually only a fraction of the project which he already had in mind for Ezra. The narrative of the writing (14:37–48) corresponds closely to the divine instructions in 14:23–26, underscoring Ezra’s obedience (cf. 14:27).24 What is elaborated in these verses is the nature of Ezra’s inspiration. Whereas the instructions of the Most High reaffirmed the parallel between Ezra and Moses, there are echoes of another prophetic call in 14:38–41, that of Ezekiel.25 Ezra hears a voice saying, “Ezra, open your mouth and drink what I give you to drink” (14:38), which recalls Ezekiel’s instructions to “open your mouth and eat what I give you” (Ezek 2:28; cf. 3:1). Ezra’s report of his actions begins like the beginning of Ezek 3:2, “So I opened my mouth,” but instead of a scroll he is given a cup “full of something like water, but its color was like fire,” which mimics the style of Ezekiel’s description of his vision of God (cf. Ezek 1:27). Similarly, there may be an allusion to Ezek 3:26–27 in 14:41, “and my mouth was opened and was no longer closed,” which refers to the divine word that is about to issue from Ezra’s mouth for the first time (since his mouth has hardly been “closed” throughout the book!). All of these allusions indicate that Ezra’s speech for the next forty days will not be his own, but that he will only be able to speak God’s words, like Ezekiel (cf. Ezek 3:25–27). Unlike Ezekiel or any of the other classical prophets, however, Ezra will address his inspired speech not to the people as a whole, but only to the five divinelyappointed scribes. On the other hand, the nature of Ezra’s inspiration is described in sapiential terms in 14:40: “I took it and drank; and when I had drunk it, my heart poured forth understanding, and wisdom increased in my breast, for my spirit retained its memory. . . .” This description is consistent with the divine promise of inspiration, “I will light in your heart

23 Stone (Fourth Ezra, 417) remarks that “Ezra does not ask for esoteric revelation in 14:19–22, because he already has it. He asks for exoteric revelation, and his request is granted. Thus he truly becomes like Moses, who received both revelations.” It is significant, however, that a far greater proportion of the revelation he receives in the epilogue (at least in terms of numbers of books) is also esoteric, like the visions (12:37–38) and probably also the dialogues. The fact that Ezra does not ask for more esoteric revelation has little influence on what he receives. 24 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 438. 25 Recall the probable allusion to Ezekiel’s call in the very first verse of the book, “In the thirtieth year . . .” (3:1; cf. Ezek 1:1).

216

chapter five

the lamp of understanding” (14:25). The five scribes, too, are given “understanding” in order that they may write “in characters which they did not know” (14:42), although their inspiration is clearly of a lower order than that of Ezra.26 The sapiential language applied to Ezra’s (and the other scribes’) inspiration is echoed in the pronouncement of the Most High concerning the seventy books that Ezra is told to reserve for “the wise”: “For in them is the spring of understanding, the fountain of wisdom and the river of knowledge” (14:47). This characterization of the seventy secret books in turn recalls Ben Sira’s comparison of the Torah to a series of rivers, overflowing with “wisdom,” “understanding” and “instruction” (Sir 24:25–27). Ben Sira describes his own role as a wisdom teacher and interpreter of the Torah as “like a canal from a river, like a water channel into a garden” (24:30), and later adds, significantly, “I will again pour out teaching like prophecy . . .” (24:33). It is not certain exactly what Ben Sira meant by comparing his teaching to prophecy, but the fact that he did so means that he saw no essential difference between the inspired speech of a prophet and wisdom instruction, at least the kind that flows from the Torah.27 The fact that the contents of the seventy esoteric books are described with wisdom terminology, but the twenty-four books of the Hebrew Scriptures (which Ezra earlier referred to as “the law”) are not, contrasts with the passage from Sirach. Nevertheless, the comparison of the two passages highlights the parallel between Ezra’s prophetic inspiration and the wisdom contained in the seventy books that are the possession of “the wise.” The scene of Ezra’s inspiration to dictate the two sets of scriptures is also the culmination of the theme of Ezra’s own wisdom, which has been present since the beginning of the book (cf. Uriel’s praise of Ezra’s lifelong dedication to wisdom in 13:53–55).

The detail of writing in unfamiliar characters, while here functioning to reinforce the idea of the scribes’ inspiration, probably derives from the tradition, known to the Rabbis and to Jerome, that the Aramaic square script was introduced in the time of Ezra. According to Stone (Fourth Ezra, 440), this tradition “perhaps preserves actual historical memory.” 27 This is so even if “[t]he specific point of comparison with prophecy here is that [Ben Sira’s wisdom] remains for future generations” ( John J. Collins, Jewish Wisdom in the Hellenistic Age [OTL; Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1997], 53). Skehan and DiLella interpret the comparison to mean that “[Ben Sira] is aware of his own inspiration from God, as the prophets of old were of theirs (cf. Jer 1:7, 9); and like them, he utters his wisdom for the benefit of others” (Patrick W. Skehan and Alexander A. DiLella, The Wisdom of Ben Sira [AB 39; New York: Doubleday, 1987], 338). 26

the epilogue and the context and purpose of 4 ezra

217

The identity of the seventy books is not as obvious as that of the twenty-four, but most scholars agree that they are apocalyptic works, because the instructions to “keep the seventy that were written last, in order to give them to the wise among your people” (14:46) recall Uriel’s instructions regarding Ezra’s own visions, to hide the written record of them and to “teach them to the wise among your people” (12:36–37).28 If one of the purposes of the epilogue is to legitimate apocalyptic books by associating them with Ezra’s scribal activity, it may be that the author took for granted that the Hebrew Scriptures (the twenty-four books) are divinely inspired and therefore full of wisdom. Since “the worthy and the unworthy” may read the twenty-four books, however, they certainly do not contain the same type of wisdom found in the seventy books that are reserved for “the wise.” No generally accepted explanation has been offered for the author’s choice of the number seventy to represent apocalyptic works, although Longenecker has suggested that it is a numerical code (gematria) for the Hebrew word ‫סוד‬, secret, “signifying the character of the eschatological mysteries.”29 It seems more likely, however, that the number seventy symbolizes a totality, implying that there is a whole body of revelation outside of Scripture that is accessible only to the wise.30

28 Ginzberg’s interpretation of the seventy books as referring to the Oral Law (Louis Ginzberg, The Legends of the Jews [Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1928], 6:446) has found support only from A. Kaminka, Sefer Hazonot ’Assir She’alti’el (Tel Aviv: Dvir, 1936, in Hebrew); see Stone, Fourth Ezra, 441, note 22. 29 Bruce W. Longenecker, Second Esdras (Guides to Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1995), 91–92. The word ‫ סוד‬is a noun, not an adjective, however, and in any case “secret” is an extension of its primary meaning in biblical Hebrew, council (intimate circle) or counsel. (In rabbinic Hebrew, according to Jastrow, the primary meaning is “foundation” or “principle,” although the biblical meanings also occur.) Moreover, the character of the books is itself no “secret” (cf. 14:5–6), which would necessitate the use of a numerical code, unlike the example of Rev 13:18 (“This calls for wisdom: let anyone with understanding calculate the number of the beast, for it is the number of a person. Its number is six hundred sixty-six.”), which Longenecker cites as a parallel. 30 See Hogan, “Meanings of tôrâ,” 550. Examples of the number seventy symbolizing a totality include the seventy members of the house of Jacob (Gen 46:27, Exod 1:5), the seventy elders of Israel (Exod 24:1, Num 11:16, and cf. Ezek 8:11), the seventy years of the Babylonian exile ( Jer 25:11–12, 29:10, and cf. Dan 9:2, 24), or the seventy nations of the world listed in Genesis 10.

218

chapter five 1.4

The Pseudepigraphic Setting

The original ending of 4 Ezra, preserved in most of the versions apart from the Latin (which appended 6 Ezra to the end as well as adding 5 Ezra to the beginning), recounts the translation of Ezra to heaven, called “the place of those who are like him” (14:50; cf. 14:9). The two systems of dating his translation, along with the problem of reconciling either system of dating with the scheme of the twelve (or ten) parts in 14:11–12, were treated above.31 For our purposes, the most interesting aspect of the concluding verses is the title given to Ezra, “the scribe of the knowledge of the Most High.” Stone is certainly correct that this is an adaptation of the title given to Ezra by King Artaxerxes in Ezra 7:21 (cf. 7:12), “the scribe of the Law of the God of Heaven,” in keeping with the fact that the revelation Ezra has received includes much more than the Torah (even in the broadest sense).32 Not only is “knowledge” a more inclusive term than “law,” it connects Ezra specifically with the seventy books that contain the “river of knowledge” (14:47), implying that they are his more important legacy. On the other hand, the concluding verse reinforces Ezra’s traditional identity as a scribe, and actually is the only place in the book that he is explicitly identified as such (but cf. 12:37 and 14:22). The notice of Ezra’s translation to heaven brings together the two major themes of the epilogue: first, Ezra’s exceptional righteousness and wisdom; and second, his scribal legacy: the existence of two sets of scriptures, one to “comfort the lowly” and the other to “instruct those that are wise” (14:13). The epilogue thus functions as a reminder of the pseudepigraphic nature of 4 Ezra and cautions the reader against assuming that the narrative is a representation of the author’s own experiences, as psychological interpretations sometimes seem to do.33 Of course, such an assumption would be naïve even for a non-pseudepigraphic work. The author seems to acknowledge the distance between Ezra’s experiences and his own when he contrasts Ezra’s times with his own (14:16–18).

31 See above, note 12. It is possible that by mentioning specific yet conflicting dates at the end of his book, the author of 4 Ezra was alluding to the conflicting figures at the end of the book of Daniel (Dan 12:11–12), though it is anybody’s guess how he understood that discrepancy. Here, the more subtly conflicting dates do not appear to be the result of updating (though an accidental textual corruption cannot be ruled out), since they are not directly related to the author’s eschatological expectations. 32 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 442. 33 See chapter I, section 2.3.

the epilogue and the context and purpose of 4 ezra

219

The two climactic events of the epilogue, the inspired writing of the Scriptures and Ezra’s translation to heaven, obviously derive from the author’s beliefs about the scribe Ezra (whether traditional or original) and do not directly relate to the author’s own experiences. In the argument that follows, I assume that the author of 4 Ezra knew the book(s) of Ezra-Nehemiah in something like their canonical form. If the so-called epilogue is viewed not as the dénouement but as the true climax of 4 Ezra, the choice of Ezra as the pseudepigraphic “author” and protagonist makes perfect sense, given the author’s evident preoccupation with “Torah.”34 The promulgation of the Mosaic Torah by Ezra marks a turning point in the development of Judaism as a text-centered religion, according to Ezra-Nehemiah.35 That is, whatever the role of the historical Ezra in relation to the Torah, the final form of Ezra-Nehemiah credits Ezra with the promulgation of the Torah (Nehemiah 8) and presents the Torah as a fixed, authoritative text similar in content to the final form of the Pentateuch (especially Nehemiah 9–10).36 By adopting the persona of the scribe Ezra, the author of 4 Ezra claims authority not only for the positions taken by Ezra in the dialogues,37 but also for the apocalyptic writings that he wishes to elevate in the eyes of “the wise.” The author exaggerates Ezra’s importance relative to the Torah, making him not just its promulgator but the inspired restorer of all twenty-four books of the (proto-) canonical Scriptures—but then presents his dictation of esoteric apocalyptic texts as an even greater achievement. Moreover, he sets up See chapter III, section 3.4, especially note 68. Hindy Najman traces the development prior to Ezra of the authority and sacredness of texts in her essay, “The Symbolic Significance of Writing in Ancient Judaism” in The Idea of Biblical Interpretation: Essays in Honor of James L. Kugel (ed. H. Najman and J. H. Newman; JSJSup 83; Leiden: Brill, 2004), 139–73. See also Susan Niditch, Oral World and Written Word (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1996), 78–107 especially 105–106 on the significance of Nehemiah 8; and Michael Fishbane, “From Scribalism to Rabbinism: Perspectives on the Emergence of Classical Judaism,” in The Sage in Israel and the Ancient Near East (ed. J. G. Gammie and L. G. Perdue; Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1990), 439–56 (especially 440). 36 David Carr suggests that “[b]y the time of the authoring of Ezra-Nehemiah, Israel appears to have endorsed a Mosaic Torah made up of both the Priestly Proto-Pentateuch and its non-Priestly counterpart” (Writing on the Tablet of the Heart, 170). Juha Pakkala agrees on this point, even though he traces a long and complex redaction-history of the Ezra material in Ezra-Nehemiah, and hence calls into question historical reconstructions based on the final form of the books. See his book Ezra the Scribe: The Development of Ezra 7–10 and Nehemia 8 (BZAW 347; Berlin: de Gruyter, 2004), 278–90. 37 A. P. Hayman, “The Problem of Pseudonymity in the Ezra Apocalypse,” JSJ 6 (1975): 51. 34 35

220

chapter five

Moses as a precedent for the writing of esoteric sacred texts in addition to public ones (14:5–6). On the other hand, the author’s desire to expand Ezra’s scribal legacy does not account for the setting of 4 Ezra in the Babylonian Exile. The Babylonian location of Ezra’s scribal activity is compatible with Ezra 7:6–10, but the chronological placement of Ezra “in the thirtieth year after the destruction of our city” (3:1) is off by at least a century, if Ezra’s mission began in the seventh year of Artaxerxes I (458 b.c.e.), or a century and a half, if it is to be dated to the seventh year of Artaxerxes II (398 b.c.e.).38 The actual date of Ezra’s mission is not relevant here, however; what matters is the date that the author of 4 Ezra might have inferred from the notoriously difficult chronology of the book of Ezra-Nehemiah, combined with other sources for the early Persian period, such as Haggai and Zechariah. Even if the author was not aware of the time interval between the events of Ezra 1–6 (which cover the period from the Decree of Cyrus in 538 b.c.e. to the dedication of the Second Temple in 515 b.c.e.) and the arrival of Ezra in the seventh year of King Artaxerxes (Ezra 7:7), he could have inferred from Haggai and Zechariah and from the naming of several Persian kings in Ezra 1–6 that at least a couple of decades elapsed between the end of the Exile and the rebuilding of the Temple. He presumably also knew that nearly two decades elapsed between “the thirtieth year” after the destruction and the end of the Exile—in fact he may well have believed that the exile lasted seventy years (based on Jer 25:11–12, 29:10). Stone considers it possible that the author of 4 Ezra was unaware of the anachronism of placing Ezra in the thirtieth year of the Exile, speculating that he might have understood the traditional “seventy years” of the exile to extend from the destruction of the Temple to the Judean mission of Ezra (and hence have believed all of these events to have occurred in Ezra’s lifetime).39 It is difficult to see, in that case, why the author would bother to identify the narrator as “I, Salathiel, who am also called Ezra” (3:1). Since Salathiel (Shealtiel, son of Jehoiachin and father of Zerubbabel) belongs to the 38 On the difficulty of dating Ezra’s mission relative to Nehemiah, see Ralph W. Klein, “Ezra-Nehemiah, Books of,” ABD 2:735–37. A very helpful essay relating the chronological problems of Ezra-Nehemiah to its composition history is Sara Japhet, “Composition and Chronology in the Book of Ezra-Nehemiah,” in From the Rivers of Babylon to the Highlands of Judah: Collected Studies on the Restoration Period (Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2006), 245–67. 39 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 54.

the epilogue and the context and purpose of 4 ezra

221

generation of the Exile, and Ezra is never again called Salathiel in the remainder of the book, the first verse is probably an acknowledgement that the setting is anachronistic, a signal that the author was not aiming at historical accuracy. That is, it may be compared to the deliberate “historical blunders” found in the Jewish novellas of this period, which were a means of identifying a work as fictional.40 After all, there is no mention of Ezra’s Judean mission and the book ends with Ezra’s translation to heaven! The temporal aspect of the setting is generally agreed to mirror the author’s own time, approximately thirty years after the second destruction of Jerusalem. The analogy should not be taken too literally, however, since there is no reason to believe that the author of 4 Ezra was physically in exile when he wrote it.41 The placement of Ezra in the Babylonian Exile should be viewed as a literary decision, not the inevitable result of the author’s historical circumstances. The first words of the book, “in the thirtieth year,” are the same as the first words of Ezekiel, another book set entirely in the Babylonian Exile—as is much of the book of Daniel, to which 4 Ezra explicitly alludes (12:10). The author must have chosen the exilic setting for its symbolic significance, finding it an apt analogy for his people’s experience in the wake of the destruction of Jerusalem by the Romans. The setting of 4 Ezra connects it to other books written or set in the Babylonian Exile, a time and place associated with lamentation, repentance and waiting for salvation to come. Similarly, the book of Baruch places the scribe Baruch in the Babylonian Exile, against the tradition in Jeremiah 43 that Baruch was taken to Egypt along with Jeremiah, presumably because that setting complements the message of the book, that Israel’s salvation depends on their repentance and return to Torah-observance. In the case of 4 Ezra, the exilic setting adds poignancy both to the reflections on theodicy in the dialogues and to the promises of salvation in the visions.

40 See Lawrence M. Wills, The Jewish Novel in the Ancient World (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1995), 217–24. 41 A few commentators have suggested that the book was actually written in Rome (based on the Rome-Babylon typology of the first lament): G. Volkmar, Das vierte Buch Esrae (“Esdra Propheta”) (Handbuch der Einleitung in die Apokryphen, vol. 2; Tübingen: Fues, 1863), 329 and B. Violet, Die Esra-Apokalypse (IV Esra), vol. 1: Die Überlieferung (GCS 18; Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1910), 33. See Stone’s comments on the unlikelihood of such a typological interpretation of the setting, in Fourth Ezra, 56–7, and similarly Collins, Apocalyptic Imagination, 196.

