Showing posts with label Daniel Abraham. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Daniel Abraham. Show all posts

Sunday 14 July 2024

Torah from Sinai or torah.dotcom? A cursory reading of the two curses

By Daniel Abraham and Shmuel Phillips

Ahead of a couple of days of heavy cheesecake-eating and festive reflections, this post addresses the passage of “tochachah” curses delivered at the conclusion of the sojourn at Sinai. There are in fact two such passages to be found within the Torah’s text, corresponding to both occasions on which the nation sealed a covenant with God. The first, in Leviticus 26, is identified by some commentaries as the “Scroll of the Covenant” that Moshe reads out to the nation at Sinai, while the second (Deuteronomy 28) is delivered as part of Moshe’s series of final speeches on the Plains of Moab.
While these admonitory passages in Leviticus 26 and Deuteronomy 28 bear a number of striking similarities, scholars such as Professor Marc Brettler (link below), argue that the differences between them are so stark, that they reflect the work of independent authors, at different times, each advancing their own theological agenda. As is typical of such claims of multiple authorship of the Bible, a close examination of the evidence cited in support reveals the weak and speculative foundations that these theories are built upon. We will examine some of his primary arguments before showing how his claims can be addressed more simply based on traditional Jewish sources.
Brettler begins by writing, 
The similar openings ואם לא תשמעו לי – “if you do not heed Me” and some common following terminology should not lull the reader into a false sense that the texts are similar.
However, this is an attempt to hastily gloss over and dismiss an abundance of highly significant similarities.
Importantly, the phraseology and content of the curses are often not only similar, but in some instances exactly the same. Both sections employ identical terms to describe the guarding and fulfilling God’s mitzvot. Both passages threaten “consumption and fever” “ּ שַּׁחֶ֣פֶת קַּדַּ֔חַת" (Lev. 26:16 and Deut.28:22) – the only times that these terms appear in the entire Bible. The two passages share numerous further strong similarities in content and language. For instance, both threaten that the skies and earth will become iron and copper, both speak of the Israelites being smitten before enemies, enemies eating their produce, land not producing crops, suffering through plagues and sword, sieges leading to famine and eating one’s own children, being exiled and subsequently living in terror with only a few remaining in the land.
In the face of the undeniable parallels of language and content, Brettler offers other avenues of argumentation to make his case:
The punishing God of Leviticus and Deuteronomy is also depicted differently. Leviticus’s God is anthropomorphic, in contrast to Deuteronomy, which depicts a non-anthropomorphic deity bringing about Israel’s punishment. In Leviticus 26, for example, God sets his face against Israel, וְנָתַתִּ֤י פָנַי֙ בָּכֶ֔ם (v. 17), walks with them, וְהָלַכְתִּ֧י (v. 24), and ultimately decides not to smell their offerings, וְלֹ֣א אָרִ֔יחַ בְּרֵ֖יחַ נִיחֹֽחֲכֶֽם (v. 31). This typifies P and H, but not D—beginning already in the Priestly Genesis 1:27, humanity is created in the divine image.
However, the analysis of the very same text by celebrated source critic Richard Elliot Friedman produces a conclusion which is diametrically opposed to that of Brettler. In Who Wrote the Bible? Friedman states emphatically:
in P there are no blatant anthropomorphisms. In JE, God walks in the garden of Eden, God personally makes Adam and Eve’s clothes. Personally closes Noah’s ark, smells Noah’s sacrifice, wrestles with Jacob, and speaks to Moses out of the burning bush. None of these things are in P.
In truth, the extreme positions staked out by both Brettler and Friedman are tenuous and mistaken. There are ample examples of anthropomorphisms in both the supposed “P” and “D” documents (see footnote below).
Brettler proceeds to contrast the nature of the covenant as depicted in the two passages:
in Deut 28, Israel fades away—as a result of Israel breaking the covenant, God is released from any obligations toward Israel, and then are destroyed, while Lev 26 suggests that this is impossible, for the covenant always remains in force.”
Key to Brettler’s assertion here is his rendering of the root “שָּׁמֵ֖ד” as implying a total and complete destruction of the Jewish people. Such an interpretation can be challenged on two counts. First it requires the Curses of Deuteronomy 28 to be read in total isolation from the two immediately following chapters which appear to contextualise (and even reference) these curses, reassuring Israel that no permanent destruction will ever be inflicted on it.
