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Is There a Text in This Cave?

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Studies on the Texts of the
Desert of Judah

Edited by

George J. Brooke

Associate Editors

Eibert J.C. Tigchelaar

Jonathan Ben-Dov
Alison Schofield

VOLUME 119

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 Is There a Text in This Cave?
Studies in the Textuality of the Dead Sea Scrolls
in Honour of George J. Brooke

Edited by

Ariel Feldman
Maria Cioată
Charlotte Hempel

LEIDEN | BOSTON

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Brooke, George J., honouree. | Feldman, Ariel, 1974– editor.

Title: Is there a text in this cave? : studies in the textuality of the Dead
 Sea Scrolls in honour of George J. Brooke / edited by Ariel Feldman, Maria
 Cioata, and Charlotte Hempel.
Description: Leiden ; Boston : Brill, 2017. | Series: Studies on the texts of
 the desert of Judah, ISSN 0169-9962 ; VOLUME 119 | Includes
 bibliographical references and index.
Identifiers: LCCN 2017004749 (print) | LCCN 2017014407 (ebook) | ISBN
 9789004344532 (E-book) | ISBN 9789004344525 (hardback : alk. paper)
Subjects: LCSH: Dead Sea scrolls.
Classification: LCC BM487 (ebook) | LCC BM487 .I72 2017 (print) | DDC
 296.1/55—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017004749

Typeface for the Latin, Greek, and Cyrillic scripts: “Brill”. See and download: brill.com/brill-typeface.

issn 0169-9962
isbn 978-90-04-34452-5 (hardback)
isbn 978-90-04-34453-2 (e-book)

Copyright 2017 by Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, The Netherlands.

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Contents

Abbreviations Including Frequently Cited Sources IX

Bibliography of the Writings of George J. Brooke xvi
List of Contributors xxxviii

Introduction 1
Ariel Feldman, Maria Cioată, and Charlotte Hempel

PART 1
Is There a Text in This Cave?

Are There Sacred Texts in Qumran? The Concept of Sacred Text in Light of
the Qumran Collection 21
Hanne von Weissenberg and Elisa Uusimäki

Textual Authority and the Problem of the Biblical Canon at Qumran 42

Philip S. Alexander

Reflections on Literacy, Textuality, and Community in the Qumran Dead

Sea Scrolls 69
Charlotte Hempel

Scribal Bodies as Liturgical Bodies: The Formation of Scriptures in Early

Judaism 83
Judith H. Newman

Qumran Cave 4: Its Archaeology and its Manuscript Collection 105

Sidnie White Crawford

PART 2
Fresh Perspectives on Fragmentary Scrolls

Un nouveau manuscrit de Daniel : 4QDnf = 4Q116a 123

Émile Puech
vi Contents

4Q341: A Writing Exercise Remembered 133

Joan E. Taylor

4Q47 (4QJosha): An Abbreviated Text? 152

Ariel Feldman

Memories of Amalek (4Q252 4:1–3): The Imprecatory Function of the

Edomite Genealogy in the Dead Sea Scrolls 164
Kipp Davis

PART 3
Reading Texts within Texts

Texts within Texts: The Text of Jeremiah in the Exegetical Literature from
Qumran 187
Armin Lange

Text, Intertext, and Conceptual Identity: The Case of Ephraim and the
Seekers of Smooth Things 209
Matthew A. Collins

Strangers to the “Biblical Scrolls”: Balaam’s Fourth Oracle (Num 24:15–19)

and its Links to Other Unique Excerpted Texts 226
Helen R. Jacobus

Deriving Negative Anthropology through Exegetical Activity: The Hodayot

as Case Study 258
Carol A. Newsom

Part 4
Texts, Scribes, and Textual Growth

The Tefillin from the Judean Desert and the Textual Criticism of the
Hebrew Bible 277
Emanuel Tov
Contents vii

Dittography and Copying Lines in the Dead Sea Scrolls: Considering George
Brooke’s Proposal about 1QpHab 7:1–2 293
Eibert Tigchelaar

Pseudepigraphy and a Scribal Sense of the Past in the Ancient

Mediterranean: A Copy of the Book of the Words of the Vision of
Amram 308
Mladen Popović