222

chapter five 2. The Author’s Social Location and Purpose

The testamentary character of the epilogue, with its orientation toward those who will remain after Ezra’s departure from this world, attempts to bridge the gap between Ezra’s time and the author’s present. The instructions of the Most High to Ezra concerning the end of his earthly existence (14:13–15) and in a different way Ezra’s instructions to the people (14:28–36) provide paradigms for life in the last days. The author apparently believed that he was living in the last days of the Roman Empire (to judge from the Eagle Vision). It is therefore reasonable to look to the epilogue for indications of the author’s social location and purpose. 2.1 Social Location and Intended Audience The distinction between the scriptures intended for public consumption and those restricted to the wise (14:45–46) is the clearest indication of the book’s intended audience. As Michael Knibb, who was the first to make this point, put it: “4 Ezra is not a popular book: it is a product of learned study intended for a learned audience.”42 He supported this conclusion with a survey of the author’s use of Scripture. Although Knibb did not venture any guesses about the author’s social location, his observations are consistent with the hypothesis that the author was a scribe, which is suggested by the emphasis in the epilogue on scribal activity. In particular, the naming of Ezra’s five assistants and the implication that they are also inspired (14:24, 42) indicate that the author had an interest in scribalism per se, and not simply because Ezra was a scribe. As discussed above, the author’s choice of Ezra as his pseudonym was probably due mainly to Ezra’s fame as a scribe and promulgator of the Torah. He shows no interest, by contrast, in Ezra’s priestly background or in his prohibition of exogamy. It is hardly radical to suggest that the author of 4 Ezra was a scribe, but what does that imply about his position in society? The first scholars to claim that apocalyptic literature is a “scribal phenomenon” were arguing for a wisdom background against the widely-held assumption that apocalypticism grew out of biblical prophecy.43 Since the wisdom-

42 43

Michael A. Knibb, “Apocalyptic and Wisdom in 4 Ezra,” JSJ 13 (1982): 72. The first scholar to describe apocalypticism as a “scribal phenomenon” was J. Z.

the epilogue and the context and purpose of 4 ezra

223

prophecy dichotomy has been rendered more or less moot by more recent discussions of the background of apocalypticism, it is no longer the issue behind Philip Davies’s claim that scribal circles are the most likely cultural context for the production of apocalypses.44 Instead, Davies disputed what he took to be the consensus of scholarship at the time, that the Jewish apocalypses originated in “counter-establishment conventicles,” by claiming that they are the work of “politically ‘establishment’ and culturally cosmopolitan scribes.”45 Davies’s image of the typical scribe is based, reasonably enough, on Ben Sira (especially Sir 38:34b–39:11), but he damages the credibility of his argument by attempting in a few sentences to overthrow the scholarly consensus that Ben Sira’s interests were different from, even opposed to, those of the authors of the apocalypses.46 It is quite unnecessary to his argument to Smith, in his essay “Wisdom and Apocalyptic,” in Religious Syncretism in Antiquity: Essays in Conversation with Geo Widengren (ed. B. Pearson; Series on Formative Contemporary Thinkers 1; Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press, 1975), 140. It was of course Gerhard von Rad who first observed that apocalypses tend to be ascribed to scribes or sages, not prophets, in his Old Testament Theology (2 vols.; trans. D. M. G. Stalker; New York: Harper & Row, 1962–1965), 2:306. 44 Philip R. Davies, “The Social World of Apocalyptic Writings,” in The World of Ancient Israel: Sociological, Anthropological and Political Perspectives (ed. R. E. Clements; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989), 251–71. On the shift in the debate over the relationship of apocalypticism to wisdom, see chapter I, section 1. 45 Davies, “Social World,” 263. The term “conventicles” originated with P. Vielhauer, “Apocalypses and Related Subjects,” in New Testament Apocrypha (ed. E. Hennecke and W. Schneemelcher; London: SCM; Philadelphia: Westminster, 1965), 2:598, while “counter-establishment” represents the views of O. Plöger, Theocracy and Eschatology (Oxford: Blackwell, 1968) and P. D. Hanson, The Dawn of Apocalyptic (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1975). Davies also includes H. H. Rowley and Martin Hengel in the same general view of the social context of the apocalypses. Lester L. Grabbe argues against a similar presumed consensus in “The Social Setting of Early Jewish Apocalypticism,” JSP 4 (1989): 27–47, but his alternative context is more general: “Apocalypses seem often to be the product of the intelligentsia (scribal or priestly elements) or leadership of a community, whatever the status of the individual members.” Grabbe’s essay is programmatic and his approach is comparative, drawing on a wide range of sociological and anthropological data, so it discusses the Jewish apocalypses only in the most general terms. Five years before Davies and Grabbe published these essays, John J. Collins had already described the “conventicle” theory of apocalypticism as “at best an unwarranted generalization” and had favored a scribal setting for its composition, in the first edition of The Apocalyptic Imagination (New York: Crossroad, 1984), 29–30. 46 A case can be made for a significant overlap of interests between Ben Sira and certain apocalyptic texts; see Randal A. Argall, 1 Enoch and Sirach: A Comparative Literary and Conceptual Analysis of the Themes of Revelation, Creation and Judgment (SBLEJL 8; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1995). Davies, who was writing before the publication of Argall’s dissertation, relies on generalizations and a tendentious reading of Ben Sira’s description of the activities of the scribe.

224

chapter five

maintain that all scribes shared apocalyptic interests—the salient point is that the authors of the apocalypses, as scribes, enjoyed a relatively high level of education (in particular, a thorough knowledge of Scripture) and a concomitant social status.47 Of course, belonging to the scribal profession and belonging to a sect were not mutually exclusive in the Second Temple period, as the extensive scribal activity at Qumran attests. Fourth Ezra was written some thirty years after the destruction of the Second Temple, however, by which time sectarianism had ceased to be a major factor in Palestinian Judaism, according to most historians of Judaism.48 Thus, regardless of the author’s social status, it is a priori unlikely that he belonged to a sect. The view of some scholars that 4 Ezra was written “within and in behalf of a sectarian community”49 seems to derive primarily from faulty assumptions about the social context of apocalypses in general, as Bruce W. Longenecker argues.50 It is possible to interpret Uriel’s emphasis on the salvation of a few righteous individuals and the perdition of the many as reflective of a sectarian mindset on the part of the author,51 but then how does one explain Ezra’s deep concern with the fate of Israel as a whole, which carries over even into the epilogue, or the hopes for national restoration expressed in the visions? Longe-

47 A helpful corrective to the sweeping generalizations of Davies’s essay is Richard A. Horsley, “The Politics of Cultural Production in Second Temple Judea: Historical Context and Political-Religious Relations of the Scribes who Produced 1 Enoch, Sirach and Daniel,” in Conflicted Boundaries in Wisdom and Apocalypticism (ed. B. J. Wright III and L. M. Wills; SBLSymS 35; Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2005), 123–45. 48 Shaye J. D. Cohen, “The Significance of Yavneh: Pharisees, Rabbis, and the End of Jewish Sectarianism,” HUCA 55 (1984): 27–53. According to Cohen, the destruction of the Temple “warned the Jews of the dangers of internal divisiveness and it removed one of the major focal points of Jewish sectarianism” (ibid., 29). See also Isaiah M. Gafni, “The Historical Background,” in The Literature of the Sages (ed. Shmuel Safrai; 2 vols.; CRINT 2/3a; Assen: Van Gorcum; Philadelphia: Fortress, 1987), 1:14–18. He disagrees with some of Cohen’s conclusions (ibid., 14, note 88), but affirms that “the Yavne period ushers in a negation of the very legitimacy of sectarian Judaism” (ibid., 17). 49 H. C. Kee, “‘The Man’ in Fourth Ezra: Growth of a Tradition,” in SBL Seminar Papers, 1981 (SBLSP 20; Chico, CA: Scholars Press, 1981), 206. 50 Bruce W. Longenecker, “Locating 4 Ezra: A Consideration of its Social Setting and Functions,” JSJ 28 (1997): 272–75. See also M. E. Stone, “Apocalyptic Literature,” in Jewish Writing of the Second Temple Period (ed. M. E. Stone; CRINT 2.2; Assen: van Gorcum; Philadelphia: Fortress, 1984), 431–32; and Collins, Apocalyptic Imagination, 38. 51 As for example do J. A. Overman, Matthew’s Gospel and Formative Judaism (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1990) and A. J. Saldarini, Matthew’s Jewish-Christian Community (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1994), according to Longenecker, “Locating 4 Ezra,” 273.

the epilogue and the context and purpose of 4 ezra

225

necker is no doubt correct to situate the author of 4 Ezra within the “mainstream” of Palestinian Judaism, and, following Knibb, within learned circles.52 Longenecker goes a step further, however, locating the author among the rabbinic sages at Yavneh. His strongest argument in favor of this location is a quotation from Neusner, to the effect that scribes would naturally have gravitated to Yavneh as “the place in which they might carry on their profession.”53 Even that is a fairly dubious claim, however.54 Ezra’s gathering of five scribes to assist in the restoration of the Scriptures, Longenecker suggests, is meant to recall the five disciples of Yohanan ben Zakkai, according to the tradition in m. Avot 2.8–14.55 Longenecker makes a strong negative case that the common polarization of “apocalyptic” and “rabbinic” interests is unwarranted, at least for the period between 70 and 132 c.e.56 He does not demonstrate a positive correspondence of concerns or goals, however, which would be extremely difficult, given the nature of the evidence for the activities of the first generations of the Tannaim at Yavneh.57 To judge from the

Longenecker, “Locating 4 Ezra,” 275–76. Longenecker, “Locating 4 Ezra,” 279, citing Jacob Neusner, “The Formation of Rabbinic Judaism: Yavneh ( Jamnia) from A.D. 70 to 100,” in ANRW 19.2:39. Neusner also stresses the continued high status of scribes in the first century c.e. 54 Gafni (“Historical Background,” 19) points out that “[t]he center at Yavne, it must be remembered, was not universally embraced, at least initially, by all Sages or even by all of Yohanan ben Zakkai’s disciples.” He adds that during the Yavneh period there were rabbinical schools at Lydda, Pekiin, Bnei Brak, Sepphoris, Sikhnin and elsewhere. 55 Actually, he cites Knibb, “Wisdom and Apocalyptic,” 73, note 48, for this observation, but Knibb suggested only that “there was a link of some kind between the author and the rabbinic circles of his day.” Similarly, Christopher Rowland, whom Longenecker cites in support of the same interpretation of the five scribes, suggested only a general similarity between Ezra’s role in the epilogue and that of Yohanan ben Zakkai, in The Open Heaven (London: SPCK, 1982), 253–54. Longenecker does not mention the comment of Stone on the five scribes (Fourth Ezra, 431–32), based on the parallel number of companions of Baruch in 2 Bar. 5:5 and another tradition about five companions of Ezra in Masseket Kelim 48, that “it may be that five was a traditional number for a group of disciples.” 56 Longenecker, “Locating 4 Ezra,” 280–84. Another example of polarization by oversimplification that Longenecker does not cite is Robert Kirschner, “Apocalyptic and Rabbinic Responses to the Destruction of 70,” HTR 78 (1985): 27–46. 57 Longenecker appears to rely primarily upon the reconstruction of the early years at Yavneh by Gedaliah Alon, The Jews in Their Land in the Talmudic Age (2 vols.; ed. and trans. Gershon Levi; Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 1980), 1:86–131, and on Neusner, “The Formation of Rabbinic Judaism.” Yet both scholars emphasize that the most reliable evidence for that period takes the form of halakhic decisions recorded in the Mishnah and Tosefta: the taqqanot of R. Yohanan b. Zakkai and the rulings of the second generation 52 53

226

chapter five

evidence of the Mishnah and Tosefta, one response of the Tannaim to the Destruction was to codify the Oral Law regarding Temple worship as though the Temple were still standing, perhaps because they expected it to be restored shortly.58 Not only does 4 Ezra view the Destruction as definitive and irrevocable, it shows no interest in halakhic disputes, despite its preoccupation with law in the abstract and with theological disputes. Although Stone cites many rabbinic parallels in his commentary (most of which come from the Talmuds and the Amoraic and later midrashim), he concludes that 4 Ezra is not a rabbinic text.59 Therefore, while it is not impossible that Longenecker is right about the identity of “the wise” to whom 4 Ezra is addressed, he has not brought any compelling evidence that the author of 4 Ezra was one of the rabbinic sages at Yavneh. The most specific social context that is warranted by the evidence of the epilogue is that the author was a scribal sage addressing himself to other sages. While he was concerned with the grief of the people as a whole and felt some responsibility to address it, he did not consider most of them “worthy” to read the sorts of revelations contained in his own book. The latter conclusion, which is admittedly more speculative than the first, is based both on the distinction between the twenty-four books intended for “the worthy and the unworthy” and the seventy restricted to “the wise,” and on nature of Ezra’s speech to the people (14:28–36), which conceals the revelations of the visions and glosses over the disagreements between Ezra and Uriel in the dialogues. In contrast to the pseudo-esotericism of Daniel (Dan 8:26, 12:4, 9), which anticipates the revelation of its “secrets” to the public in the “time of the end,” the epilogue of 4 Ezra

of Tannaim, under the leadership of Rabban Gamaliel II. Of course, even the Mishnah and Tosefta cannot be assumed to be reliable sources for the late first century c.e., as Neusner points out (“Formation of Rabbinic Judaism,” 13–16), given that they became fixed texts only in the third century (or even later for the Tosefta), but they are more likely to be reliable than later sources. On the dating of the Mishnah and Tosefta, I follow H. L. Strack and G. Stemberger, Introduction to the Talmud and Midrash (trans. Markus Bockmuehl; Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1991), 155–56, 175–76. 58 Strack and Stemberger, Introduction to the Talmud and Midrash, 5. 59 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 38–39, n. 268. The Tannaitic sources (Mishnah, Tosefta and halakhic midrashim) are largely silent about the wars with Rome and the events of recent history generally. A possible exception may be found in the midrash on Ha’azinu (Deuteronomy 32) in Sifre Deut §§ 306–41. Reuven Hammer has argued that this midrash (which was redacted early in the Amoraic period and cites mainly Tannaim) shows the challenge to rabbinic theology posed by the failure of the Bar Kokhba revolt. See his article, “A Rabbinic Response to the Post-Bar Kochba Era: the Sifre to Ha’azinu,” PAAJR 52 (1985): 37–53.

the epilogue and the context and purpose of 4 ezra

227

gives no indication that “the time has come to make this material available to the wider public.”60 Fourth Ezra is a genuinely esoteric book, in the sense that it is intended for a restricted audience in the author’s own time. 2.2

The Purpose of 4 Ezra

In discussions of the purpose of 4 Ezra, not enough attention has been paid to the divine command to Ezra to “reprove your people; comfort the lowly among them and instruct those that are wise” (14:13).61 This command clearly relates to the distinction in the epilogue between esoteric and exoteric revelation. It was in connection with this command that Stone observed that Ezra requests an exoteric revelation (the restoration of the Torah) in the epilogue because he has already received an esoteric one in the rest of the book.62 If, as Stone continues, Ezra’s speech to the people “contains the reproof and the comfort but not the instruction of the wise,” and if the rest of the book contains an esoteric revelation, then it would seem to follow that the rest of the book is intended for the instruction, and perhaps also the reproof, of the wise. At the very least, the divine command in 14:13 militates against the conclusion that the primary purpose of 4 Ezra was to comfort the people for the losses of 70 c.e.63 My reading of the dialogues as a wisdom debate is consistent with the purpose of instructing the wise. Ezra speaks for a group of sages, the tradents of the covenantal wisdom of Sirach and Baruch 3:9–4:4, whose worldview was shaken by the Destruction; Uriel represents eschatologically-oriented sages who were less affected by the Destruction because of their focus on the fate of individuals in the final judgment rather than

60 Pace Collins, Apocalyptic Imagination, 39. The same is true of 12:37–38, where Ezra is told to write down what he has seen and hide it, and also to teach it to the wise among the people. 61 Historically, this may be due to the fact that the phrase “and instruct those that are wise” is lacking from the Latin version and hence from many modern translations. 62 Stone, Fourth Ezra, 416. 63 This is most explicitly the conclusion of Breech, “These Fragments,” and more recently of Philip F. Esler, “The Social Function of 4 Ezra,” JSNT 53 (1994): 99–123. Both deal with the text rather superficially, avoiding any discussion of the content of the dialogues and overlooking the distinction between the wise and the lowly in the epilogue. Longenecker, who has read the text much more carefully and moreover believes that the distinction between the lowly and the wise points to a restricted intended audience, nevertheless considers the ultimate purpose of the book to be the “the recovery of the people’s national psyche” (“Locating 4 Ezra,” 287).

228

chapter five

on the fate of Israel in the present. On the one hand, the dialogues demonstrate that the worldview of covenantal wisdom, which assumes that both God’s justice and his favor toward Israel will be manifest in this world, is not able to cope with the crisis of the Destruction. At the same time, they show that eschatological wisdom is cold comfort for those mourning the loss of Zion, and is not necessarily more credible, just because it is not undermined by historical events. The dialogues expose tensions inherent in each form of wisdom: between universalism and particularism in the case of covenantal wisdom, and between appeals to reason and the revelation of eschatological mysteries in the case of eschatological wisdom. The inconclusive ending of the dialogues and the irony of the fourth lament imply that while neither form of wisdom is adequate by itself, a logical synthesis of covenantal and eschatological wisdom is impossible. If the two schools of thought still existed independently in the author’s time, the dialogues may represent an entirely imaginary confrontation between their worldviews, or it may be that Uriel’s “instruction” of Ezra reflects an actual attempt by eschatologically-oriented sages to “convert” disillusioned tradents of covenantal wisdom. In either case, the purpose of the dialogues would be to demonstrate to both groups the incompatibility of their beliefs and the unlikelihood of a satisfactory compromise between them. Alternatively, if an attempted synthesis of the two forms of wisdom had already taken place before the author’s time, the dialogues may represent the author’s attempt to lend clarity to a confused discussion within a single group of sages. The dialogues would then be intended to demonstrate to the sages the source of many of their disagreements: the conflicting assumptions of two schools of thought that had evolved separately in the Second Temple period. In any case, the author apparently did not believe that the problems raised in the dialogues could be resolved through any amount of rational discussion. The author’s solution to the unanswered questions of the dialogues is to be found in the visions and the narrative of Ezra’s transformation in the fourth, fifth and sixth episodes. The apocalyptic visions bring about Ezra’s conversion, or consolation in the ancient sense of the word, by enabling him to put out of his mind the problems that were troubling him in the dialogues. They shift Ezra’s focus from the human predicament, and in particular the current predicament of Israel, to divine sovereignty over history (13:57–58). The “solution” presented by the visions is not an intellectual solution to the problems

the epilogue and the context and purpose of 4 ezra

229

raised in the dialogues, but an illustration of the power of mythic symbolism to restore faith.64 The assumption, shared by many scholars, that 4 Ezra was intended primarily as a work of consolation derives from the fact that Ezra himself moves from despair to hope and finally to rejoicing in the course of the second half of the book. It would be counterintuitive to suggest that the author did not hope that the visions would be consoling to the wise, in the sense of restoring their faith in divine sovereignty. They are not intended to be comforting in the same way that Ezra’s speech to the people in the epilogue is comforting, however. That speech reassures the people that what they already believe is true and sufficient. The visions, by contrast, complete the instruction of the wise by proposing an alternative to the two wisdom theologies that were held up to scrutiny in the dialogues. In the first place, the path of Ezra’s journey from doubt to faith is instructive, particularly for sages. In order for Ezra’s conversion to begin, he must first be reduced to a complete aporia by the dialogues (as illustrated in his fourth lament) and then witness something that he is “unable to explain” (10:32). For him as a sage, the recognition of the failure of his understanding is comparable to death (10:30, 34; cf. 4:12). From Ezra’s perspective, the “death” of his understanding coincides with the transition from dialogue to visionary revelation, although it soon becomes clear that his conversation with the mourning woman was part of his first visionary experience. He is not able to recognize divine revelation until, confronted with something that does not admit of a rational explanation (the woman’s metamorphosis into a city), he appeals to Uriel for “an explanation of this bewildering vision” (10:37). The lesson that the wise can draw from Ezra’s experience is that in order to begin to recover their faith in God’s justice and sovereignty, they must first stop trying to explain the “way of the Most High” through rational arguments. Uriel is right that Ezra’s striving “to understand the way of the Most High and to search out some part of his judgment” is in vain (5:34–35), but his own wisdom instructions exemplify the human tendency to rationalize what we cannot understand. The author believed that the path to consolation is not through

64

Collins, Apocalyptic Imagination, 211.