Secondly, a further passage – Deuteronomy 4:25-31 – features a brief summary of the curses from both Leviticus 26 and Deuteronomy 28. In this summary we see the word “שָּׁמֵ֖ד” employed in a context which unambiguously demonstrates that the threatened destruction will not be absolute or permanent. While the first verse states
I call heaven and earth this day to witness against you that you shall soon perish from the land that you are crossing the Jordan to possess; you shall not long endure in it, but shall be utterly wiped out (שמד).
This is immediately followed by a reassurance that the Jewish people will in fact repent, and eventually return to their land:
For the Lord your God is a compassionate God: He will not fail you nor will He let you perish; He will not forget the covenant which He made on oath with your fathers.
As opposed to Brettler’s fragile theorising, Judaism Reclaimed analyses the stylistic and dynamic distinctions between the two passages of Curses based on the insights of Rabbi S. R. Hirsch.
The language used to describe the sinners in the Leviticus Curses — “You have acted casually (bekeri) with me” and “break my covenant”— portrays a people which fails to recognise its relationship with God and despises His commandments. In particular, the oft-repeated term of keri (behaviour which ignores God’s existence) connotes a world view in which there is no practical role for God. The Torat Kohanim midrash strikes a note that is consistent with this tone, tracing through this passage a gradual religious decline that eventually leads to total 'kofar be'ikar' atheism.
God's response to His nation’s complete rejection of Him, in keeping with the principle of 'middah keneged middah' (“measure for measure”), is further disassociation: “I too will proceed to deal ‘casually’ (bekeri) with you”. This Leviticus passage was one of the last passages taught at Sinai before the nation began its journey towards the Promised Land.
In his commentary to parashat Beshalach, R' Hirsch demonstrates how the primary lesson being conveyed to the Jews at this early stage of their desert journey was the recognition that God's Providence covers the provision of everyday necessities such as food and water. This Providence is not limited to extraordinary national moments such as the Exodus and splitting of the sea. The corresponding passage of Curses in Leviticus therefore focuses on God’s response to the lack of belief in His involvement in everyday life and the nation’s regression towards complete denial of God.
By the time we reach Deuteronomy however, the nation has spent 40 years traversing the desert, absorbing lessons of Divine Providence. Moshe’s final lectures, which are recorded in the book of Devarim, are focused on preparing them for the challenges that lie ahead in the land of Israel: these challenges include implementation and observance of the Torah in a new setting where they will be surrounded by the allurements of Canaanite paganism. The Curses of Deuteronomy 28 contain no radical references to revocation of covenants: the nation’s relationship with God is never questioned. Rather, the focus is on the people listening to God and observing His specific commandments.
Correspondingly, the punishments listed in this passage make no mention of God repudiating His covenant with the Jewish People. Rather this far longer list of specific punishments is more nuanced and detailed, possibly to correspond in a “measure for measure” manner to the breaking of specific commandments.
Most telling, however, is the contrast between the conclusions of these two tochachot. The Mount Sinai passage, laced with ominous forewarnings that God will nullify His covenant with the Jewish people, needs the immediate and powerful reassurance that God will never actually forget His promises to the forefathers and their descendants. The second tochachah on the other hand, despite its dramatic threats of destruction and annihilation, does not insinuate that God's relationship with the Jews will ever end. No verses of consolation are therefore contained within it – though they can be inferred from subsequent passages within Deuteronomy.
As opposed to carving up and attributing the Torah’s text to multiple authors and agendas, this approach demonstrates that by being attuned and sensitive to the Torah’s internal dynamic and message one can understand apparent idiosyncrasies and inconsistencies as reflecting different stages of the Jewish people’s relationship with God.
Original Article by Marc Brettler here.
Selected examples of Anthropomorphism in Deuteronomy:
  • Arm and hand: Deut 4:34, 5:15
  • Finger: Deut 9:10
  • Eyes: Deut 11:129
  • God walking: Deut 23:15
  • God hears and sees: Deut. 26:6
  • Face: Deut 31:17, 18
First posted 16 May 2021, here.