The Textual Growth of the Damascus Document Revisited 319

Philip R. Davies

Medieval Hebrew Tellings of Tobit: “Versions” of the Book of Tobit or New

Texts? 334
Maria Cioată

Part 5
Old Texts, New Insights

Some Thoughts on the Relationship between the Book of Jubilees and the
Genesis Apocryphon 371
James C. VanderKam

Tobit and the Qumran Aramaic Texts 385

Devorah Dimant

Metaphor and Eschatology: Life beyond Death in the Hodayot 407

John J. Collins

The Book of HGY and Ancient Reading Practices 423

Jonathan Ben-Dov

Ritualization and the Power of Listing in 4QBerakhota (4Q286) 438

Jutta Jokiranta

Jewish Wisdom in the Hellenistic Period: Towards the Study of a Semantic

Constellation 459
Hindy Najman
viii Contents

In the Garden of Good and Evil: Reimagining a Tradition (Sir 17:1–14, 4Q303,
4QInstruction, 1QS 4:25–26, and 1QSa 1:10–11) 473
Jean-Sébastien Rey

How Should We Feel about the Teacher of Righteousness? 493

Angela Kim Harkins

The Teacher of Righteousness and His Enemies 515

Reinhard G. Kratz

Index of Ancient Sources 533

Index of Subjects 551
Abbreviations Including Frequently Cited Sources

AB Anchor Bible
ABD Anchor Bible Dictionary. Edited by David Noel Freedman. 6 vols. New York:
Doubleday, 1992
AHAW Abhandlungen der Heidelberger Akademie der Wissenschaften
AJSR Association for Jewish Studies Review
AMD Ancient Magic and Divination
ANYAS Annals of the New York Academy of Sciences
AOAT Alter Orient und Altes Testament
APOT The Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha of the Old Testament. Edited by Robert
H. Charles. 2 vols. Oxford: Clarendon, 1913
AS Aramaic Studies
AYBRL Anchor Yale Bible Reference Library
BAIAS Bulletin of the Anglo-Israel Archaeological Society
BAR Biblical Archaeology Review
BASOR Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research
BBB Bonner biblische Beiträge
BDB Francis Brown, S.R. Driver, and Charles A. Briggs, The Brown-Driver-Briggs
Hebrew and English Lexicon of the Old Testament. Based on the Lexicon of
William Gesenius. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1994
BETL Bibliotheca Ephemeridum Theologicarum Lovaniensium
BIAC Bulletin of the Institute for Antiquity and Christianity
BHT Beiträge zur historischen Theologie
BibOr Biblica et Orientalia
BJRL Bulletin of the John Rylands Library
BJS Brown Judaic Studies
BQ Biblia Qumranica
BZAW Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft
BZNW Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die neutestamentliche Wissenschaft
CahRB Cahiers de la Révue Biblique
CBE Contributions to Biblical Exegesis
CBET Contributions to Biblical Exegesis and Theology
CBQ Catholic Biblical Quarterly
CEJL Commentaries on Early Jewish Literature
CM Cuneiform Monographs
CQ The Classical Quarterly
CQS Companion to the Qumran Scrolls
x Abbreviations Including Frequently Cited Sources