230

chapter five

the theodicy of either covenantal or eschatological wisdom, or some combination of both. It is through the acceptance of divine revelation, which is only possible for those who have recognized the limits of human reason. The wise may come to this recognition through dialogue, but dialogue by itself is not sufficient to restore faith. Revelation may not come in the form of a direct visionary experience like Ezra’s, but it is available to the wise, the author believed, through apocalyptic literature, represented by the seventy secret books. At the same time, the content of the visions in the fourth, fifth and sixth episodes exemplifies the kind of instruction that the wise need (cf. 12:37–38). The visions reflect an apocalyptic theology, most similar to that of the book of Daniel among the apocalyptic writings. The underlying message of the three visions is that the salvation of Israel and restoration of Zion are part of the divine plan for the end of days, and are completely dependent on divine initiative and not on human effort. The eschatological city is in fact the heavenly Zion revealed on earth, and the Messiah is no human king but a pre-existent, supernatural agent of the Most High. Thus a secondary purpose of the visions may be to foster political quietism among the wise, even though they were written in a more peaceful time than the visions of Daniel 7–12, which take a similar quietist stance in the heat of the Maccabean revolt.65 In contrast to Daniel 7–12, there is no indication that the content of the visions is to be communicated to the common people by the wise. As argued above, the divine instructions in 12:37–38 and 14:13, combined with Ezra’s silence about the content of the visions in his speech to the people in the epilogue (14:28–36), strongly suggest that the esotericism of 4 Ezra is genuine. It may be that the author feared that a popular misunderstanding of the visions could lead to another unsuccessful and devastating revolt against Rome. From another point of view, the theology of the visions is a response to the inadequacies of the two forms of wisdom represented in the dialogues. The visions address Ezra’s concerns about the fate of Israel and Zion, but like Uriel’s instructions, they also justify God by revealing the divine plan for the last days. They “correct” Ezra by shifting his focus to the eschatological future from the present and past, but they

65 On the function of Daniel 7–12 in the context of the persecution by Antiochus IV Epiphanes and the Maccabean revolt, see John J. Collins, Daniel: A Commentary on the Book of Daniel (Hermeneia; Minneapolis: Fortress, 1993), 60–69.

the epilogue and the context and purpose of 4 ezra

231

also “correct” Uriel by balancing his emphasis on the final judgment with an emphasis on the messianic era, especially the overthrow of Israel’s enemies that marks its beginning. The author avoids an actual contradiction between Uriel’s eschatology and that of the visions, by mentioning the temporary messianic era in passing (7:26–29) in the context of Uriel’s most detailed account of the eschatological events in the dialogues, most of which is devoted to a description of the final judgment (7:33–43). Thus, although the author made an attempt to integrate the eschatology of the dialogues with that of the visions, the visions do not merely reinforce the instruction of Ezra by Uriel in the dialogues. They complete it, and by extension complete the instruction of the wise, by offering a constructive counterpart to the essentially negative outcome of the dialogues. Although the theology of the visions is in some respects a compromise between the worldviews of covenantal and eschatological wisdom, it does not constitute a logical synthesis of the two wisdom theologies. Moreover, the visions undeniably fail to provide intellectually satisfying answers to some of the questions raised in the dialogues. To look to the visions for the sort of answers Ezra is seeking in the dialogues, however, is to miss the point of the shift from the dialogue form to visionary revelation in the middle of the book. The author of 4 Ezra recognized that traditional religious symbolism is more powerful than any rational argument for the purpose of restoring faith in God and hope of salvation. He saw that sometimes even the wise need to believe and to hope more than they need to understand. 3. Conclusion Since the preceding discussion of the author’s social location, intended audience and purpose in writing 4 Ezra is admittedly somewhat speculative, these concluding remarks will return to the question of how the book has been and may be understood by contemporary readers. I would like to suggest that 4 Ezra lends itself to the sort of theological analysis to which I have subjected it—and that far greater theological minds have turned their attention to it—precisely because it is a profoundly theological book. By “theological” I mean that it engages in critical reflection on received ideas about God. More than most texts of early Judaism, 4 Ezra adopts a critical stance toward the tradition on which it builds, refusing to harmonize conflicting tendencies within

232

chapter five

the tradition and daring to raise questions for which the tradition has no satisfactory answers. More positively, 4 Ezra offers an ancient precedent for a new model of “Old Testament Theology” that recognizes a plurality of theologies in the Hebrew Bible and attempts to bring them into dialogue with one another.66 To be sure, the “dialogical” approach to the theologies of the Hebrew Bible is influenced by the concerns and theories of postmodernity, especially those of Mikhail Bakhtin,67 but 4 Ezra is a comparable pre-modern response to the undeniable theological diversity of the Hebrew Bible. In my analysis of the theological content of the dialogues of 4 Ezra, I have built upon the work of Brandenburger, Harnisch and Longenecker. In contrast to the work of those scholars, the present study draws out the sapiential background of both of the theologies represented in the dialogues. The debate between Ezra and Uriel in the dialogues is explained as a reflection of the conflicting assumptions of the covenantal and eschatological forms of wisdom, respectively. Whereas the aforementioned authors identify the author’s point of view with that of Uriel, and offer differing explanations for the inconclusive nature of the dialogues, I argue that neither point of view prevails in the dialogues because both of them represent partial truths. For a contemporary reader, the expectation that in an apocalypse, an angel’s voice will be authoritative is offset by the sometimes overwhelming force of Ezra’s rhetoric and his appeals to Scripture. Nevertheless, Uriel’s didactic tone and the shift in each dialogue from dispute to prediction create the impression that Uriel has an advantage over Ezra in that he has access to heavenly secrets which Ezra, by virtue of his human limitations, must depend upon Uriel to reveal to him. Moreover, Uriel’s eschatological wisdom has little or no place for the concepts of Israel’s election or the covenant, so his view of the world has not been shaken by the Destruction, which calls the meaning of Israel’s election and the promises of the covenant into

66 See, for example, Erhard S. Gerstenberger, Theologies in the Old Testament (trans. John Bowden; Minneapolis: Fortress, 2002); Walter Brueggemann, Theology of the Old Testament: Testimony, Dispute, Advocacy (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1997). 67 The bibliography on Bakhtin and the Bible is by now extensive; see Barbara Green, “Bakhtin and the Bible: A Select Bibliography,” PRSt 32 (2005): 339–45. Two articles that were especially influential on my own thinking about biblical theology are Carol A. Newsom, “Bakhtin, the Bible and Dialogic Truth,” JR 76 (1996): 290–306 and L. Julianna M. Claassens, “Biblical Theology as Dialogue: Continuing the Conversation on Mikhail Bakhtin and Biblical Theology,” JBL 122 (2003): 127–44.

the epilogue and the context and purpose of 4 ezra

233

question. Although the Torah is paramount in Uriel’s theology, it is a highly abstract, universal Torah, divorced from God’s covenant with Israel. Uriel’s eschatological wisdom is addressed to individuals and is primarily focused on their fate in the final judgment, although it also deals with more immediate concerns such as what happens to the human soul after death and how one may recognize the approach of the end times. In Chapter II, I argue that a precedent for Uriel’s form of wisdom can be found in the lengthy sapiential work from Qumran, 4QInstruction, which is more similar in worldview to parts of 1 Enoch (especially the introduction to the Book of the Watchers and the Epistle) than to Sirach, despite its sapiential form. Although 4QInstruction, like Sirach and the earlier biblical wisdom literature, appeals to reason and observation in its admonitions, it also appeals to an esoteric revealed wisdom (the raz nihyeh), which transcends human understanding and concerns the divine plan for the end time. Uriel’s mode of instruction draws attention to this tension within eschatological wisdom by asking Ezra to draw conclusions about eschatological matters from analogies to natural phenomena and at the same time insisting on the radical difference between this world and the world to come. The most striking parallel between 4QInstruction and Uriel’s speeches in the dialogues is the relentless focus on the final judgment, which is presented as a universal judgment of individuals on a moral basis. The theological assumptions behind Ezra’s questions and complaints in the dialogues are illuminated by the analysis in Chapter II of Sirach and the wisdom poem of Baruch, two early examples of covenantal wisdom. The foundation of covenantal wisdom is the identification of the transcendent wisdom celebrated in Proverbs 8 and Job 28 with the Torah given to Israel in the Sinai covenant, an identification facilitated by the affinities between Israelite wisdom and the book of Deuteronomy. That equation can lead to a universalizing of the Torah, such that Ben Sira can speak about the giving of the “law of life” in the context of creation, equating it with the “knowledge” of right and wrong that God gives every human being (Sir 17:11–14; cf. 15:14–17). Conversely, the same identification implies that wisdom is to be found either preeminently (Sirach, especially in the Praise of the Fathers) or exclusively (Baruch) in Israel. Thus there is an inherent tension between universalism and particularism in covenantal wisdom, which can be sustained only so long as Israel’s position in the world is not too much at variance with the presumption of its superior wisdom. Already in Baruch,

234

chapter five

which may have been written during the persecution of Antiochus IV Epiphanes, the universalism of Sirach has been abandoned in favor of a stark contrast between Israel and other nations. Ezra’s laments in the dialogues draw attention to the difficulty of maintaining both the universal and particular aspects of covenantal wisdom, especially when Israel’s status in God’s eyes has been called into question by Israel’s defeat by the Romans in 70 c.e. After establishing the affinities of Ezra’s and Uriel’s theologies with the two forms of wisdom discussed in Chapter II, the analysis of the dialogues in Chapter III focuses on five theological topics on which Ezra and Uriel differ: 1) anthropology and moral responsibility (the cause and consequences of Adam’s sin); 2) epistemology (the goal and limits of human knowledge); 3) election, covenant and salvation (the identity of God’s chosen people); 4) the significance of the Torah (its relationship to wisdom and salvation); and 5) divine justice and mercy (in the present world and in the final judgment). The dialogues are inconclusive in the sense that Ezra and Uriel do not come to an agreement on any of these issues (although they agree verbally on the limits of human knowledge), but sometimes the position of one or the other emerges as the more persuasive. For example, Ezra’s statements on the cause and consequences of Adam’s sin are both self-contradictory and overly pessimistic, leading to the conclusion that no one can be saved; while Uriel’s perspective is consistent and logical: although human beings are created with an evil inclination, they are also given the capacity to overcome it through Torah-obedience and thus to save themselves in the final judgment. On the other hand, appeals to Scripture sometimes trump logic in this sort of debate, and Ezra holds his own against Uriel’s disregard for the covenant, by bringing Scripture to bear on the relationship of Torah to election (5:23–30) and divine mercy toward Israel (7:132–40). Even though Uriel claims a higher authority than Scripture, speaking at times in the persona of the Most High, he ends by backing down from his most extreme position, that divine mercy has nothing to do with salvation in the final judgment (9:20–22). Since this is the issue on which Ezra waxes most eloquent (8:4–36) and summons the most evidence from Scripture, I have argued that Ezra’s view of divine mercy is meant to be more persuasive than that of Uriel. Nevertheless, the general tendency of the dialogues is to undermine Ezra’s already shaky belief in covenantal wisdom by exposing its internal inconsistencies. At the same time, the rather obvious contradiction

the epilogue and the context and purpose of 4 ezra

235

between Uriel’s arguments from nature and his discourses on the “signs” of the end, which entail reversals of the natural order, point to an unresolved tension within eschatological wisdom. Ezra’s fourth lament exposes that tension by parodying Uriel’s analogical arguments and showing that Uriel’s view of the Torah is inconsistent with everyday experience. Both the dialogues and the fourth lament point to the impossibility of a logical synthesis of covenantal and eschatological wisdom, by drawing attention to their incompatible assumptions. The reader reaches the end of the dialogues feeling frustrated because many of the issues debated have not been satisfactorily resolved, and depending on the extent to which the reader identifies with Ezra, he or she may also be despairing of the possibility of a satisfying theodicy. The transition in the fourth episode from dialogue to revelation through symbolic visions signals the author’s recognition that many of the questions debated by sages do not admit of rational solutions. In Chapter IV, I find Stone’s psychological approach (following Gunkel) most helpful when it comes to explaining the visions in the fourth, fifth and sixth episodes, and especially the frame narrative that surrounds them. The success of the visions in consoling Ezra must be attributed to the power of the religious symbols that they employ, which respond to his primary concern, the fate of Israel in this world. The visions depict the downfall of Israel’s enemies and the onset of the messianic era, which includes the revelation of the heavenly Zion on earth. Without directly contradicting Uriel’s eschatology in the dialogues, the nationalistic eschatology of the visions balances Uriel’s emphasis on individual salvation in the final judgment. On an intellectual level, the apocalyptic theology of the visions may not be any more satisfying to contemporary readers than the two wisdom theologies that the author apparently rejected. The visions operate on an emotional and spiritual level, however, by shifting Ezra’s focus from human weakness (sinfulness and mortality) to divine sovereignty. Their purpose relative to the intended audience is not directly to answer the questions raised in the dialogues, but rather to restore faith and hope that had been lost as a result of the Destruction. Even for contemporary readers, the visions offer a kind of satisfaction by drawing together a variety of biblical imagery to create a composite picture of Israel’s salvation from their enemies. The most difficult part of the book for contemporary readers to relate to is surely the epilogue. There the author draws a clear distinction between the (proto-) canonical Scriptures (the twenty-four

236

chapter five

books), which “the worthy and the unworthy” may read (14:45), and the additional revelations (the seventy books) that are to be restricted to “the wise” (14:46–47). The divine command to Ezra to “instruct those who are wise” (14:13), as well as the command Ezra receives regarding the transmission of his visions in 12:37–38, leave little doubt that “the wise” are the intended audience of 4 Ezra, and that the book is intended primarily for their instruction. Although Ezra is also told to “comfort the lowly” (14:13), it is not clear whether that is meant to be a secondary function of the book, since Ezra’s speeches to the people in 12:46–49 and 14:28–36 reveal almost nothing of what he has learned in the dialogues or visions. The esotericism of the epilogue can make a contemporary reader feel slightly guilty, like an eavesdropper, or indignant, like someone deliberately excluded from a whispered conversation. Thus the final episode, which was probably intended to bridge the gap between the scribe Ezra and the book’s intended audience, ironically creates a chasm between the intended audience and the contemporary reader. Yet the book as a whole remains somehow relevant, even compelling, to people of faith today. The questions that Ezra and Uriel debate in the dialogues are perennial questions, and the fact that the book leaves them essentially unanswered gives it an intellectual integrity that contemporary readers can admire. The book’s dialogical and critical engagement with conflicting biblical and post-biblical theologies is appealing to a postmodern audience. While the epilogue has the potential to alienate contemporary readers, it also challenges them to think about the relationship between divine revelation and sacred texts inscribed by human beings, and about the advantages and disadvantages of a restricted canon. Most compelling of all is the message conveyed by the structure of the book: that in times of crisis the wisest course may be to abandon the search for intellectual understanding and to embrace the consolation that religious symbols can offer.

BIBLIOGRAPHY Aitken, James K. “Apocalyptic, Revelation and Early Jewish Wisdom Literature.” Pages 181–93 in New Heaven and New Earth: Prophecy and the Millenium. Edited by P. J. Harland and C. T. R. Hayward. Leiden: Brill, 1999. Alon, Gedaliah. The Jews in Their Land in the Talmudic Age. 2 vols. Translated by Gershon Levi. Jerusalem: Magnes, 1980. Alonso Schökel, Luis. “The Vision of Man in Sirach 16:24–17:14.” Pages 235–45 in Israelite Wisdom: Theological and Literary Essays in Honor of Samuel Terrien. Edited by John G. Gammie et al. Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press for Union Theological Seminary, 1978. Anderson, Gary A. and Michael E. Stone. A Synopsis of the Books of Adam and Eve. 2nd ed. SBLEJL 17. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1999. Argall, Randal A. 1 Enoch and Sirach: A Comparative Literary and Conceptual Analysis of the Themes of Revelation, Creation and Judgment. SBLEJL 8. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1995. Bakhtin, Mikhail. The Dialogic Imagination: Four Essays. Edited by M. Holquist, translated by C. Emerson and M. Holquist. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1981. ——. Problems of Dostoevsky’s Poetics. Edited and translated by C. Emerson. Theory and History of Literature 8. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1984. Beale, Gregory K. The Use of Daniel in Jewish Apocalyptic Literature and the Revelation of St. John. Lanham, Md.: University Press of America, 1984. Bedenbender, Andreas. Der Gott der Welt tritt auf den Sinai: Entstehung, Entwicklung und Funktionsweise der frühjüdischen Apokalyptik. Arbeiten zur neutestamentlichen Theologie und Zeitgeschichte 8. Berlin: Institut Kirche und Judentum, 2000. Begg, Christopher T. “Daniel and Josephus: Tracing Connections.” Pages 539–45 in The Book of Daniel in Light of New Findings. Edited by A. S. van der Woude. Leuven: Leuven University Press, 1993. Betz, Hans Dieter. “On the Problem of the Religio-Historical Understanding of Apocalypticism.” JTC 6 (1969): 146–54. Beyerle, Stefan. “‘Du bist kein Richter über dem Herrn’: Zur Konzeption von Gesetz und Gericht im 4. Esrabuch.” Pages 315–37 in Recht und Ethos im Alten Testament: Gestalt und Wirkung: Festschrift für Horst Seebass zum 65. Geburtstag. Edited by Stefan Beyerle, Gunter Mayer and Hans Strauss. Neukirchen: Neukirchener Verlag, 1999. ——. Die Gottesvorstellungen in der antik-jüdischen Apokalyptik. JSJSup 103. Leiden: Brill, 2005. Bidawid, R. J., ed. “4 Esdras.” Pages 1–47 in part 4, fasc. 3 of The Old Testament in Syriac According to the Peshitta Version. Leiden: Brill, 1973. Bockmuehl, Markus. “Natural Law in Second Temple Judaism.” VT 45 (1995): 17–44. Bogaert, Pierre. Apocalypse de Baruch: Introduction, traduction du syriaque et commentaire. 2 vols. SC 144–145. Paris: Cerf, 1969. Box, G. H. The Ezra-Apocalypse. London: Pitman and Sons, 1912. ——. “IV Ezra.” Pages 542–624 in vol. 2 of Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha of the Old Testament. Edited by R. H. Charles. Oxford: Clarendon, 1913. Boyarin, Daniel. “Penitential Liturgy in 4 Ezra.” JSJ 3 (1972): 30–34. Brandenburger, Egon. Adam und Christus: Exegetisch-religionsgeschichtliche Untersuchung zu Röm 5:12–21 (I Kor 15). WMANT 7. Neukirchen: Neukirchener Verlag, 1962. ——. Die Verborgenheit Gottes im Weltgeschehen: Das literarische und theologische Problem des 4. Esrabuches. ATANT 68. Zürich: Theologischer Verlag, 1981.