Korach and source criticism: arguing about an argument

By Daniel Abraham and Shmuli Phillips

Parashat Korach is traditionally taught as an episode involving a challenge by a coalition of disputants to Moshe’s supreme authority over the Israelites in the desert. There is, however, a widely held belief within academic source criticism of the Torah that the story of Dathan, Abiram, and Korach is comprised of two independent narratives that were later combined. Typically, the first of these stories involves Dathan and Abiram, who challenge Moses for failing to bring them to the promised land. This story concludes with them and their households being swallowed into the ground. The second story tells of Korach and 250 men challenging Moses and Aaron’s positions of authority, and results in their being consumed by a fire from God. A close reading of this section of the Torah reveals that not only that the evidence for this supposed division is weak, but that there are in fact a number of strong counter-indications which point instead to the unity of the text.
Right: The Argument (here)
As is often the case with critical theories that attempt to separate the text into distinct narratives, there is a great deal of disagreement among the source critics themselves as to how such a separation might be performed. Some, such as David Carr , simply divide the story between P (priestly authorship) and unspecified non-P sources. Others, such as Richard Elliot Friedman divide Numbers 16 between “J” and “P”. A third group, including Joel Baden, divide the text up as “E” and “P”. Carr notes that “Baden diverges from many prior source-critics in assigning all of the non-P story of Dathan and Abiram's rebellion in Numbers 16 to E”. A further group of opinions, such as that held by David Frankel, breaks the story up into seven redactional layers. If such claims, in the absence of any actual material evidence, sound incredulous Carr comments, “Some have found evidence of eight to fifteen (or more) layers of sources and redactional expansions in a single chapter or set of verses. Yet I suggest that these more complicated reconstructions of textual prehistory have not stood and will not stand the test of time.” Like Moshe’s challengers, it would appear that these fractious critics stand together only in their opposition to the traditional notion of a single biblical Author.
One of the main arguments for this division involves the subsequent retelling of these events in Deuteronomy. There at verse 11:6 Moses recounts,
and what He did to Dathan and Abiram, sons of Eliab son of Reuben, when the earth opened her mouth and swallowed them, along with their households, their tents, and every living thing in their train, from amidst all Israel.
While Moshe mentions Dathan and Abiram he fails to mention Korach. Source critics will often assume that any possible discrepancies in the Torah must be a contradiction (except of course when such discrepancies are harmful to their source divisions, in which cases the critics develop some very creative, complex resolutions). In this case, the omission of Korach from the retelling of the narrative can be attributed to Moses wanting to strengthen the status of the loyal Levites – many of whom would have survived the desert years – as future leaders and teachers of the people, rather than running the risk of reigniting bygone grievances. The more personal challenges of Dathan, Abiram and the other protagonists, by contrast, are likely to have perished along with those who advanced them. Moses, in reminding the people of the results of such this earlier unsuccessful uprising, would have been considered as having administered an effective warning against future insurrections. Additionally, as Rabbi David Tzvi Hoffman suggests, Moses may have wanted to spare the sons of Korach, whom we are told survived the rebellion, from any embarrassment.
Rabbi Dr. Joshua Berman addresses the claims of source critics that relate to apparently inconsistent recounting of earlier episodes from a different perspective. Berman draws on examples of Ancient Near-Eastern texts such as Hittite treaties from the 13-14th century BCE to show how ancient literary style regularly included a retelling of history that involved omission of certain facts and a retelling of others. In many instances, such inconsistent retelling occurs within a text which is known to be the unified work of a single author, and is understood as a literary tool to emphasize and convey particular messages.
Another important source in the context of this discussion is Psalm 106:17,18, where we see a similar omission of Korach:
The earth opened up and swallowed Dathan, closed over the party of Abir׃ A fire blazed among their party, a flame that consumed the wicked.”
Once again we see a recounting of the story that only mentions Dathan and Abiram. Yet crucially we also find the author of this Psalm describing a fire burning up their congregation – an element of the episode that source critics relate specifically to Korach and not to Dathan and Abiram. Why would this passage also choose to omit any explicit reference to Korach? Perhaps again, to avoid embarrassment of the Levites, including the sons of Korah (some of them being authors of the Psalms) whom we know from archaeological finds were still around in Arad, 8th century BCE.
Dr. Ben Zion Katz demonstrates the textual unity of the Korach episode from a subsequent passage in the Book of Numbers, which clearly regards both Korach’s rebellion and that of the non-Levites as being part of a single challenge to Moshe’s position:
“when the daughters of Zelofchad complain to Moses about their lack of ability to inherit because of their gender (Numbers 27; P) they mention that their father was not a part of Korah’s rebellion (27:3). Yet Zelofchad was from the tribe of Menashe. He would not have been part of the rebellion of the Levite Korah against Aaron; he would have been in the rebellion of Datan and Abiram against Moses, and it would be extremely odd for source P to make this mistake.”
In response to those who question why the tribe of Reuben would have been associated with Korach and drawn into his alliance, it must be borne in mind that when camping in the desert, Korach and the Kohathites dwelt to the South of the Mishkan, as did the tribes of Reuben, Simeon, and Gad. This consistent close proximity would have allowed for such an alliance to form over time and thereby exposed these tribes to the complaints of Korach.
In conclusion, while the Korach narrative has gained acceptance and popularity among source critics as an important example of how individual stories were later combined in the Torah, persistent disagreement among critics themselves indicates that such theories are not at all self-evident. The counter-indications that we have offered from other biblical sources point strongly towards reading the rebellion as the action of a broad umbrella of malcontents, unified by their wish to unseat Moses, rather than as a carefully combined collection of independent challengers to Moses.
First posted on Facebook 13 June 2021, here.

Friday 12 July 2024

King Josiah and the secret Temple scroll

By Daniel Abraham and Shmuli Phillips

As discussed a few weeks ago on this group, the origin of the book of Deuteronomy has long been a matter of intense speculation and debate. This post will tackle a popular approach from academic bible critics, which attempts to trace Deuteronomy’s provenance to the religious revolution instituted by King Josiah towards the end of the First Temple era.
The young Judean king is raised in a religious void following the efforts of his predecessors to erase knowledge of Torah and Jewish beliefs from the nation. II Kings 22-23 describes how Josiah courtiers discover a Torah scroll (II Chronicles 34:14: “written by the hand of Moshe”) which had been concealed within the Temple. Josiah proceeds to read this “scroll of the covenant” publicly to his subjects before enthusiastically instituting its requirements.
Scholars point to the biblical passage describing Josiah’s reaction to reading the scroll, identifying a number of “Deuteronomic” words, phrases and themes. Various theories evolved from this identification, which proposed distinguishing between the book of Deuteronomy and the previous books of the Torah in terms of their functions, authorship and era. Some even went so far as to suggest that Deuteronomy – with its strong insistence on centralized worship and power – was a forgery, perpetrated by Josiah’s courtiers as part of a ruse to enhance the authority of the young king.
We will first address the claim that Josiah’s revolution reflects an exclusively Deuteronomic influence, before examining some of the broader theories of a fraudulent power-grab which sprouted up around it.
Josiah’s Scroll: From All Four Corners of the Bible
In Who Really Wrote the Bible?, Clayton Ford responds to the claim that Josiah’s revolution reflects a solely Deuteronomic theme by arguing that terms and ideas from all four supposed biblical sources can be found in the crucial passage of II Kings. While scholars draw upon common linguistic and legal themes in order to connect Josiah to “D”, he explains, the same kinds of arguments, however, prove that the book of the Torah must also have contained the other proposed J, E, and P sources too.