238

bibliography

Breech, Earl. “These Fragments Have I Shored Against my Ruins: The Form and Function of 4 Ezra.” JBL 92 (1973): 267–74. Brekelmans, C. “Wisdom Influence in Deuteronomy.” Pages 123–34 in A Song of Power and the Power of Song: Essays on the Book of Deuteronomy. Edited by Duane L. Christensen. Sources for Biblical and Theological Study 3. Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1993. Repr. from La Sagesse de l’Ancien Testament. Edited by Maurice Gilbert. BETL 51. Louvain: Louvain University Press, 1978. Brettler, Marc Z. “A ‘Literary Sermon’ in Deuteronomy 4.” Pages 33–50 in ‘A Wise and Discerning Mind’: Essays in Honor of Burke O. Long. Edited by Saul M. Olyan and Robert C. Culley. BJS 325. Providence: Brown University Press, 2000. Brueggemann, Walter. Theology of the Old Testament: Testimony, Dispute, Advocacy. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1997. Burke, David G. The Poetry of Baruch: A Reconstruction and Analysis of the Original Hebrew Text of Baruch 3:9–5:9. SBLSCS 10. Chico, Calif.: Society of Biblical Literature, 1982. Burkes, Shannon. Death in Qoheleth and Egyptian Biographies of the Late Period. SBLDS 170. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 1999. ——. God, Self and Death: The Shape of Religious Transformation in the Second Temple Period. JSJSup 79. Leiden: Brill, 2003. ——. “ ‘Life’ Redefined: Wisdom and Law in Fourth Ezra and Second Baruch.” CBQ 63 (2001): 55–71. ——. “Wisdom and Apocalypticism in the Wisdom of Solomon.” HTR 95 (2002): 21–44. ——. “Wisdom and Law: Choosing Life in Ben Sira and Baruch.” JSJ 30 (1999): 253–76. Burkett, Delbert R. The Son of Man Debate: A History and Evaluation. SNTSMS 107. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999. Camp, Claudia. “Understanding a Patriarchy: Women in Second Century Jerusalem Through the Eyes of Ben Sira.” Pages 1–39 in ‘Women Like This’: New Perspectives on Jewish Women in the Greco-Roman World. Edited by Amy-Jill Levine. SBLEJL 1. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1991. Carr, David M. Writing on the Tablet of the Heart: Origins of Scripture and Literature. New York: Oxford University Press, 2005. Casey, Maurice. Son of Man: The Interpretation and Influence of Daniel 7. London: SPCK, 1979. Charlesworth, James H., ed. The Old Testament Pseudepigrapha. 2 vols. New York: Doubleday, 1983–1985. ——. “The Triumphant Majority as Seen by a Dwindled Minority: The Outsider According to the Insider of the Jewish Apocalypses, 70–130.” Pages 285–315 in To See Ourselves as Others See Us: Christians, Jews and ‘Others’ in Late Antiquity. Edited by Jacob Neusner and Ernest S. Freirichs. Chico, Calif.: Scholars Press, 1985. Chazon, Esther G. “The Creation and Fall of Adam in the Dead Sea Scrolls.” Pages 13–23 in The Book of Genesis in Jewish and Christian Interpretation: A Collection of Essays. Edited by J. Frishman and L. Van Rompay. Traditio Exegetica Graeca 5. Leuven: Peeters, 1997. Claassens, L. Julianna M. “Biblical Theology as Dialogue: Continuing the Conversation on Mikhail Bakhtin and Biblical Theology.” JBL 122 (2003): 127–44. Clifford, Richard J. “The Roots of Apocalypticism in Near Eastern Myth.” Pages 3–38 in The Origins of Apocalypticism in Judaism and Christianity. Edited by John J. Collins. Vol. 1 of The Encyclopedia of Apocalypticism. New York: Continuum, 1998. Coggins, R. J. and Michael A. Knibb. The First and Second Books of Esdras. Commentary on 1 Esdras by Coggins; commentary on 2 Esdras by Knibb. CBC. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1979. Cohen, Gerson. “Esau as Symbol in Early Medieval Thought.” Pages 19–48 in Jewish Medieval and Renaissance Studies. Edited by A. Altmann. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1967.

bibliography

239

Cohen, Shaye J. D. “The Destruction: From Scripture to Midrash.” Proof 2 (1982): 18–39. ——. “The Significance of Yavneh: Pharisees, Rabbis, and the End of Jewish Sectarianism.” HUCA 55 (1984): 27–53. Collins, Adela Yarbro. “The Dream of a New Jerusalem at Qumran.” Pages 231–54 in The Bible and the Dead Sea Scrolls, Vol. 3: The Scrolls and Christian Origins. Edited by J. H. Charlesworth. Second Princeton Symposium on Judaism and Christian Origins. Waco, Tex.: Baylor University, 2006. Collins, John J. The Apocalyptic Imagination: An Introduction to Jewish Apocalyptic Literature. 2nd ed. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1998. ——. The Apocalyptic Imagination: An Introduction to the Jewish Matrix of Christianity. New York: Crossroad, 1984. ——. “The Background of the ‘Son of God’ Text.” BBR 7 (1997): 51–62. ——. “Cosmos and Salvation: Jewish Wisdom and Apocalyptic in the Hellenistic Age.” HR 17 (1977): 121–42. Repr. pages 317–38 in Seers, Sibyls, and Sages in HellenisticRoman Judaism. JSJSup 54. Leiden: Brill, 1997. ——. Daniel: A Commentary on the Book of Daniel. Hermeneia. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1993. ——. “The Eschatologizing of Wisdom in the Dead Sea Scrolls.” Pages 49–65 in Sapiential Perspectives: Wisdom Literature in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls. Edited by J. J. Collins, G. E. Sterling and R. A. Clements. STDJ 51. Leiden: Brill, 2004. ——. “In the Likeness of the Holy Ones: The Creation of Humankind in a Wisdom Text from Qumran.” Pages 609–18 in The Provo International Conference on the Dead Sea Scrolls: Technological Innovations, New Texts and Reformulated Issues. Edited by Donald W. Parry and Eugene Ulrich. Leiden: Brill, 1999. ——. “Jesus and the Messiahs of Israel.” Pages 287–302 in vol. 1 of Geschichte — Tradition—Reflexion: Festschrift für Martin Hengel zum 70. Geburtstag. 3 vols. Edited by H. Cancik, H. Lichtenberger and P. Schäfer. Tübingen: Mohr/Siebeck, 1996. ——. Jewish Wisdom in the Hellenistic Age. OTL. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1997. ——. The Scepter and the Star: The Messiahs of the Dead Sea Scrolls and Other Ancient Literature. ABRL. New York: Doubleday, 1995. ——. “The Son of Man in First-Century Judaism.” NTS 38 (1992): 448–66. ——. “Wisdom, Apocalypticism and the Dead Sea Scrolls.” Pages 19–32 in Jedes Ding hat seine Zeit: Studien zur israelitischen und alttestamentlichen Weisheit. Edited by Anja A. Diesel et al. BZAW 241. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1996. Repr. pages 369–85 in Seers, Sibyls, and Sages in Hellenistic-Roman Judaism. JSJSup 54. Leiden: Brill, 1997. ——. “Wisdom, Apocalypticism and Generic Compatibility.” Pages 165–85 in In Search of Wisdom: Essays in Memory of John G. Gammie. Edited by Leo G. Perdue, Bernard B. Scott and William J. Wiseman. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1993. Repr. pages 385–408 in Seers, Sibyls, and Sages in Hellenistic-Roman Judaism. JSJSup 54. Leiden: Brill, 1997. ——. “Wisdom Reconsidered, in Light of the Scrolls.” DSD 4 (1997): 265–81. ——, ed. Apocalypse: The Morphology of a Genre. Semeia 14. Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press, 1979. ——, G. E. Sterling and R. A. Clements, eds. Sapiential Perspectives: Wisdom Literature in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls. STDJ 51. Leiden: Brill, 2004. Conzelmann, Hans. “The Mother of Wisdom.” Pages 230–43 in The Future of Our Religious Past: Essays in Honour of Rudolf Bultman. Edited by J. M. Robinson, translated by C. E. Carlston and R. P. Scharlemann. London: SCM, 1971. Cook, E. M. “4Q246.” BBR 5 (1995): 43–66. Cook, Joan E. “Creation in 4 Ezra: The Biblical Theme in Support of Theodicy.” Pages 129–39 in Creation in the Biblical Tradition. Edited by Richard J. Clifford and John J. Collins. CBQMS 24. Washington, D.C.: The Catholic Biblical Association of America, 1992.

240

bibliography

——. “Ezra’s Confession: Appeal to a Merciful God.” JSP 3 (1988): 89–100. Crenshaw, James L. “The Concept of God in Old Testament Wisdom.” Pages 1–18 in In Search of Wisdom: Essays in Memory of John G. Gammie. Edited by Leo G. Perdue, Bernard B. Scott and William J. Wiseman. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1993. ——. Defending God: Biblical Responses to the Problem of Evil. New York: Oxford University Press, 2005. ——. Education in Ancient Israel: Across the Deadening Silence. ABRL. New York: Doubleday, 1998. ——. “Method in Determining Wisdom Influence upon ‘Historical’ Literature.” JBL 88 (1969): 129–42. ——. Old Testament Wisdom: An Introduction. Revised ed. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1998. ——. “The Problem of Theodicy in Sirach: On Human Bondage.” JBL 94 (1975): 47–64. ——, ed. Studies in Ancient Israelite Wisdom. Library of Biblical Studies. New York: Ktav, 1976. Daschke, Dereck M. “Loss, Fantasy and Recovery in Ancient Judaism: Ezekiel, 4 Ezra and the Baruch Apocalypses as Texts of Mourning.” Ph.D. diss., University of Chicago, 2000. Davies, Philip R. “The Social World of Apocalyptic Writings.” Pages 251–71 in The World of Ancient Israel: Sociological, Anthropological and Political Perspectives. Edited by R. E. Clements. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989. Demsky, A. “Education.” Pages 382–98 in vol. 6 of Encyclopedia Judaica. Edited by Cecil Roth et al. 16 vols. Jerusalem: Keter; New York: Macmillan, 1972. Desjardins, Michel. “Law in 2 Baruch and 4 Ezra.” SR 14 (1985): 25–37. Di Tommaso, Lorenzo. “Dating the Eagle Vision of 4 Ezra: A New Look at an Old Theory.” JSP 20 (1999): 3–38. Elgvin, Torleif. “An Analysis of 4QInstruction.” Ph.D. diss., Hebrew University of Jerusalem, 1997. ——. “Early Essene Eschatology: Judgment and Salvation according to Sapiential Work A.” Pages 126–65 in Current Research and Technological Development on the Dead Sea Scrolls: Conference on the Texts from the Judean Desert, Jerusalem, 30 April 1995. Edited by D. W. Parry and S. D. Ricks. STDJ 20. Leiden: Brill, 1996. ——. “The Eschatological Hope of 4QTime of Righteousness.” Pages 89–102 in Wisdom and Apocalypticism in the Dead Sea Scrolls and in the Biblical Tradition. Edited by F. García Martínez. BETL 168. Leuven: Leuven University Press, 2002. ——. “The Mystery to Come: Early Essene Theology of Revelation.” Pages 113–50 in Qumran between the Old and New Testaments. Edited by Frederick H. Cryer and Thomas L. Thompson. JSOTSup 290. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1998. ——. “The Reconstruction of Sapiential Work A.” RevQ 16 (1995): 559–80. ——. “Wisdom and Apocalypticism in the Early Second Century B.C.E.: The Evidence of 4QInstruction.” Pages 226–47 in The Dead Sea Scrolls Fifty Years After Their Discovery. Edited by L. H. Schiffman, E. Tov and J. C. VanderKam. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 2000. Esler, Philip F. “The Social Function of 4 Ezra.” JSNT 53 (1994): 99–123. Falk, D. K., F. García Martínez and E. Schuller, eds. Sapiential, Liturgical and Poetical Texts from Qumran. STDJ 35. Leiden: Brill, 2000. Ferch, Arthur J. “The Two Eons and the Messiah in Pseudo-Philo, 4 Ezra and 2 Baruch.” AUSS 15 (1977): 135–52. Fishbane, Michael. Biblical Interpretation in Ancient Israel. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1985. ——. “From Scribalism to Rabbinism: Perspectives on the Emergence of Classical Judaism.” Pages 439–56 in The Sage in Israel and the Ancient Near East. Edited by John G. Gammie and Leo G. Perdue. Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1990.

bibliography

241

Fitzmyer, Joseph. “4Q246: The ‘Son of God’ Document from Qumran.” Bib 74 (1993): 153–74. ——. “The Aramaic ‘Son of God’ Text from Qumran Cave 4 (4Q246).” Pages 41–61 in The Dead Sea Scrolls and Christian Origins. Studies in the Dead Sea Scrolls and Related Literature. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2000. ——. The One Who is to Come. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2007. ——. A Wandering Aramean: Collected Aramaic Essays. SBLMS 25. Chico, Calif.: Scholars Press, 1979. Flannery-Dailey, Frances. Dreamers, Scribes and Priests: Jewish Dreams in the Hellenistic and Roman Eras. JSJSup 90. Leiden: Brill, 2004. Fletcher-Louis, Crispin H. T. All the Glory of Adam: Liturgical Anthropology in the Dead Sea Scrolls. STDJ 42. Leiden: Brill, 2002. Flusser, David. “The Hubris of the Antichrist in a Fragment from Qumran.” Imm 10 (1980): 31–37. Fraade, Steven D. From Tradition to Commentary: Torah and Its Interpretation in the Midrash Sifre to Deuteronomy. Albany: State University of New York Press, 1991. Frey, Jörg. “Flesh and Spirit in the Palestinian Jewish Sapiential Tradition and in the Qumran Texts: An Inquiry into the Background of Pauline Usage.” Pages 367–404 in The Wisdom Texts from Qumran and the Development of Sapiential Thought. Edited by C. Hempel, A. Lange and H. Lichtenberger. BETL 159. Leuven: Leuven University Press, 2002. Gafni, Isaiah M. “The Historical Background.” Pages 1–34 in vol. 1 of The Literature of the Sages. Edited by Shmuel Safrai. 2 vols. CRINT 2/3a. Assen: Van Gorcum; Philadelphia: Fortress, 1987. Gammie, John G. “From Prudentialism to Apocalypticism: The Houses of the Sages amid the Varying Forms of Wisdom.” Pages 479–97 in The Sage in Israel and the Ancient Near East. Edited by John G. Gammie and Leo G. Perdue. Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1990. ——. “Spatial and Ethical Dualism in Jewish Wisdom and Apocalyptic Literature.” JBL 93 (1974): 356–85. —— and Leo G. Perdue, eds. The Sage in Israel and the Ancient Near East. Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1990. García Martínez, Florentino. The Dead Sea Scrolls Translated. 2nd ed. Translated by Wilfred G. E. Watson. Leiden: Brill; Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1996. ——. “The Eschatological Figure of 4Q246.” Pages 162–79 in Qumran and Apocalyptic: Studies on the Aramaic Texts from Qumran. STDJ 9. Leiden: Brill, 1992. ——. “Man and Woman: Halakhah Based on Eden in the Dead Sea Scrolls.” Pages 95–115 in Paradise Interpreted: Representations of Biblical Paradise in Judaism and Christianity. Edited by G. P. Luttikhuizen. Themes in Biblical Narrative 2. Leiden: Brill, 1999. ——, ed. Wisdom and Apocalypticism in the Dead Sea Scrolls and in the Biblical Tradition. BETL 168. Leuven: Leuven University Press, 2002. ——. “Wisdom at Qumran: Worldly or Heavenly?” Pages 1–15 in Wisdom and Apocalypticism in the Dead Sea Scrolls and in the Biblical Tradition. Edited by F. García Martínez. BETL 168. Leuven: Leuven University Press, 2002. —— and Eibert J. C. Tighchelaar. The Dead Sea Scrolls Study Edition. 2 vols. Leiden: Brill; Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1997–1998. Geller, Stephen A. “Fiery Wisdom: Logos and Lexis in Deuteronomy 4.” Proof 14 (1994): 103–39. Repr. pages 30–61 in Sacred Enigmas: Literary Religion in the Hebrew Bible. London: Routledge, 1996. ——. “Where is Wisdom?” Pages 87–107 in Sacred Enigmas: Literary Religion in the Hebrew Bible. London: Routledge, 1996. Gerö, S. “ ‘My Son the Messiah’: A Note on 4 Ezra 7:28–29.” ZNW 66 (1975): 264–67. Gerstenberger, Erhard S. Theologies in the Old Testament. Translated by John Bowden. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2002.

242

bibliography

Gilbert, Maurice. “L’eloge de la Sagesse (Siracide 24).” RTL 5 (1974): 326–48. Ginzberg, Louis. The Legends of the Jews. Translated by H. Szold. 7 vols. Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1909. Goff, Matthew. “The Mystery of Creation in 4QInstruction.” DSD 10 (2003): 163–86. ——. “Reading Wisdom at Qumran: 4QInstruction and the Hodayot.” DSD 11 (2004): 263–88. ——. “Wisdom, Apocalypticism and the Pedagogical Ethos of 4QInstruction.” Pages 57–67 in Conflicted Boundaries in Wisdom and Apocalypticism. Edited by B. G. Wright III and L. M. Wills. SBLSymS 35. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2005. ——. The Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom of 4QInstruction. STDJ 50. Leiden: Brill, 2003. Goldberg, Abraham. “The Mishna—A Study Book of Halakha.” Pages 211–62 in vol. 1 of The Literature of the Sages. Edited by Shmuel Safrai. 2 vols. CRINT 2/3a. Assen:Van Gorcum; Philadelphia: Fortress, 1987. Gottlieb, Isaac B. “Pirqe Avot and Biblical Wisdom.” VT 40 (1990): 152–64. Grabbe, Lester. “Chronography in 4 Ezra and 2 Baruch.” Pages 49–63 in SBL Seminar Papers, 1981. Edited by Kent H. Richards. SBLSP 20. Chico, Calif.: Scholars Press, 1981. ——. “The Social Setting of Early Jewish Apocalypticism.” JSP 4 (1989): 27–47. Green, Barbara. “Bakhtin and the Bible: A Select Bibliography.” PRSt 32 (2005): 339–45. ——. Mikhail Bakhtin and Biblical Scholarship: An Introduction. SemeiaSt 38. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2000. Gunkel, Hermann. “Das vierte Buch Esra.” Pages 231–402 in vol. 2 of Die Apokryphen und Pseudepigraphen des alten Testaments. Edited by E. Kautzsch. Tübingen: Mohr, 1900. ——. Der Prophet Esra. Tübingen: Mohr, 1900. ——. Review of Das vierte Buch Esra, auf seine Quellen untersucht, by Richard Kabisch. TLZ 16, no. 1 (1891): 5–11. Hamilton, Alastair. The Apocryphal Apocalypse: The Reception of the Second Book of Esdras (4 Ezra) From the Renaissance to the Enlightenment. Oxford-Warburg Studies. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1999. Hammer, Reuven. “A Rabbinic Response to the Post-Bar Kochba Era: The Sifre to Ha’azinu.” PAAJR 52 (1985): 37–53. Hanson, Paul D. “Apocalypse, Genre” and “Apocalypticism.” Pages 27–34 in The Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible: Supplementary Volume. Edited by K. Crim. Nashville: Abingdon, 1976. ——. The Dawn of Apocalyptic: The Historical and Sociological Roots of Jewish Apocalyptic. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1975. Harnisch, Wolfgang. “Der Prophet als Widerpart und Zeuge der Offenbarung: Erwägungen zur Interdependenz von Form und Sache im IV. Buch Esra.” Pages 461–93 in Apocalypticism in the Mediterranean World and the Near East: Proceedings of the International Colloquium on Apocalypticism, Uppsala, August 12–17, 1979. Edited by David Hellholm. Tübingen: Mohr/Siebeck, 1983. ——. “Die Ironie der Offenbarung: Exegetische Erwägungen zur Zionvision im 4. Buch Esra.” Pages 79–104 in SBL Seminar Papers, 1981. Edited by Kent H. Richards. SBLSP 20. Chico, Calif.: Scholars Press, 1981. ——. Verhängnis und Verheißung der Geschichte: Untersuchungen zum Zeit- und Geschichtsverständnis im 4. Buch Esra und in der syr. Baruchapokalypse. FRLANT 97. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1969. Harrelson, Walter. “Ezra among the Wicked in 2 Esdras 3–10.” Pages 21–40 in The Divine Helmsman: Lou H. Silberman Festschrift. Edited by James Crenshaw and Samuel Sandmel. New York: Ktav, 1980. ——. “Wisdom Hidden and Revealed according to Baruch (Baruch 3:9–4:4).” Pages 158–71 in Priests, Prophets and Scribes: Essays on the Formation and Heritage of Second Temple

bibliography

243

Judaism in Honour of Joseph Blenkinsopp. Edited by Eugene Ulrich et al. JSOTSup 149. Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1992. Harrington, Daniel. “Two Early Jewish Approaches to Wisdom: Sirach and Qumran Sapiential Work A.” JSP 16 (1997): 25–38. ——. “Ten Reasons Why the Qumran Wisdom Texts are Important.” DSD 4 (1997): 245–54. ——. “Wisdom and Apocalyptic in 4QInstruction and 4 Ezra.” Pages 343–55 in Wisdom and Apocalypticism in the Dead Sea Scrolls and in the Biblical Tradition. Edited by F. García Martínez. BETL 168. Leuven: Leuven University Press, 2002. ——. Wisdom Texts from Qumran. London: Routledge, 1996. Hartman, Lars. Asking for a Meaning: A Study of 1 Enoch 1–5. ConBNT 12. Lund: Gleerup, 1979. ——. Prophecy Interpreted: The Formation of Some Jewish Apocalyptic Texts and of the Eschatological Discourse Mark 13. ConBNT 1. Lund: Gleerup, 1966. Hayman, A. Peter. “The ‘Man from the Sea’ in 4 Ezra 13.” JJS 49 (1998): 1–16. ——. “The Problem of Pseudonymity in the Ezra Apocalypse.” JSJ 6 (1975): 47–56. Heichelheim, Fritz M., Cedric A. Yeo and Allen M. Ward. A History of the Roman People. 2nd ed. Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1984. Hempel, C., A. Lange and H. Lichtenberger, eds. The Wisdom Texts from Qumran and the Development of Sapiential Thought. BETL 159. Leuven: Leuven University Press, 2002. Hengel, Martin. Judaism and Hellenism: Studies in their Encounter in Palestine During the Early Hellenistic Period. Translated by J. Bowden. 2 vols. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1974. Hermisson, Hans-Jürgen. “Observations on the Creation Theology in Wisdom.” Pages 43–57 in Israelite Wisdom: Theological and Literary Essays in Honor of Samuel Terrein. Edited by John G. Gammie et al. Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press for Union Theological Seminary, 1978. Herms, Ronald. An Apocalypse for the Church and for the World: The Narrative Function of Universal Language in the Book of Revelation. BZNW 143. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2006. Herr, M. D. “Edom.” Pages 379–80 in vol. 6 of Encyclopedia Judaica. Edited by Cecil Roth et al. 16 vols. Jerusalem: Keter; New York: Macmillan, 1972. Hogan, Karina Martin. “The Exegetical Background of the ‘Ambiguity of Death’ in the Wisdom of Solomon.” JSJ 30 (1999): 1–24. ——. “The Meanings of tôrâ in 4 Ezra.” JSJ 38 (2007): 530–52. Holloway, Paul A. Consolation in Philippians: Philosophical Sources and Rhetorical Strategy. SNTSMS 112. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001. Horsley, Richard A. “The Politics of Cultural Production in Second Temple Judea: Historical Context and Political-Religious Relations of the Scribes who Produced 1 Enoch, Sirach and Daniel.” Pages 123–45 in Conflicted Boundaries in Wisdom and Apocalypticism. Edited by B. G. Wright III and L. M. Wills. SBLSymS 35. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2005. Humphrey, Edith McEwan. The Ladies and the Cities: Transformation and Apocalyptic Identity in Joseph and Aseneth, 4 Ezra, the Apocalypse and the Shepherd of Hermas. JSPSup 17. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1995. James, M. R. “Ego Salathiel qui et Esdras.” JTS 18 (1917): 167–69. ——. The Lost Apocrypha of the Old Testament: Their Titles and Fragments. London: SPCK, 1920. ——. “Salathiel qui et Esdras.” JTS 19 (1918): 347–49. James, William. The Varieties of Religious Experience: A Study in Human Nature. Edited with an introduction by Martin E. Marty. New York: Penguin Books, 1982. Japhet, Sara. “Composition and Chronology in the Book of Ezra-Nehemiah.” Pages 245–67 in From the Rivers of Babylon to the Highlands of Judah: Collected Studies on the Restoration Period. Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2006.

244

bibliography

Jeffries, Daryl F. Wisdom at Qumran: A Form-Critical Analysis of the Admonitions of 4QInstruction. Gorgias Dissertations 3. Piscataway, N.J.: Gorgias Press, 2002. Jeremias, Joachim and Walther Zimmerli. “παῖς θεοῦ.” Pages 654–717 in vol. 5 of Theological Dictionary of the New Testament. Edited by Gerhard Friedrich, edited and translated by Geoffrey W. Bromiley. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1967. Jervell, Jacob. Imago Dei: Gen 1:26f im Spätjudentum, in der Gnosis, und in den paulinischen Briefen. FRLANT 58. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck und Ruprecht, 1960. Jonge, Marinus de and Johannes Tromp. The Life of Adam and Eve and Related Literature. Guides to the Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997. Justnes, Årstein. “4Q215A (Time of Righteousness) in Context.” Pages 141–70 in Sapiential Perspectives: Wisdom Literature in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls. Edited by J. J. Collins, G. E. Sterling and R. A. Clements. STDJ 51. Leiden: Brill, 2004. Kabisch, Richard. Das vierte Buch Esra, auf seine Quellen untersucht. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1889. Kahn, Charles H. Plato and the Socratic Dialogue: The Philosophical Use of a Literary Form. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996. Kaiser, Otto. “Die Rezeption der stoischen Providenz bei Ben Sira.” JNSL 24 (1998): 41–54. Kaminka, Armand. Sefer Hazonot ’Asar ben She’alti’el ben Yekhonya melekh Yehudah. Tel Aviv: Devir, 1936. Kampen, John. “The Diverse Aspects of Wisdom in the Qumran Texts.” Pages 211–43 in vol. 1 of The Dead Sea Scrolls After Fifty Years: A Comprehensive Assessment. 2 vols. Edited by Peter W. Flint and James C. VanderKam. Leiden: Brill, 1998. Kee, H. C. “ ‘The Man’ in Fourth Ezra: Growth of a Tradition.” Pages 199–208 in SBL Seminar Papers, 1981. Edited by Kent H. Richards. SBLSP 20. Chico, Calif.: Scholars Press, 1981. Keulers, J. Die eschatologische Lehre des vierten Esrabuches. BibS(F) 20. Freiburg: Herder, 1922. Kierkegaard, Søren. The Concept of Irony, with Constant Reference to Socrates. Translated by Lee M. Capel. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1965. Kim, Seyoon. The ‘Son of Man’ as the Son of God. WUNT 30. Tübingen: Mohr, 1983. Kirschner, Robert. “Apocalyptic and Rabbinic Responses to the Destruction of 70.” HTR 78 (1985): 27–46. Kister, Menahem. “Wisdom Literature and its Relation to Other Genres: From Ben Sira to Mysteries,” Pages 13–47 in Sapiential Perspectives: Wisdom Literature in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls. Edited by J. J. Collins, G. E. Sterling and R. A. Clements. STDJ 51. Leiden: Brill, 2004. Klein, Ralph W. “Ezra-Nehemiah, Books of.” Pages 731–42 in vol. 2 of The Anchor Bible Dictionary. Edited by David Noel Freedman. New York: Doubleday, 1992. Klijn, A. F. J. Der Lateinische Text der Apokalypse des Esra. TUGAL 131. Berlin: AkademieVerlag, 1983. ——. “Textual Criticism of 4 Ezra: State of Affairs and Possibilities.” Pages 217–27 in SBL Seminar Papers, 1981. Edited by Kent H. Richards. SBLSP 20. Chico, Calif.: Scholars Press, 1981. Knibb, Michael A. “Apocalyptic and Wisdom in 4 Ezra.” JSJ 13 (1982): 56–74. ——. “Prophecy and the Emergence of the Jewish Apocalypses.” Pages 155–80 in Israel’s Prophetic Tradition: Essays in Honor of Peter R Ackroyd. Edited by R. J. Coggins, A. Phillips and M. A. Knibb. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1982. Knowles, Michael P. “Moses, the Law and the Unity of 4 Ezra.” NovT 31 (1989): 257–74. Koch, K. “Esras erste Vision: Weltzeiten und Weg des Höchsten.” BZ 22 (1978): 46–75.

bibliography

245

Koester, Helmut. “ΝΟΜΟΣ ΦΥΣΕΩΣ: The Concept of Natural Law in Greek Thought.” Pages 521–41 in Religions in Antiquity: Essays in Memory of Erwin Ramsdell Goodenough. Edited by J. Neusner. SHR 14. Leiden: Brill, 1968. Kolarcik, Michael. The Ambiguity of Death in the Book of Wisdom 1–6. AnBib 127. Rome: Editrice Pontifico Istituto Biblico, 1991. Koskenniemi, Erkki. Der philostrateische Apollonios. Commentationes Humanarum Litterarum 94. Helsinki: Finnish Society of Sciences and Letters, 1991. Kraft, Robert A. “Ezra Materials in Judaism and Christianity.” ANRW 19.1:119–36. Part 2, Principat, 19.1. Edited by H. Temporini and W. Haase. Berlin: de Gruyter, 1979. Kugel, James L. “Some Instances of Biblical Interpretation in the Hymns and Wisdom Writings of Qumran.” Pages 155–69 in Studies in Ancient Midrash. Edited by J. L. Kugel. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Center for Jewish Studies, 2001. Kvanvig, Helge S. Roots of Apocalyptic: The Mesopotamian Background of the Enoch Figure and of the Son of Man. WMANT 61. Neukirchener-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1988. Lacocque, André. “The Vision of the Eagle in 4 Ezra: A Rereading of Daniel 7 in the First Century C.E.” Pages 237–58 in SBL Seminar Papers, 1981. Edited by Kent H. Richards. SBLSP 20. Chico, Calif.: Scholars Press, 1981. Lange, Armin. “The Determination of Fate by the Oracle of the Lot in the Dead Sea Scrolls, the Hebrew Bible and Ancient Mesopotamian Literature.” Pages 39–48 in Sapiential, Liturgical and Poetical Texts from Qumran. Edited by D. K. Falk, F. García Martínez and E. Schuller. STDJ 35. Leiden: Brill, 2000. ——. “In Diskussion mit dem Tempel: zur Auseinandersetzung zwischen Kohelet und weisheitlichen Kreisen am Jerusalemer Tempel.” Pages 113–60 in Qohelet in the Context of Wisdom. Edited by A. Schoors. BETL 136. Leuven: Leuven University Press, 1998. ——. Weisheit und Prädestination: Weisheitliche Urordnung und Prädestination in den Textfunden von Qumran. STDJ 18. Leiden: Brill, 1995. ——. “Wisdom and Predestination in the Dead Sea Scolls.” DSD 2 (1995): 340–54. Lee, Thomas R. Studies in the Form of Sirach 44–50. SBLDS 75. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1986. Lerner, M. B. “The Tractate Avot.” Pages 263–81 in vol. 1 of The Literature of the Sages. Edited by Shmuel Safrai. 2 vols. CRINT 2/3a. Assen: Van Gorcum; Philadelphia: Fortress, 1987. Levinson, Bernard M. Deuteronomy and the Hermeneutics of Legal Innovation. New York: Oxford University Press, 1997. Levison, John R. “Is Eve to Blame? A Contextual Analysis of Sir 25:24.” CBQ 47 (1985): 617–23. ——. Portraits of Adam in Early Judaism From Sirach to 2 Baruch. JSPSup 1. Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1988. Liesen, Jan. “Strategical Self-References in Ben Sira.” Pages 63–74 in Treasures of Wisdom: Studies in Ben Sira and the Book of Wisdom (Festschrift M. Gilbert). Edited by N. CalduchBenages and J. Vermeylen. BETL 143. Leuven: Leuven University Press, 1999. Longenecker, Bruce W. Eschatology and the Covenant: A Comparison of 4 Ezra and Romans 1–11. JSNTSup 57. Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1991. ——. “Locating Fourth Ezra: A Consideration of its Social Setting and Functions.” JSJ 28 (1997): 271–93. ——. Second Esdras. Guides to the Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1995. Mack, Burton L. Wisdom and the Hebrew Epic: Ben Sira’s Hymn in Praise of the Fathers. CSHJ. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1985. Marböck, Johannes. “Gesetz und Weisheit: Zum Verständnis des Gesetzes bei Jesus Ben Sira.” BZ NF 20 (1976): 1–21.

246

bibliography

——. “Stucture and Redaction History of the Book of Ben Sira: Review and Prospects.” Pages 61–79 in The Book of Ben Sira in Modern Research: Proceedings of the First International Ben Sira Conference, 28–31 July 1996, Soesterberg, Netherlands. Edited by P. C. Beentjes. BZAW 255. Berlin: de Gruyter, 1997. ——. Weisheit im Wandel: Untersuchungen zur Weisheitstheologie bei Ben Sira. BBB 37. Bonn: Hanstein, 1971. Reprinted as BZAW 272. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1999. Martin, Dale M. The Corinthian Body. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1995. Mattila, Sharon Lea. “Ben Sira and the Stoics: A Reexamination of the Evidence.” JBL 119 (2000): 473–501. Mayes, A. D. H. “Deuteronomy 4 and the Literary Criticism of Deuteronomy.” Pages 195–224 in A Song of Power and the Power of Song: Essays on the Book of Deuteronomy. Edited by Duane L. Christensen. Sources for Biblical and Theological Study 3. Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1993. Repr. from JBL 100 (1981): 23–51. McConville, J. G. Law and Theology in Deuteronomy. JSOT Sup 33. Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1984. Middendorp, Theophil. Die Stellung Jesu Ben Siras zwischen Judentum und Hellenismus. Leiden: Brill, 1973. Millar, J. Gary. Now Choose Life: Theology and Ethics in Deuteronomy. New Studies in Biblical Theology. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1998. Miller, Patricia Cox. Dreams in Late Antiquity: Studies in the Imagination of a Culture. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994. Miller, Patrick D. “Deuteronomy and Psalms.” Pages 318–36 in Israelite Religion and Biblical Theology: Collected Essays. JSOTSup 267. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2000. ——. “God’s Other Stories: On the Margins of Deuteronomic Theology.” Pages 593–602 in Israelite Religion and Biblical Theology: Collected Essays. JSOTSup 267. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2000. ——. “The Wilderness Journey in Deuteronomy: Style, Structure and Theology in Deuteronomy 1–3.” Pages 572–92 in Israelite Religion and Biblical Theology: Collected Essays. JSOTSup 267. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2000. Montefiore, Claude G. IV Ezra: A Study in the Development of Universalism. Arthur Davis Memorial Lecture. London: Allen & Unwin, 1929. Moore, Carey A. Daniel, Esther and Jeremiah: The Additions. AB 44. Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1977. ——. Tobit: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary. AB 40A. New York: Doubleday, 1996. Morson, Gary S. and Caryl Emerson. Mikhail Bakhtin: The Creation of a Prosaics. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1990. Mueller, James. “Prolegomena to a Study of the Social Function of 4 Ezra.” Pages 259–68 in SBL Seminar Papers, 1981. Edited by Kent H. Richards. SBLSP 20. Chico, Calif.: Scholars Press, 1981. Mulder, Otto. Simon the High Priest in Sirach 50: An Exegetical Study of the Significance of Simon the High Priest as Climax to the Praise of the Fathers in Ben Sira’s Concept of the History of Israel. JSJSup 78. Leiden: Brill, 2003. Müller, Hans-Peter. “Mantische Weisheit und Apokalyptik.” Pages 268–93 in Congress Volume: Uppsala, 1971. VTSup 22. Leiden: Brill, 1972. Müller, Ulrich B. Messias und Menschensohn in jüdischen Apokalypsen und in der Offenbarung Johannes. SNT 6. Gütersloh: Mohn, 1972. Mundle, W. “Das religiöse Problem des IV. Esrabuches.” ZAW NF 6 (1929): 222–49. Murphy, Catherine M. Wealth in the Dead Sea Scrolls and the Qumran Community. STDJ 40. Leiden: Brill, 2002. Murphy, Frederick J. “Sapiential Elements in the Syriac Apocalypse of Baruch.” JQR 76 (1986): 311–27. ——. The Structure and Meaning of Second Baruch. SBLDS 78. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1985.

bibliography

247

Myers, Jacob M. I and II Esdras. AB 42. Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1974. Najman, Hindy. Seconding Sinai: The Development of Mosaic Discourse in Second Temple Judaism. JSJSup 77. Leiden: Brill, 2003. ——. “The Symbolic Significance of Writing in Ancient Judaism.” Pages 139–73 in The Idea of Biblical Interpretation: Essays in Honor of James L. Kugel. Edited by H. Najman and J. H. Newman. JSJSup 83. Leiden: Brill, 2004. ——. “A Written Copy of the Law of Nature: An Unthinkable Paradox?” SPhilo 15 (2003): 54–63. Neubauer, A. “Where Are the Ten Tribes?” JQR 1 (1888–89): 14–28, 95–114, 185–201, 408–23. Neusner, Jacob. “The Formation of Rabbinic Judaism: Yavneh ( Jamnia) from A.D. 70 to 100.” ANRW 19.2:3–42. Part 2, Principat, 19.2. Edited by H. Temporini and W. Haase. Berlin: de Gruyter, 1979. ——. Judaism and Christianity in the Age of Constantine: History, Messiah, Israel and the Initial Confrontation. CSHJ. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1987. ——. “Judaism in a Time of Crisis: Four Responses to the Destruction of the Second Temple.” Judaism 21 (1972): 313–27. ——. Judaism: The Evidence of the Mishnah. 2nd ed. BJS 129. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1988. ——. Transformations in Ancient Judaism: Textual Evidence for Creative Responses to Crisis. Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2004. Newsom, Carol A. “Bakhtin, the Bible and Dialogic Truth.” JR 76 (1996): 290–306. ——. The Book of Job: A Contest of Moral Imaginations. New York: Oxford University Press, 2003. ——. “ ‘Sectually Explicit’ Literature from Qumran.” Pages 167–87 in The Hebrew Bible and its Interpreters. Edited by William H. Propp, Baruch Halpern and David N. Freedman. Biblical and Judaic Studies from the University of California, San Diego 1. Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1990. Nickelsburg, George W. E. 1 Enoch 1: A Commentary on the Book of 1 Enoch, Chapters 1–36, 81–108. Hermeneia. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2001. ——. Jewish Literature Between the Bible and the Mishnah: A Historical and Literary Introduction. 2nd ed. Minneapolis: Fortress, 2005. ——. “Wisdom and Apocalypticism in Early Judaism: Some Points for Discussion.” Pages 715–32 in SBL Seminar Papers, 1994. SBLSP 33. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1994. Repr. pages 17–37 in Conflicted Boundaries in Wisdom and Apocalypticism. Ed. B. G. Wright III and L. M. Wills. SBLSymS 35. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2005. Niditch, Susan. Oral World and Written Word. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1996. Oesterley, W. O. E. II Esdras (The Ezra Apocalypse). WC. London: Methuen, 1933. Olson, Dennis T. Deuteronomy and the Death of Moses: A Theological Reading. OBT. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1994. Oppenheim, A. Leo. The Interpretation of Dreams in the Ancient Near East. Philadelphia: American Philosophical Society, 1956. Overman, J. Andrew. Matthew’s Gospel and Formative Judaism: The Social World of the Matthean Community. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1990. Pakkala, Juha. Ezra the Scribe: The Development of Ezra 7–10 and Nehemia 8. BZAW 347. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2004. Perdue, Leo. “Wisdom and Apocalyptic: The Case of Qoheleth.” Pages 231–58 in Wisdom and Apocalypticism in the Dead Sea Scrolls and in the Biblical Tradition. Ed. F. García Martínez. BETL 168. Leuven: Leuven University Press, 2002. ——. Wisdom and Creation: The Theology of the Wisdom Literature. Nashville: Abingdon, 1994. ——. Wisdom and Cult: A Critical Analysis of the Views of Cult in the Wisdom Literatures of Israel and the Ancient Near East. SBLDS 30. Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press, 1977.