The discovered scroll is referred to in II Kings as "the Book of the Covenant." Near the end of his reform, Josiah commanded the people to "Keep the Passover to YHWH your Elohim, as it is written in this Book of the Covenant" (II Kings 23:21). At the beginning of his reform, when Josiah gathered the people to the temple, "he read in their ears all the words of the Book of the Covenant, which was found in the house of YHWH" (2 Kings 23:2). Aside from this episode, “the Book of the Covenant" appears in only one other place: “Then he [Moshe] took the Book of the Covenant and read it in the ears of the people” (Exodus 24:7). Scholars are in agreement that this verse originates from “E” – containing all of the laws of Exodus 21-23. Based on the methodology of the critics, therefore, the book which Hilkiah found must have contained E as well.
Furthermore, the description of Josiah’s reforms recounts how he "smashed the sacred monuments and cut down the Asherim [a type of idol]" (23:14). This directly replicates and fulfils a law found only in Exodus 34:13, a passage attributed by scholars to the “J” source: "You shall smash their sacred monuments and cut down their Asherim" (Deuteronomy 7:5 contains a similar though differently worded law). The alleged “P” source is also reflected in Josiah’s reaction to discovering the scroll, which describes how he prevented the priests who had sacrificed at the prohibited bamot (private altars) from officiating at the Temple in Jerusalem. Nevertheless, they still “ate unleavened bread among their brethren” (II Kings 23:8-9).
In The Exodus and Biblical Narrative, Richard Elliot Friedman himself notes how Josiah's treatment of these priests was similar to the treatment of the physically blemished priests proscribed by a law in “P”: "He may eat the bread of his God...only he shall not go near the curtain nor approach the altar, because he has a defect" (Lev. 21:22-23). The “P” source, he continues, may also have prevented Josiah from prohibiting priestly consumption of bread to those who had sinned since it commands “all the males among the children of Aaron may eat it. It shall be a statute forever in your generations" (Lev. 6:16, 18). Finally, the description of Josiah defiling Topheth so that “no man might make his son or his daughter pass through the fire to Molech" (2 Kings 23:10) closely reflects the language of Lev. 18:21).
Thus all four of the critics’ claimed biblical sources are reflected and well represented in the passage describing Josiah’s revolution.
Was Josiah Attempting to Centralize Sacrificial Worship?
Further academic theories have proposed more radical implications of the alleged special relationship between Deuteronomy and scroll of Josiah. One claim put forward in a variety of forms by bible critics over the last 150 years is that Josiah’s attempt to eradicate idolatry and bamot, was driven by the desire to consolidate power and assert control over the nation’s religious worship. His advisors, it is alleged, fraudulently composed the scroll and claimed to have found it hidden in the Temple.
The unique structure and content of the book of Deuteronomy — which we examined a few weeks ago— together with its injunctions not to offer sacrifices on private bamot, are taken by these critics to be evidence in support of this theory. While this idea has enjoyed widespread popularity among some bible scholars, Amnon Bazak, (To This Very Day) demonstrates that powerful questions against its credibility tend to be overlooked.
The first challenge questions the assumption that Judaism before the time of Josiah lacked any notion of centralised worship, and that no religious laws restricted private sacrifice. Support for this assumption is often premised on a verse shortly after the first recording of the Ten Commandments, which is taken to approve sacrifices in any place of the worshipper’s preference. A more careful reading of the verse however shows that this approval of sacrifices is limited to a place “asher azkir et Shemi — where I [God] allow My name to be mentioned”, which clearly implies a limitation. Furthermore, the Hebrew text contains a subtlety which does not translate easily and is therefore often overlooked. In the phrase “bechol hamakom asher azkir et shemi” the word makom (“place”) is prefixed by the heh hayediah (the Hebrew equivalent of the definite article, i.e. “the place”) which means, in effect, “any specific place in which I allow My name to be mentioned”.
In fact, many biblical sources point strongly to an earlier prohibition against the performance of sacrifices in private non-centralised locations. The details of the construction of the Mishkan in the desert are related at length by the Torah, as are the details of Shlomo’s construction of the first Mikdash – an indication of the importance placed on a place of centralised sacrifice. This is underlined by the prohibition (Lev. 17. 1-9) of the performance of any sacrifice (and at times even regular slaughter) outside the Mishkan’s perimeters Furthermore, in an episode towards the end of the book of Joshua (chap. 22), a misunderstanding brought the nation to the brink of civil war when the tribes of mainland Israel thought that their Transjordanian brethren were setting up their own altar to rival the centralized one.