248

bibliography

Plöger, Otto. Theocracy and Eschatology. Translated by S. Rudman. Oxford: Blackwell, 1968. Porter, F. C. “The Yeçer Hara: A Study in the Jewish Doctrine of Sin.” Pages 93–156 in Biblical and Semitic Studies: Critical and Historical Essays by the Members of the Semitic and Biblical Faculty of Yale University. Yale Bicentennial Publications. New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1901. Porton, Gary G. “The Grape-Cluster in Jewish Literature and Art of Late Antiquity.” JJS 27 (1976): 159–76. Puech, Émile. “Apports des Textes Apocalyptiques et Sapientiels de Qumran à l’Eschatologie du Judaïsme Ancien.” Pages 133–70 in Wisdom and Apocalypticism in the Dead Sea Scrolls and in the Biblical Tradition. Ed. F. García Martínez. BETL 168. Leuven: Leuven University Press, 2002. ——. “Some Remarks on 4Q246 and 4Q521 and Qumran Messianism.” Pages 545–65 in The Provo International Conference on the Dead Sea Scrolls: Technological Innovations, New Texts and Reformulated Issues. Edited by Donald W. Parry and Eugene Ulrich. STDJ 30. Leiden: Brill, 1999. Rad, Gerhard von. Old Testament Theology. Translated by D. M. G. Stalker. 2 vols. New York: Harper & Row, 1962–1965. ——. Theologie des Alten Testaments. 2 vols. 4th ed. Munich: Kaiser, 1965. ——. Wisdom in Israel. Translated by J. D. Martin. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1978. Rofé, Alexander. “Revealed Wisdom: From the Bible to Qumran.” Pages 1–11 in Sapiential Perspectives: Wisdom Literature in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls. Edited by J. J. Collins, G. E. Sterling and R. A. Clements. STDJ 51. Leiden: Brill, 2004. Rosenthal, F. Vier apokryphische Bücher aus der Zeit und Schule R. Akibas. Leipzig: Schulze, 1885. Rowland, Christopher. The Open Heaven: A Study of Apocalyptic in Judaism and Early Christianity. New York: Crossroad, 1982. Safrai, Shmuel, ed. The Literature of the Sages. 2 vols. CRINT 2/3. Assen:Van Gorcum; Philadelphia: Fortress, 1987. Saldarini, Anthony J. “The Book of Baruch.” Pages 927–82 in vol. 6 of The New Interpreter’s Bible. Edited by Leander Keck. Nashville: Abingdon, 2001. ——. Matthew’s Jewish-Christian Community. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1994. ——. “Varieties of Rabbinic Response to the Destruction of the Second Temple.” Pages 437–58 in SBL Seminar Papers, 1982. Edited by Kent H. Richards. SBLSP 21. Chico, Calif.: Scholars Press, 1982. Sanders, E. P. Paul and Palestinian Judaism: A Comparison of Patterns of Religion. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1977. Sanders, Jack T. “When Sacred Canopies Collide: The Reception of the Torah of Moses into the Wisdom Literature of the Second Temple Period.” JSJ 32 (2001): 121–36. Sayler, Gwendolyn B. Have the Promises Failed? A Literary Analysis of 2 Baruch. SBLDS 72. Chico, Calif.: Scholars Press, 1984. Schäfer, P. “Die Lehre von den zwei Welten im 4. Buch Esra und in der tannaitischen Literatur.” Pages 244–91 in Studien zur Geschichte und Theologie des Rabbinischen Judentums. AGJU 15. Leiden: Brill, 1978. Schiffman, Lawrence H. “Halakhic Elements in the Sapiential Texts from Qumran.” Pages 89–100 in Sapiential Perspectives: Wisdom Literature in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls. Edited by J. J. Collins, G. E. Sterling and R. A. Clements. STDJ 51. Leiden: Brill, 2004. Schnabel, Eckhard J. Law and Wisdom from Ben Sira to Paul: A Tradition Historical Enquiry into the Relation of Law, Wisdom and Ethics. WUNT II 16. Tübingen: Mohr/Siebeck, 1985. Schofer, Jonathan. The Making of a Sage: A Study in Rabbinic Ethics. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 2005.

bibliography

249

——. “The Redaction of Desire: Structure and Editing of Rabbinic Teachings Concerning yē er (‘Inclination’).” Journal of Jewish Thought and Philosophy 12 (2003): 19–53. Schreiner, Josef. Das 4. Buch Esra. JSHRZ 5/4. Gütersloh: Mohn, 1981. Schürer, Emil. Geschichte des jüdischen Volkes im Zeitalter Jesu Christi. 3 vols. Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1901–1909. ET, The History of the Jewish People in the Age of Jesus Christ (175 B.C.–A.D. 135). Revised and edited by G. Vermès, F. Millar and M. Black. 3 vols. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1973–1986. Sheppard, Gerald T. “Wisdom and Torah: The Interpretation of Deuteronomy Underlying Sirach 24:23.” Pages 166–76 in Biblical and Near Eastern Studies: Essays in Honor of William Sanford LaSor. Edited by Gary A. Tuttle. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1978. ——. Wisdom as a Hermeneutical Construct: A Study in the Sapientializing of the Old Testament. BZAW 151. Berlin: de Gruyter, 1980. Ska, J. L. “L’Éloge des Pères dans le Siracide (Si 44–50) et le Canon de L’Ancien Testament.” Pages 181–93 in Treasures of Wisdom: Studies in Ben Sira and the Book of Wisdom (Festschrift M. Gilbert). Edited by N. Calduch-Benages and J. Vermeylen. BETL 143. Leuven: Leuven University Press, 1999. Skehan, Patrick W. and Alexander A. DiLella. The Wisdom of Ben Sira. AB 39. New York: Doubleday, 1987. Smith, Jonathan Z. “Wisdom and Apocalyptic.” Pages 131–56 in Religious Syncretism in Antiquity: Essays in Conversation with Geo Widengren. Edited by Birger Pearson. Series on Formative Contemporary Thinkers 1. Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press, 1975. Sonnet, Jean-Pierre. The Book Within the Book: Writing in Deuteronomy. Biblical Interpretation 14. Leiden: Brill, 1997. Sparks, H. F. D., ed. The Apocryphal Old Testament. Oxford: Clarendon Press; New York: Oxford University Press, 1984. Stegemann, Harmut. Die Essener, Qumran, Johannes der Täufer, und Jesus: Ein Sachbuch. 2nd ed. Herder Spektrum. Freiburg im Breisgau: Herder, 1993. ET, The Library of Qumran: On the Essenes, Qumran, John the Baptist and Jesus. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans; Leiden: Brill, 1998. Sterling, Gregory. “Universalizing the Particular: Natural Law in Second Temple Jewish Ethics.” SPhilo 15 (2003): 64–80. ——. “Wisdom among the Perfect: Creation Traditions in Alexandrian Judaism and Corinthian Christianity.” NovT 37 (1995): 364–76. Stone, Michael E. “Apocalyptic Literature.” Pages 383–441 in Jewish Writing of the Second Temple Period. Edited by M. E. Stone. CRINT 2/2. Assen: Van Gorcum; Philadelphia: Fortress, 1984. ——. The Armenian Version of IV Ezra. University of Pennsylvania Armenian Texts and Studies 1. Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press, 1979. ——. “Coherence and Inconsistency in the Apocalypses: The Case of ‘the End’ in 4 Ezra.” JBL 102 (1983): 229–43. ——. “The Concept of the Messiah in 4 Ezra.” Pages 295–312 in Religions in Antiquity: Essays in Memory of Erwin Ramsdell Goodenough. Edited by J. Neusner. SHR 14. Leiden: Brill, 1968. ——. Features of the Eschatology of IV Ezra. HSS 35. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1989. ——. Fourth Ezra: A Commentary on the Book of Fourth Ezra. Hermeneia. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1990. ——. A History of the Literature of Adam and Eve. SBLEJL 3. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1992. ——. “Lists of Revealed Things in the Apocalyptic Literature.” Pages 414–54 in Magnalia Dei, The Mighty Acts of God: Essays on the Bible and Archaeology in Memory of G. Ernest Wright. Edited by F. M. Cross, W. E. Lemke and P. D. Miller. Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1976. ——. “The Parabolic Use of the Natural Order in Judaism of the Second Temple Age.” Pages 457–67 in Selected Studies in Pseudepigrapha and Apocrypha with Special Reference to the Armenian Tradition. SVTP 9. Leiden: Brill, 1991. Repr. from Gilgul: Essays on

250

bibliography

Transformation, Revolution and Permanence in the History of Religions. Edited by S. Shaked, D. Shulman and G. Stroumsa. SHR 50. Leiden: Brill, 1987. ——. “The Question of the Messiah in 4 Ezra.” Pages 209–24 in Judaisms and their Messiahs at the Turn of the Christian Era. Edited by J. Neusner, W. S. Green and E. S. Frerichs. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1987. ——. “Reactions to Destructions of the Second Temple: Theology, Perception and Conversion.” JSJ 12 (1982): 195–204. ——. A Textual Commentary on the Armenian Version of 4 Ezra. SBLSCS 34. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1990. ——. “The Way of the Most High and the Injustice of God in 4 Ezra.” Pages 348–58 in Selected Studies in the Pseudepigrapha and Apocrypha, with Special Reference to the Armenian Tradition. SVTP 9. Leiden: Brill, 1991. Repr. from Knowledge of God in the GraecoRoman World. Edited by R. van den Broek, T. Baarda and J. Mansfeld. EPRO 112. Leiden: Brill, 1988. Strack, H. L. and G. Stemberger. Introduction to the Talmud and Midrash. Translated by Markus Bockmuehl. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1991. Striker, Gisela. “Origins of the Concept of Natural Law.” Pages 209–220 in Essays on Hellenistic Epistemology and Ethics. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1996. Strugnell, John. “The Smaller Hebrew Wisdom Texts Found at Qumran: Variations, Resemblances and Lines of Development.” Pages 31–55 in The Wisdom Texts from Qumran and the Development of Sapiential Thought. Edited by C. Hempel, A. Lange and H. Lichtenberger. BETL 159. Leuven: Leuven University Press, 2002. —— and Daniel Harrington, eds. Qumran Cave 4 XXIV, Sapiential Texts, Part 2: 4QInstruction (Musar leMevin): 4Q415ff, with a re-edition of 1Q26; with an edition of 4Q423 by T. Elgvin. DJD 34. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1999. Tanzer, Sarah J. “Response to George Nickelsburg, ‘Wisdom and Apocalypticism in Early Judaism.’ ” Pages 39–49 in Conflicted Boundaries in Wisdom and Apocalypticism. Ed. B. G. Wright III and L. M. Wills. SBLSymS 35. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2005. Tcherikover, Victor. Hellenistic Civilization and the Jews. Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1961. Tennant, F. R. The Sources of the Doctrines of the Fall and Original Sin. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1903. Repr., New York: Schocken, 1968. Thompson, Alden L. Responsibility for Evil in the Theodicy of IV Ezra. SBLDS 29. Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press, 1977. Tigchelaar, Eibert J. C. “The Addressees of 4QInstruction.” Pages 62–75 in Sapiential, Liturgical and Poetical Texts from Qumran. Edited by D. K. Falk, F. García Martínez and E. Schuller. STDJ 35. Leiden: Brill, 2000. ——. “Eden and Paradise: The Garden Motif in Some Early Jewish Texts (1 Enoch and Other Texts Found at Qumran).” Pages 37–62 in Paradise Interpreted: Representations of Biblical Paradise in Judaism and Christianity. Edited by G. P. Luttikhuizen. Themes in Biblical Narrative 2. Leiden: Brill, 1999. ——. To Increase Learning for the Understanding Ones: Reading and Reconstructing the Fragmentary Early Jewish Sapiential Text 4QInstruction. STDJ 44. Leiden: Brill, 2001. ——. “Towards a Reconstruction of the Beginning of 4Qinstruction (4Q416 Fragment 1 and Parallels).” Pages 99–126 in The Wisdom Texts from Qumran and the Development of Sapiential Thought. Edited by C. Hempel, A. Lange and H. Lichtenberger. BETL 159. Leuven: Leuven University Press, 2002. Tiller, Patrick A. “Anti-apocalyptic Apocalypse.” Pages 258–65 in For a Later Generation: The Transformation of Tradition in Israel, Early Judaism and Early Christianity. Edited by Randal A. Argall, Beverly A. Bow and Rodney A. Werline. Harrisburg, Pa.: Trinity Press International, 2000. ——. “The ‘Eternal Planting’ in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” DSD 4 (1997): 312–35. Tobin, Thomas H. The Creation of Man: Philo and the History of Interpretation. CBQMS 14. Washington, D.C.: The Catholic Biblical Association of America, 1983.

bibliography

251

Tomasino, Anthony J. “Daniel and the Revolutionaries: The Use of the Daniel Tradition by Jewish Resistance Movements of Late Second Temple Palestine.” Ph.D. diss., University of Chicago, 1995. Urbach, Efraim E. The Sages: Their Concepts and Beliefs. Translated by Israel Abrahams. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1987. VanderKam, James C. Enoch and the Growth of an Apocalyptic Tradition. CBQMS 16. Washington, D.C.: The Catholic Biblical Association of America, 1984. ——. “The Prophetic-Sapiential Origins of Apocalyptic Thought.” Pages 163–76 in A Word in Season: Essays in Honor of William McKane. Edited by J. D. Martin and P. R. Davies. JSOTSup 42. Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1986. ——. “Righteous One, Messiah, Chosen One and Son of Man in 1 Enoch 37–71.” Pages 169–91 in The Messiah: Developments in Earliest Judaism and Christianity. First Princeton Symposium on Judaism and Christian Origins. Minneapolis: Fortress, 1992. —— and Peter Flint. The Meaning of the Dead Sea Scrolls: Their Significance for Understanding the Bible, Judaism, Jesus and Christianity. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 2002. Vermès, Geza. “Josephus’ Treatment of the Book of Daniel.” JJS 42 (1991): 149–66. Vielhauer, P. Introduction to “Apocalypses and Related Subjects.” Pages 581–607 in vol. 2 of New Testament Apocrypha. Edited by E. Hennecke, W. Schneemelcher and R. McL. Wilson. 2 vols. London: SCM; Philadelphia: Westminster, 1963–1966. Villiers, Pieter G. R. de. “Understanding the Way of God: Form, Function and Message of the Historical Review in 4 Ezra 3:4–27.” Pages 357–75 in SBL Seminar Papers, 1981. Edited by Kent H. Richards. SBLSP 20. Chico, Calif.: Scholars Press, 1981. Violet, B. Die Apokalypsen des Esra und des Baruch in deutcher Gestalt. GCS 32. Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1924. ——. Die Esra-Apocalypse (IV Esra). Vol. 1: Die Überlieferung. GCS 18. Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1910. Volkmar, G. Das vierte Buch Esrae (“Esdra Propheta”). Vol. 2 of Handbuch der Einleitung in die Apokryphen. Tübingen: Fues, 1863. Wacholder, Ben Zion and Martin G. Abegg. A Preliminary Edition of the Unpublished Dead Sea Scrolls: The Hebrew and Aramaic Texts from Cave Four. 2 vols. Washington, D.C.: Dead Sea Research Council, Biblical Archaeology Society, 1992. Weinfeld, Moshe. “Deuteronomy, Book of.” Pages 168–83 in vol. 2 of The Anchor Bible Dictionary. Edited by David Noel Freedman. New York: Doubleday, 1992. ——. Deuteronomy 1–11: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary. AB 5. New York: Doubleday, 1991. ——. Deuteronomy and the Deuteronomic School. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1972. Werman, Cana. “What is the Book of Hagu?” Pages 125–40 in Sapiential Perspectives: Wisdom Literature in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls. Edited by J. J. Collins, G. E. Sterling and R. A. Clements. STDJ 51. Leiden: Brill, 2004. Westermann, Claus. “Struktur und Geschichte der Klage im Alten Testament.” ZAW 66/NS 25 (1954): 44–80. Wills, Lawrence M. The Jewish Novel in the Ancient World. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1995. Winston, David. “Theodicy in Ben Sira and Stoic Philosophy.” Pages 239–49 in Of Scholars, Savants, and their Texts: Studies in Philosophy and Religious Thought: Essays in Honor of Arthur Hyman. Edited by R. Link-Salinger Hyman. New York: Lang, 1989. Woude, A. S. van der. “Wisdom at Qumran.” Pages 244–57 in Wisdom in Ancient Israel: Essays in Honour of J. A. Emerton. Edited by J. Day, R. P. Gordon and H. G. M. Williamson. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995. Wright, Benjamin G., III, “The Categories of Rich and Poor in the Qumran Sapiential Literature.” Pages 101–23 in Sapiential Perspectives: Wisdom Literature in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls. Edited by J. J. Collins, G. E. Sterling and R. A. Clements. STDJ 51. Leiden: Brill, 2004. ——. “ ‘Fear the Lord and Honor the Priest’: Ben Sira as Defender of the Jerusalem Priesthood.” Pages 189–96 in The Book of Ben Sira in Modern Research: Proceedings of the

252

bibliography

First International Ben Sira Conference, 28–31 July 1996, Soesterberg, Netherlands. Edited by P. C. Beentjes. BZAW 255. Berlin: de Gruyter, 1997. ——. “Putting the Puzzle Together: Some Suggestions Concerning the Social Location of the Wisdom of Ben Sira,” Pages 96–102 in Conflicted Boundaries in Wisdom and Apocalypticism. Edited by B. G. Wright III and L. M. Wills. SBLSymS 35. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2005. Zimmerli, Walther. “The Place and Limit of the Wisdom in the Framework of the Old Testament Theology.” Pages 314–26 in Studies in Ancient Israelite Wisdom. Edited by James L. Crenshaw. Repr. from SJT 17 (1964): 146–58. Zimmerman, F. “The Language, Date and the Portrayal of the Messiah in 4 Ezra.” HS 26 (1985): 203–18. Zimmermann, Johannes. Messianische Texte aus Qumran: Königliche, priesterliche und prophetische Messias vorstellungen in den Schriftfunden von Qumran. WUNT II 104. Tübingen: Mohr/Siebeck, 1998. ——. “Observations on 4Q246—The ‘Son of God’.” Pages 175–90 in QumranMessianism: Studies on the Messianic Expectations in the Dead Sea Scrolls. Edited by James H. Charlesworth, Hermann Lichtenberger and Gerbern S. Oegema. Tübingen: Mohr/Siebeck, 1998.

INDEX OF ANCIENT SOURCES Hebrew Bible Genesis 1 1–3 1–4 1:2 1:26–27 1:26–28 1:27 2–3 2:6 2:7 2:10–14 2:15 2:16–17 3 3:16–17 3:18 3:22–24 6:5 8:21 9:11 9:16 10 12:3 15:18 17:5–6 18:1 22:2 22:11 22:18 46:2 46:27 49:9–10

77, 109, 121, 129 46, 57, 58, 112, 118 112 77 57 57, 59, 129, 146 58, 113 58, 59, 112, 113, 119, 120 77 57, 58 78, 80 59 138 113 116 60 116 114, 120 114, 120 87 58 217 87 87 87 207 129 207 87 207 217 180

Exodus 1:5 3:4 4:22 23:31 24:1 24:18 32:19 34:6–7 34:7b 34:28

217 207 129 87 217 206 206 132, 145 145 206

Leviticus 26

50

Numbers 8:14 11:16 13:33–34 15 16:9 18 18:20 22–24 24:17 24:17–19 25:13 30

54 217 82 50 54 50 53 68 56 153 88 50

Deuteronomy 4 4:1–24 4:1–40 4:6 4:6–8 5:1 6:4 6:10–11 8:12–13 9–10 9:17 9:18 9:25–29 10:1–5 10:8–9 10:10 11:24 17:16–20 28 28:15–44 28:45–48 28:49 29–32 30:11 30:11–14 30:12–13 30:14 30:15–20

45, 73 73 73 83 72, 73, 80, 95, 106, 136 81 81 79 79 206 206 206 206 206 54 206 87 79 106 104 104 187 104 75 75 75, 83 75 81, 90

254 30:19

index of ancient sources

31:20 31:27–29 32:8b 32:8–9 32:12a 32:13–15 33:4

16, 131, 138, 211, 213 79 211 78 78, 92, 98 77 79 79, 80

Judges 4:5

207

1 Samuel 1–2 3:4 3:10

174 207 207

2 Samuel 7:14 21:17 21:20 22:9–10 24:14

196 171 82 188 107

1 Kings 3:9

91

Ezra 1–6 7:6 7:6–10 7:11 7:12 7:21 9

220 208 220 208 208, 211, 218 208, 211, 218 133, 171, 211

Nehemiah 8 8:1 8:4 8:9 8:13 9 9–10

211, 219 208 208 208 208 133, 171 219

Job 3:1–19 4:17–21 10 10:18–19 12:12–13 16:9 21:7–15

107 110 110 107 81 106 79

22:17–18 25:4–6 28 28:12–22 28:12–27 28:23–27 28:24 28:27 28:28 38 38–39 38:16–17 42:2–6 42:3

79 110 72, 75, 80, 82, 83, 95, 233 81 75 83 83 83 74 83 68 105, 121 102 75

Psalms 2 2:1–2 2:2 2:6 2:7 2:9 8:7 18:9–10 19:11 73:7–11 74:19 80 80:9–17 97:3–5 105:10–11 119:105 135:4 136:9 147:19–20

192, 187, 189, 192, 196, 188 59 188 78 79 128 78 128 188 83 171 83 75 83

Proverbs 1:7 3:13 3:16–17 3:18 3:19 6:23 8 8:19 8:22 8:22–26 8:22–31 9 9:5–6 9:10 15:33 30:4

74 81 81 78 50 171 78, 80, 233 78 77 115 76, 78, 83 78 78 74 74 68, 83

198, 203 191 196 198 198

index of ancient sources 30:8–9 30:18

79 75

Ecclesiastes 1:16–18 2:15–16 2:18–21 3:11

82 82 82 50

Isaiah 5:1–7 6:8 11 11:2 11:4 17:6 24–27 27:2–6 40–66 40:15 40:17 40:25–26 42:1–4 43:5–7 44:1 45:18 45:23 48:3 49:1–7 50:4–9 51:11 52:13–53:12 54 54:11–12 55:11 60–62 60:9 61:3 65:8 65:9 66:15–16 66:20

128 207 198, 193 188, 147 6 128 176 129 129 89 196 193 83 89 77 77 196 196 193 196 176 177 77 176, 193 148 147, 148 188 193

Jeremiah 2:21 10:16 25:11–12 29:10 31:31–34 43 50:17 51:16 51:58

78, 128 83 160, 217, 220 217, 220 135 221 128 108 63

203 197

177 148

255

Lamentations 3:47

56

Ezekiel 1:1 1:24 1:27 2:9–3:3 2:28 3:1 3:2 3:25–27 3:26–27 8:11 9:3 10:18–19 15 17 17:6 19 36:26–27 38–39 40–42 40–48 40:2 43:2 47–48

215 108 215 207 215 215 215 215 215 217 165 165 78 78 128 78 116 6, 187 176 176, 177 176 107 194

Daniel 1–6 2 2:34–35 3:33 4:31 4:34 7 7–12 7:2 7:3 7:3–7 7:4 7:5 7:5–7 7:7 7:7–11 7:8 7:9–10 7:10 7:11 7:13 7:13–14 7:14

6 198 191 197 197 197 160, 197, 230 179, 179 179 180 180 179 179 179, 179 180 187 181 179, 187, 197

182, 186, 187, 198, 203 186

181

186, 187 188, 189, 198

256

index of ancient sources

7:15–27 7:23 7:27 8:3–14 8:15–26 8:23b–26 8:26 9 9:2 9:20–27 9:24 9:24–27 10:2–3 10:10–21 11 12:3 12:4 12:9 12:11–12

101 160, 197 181 101 180, 169, 133 160, 101 217 160 18 101 179 151 169, 169, 218

Hosea 10:1 11:1–4

78, 128 129

197

181 226 217

226 226

11:10–11 11:11 14:6 14:6–8

193 128 128 78

Joel 1:7 2:1–2

128 187

Amos 3:12

147

Micah 1:3–4

188

Zechariah 9–14 14:2

6 187

Malachi 3:16

55

New Testament Matthew 19:28

194

Luke 12:54–56 22:30

105 194

John 1:14

84

Acts 7

86

Romans 1–11 2:17 2:23 11:25–36

33 84 84 165

1 Corinthians 15:35–49

58

Hebrews 11

86

Revelation 1:14 5:5 13:1–7 13:18 15:2 21–22 21:2 21:10 21:12 21:15–17 21:22 22:10

108 180 181 217 108 14, 165, 177 176 176 194 176 176 169

Apocrypha Baruch 1:1–3:8 1:18–19 3:9

81 85 85, 95, 213

3:9–4:4 3:9a 3:10–13

45, 71–72, 73, 76, 81, 85, 98, 227 81 81

index of ancient sources 3:14 3:15–23 3:15–31 3:20–23 3:23 3:24 3:24–28 3:26 3:28 3:29–30 3:29–35 3:32–35 3:36 3:36–4:4 3:37 3:38 4:1 4:1–4 4:3 4:3–4 4:4 4:13 2 Esdras (4 Ezra) 1–2 (5 Ezra) 3–10 3:1 3:2 3:3 3:4–5 3:4–36 3:5 3:6 3:7 3:8–9 3:8–10 3:10 3:11 3:12 3:14 3:15 3:16 3:17–19 3:19 3:20 3:20–21 3:20–22 3:20–26 3:21 3:22

81, 95 81–82 95 85 96 85 82 95 95 68, 75 83 84, 89 89 75, 83–84 85, 95 84 79, 84, 85, 95 75 85 130, 136 85 85 12 12, 14 9, 215, 220 165, 199 103 118 103 113 113 113, 117, 120, 134, 137 113 117 113 127 127 207 127 127 127, 134 134 85, 104, 114, 134, 142, 155 104 106, 115, 134, 139, 155 17 114, 117, 120 17, 114, 116, 120, 134, 135

3:23–24 3:24 3:25–26 3:26 3:27 3:31 3:31–32 3:32 3:33 3:33–36 3:34–35 3:35 3:35–36 3:36 4:1 4:2 4:2–3 4:3–5 4:4 4:5 4:7 4:7–8 4:9 4:9–11 4:10–11 4:12 4:13–18 4:18 4:19 4:20 4:21 4:22 4:22–23 4:22–25 4:23 4:25 4:26 4:27 4:27–32 4:28–32 4:30 4:33 4:36 4:40–42 4:40–43 4:41 4:41–42 4:48–49 4:48–50 4:52 5:1–12 5:1–13 5:14

257 127, 174 175 104 114, 128, 139 165 104, 199 127 128, 132, 137, 138 128 104 128 104, 135, 139 85 128, 135 166 104 121 104 115 104, 121 104, 105, 195 68, 120 121 105 173 107, 167, 170, 229 105 144 106 144 106, 120, 176, 177 125 122 123, 130 106, 111, 123, 134, 205 106 122, 123 130, 144 120 106, 115 17, 114, 115, 117 106 149 149 118 121 124 166 147 107, 209 106 191 159

258 5:16 5:16–19 5:17–18 5:19 5:21 5:23 5:23–30 5:24 5:25 5:26 5:27 5:28 5:29 5:30 5:31 5:31–40 5:32 5:33 5:34 5:34–35 5:34–40 5:35 5:36–37 5:36–40 5:37 5:38–39 5:39 5:40 5:41 5:41–42 5:42 5:43 5:43–45 5:44 5:46–55 5:48 5:48–50 5:49 5:50 5:50–55 6:1–6 6:5 6:6 6:7 6:8–10 6:13 6:13–17 6:15–16 6:17 6:17–27

index of ancient sources 170 20, 170 170 170 103 128 10, 85, 106, 128, 199, 234 128 128 128 85, 106, 128, 134, 136, 137 106, 127, 128 128, 132, 137, 138 106, 122, 128 122, 166 122 105, 122 130, 133, 146, 168 37, 107, 122, 123, 124, 168, 173 229 173 107, 125, 170 68, 104, 122 105 122 107 122 108, 122, 123, 124, 130, 146 147 204 123, 124 124 144 149 164 168 118, 124 141 164 209 115 115–116 39, 115, 125, 149, 168, 190 152 10, 38, 152–53 107, 159 207 109 108 108

6:18–28 6:21–22 6:25 6:25–28 6:26 6:26–28 6:31–34 6:32 6:35 6:36–37 6:38–54 6:53–54 6:54 6:54–59 6:55 6:56 6:58 6:59 7:1 7:2 7:3–9 7:10 7:10–11 7:10–14 7:10–16 7:11 7:11–12 7:12 7:12–13 7:12–14 7:13 7:14 7:16 7:17 7:18 7:19 7:20 7:20–21 7:20–24 7:20–25 7:21 7:21–24 7:22–24 7:24 7:26 7:26–28 7:26–29 7:26–44 7:27 7:27–28 7:28 7:28–29

191 108 116, 130 144 12, 195, 208 116 151 169 18 103 109 118 109, 119, 129 116 109, 129 129 129 137 166 105, 159 130 130 133 203 137 109, 116, 130, 137, 138 120 116 130 149 116 109, 117, 130, 131 126, 130 134, 140, 144 131, 144 144 134, 140, 141, 155 138, 140, 141 139, 192, 204 138, 211 16, 131, 138 149, 155 138 132, 134, 140, 143 151, 175, 191, 199, 204 198, 199, 201, 202 38, 39, 189, 231 11, 39, 152, 199 116 204 12, 190, 195, 201, 202, 208 151, 190, 198, 202

index of ancient sources 7:28–30 7:29–44 7:30–44 7:31–42 7:32 7:33 7:33–34 7:33–43 7:34 7:37 7:39–43 7:45–48 7:47 7:47–48 7:48 7:49 7:50 7:54 7:57 7:59 7:60–61 7:62 7:62–63 7:62–69 7:62–74 7:64 7:66 7:67 7:69 7:70 7:70–73 7:71–72 7:71–73 7:72 7:72–73 7:74 7:75 7:75–101 7:76–77 7:76–87 7:77 7:78 7:78–99 7:79 7:80 7:81 7:83 7:85 7:88 7:88–89 7:89 7:91–99 7:92

209 201 151 109 202 150 144 231 150 69, 139, 152, 192, 202, 204, 211 126 109 144, 214 145 117 105 145 164 145 109 109, 117, 145 117 124 110, 140 124 124 125 170 125 115, 117, 125 118 140 125 117, 120, 124, 134, 155, 211 149 149 125 108 109, 151, 169 117 13, 116 124 151 134, 140 121 134 132, 140, 143 121 124 13, 148 134, 139, 149 151 149

7:93 7:94 7:95 7:96 7:97 7:100 7:101 7:102–103 7:105 7:105–11 7:106–11 7:112 7:112–14 7:115 7:116 7:116–26 7:118 7:119 7:119–25 7:120–25 7:123 7:125 7:126 7:127 7:127–28 7:127–29 7:127–31 7:129 7:129–31 7:130 7:131 7:132–40 7:133 7:134 7:139–40 8:1 8:1–3 8:4 8:4–14 8:4–19 8:4–36 8:6 8:7–14 8:11–12 8:12 8:15 8:15–16 8:19b 8:20–36 8:25 8:26 8:29

259 151 132, 134 121, 151 151 151 124 121 145 151 86 103, 132, 133, 145, 171 132 126 132 118, 164 110, 118, 120, 154 112, 117, 120 117–18 151 117 151 151 117, 125 126 131 120, 211 39, 118, 148, 149 131 211, 213 131 145 110, 132, 133, 145, 234 134 114 145 35, 127, 132 109, 145 110, 142 110 145 146, 234 142, 155 114 142 134 142 39, 103, 110, 132, 154 145 17, 36, 110, 133 110 133 134

260 8:30 8:33 8:34 8:34–35 8:36–9:12 8:38 8:38–39 8:40 8:41 8:42–45 8:43–45 8:44 8:44–45 8:46 8:47 8:47–54 8:47–62 8:48–49 8:51 8:52 8:52–54 8:53–54 8:55 8:56 8:59–60 8:62 9:1–12 9:1–13 9:3 9:7 9:7–8 9:8 9:11 9:13 9:14–16 9:15–16 9:18–22 9:19 9:20 9:20–22 9:21 9:21–22 9:22 9:23–26 9:26 9:27 9:28–37 9:29–31 9:29–32 9:29–37 9:31 9:32 9:32b–33 9:34–37

index of ancient sources 146 142, 148 133, 146, 150 110 11 146 133 146 146, 149, 164 103, 108 110, 146 118, 146 114 146 146 169 110, 151 146 209 121, 151, 175 151 151 146 134, 140, 155 147 111, 121, 209 191 147 191 116 116, 148 194 134 110 110, 111, 214 147, 154, 164 168 147 147 108, 150, 234 10, 148 147, 148, 171 148 18 170 103 142 156 213 19, 154, 211 134, 142, 154 134, 155 155 155

9:36 9:36–37 9:37 9:39 9:43–10:4 10:4 10:5 10:5–6 10:6–17 10:7 10:9 10:9–14 10:10 10:11–14 10:12–13 10:14 10:15–17 10:16 10:17 10:18 10:19–23 10:19–24 10:20–24 10:21–23 10:25–27 10:27 10:28 10:28–37 10:30 10:31 10:32 10:33 10:34 10:34–35 10:34–37 10:35 10:36 10:37 10:38 10:39 10:44 10:45 10:45–46 10:46 10:47 10:48 10:49 10:50 10:54 10:55 10:55–56 10:57

134, 156, 213 155 135, 156 162, 172 111 166, 170 162, 163, 172 162, 163 163 110, 164 164 111 163, 164 35 164 164 14 164, 175 170 166, 170 154 164 110 165 166 14 166, 168 38, 168 166, 229 167 167, 229 167, 207 168 167 18, 169 102 167 229 167 111, 167, 173 174, 191, 198, 199, 204 174, 209 178 174 111, 174 174, 175 166 167, 175 39, 175, 191, 198, 199, 204 14, 167, 175, 177 176 169, 177

index of ancient sources 10:58 10:59 11–12 11–13 11:1 11:2 11:3 11:11 11:19 11:25 11:26–27 11:29–31 11:32 11:35 11:36–37 11:37 11:38 11:38–46 11:39–40 11:39–46 11:42 11:43–44 11:45–46 12:3 12:4 12:5 12:6 12:7 12:7–9 12:9 12:10 12:11 12:11–12 12:12 12:14 12:20 12:22–28 12:24–25 12:27–28 12:31–33 12:31–34 12:32 12:32–33 12:34 12:36 12:36–37 12:37 12:37–38 12:38 12:39

18 178 12, 181 165, 202 179 179 185 185 183 183 183 179 180 179 180, 182 180 180 192 180 199 180 180 190 168, 172, 181 168 169 169 169 172 169 168, 221 179, 181, 187 160 179 183 183 182 180 180 192, 204 152 180, 181, 189, 190, 194, 202 181 39, 168, 190, 191, 194, 199, 201, 202, 203, 204 169 217 169, 218 40, 177, 212, 215, 227, 230, 236 169, 171 18, 170

12:40 12:40–50 12:41 12:42 12:43 12:44 12:46–47 12:46–49 12:48 12:49 12:50 12:51 13 13:1 13:1–13 13:2 13:2–13 13:3 13:4 13:5 13:6 13:7 13:8 13:9 13:9–11 13:10–11 13:11 13:12 13:12–13 13:13 13:13b–20 13:14 13:16 13:19 13:20 13:20–21 13:24 13:26 13:27–28 13:28 13:29 13:30 13:30–31 13:32 13:33 13:33–34 13:35 13:35–36 13:36 13:37 13:37–38 13:37–39

261 170 20, 170 170 148, 171 171 170 171 35, 206, 236 171, 199, 206 170 171 170 12, 187, 189, 196, 197 185 186, 189 186 187, 198 186, 187 188, 191 187, 190, 191 191 191 187, 191 188, 191 191 187, 188 190, 192 111 190, 192 193 171 172 172 172 210 168 210 189, 190, 194, 204 191, 192 191 190 168 191 188, 189, 191, 198 198 191 191, 198 199, 203 39, 175, 191, 198, 204 188, 189, 198 191, 192, 198, 204 197

262 13:38 13:39–40 13:41–42 13:41–47 13:42 13:43–44 13:46–47 13:46–50 13:47 13:48 13:49–50 13:51 13:52 13:53–55 13:54 13:56 13:57–58 14 14:1 14:1–2 14:1–7 14:2 14:3 14:3–4 14:4 14:4–5 14:5–6 14:6 14:7–18 14:9 14:10 14:11–12 14:13 14:13–15 14:16–17 14:16–18 14:18 14:19–22 14:20 14:21 14:21–22 14:22 14:23 14:23–26 14:24 14:25 14:26

index of ancient sources 134, 204 111 193 193 111 193 193 204 193 194 191, 194, 198, 203 194 177, 179, 188, 195, 198, 208 107, 172, 173, 216 134, 168 168 172, 228 11, 12 207 207 171 207 206, 207 213 206, 207 207 208, 217, 220 214 207 12, 177, 188, 195, 198, 208, 209, 218 209 200, 208, 209, 218 40, 169, 207, 210, 211, 213, 218, 227, 230, 236 222 209 218 209 215 210 134, 210, 212 205, 206 12, 134, 211, 212, 214, 218 207, 210 215 214, 222 214, 216 169, 214

14:27 14:27–36 14:28 14:28–36 14:29–30 14:30 14:30–33 14:31 14:32 14:33 14:34 14:35 14:37–48 14:38 14:38–39 14:38–41 14:40 14:41 14:42 14:42–44 14:45 14:45–46 14:45–47 14:46 14:46–47 14:47 14:49 14:50 15–16 (6 Ezra)

215 207, 212 213 29, 35, 222, 226, 230, 236 213 134, 212 206 213 213, 214 212 212, 214 212 215 215 207 215 215 215 216, 222 206, 214 236 208, 222 169, 213 40, 217 236 40, 205, 216, 218 200, 209 207, 218 12, 177

1 Maccabees 2:51–60

86

4 Maccabees 16:16–23 18:11–19

43 86 86

Sirach 1:11–21 1:19 1:25–27 1:26–27 2:7–18 2:11 2:12–14 2:16 2:18 3:21–24 3:29 4:1–6 4:13 4:11 4:18

74 87 74 86 96 116 68 74 107 93, 94, 107 94 67 87 94 94

index of ancient sources 5:4–7 5:4–8 6:29–31 6:32–37 7:27–28 7:32–33 8:8–9 10:19 11:4 13:1–26 14:3–19 15:1 15:11 15:11–12 15:11–20 15:11–18:14 15:14 15:14–15 15:14–17 15:14–20 15:15 15:15–17 15:18 16:12–13 16:17–23 16:20 16:20–23 16:24–28 16:24–17:14 16:26–17:4 16:26–17:10 17:1–2 17:1–4 17:1–10 17:1–14 17:1–24 17:6 17:6–7 17:6–10 17:7 17:8–10 17:11 17:11–12 17:11–14 17:11–17 17:12–13 17:13 17:14 17:15 17:17 17:19–20 17:20

96 150 87 94 52 67 94 74 93 67 67 76, 86 119 68 90 66, 90, 119, 135, 150 57, 116, 119 136 138, 233 98 119 74 83 97 68 93 93, 107 69 90, 92, 133 91 109 113 91 125 98, 138 150 91, 92 93 91, 125 136 92 76, 81, 91, 109, 136, 213 75 92, 233 85 91 92 90, 91 92 78, 92, 98 92 90