Dating Deuteronomy
A closely-related question which arises from the suggestion that Deuteronomy was forged for political reasons by the courtiers of Josiah (or Hezekiah as others suggest) is the broader antiquity of the book. But is the content of Deuteronomy consistent with such a claim that it was authored in the late First Temple period?
Many scholars maintain that the book was the work of power-grabbing leadership who sought to centralize worship in Jerusalem. But were this to be true, it would be surprising that within the entire book of Deuteronomy there is not even a single instance of any mention by name of the capital.
If anything, the text appears delicately and deliberately to step around the word “Jerusalem”, substituting in its place the verbose and vague phrase “in the place in which God shall choose that His name shall dwell there” – a phrase which appears approximately 20 times throughout the book. While this phenomenon can be seen to support Jewish tradition that the Temple was just the latest and most impressive of the places of centralised worship, it deals a blow to the claim that a primary aim of the book of Deuteronomy was to focus on the central importance of this specific place.
Additionally, despite the existence of several mentions of the prohibition to sacrifice outside the permitted place(s), it is far-fetched to imagine that it constitutes the primary or even a central theme of the book of Deuteronomy. Instead, Deuteronomy places far greater emphasis on avoiding the temptations of idolatry, the establishment of effective institutions in the Land and appropriate preparations for upcoming battle with the Canaanite nations.
A broader look at the book of Deuteronomy reveals that, if its composition was dated to the era of the later kings, this would render much of its content both anachronistic and absurd. The entire context and tone of Deuteronomy is fundamentally suited to a nation being addressed by Moshe on the cusp of its entry into the Land of Israel. Politically, Deuteronomy (23:8) regards the nation of Edom favourably, as a ‘brotherly’ nation not to be “rejected”. The reality in the era of Josiah, however, was that Edom had become a bitter enemy of the Jewish people, with whom it had fought several severe battles. It is indeed hard to imagine a book composed in Josiah’s times viewing the nation of Edom in such a positive light; however, this position is entirely consonant with the more peaceful attitude towards Edom displayed by Moshe in Numbers (20:14-21), where God instructed him to detour rather than trespass and provoke the Edomites.
The wars of conquest which are envisaged and legislated for in the book of Deuteronomy are well suited to a nation posed to embark on an invasion. Such descriptions, however, are profoundly incongruous with the political reality of Josiah’s era in which, it is alleged, they were composed — an era in which the tiny Judaean state was struggling to exist alongside the regional Assyrian and Babylonian superpowers. Furthermore, there is no hint in the entire book of Deuteronomy of the serious rupture which had taken place among the Jewish people, splitting it into two separate kingdoms, one of which had recently been defeated and exiled. The fundamental incompatibility of the content of much of the book of Deuteronomy with Josiah’s era was conceded by Richard Elliot Friedman, Who Wrote the Bible? p 120, who considered that: “The laws of war in the book of Deuteronomy, therefore…suggest an early, nonmonarchic point of view”. Friedman also argues that the type of conscripted armies described in Deuteronomy had been entirely replaced by professional armies by the time of the later kings such as Josiah.
Finally, if the primary agenda motivating the composition of the book of Deuteronomy was truly to expand the authority of the monarch by centralising religious worship in Jerusalem, it is extraordinary that this scroll in fact limited monarchy in a way which was unique among ancient cultures. The concept of a limited monarchy was a contradiction in terms in ancient Eastern cultures. It is an unfathomable proposition that a king, setting out to compose a fraudulent document in order to broaden his power, would include such a passage – which sets limits to his glory and places him within rather than above the law as was the norm in Josiah’s era.
First posted on Facebook 8 August 2021, here.

Reasons for mitzvot: the hidden and revealed

In one particularly mysterious verse from yesterday’s Torah reading we are told “The hidden matters are for Hashem our God, and the revealed...