17:25–18:14 17:29 17:29–30 17:29–32 18:4 18:13 18:7–14 18:12–14 19:18–24 19:20 21:11 23:12 23:27cd 24 24:3–7 24:8 24:8–12 24:10–11 24:10–12 24:12 24:13–16 24:19–22 24:23 24:23–24 24:25–27 24:28 24:30 24:30–34 24:33 24:34 25:24 28:2–6 28:7 33:10 33:10–13 33:18 34:1–7 35:22b–26 35:23a 35:24 35:25–26 36:1 36:1–22 36:2 36:13 36:13–22 36:16 36:17–19 36:18–19 37:16–31 37:25 37:26 38:9–11

263 150 116 96 150 93 150 96, 150 116 74 74, 76, 86 74, 86 86 74 73, 76, 79, 85, 95 77 78, 79, 83, 88 77 88 84 79, 98 78 78–79 75, 76, 79, 80, 84, 135, 136 76 78, 80, 136, 216 80, 137 81, 216 99 81, 216 81, 85, 98 113, 119 96, 116 85 57 66 85, 98 93 96, 98, 150 98 98 98 97 66, 85, 96, 97, 150 97 97 98 97 97 98 85 85 87 87

264 38:24–39:11 38:34 38:34–39:1 38:34–39:11 39:1 39:1–3 39:4 39:8 39:12–35 39:16–35 39:17 39:21 39:34 40:11 41:8–9 42:1–8 42:15 42:15–43:33 42:18c 42:19 42:21 42:23–25 43:32 43:33 44:1–50:24 44:1–15 44:13 44:15 44:16 44:16–49:16 44:17–45:26 44:18 44:19 44:21 44:22 44:22–45:5 44:23 45:4–5

index of ancient sources 85, 99 85, 94 99, 223 94 94–95 95 67, 94 85 97 97 97 97 97 113 68 85 94 87, 94, 99, 123 83 94 87 97 94 87 85, 123 86 87 86, 87 87 86 87–89, 133 87 87 87 87 127 88 88

45:5 45:6–24 45:15 45:15–17 45:24 45:25 45:26 46:1 47:11 47:14 47:18 49:4 49:10 49:14–16 49:16 50:1–21 50:20–21 50:22–24 50:27 51 51:23

75, 81, 91, 135, 213 88 88 88 88 88 86, 88 89 89 86 89 88 89 87 57, 117, 119, 129 86, 88 89 86, 96, 150 67 96 67

Tobit 7–8 13:9–17 14:5–7

174 176 176

Wisdom 1:13 2:13 2:16 2:18 2:23–24 9:15 10 10:15–19 19:22

43, 99 113 196 196 196 113 124 86 77 99

Pseudepigrapha Apoc. Abraham 9–32 29:2

101 200, 209

Apoc. Moses

15–16, 208

2 Baruch 4:2–3 5:1 5:5 6:7–9

175 165 225 165

14:16–19 15:5–6 20:4 30 36–40 40:3–4 44:6 48:23 48:42 53 54:15

109 140 124 201 181 201 124 120 120 200, 209 120

index of ancient sources 54:19 55–74 55–76 59:2 59:3–4 76:5 77:13–14 77:16–17 77:17 77:19 78–86 78:1 80:1–2 82:5

120 1 101 171 208 211 171 171 193 193 211 193 165 129

1 Enoch 1 1–5 1:2–3 1:3b 1:3c–9 1:8 2–5 2:1–5:4 5:5–9 5:8 7 21–25 25 27 27:4 32 40 43 46 46:3 48:4 48:10 52–54 52:4 57 60–61 81:6 82:1 82:1–4a 82:3 90:33 91 91–105 91:3–4 91:18–19

62 51, 67, 68 68 68 68 150 105, 141 67, 68, 69 69 69 95 101 151 101 150 101, 151 101 101 101 194 196 189 101 189 193 101 169 169 67 169 193 63 67 68, 69 68, 69

265

92:1 92:4 93:1–10 + 91:11–17 93:6 93:11–14 94:1–5 94:1–6 94:8–11 97:7–10 98:6–8 99:10 101 103–104 103:9 104:4–6 104:7

67 65 67 68 68 69 68 68 68 68 68 68, 69 63 68 69 68

2 Enoch 35:2 40:1–2

169 169

Jubilees 1:5

208 169

L.A.B. (Ps.-Philo) 7:3

129

L.A.E.

15–16

Psalms of Solomon 7 17:23–24 17:29 17:31 17:33–34 17:35 18:2 18:10–12

107 188 197 193 188 188 129 69

Ps.-Phocylides

43, 141

Sibylline Oracles Prologue 11:170–71

169 169

Testament of Moses 1:12 1:16–17

129 169

Testament of Naphtali 3:2–4:1

69

266

index of ancient sources Qumran

CD 2:17–3:12 10:6 13:2

86 55 55

1QpHab 3:11

180

1Q/4Q Mysteries 1Q27 1 i 5–7

44, 50 63

4QInstruction 4Q416 1

188, 196–98 197 197 197 197 197

1 i 14 1 i 14–15 1 i 16 1 i 16–18 1 i 17 1 i 17–18 1 i 18 1 i 18–19 1 i 23 1 i 24 1 i 27 1 ii 8 2 i 10–12 2 i 11 2 i 11–12 2 i 14–16 2 i 15–16 2 iii 6–8 55 55 11 69 ii

188

4Q418 69 ii 3–4

1Q34bis 3 2:1–4

69

1QH (Hodayot) 11:22 20:15

63 65

4Q161 (4QpIsaa) 3 vii 26

188 197

4Q174 (4QFlor)

188, 196

4Q184

44

4Q185

44, 143

4Q215a

44, 63

4Q252 (4QpGena)

44

4Q417 4Q417 4Q417 4Q417 4Q417 4Q417 4Q417 4Q417 4Q417 4Q417 4Q417 4Q417 4Q417 4Q417 4Q417 4Q417 4Q417 4Q417 4Q418 4Q418 4Q418

55

3 5 5–6 5–9 9

4Q413

1 1 1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 1 1 1 1 1 1

1QSa 1:7

2 2 2 2 2

44

4Q416 4Q416 4Q416 4Q416 4Q416 4Q416 4Q416 4Q416 4Q416 4Q416 4Q416 4Q416 4Q416 4Q416 4Q417 4Q417 4Q417 4Q417 4Q417 4Q417

1QS (Rule of the Community) 3:13–4:26 44 3:15–18 69 3:17–18 57 4:6 63 4:7–8 65 4:12–14 65 4:18–19 63 4:22 63, 64 11:22 63

4Q246 4Q246 4Q246 4Q246 4Q246 4Q246

4Q298

7–9 10–13 10–14 11 12 12–13 16 ii 11–12 iii 8–11 iii 12–14 iii 12–15 iii 15–19 iii 16–17 4 i1 i 3–4 i 6–8 i 6–9 i 8–9 i 13–18

50–51, 63, 105 64 61 62, 150 65 63 151 60 65 48 68 48 51 52 61 52 49 60 52 50 55, 57, 59, 71, 116, 149 52 55 55 58, 59 56, 58, 62 58, 118, 119 52 52 149 53 149 61 62 151 64 61 150 149 63, 65 56 53, 63, 65, 150, 151 51

index of ancient sources 4Q418 4Q418 4Q418 4Q418 4Q418 4Q418 4Q418 4Q418 4Q418 4Q418

69 69 69 69 69 69 77 81 81 81

ii ii ii ii ii ii 3

7 7–9 10–15 12–13 14–15 15

4Q418 4Q418 4Q418 4Q418 4Q418 4Q418 4Q418 4Q418 4Q418 4Q418 4Q423

81 1–14 81 2 81 3 81 4–5 81 13–14 103 ii 2–9 123 ii 3–4 126 i–ii 126 i–ii 8 172 6 1–2

4Q423 4Q423 4Q423 4Q423

1–2 2 1–2 7 1–2 7–8 3 1–5

1–2 1–3

63 151 64, 69, 126 63 151 58, 64 56, 61 151 56, 60 56, 117, 118, 133 54 62 53 58, 60, 65 148 67 49 65, 150, 151 62, 151 67 58, 59–60, 151 59 118 149 67

4Q423 4Q423 4Q423 4Q423

4 5 1–4 54 5 5–6

267 67 50 61 67

4Q419

44, 143

4Q424

44

4Q425

44

4Q510–11

44

4Q525

143

4Q554 4Q554 2 ii

177

4Q555

177

5Q15

177

11Q5 (11 QPsa) xxviii 7–8

83

11Q18

177

Philo De Abrahamo 3–6

141

De opificio mundi 1:2

141

Legum allegoriae 1:31–32

57

De vita Mosis 2:9–11

141

Josephus Antiquitates judaicae 10:186–281 10:276 11:133

181 181 193

Contra Apionem 1:38

212

Rabbinic Literature b. Sanh. 21b

210

m. Avot 1 2:8–14 6:12

99 169 225 99

m. Sanh. 10:3

193

t. Sanh. 4:7

210

Gen. Rab.

153

268

index of ancient sources

Lev. Rab. 26:7

153 208

Num. Rab. 34:2

Sifre Deuteronomy 306 306–41

69, 105 226

208

Masseket Kelim 48

225

Early Christian Literature 1 Clement 19–20

69

Clement, Stromateis

184

INDEX OF MODERN AUTHORS Abegg, Martin G. 44 Aitken, James K. 94 Alon, Gedaliah 4, 225 Alonso Schökel, Luis 90, 92, 133 Anderson, Gary A. 16 Argall, Randal A. 8, 67, 68, 94, 96, 97, 98, 223 Bakhtin, Mikhail 101–102, 232 Beale, Gregory K. 180–81 Bedenbender, Andreas 6, 68 Begg, Christopher T. 181 Betz, Hans Dieter 7 Beyerle, Stefan 108, 141 Bockmuehl, Markus 141 Bogaert, Pierre 1, 120 Box, George H. 3, 11, 114, 140, 152, 183, 193, 196, 201 Boyarin, Daniel 145 Brandenburger, Egon 3, 5, 15, 19–20, 22, 24, 26, 29–30, 32, 33, 35–36, 37, 41–42, 149, 154, 155, 156, 163, 168, 170, 171, 173, 212 Brekelmans, Christianus 72 Brettler, Marc Z. 73 Breech, Earl 4, 19, 22–23, 24, 38, 40, 162, 205, 227 Brueggemann, Walter 232 Burke, David G. 71, 81, 82, 83, 84, 95 Burkes, Shannon 8, 31, 41, 75, 81, 90, 94, 97, 99, 102, 124, 211 Burkett, Delbert R. 189 Camp, Claudia 113 Carr, David M. 42, 95, 206, 219 Casey, Maurice 186, 187 Charles, Robert H. 11 Chazon, Esther G. 59 Claassens, L. Julianna M. 232 Clements, Ruth A. 8, 43 Clifford, Richard J. 187 Cohen, Gerson 153 Cohen, Shaye J. D. 224 Collins, Adela Yarbro 177 Collins, John J. 6, 7, 8, 32, 35, 38, 43, 44, 46, 49, 56–58, 64, 67, 76, 80, 86, 89, 90, 91, 97, 104, 119, 120, 121,

160, 179, 186, 187, 189, 196, 216, 221, 223, 227, 229, 230 Conzelmann, Hans 76 Cook, E. M. 196 Cook, Joan E. 41, 146 Coughenour, R. A. 68 Crenshaw, James L. 7–8, 42, 86, 96, 97, 107 Daschke, Dereck M. 31, 161, 163 Davies, Philip R. 223 Demsky, Aaron 42 Desjardins, Michel 192 DiLella, Alexander A. 74, 76, 86, 88, 90, 93, 97, 98, 216 Di Tommaso, Lorenzo 184–85 Dostevsky, Fyodor 102 Elgvin, Torleif 44, 46, 47, 49–50, 53, 54, 55, 56, 58–60, 61–62, 63, 65, 66, 67, 69, 70 Emerson, Caryl 101–102 Esler, Philip F. 227 Falk, Daniel K. 8, 43 Fishbane, Michael 6, 45, 72, 99, 160, 219 Fitzmyer, Joseph 188, 189, 196 Flannery-Dailey, Frances 31, 159, 167 Fletcher-Louis, Crispin H. T. 53, 63–64 Flint, Peter 44 Flusser, David 197 Fraade, Steven D. 105 Frey, Jörg 56 Gafni, Isaiah M. 224, 225 Gammie, John G. 7, 45, 99 García Martínez, Florentino 8, 43, 44, 47, 177, 197 Geller, Stephen A. 45, 73–74, 76, 80 Gerstenberger, Erhard S. 232 Gilbert, Maurice 77, 79 Ginzberg, Louis 217 Goff, Matthew 43, 44, 46, 48, 49–50, 51–52, 53, 54, 55, 56–58, 59, 60, 61, 62–63, 64, 65, 67, 70, 94, 124, 143

270

index of modern authors

Gottlieb, Isaac B. 99 Grabbe, Lester 223 Green, Barbara 101–102, 232 Gunkel, Hermann 3, 11, 21–22, 25, 27, 29, 32, 152, 174, 205 Hammer, Reuven 226 Hanson, Paul D. 5–6, 7, 223 Harnisch, Wolfgang 3, 5, 13, 14, 15–19, 20, 22, 23–24, 26, 29–30, 32, 33, 35–36, 41–42, 114, 149, 155, 212 Harrelson, Walter 13, 14, 81, 84, 164–65 Harrington, Daniel 42, 43, 44, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 56, 62, 64, 66, 67, 70–71, 133 Hartman, Lars 68 Hayman, A. Peter 23–25, 26, 37, 149, 186, 219 Heichelheim, Fritz M. 183 Hempel, Charlotte 8, 43 Hengel, Martin 43, 93, 223 Hermisson, Hans-Jürgen 110 Herms, Ronald 131 Herr, Moshe D. 153 Hogan, Karina Martin 113, 134, 212, 217 Holloway, Paul A. 161 Horsley, Richard A. 224 Humphrey, Edith McEwan 31, 102, 166, 175–76, 177 James, Montague R. 12 James, William 161 Japhet, Sara 220 Jeffries, Daryl F. 46 Jeremias, Joachim 195, 196 Jervell, Jacob 129, 138 Jonge, Marinus de 16 Justnes, Årstein 44 Kabisch, Richard 2, 3, 9–12, 21, 27, 152, 201 Kahn, Charles H. 4 Kaiser, Otto 93 Kaminka, Armand 217 Kampen, John 8, 43 Kautzsch, Emil 21 Kee, Howard C. 187, 224 Keulers, Joseph 27 Kierkegaard, Søren 38 Kim, Seyoon 197 Kirschner, Robert 225

Kister, Menahem 49, 63 Klein, Ralph W. 220 Klijn, Albertus F. J. 120, 145 Knibb, Michael A. 6, 7, 41, 67, 148, 174–75, 183, 185, 193, 194, 196, 200, 222, 225 Knowles, Michael P. 142, 206, 212 Kolarcik, Michael 113 Kraft, Robert A. 208, 210 Kugel, James L. 52 Kvanvig, Helge S. 187 Lacocque, André 181, 183 Lange, Armin 8, 43, 45, 46, 49–50, 53, 55–56, 65 Lee, Thomas R. 86 Lichtenberger, Hermann 8, 43 Liesen, Jan 94 Lerner, M. B. 99 Levinson, Bernard M. 72 Levison, John R. 57–58, 96, 112, 113, 114, 118, 119, 129 Longenecker, Bruce W. 4, 32–35, 36, 109, 129, 131, 135, 148, 162, 192, 194, 217, 224, 225 Mack, Burton L. 86–87, 88 Marböck, Johannes 76, 77, 78, 79–80, 90, 92 Martin, Dale M. 108 Mattila, Sharon Lea 93 Mayes, Andrew D. H. 73 Middendorp, Theophil 97 Millar, J. Gary 104 Miller, Patricia Cox 180 Miller, Patrick D. 87 Montefiore, Claude G. 2 Moore, Carey A. 72, 83, 84, 89, 176 Morson, Gary S. 101–102 Mulder, Otto 88 Müller, Hans-Peter 6 Müller, Ulrich B. 186–87 Mundle, W. 3 Murphy, Catherine M. 48 Murphy, Frederick J. 1, 7 Myers, Jacob M. 152, 162 Najman, Hindy 141, 208, 219 Neusner, Jacob 100, 153, 225 Newsom, Carol A. 4, 46, 101, 102, 232 Nickelsburg, George W. E. 8, 67, 68, 69, 71, 105 Niditch, Susan 219

index of modern authors Oesterley, W. O. E. 3, 11–13, 203 Olson, Dennis T. 104 Oppenheim, A. Leo 180 Overman, J. Andrew 224 Pakkala, Juha 219 Perdue, Leo 50, 88, 96, 110 Plöger, Otto 5–6, 223 Porter, Frank C. 114, 115 Porton, Gary G. 147–48, 171 Puech, Émile 63, 197 Rad, Gerhard von 5–7, 80, 86, 223 Rofé, Alexander 43 Rosenthal, Ferdinand 11 Rowland, Christopher 225 Rowley, H. H. 223 Saldarini, Anthony J. 71–72, 84, 95, 224 Sanders, E. P. 13–14, 32, 35, 36, 76, 84, 89, 96, 129, 143 Sanders, Jack T. 45, 86 Sayler, Gwendolyn B. 1 Schiffman, Lawrence H. 47 Schnabel, Eckhard J. 41, 76, 80, 140 Schofer, Jonathan 114, 115 Schuller, Eileen M. 8, 43 Schürer, Emil 152–53, 182, 183, 184 Sheppard, Gerald T. 72, 75, 77, 78, 79–80, 82, 83, 84, 90, 91, 92–93 Ska, Jean Louis 95 Skehan, Patrick W. 74, 76, 85–86, 88, 90, 93, 97, 98, 216 Smith, Jonathan Z. 7, 222–23 Sonnet, Jean-Pierre 72 Stegemann, Harmut 46, 47 Stemberger, Günter 226 Sterling, Gregory 8, 43, 58, 141 Stone, Michael E. 3, 7, 16, 26–31, 32, 38, 39, 41, 68, 69, 103, 104, 105, 106, 107, 108, 114, 118, 120, 122, 124, 128, 129, 132, 136, 137, 138, 139, 145–46, 147, 152, 161, 162, 163, 164, 165, 168, 169, 170, 171, 172, 174, 175, 176, 177, 179, 180, 183, 186, 187, 188, 190, 191, 192,

271

193, 194, 195, 196, 200, 201, 202, 203, 205, 206, 207, 208, 209, 210, 211, 212, 213, 215, 216, 218, 220, 221, 224, 225, 226, 227 Strack, Hermann L. 226 Striker, Gisela 141 Strugnell, John 42, 44, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 62, 64, 66, 67, 133 Sweet, Anne Marie 16 Tanzer, Sarah J. 8 Tennant, Frederick R. 112, 113 Thompson, Alden L. 25–26, 33, 127, 139, 148, 149 Tigchelaar, Eibert J. C. 46, 47, 51, 52, 53, 54, 59, 62, 63, 64, 177 Tiller, Patrick A. 54, 120–21 Tobin, Thomas H. 58 Tomasino, Anthony J. 181 Tromp, Johannes 16 Urbach, Efraim E.

114, 137

VanderKam, James C. 6, 44, 67, 68, 189 Vermès, Geza 181 Vielhauer, Philipp 223 Villiers, Pieter G. R. de 41, 103, 123 Violet, Bruno 26, 221 Volkmar, Gustav 183, 221 Wacholder, Ben Zion 44 Ward, Allen M. 183 Weinfeld, Moshe 72–73, 74, 75, 79 Werman, Cana 50, 55 Westermann, Claus 103 Wills, Lawrence M. 221 Winston, David 93 Woude, A. S. van der 181 Wright, Benjamin G., III 48, 88, 94, 100 Yeo, Cedric A.

183

Zimmerli, Walther 110, 195 Zimmermann, Johannes 197–98