CRINT Compendia Rerum Iudaicarum ad Novum Testamentum

CSCO Corpus Scriptorum Christianorum Orientalium
CurBS Currents in Research: Biblical Studies
DCH Dictionary of Classical Hebrew. Edited by David J.A. Clines. 9 vols. Sheffield:
Sheffield Phoenix, 1993–2014
DCLS Deuterocanonical and Cognate Literature Studies
DJD 1 Dominique Barthélemy and Józef T. Milik, Qumran Cave 1. DJD 1. Oxford:
Clarendon, 1955
DJD 2 Pierre Benoit et al., Les grottes de Murabbaʿât. DJD 2. Oxford: Clarendon,
1961
DJD 3 Maurice Baillet et al., Les ‘petites grottes’ de Qumrân. DJD 3. Oxford:
Clarendon, 1962
DJD 4 James A. Sanders, The Psalms Scroll of Qumrân Cave 11 (11QPsalmsa). DJD 4.
Oxford: Clarendon, 1965
DJD 5 John M. Allegro with Arnold A. Anderson, Qumrân Cave 4.I (4Q158–4Q186).
DJD 5. Oxford: Clarendon, 1968
DJD 6 Roland de Vaux and Józef T. Milik, Qumrân Cave 4.2: I. Archéologie, II.
Tefilllin, Mezuzot et Targums (4Q128–4Q157). DJD 6. Oxford: Clarendon, 1977
DJD 7 Maurice Baillet, Qumrân Grotte 4.3 (4Q482–4Q520). DJD 7. Oxford:
Clarendon, 1982
DJD 10 Elisha Qimron and John Strugnell, Qumran Cave 4.V: Miqṣat Ma‛aśe ha-
Torah. DJD 10. Oxford: Clarendon, 1994
DJD 13 Harold Attridge et al., Qumran Cave 4.VIII: Parabiblical Texts, Part 1. DJD 13.
Oxford: Clarendon, 1994
DJD 14 Eugene Ulrich et al., Qumran Cave 4.IX: Deuteronomy, Joshua, Judges, Kings.
DJD 14. Oxford: Clarendon, 1995
DJD 17 Frank M. Cross et al., Qumran Cave 4.XII: 1–2 Samuel. DJD 17. Oxford:
Clarendon, 2005
DJD 18 Joseph M. Baumgarten, Qumran Cave 4.XIII: The Damascus Document
(4Q266–4Q273). DJD 18. Oxford: Clarendon, 1996
DJD 19 Magen Broshi et al., Qumran Cave 4.XIV: Parabiblical Texts, Part 2. DJD 19.
Oxford: Clarendon, 1995
DJD 20 Torleif Elgvin et al., Qumran Cave 4.XV: Sapiential Texts, Part 1. DJD 20.
Oxford: Clarendon, 1997
DJD 21 Shemaryahu Talmon, Jonathan Ben-Dov, and Uwe Glessmer, Qumran Cave
4.XVI: Calendrical Texts. DJD 21. Oxford: Clarendon, 2001
DJD 22 George J. Brooke et al., Qumran Cave 4.XVII: Parabiblical Texts, Part 3.
DJD 22. Oxford: Clarendon, 1996
DJD 23 Florentino García Martínez et al., Qumran Cave 11.II: 11Q2–18, 11Q20–31. DJD
23. Oxford: Clarendon, 1998
Abbreviations Including Frequently Cited Sources xi

DJD 25 Émile Puech, Qumran Cave 4.XVIII: Textes hébreux (4Q521–4Q528, 4Q576–
4Q579). DJD 25. Oxford: Clarendon, 1998
DJD 26 Philip S. Alexander and Geza Vermes, Qumran Cave 4.XIX: Serekh Ha-Yaḥad
and Two Related Texts. DJD 26. Oxford: Clarendon, 1998
DJD 27 Hannah Cotton and Ada Yardeni, Aramaic, Hebrew and Greek Documentary
Texts from Naḥal Ḥever and Other Sites. DJD 27. Oxford: Clarendon, 1997
DJD 28 Douglas M. Gropp et al., Wadi Daliyeh II: The Samaria Papyri from Wadi
Daliyeh and Qumran Cave 4.XXVIII: Miscellanea, Part 2. DJD 28. Oxford:
Clarendon, 2001
DJD 29 Esther Chazon et al., Qumran Cave 4.XX: Poetical and Liturgical Texts, Part
2. DJD 29. Oxford: Clarendon, 1999
DJD 30 Devorah Dimant, Qumran Cave 4.XXI: Parabiblical Texts, Part 4: Pseudo-
Prophetic Texts. DJD 30. Oxford: Clarendon, 2001
DJD 35 Joseph M. Baumgarten, Qumran Cave 4.XXV: Halakhic Texts. DJD 35.
Oxford: Clarendon, 1999
DJD 36 Stephen J. Pfann, Qumran Cave 4.XXVI: Cryptic Texts; Philip S. Alexander et
al., Miscellanea, Part 1. DJD 36. Oxford: Clarendon, 2000
DJD 37 Émile Puech, Qumran Cave 4.XXVII: Textes araméens, deuxième partie:
4Q550–575. DJD 37. Oxford: Clarendon, 2008
DJD 38 James H. Charlesworth et al., Miscellaneous Texts from the Judaean Desert.
DJD 38. Oxford: Clarendon, 2000
DJD 39 The Texts from the Judaean Desert: Indices and an Introduction to the
Discoveries in the Judaean Desert Series. Edited by Emanuel Tov. DJD 39.
Oxford: Clarendon, 2002
DJD 40 Carol Newsom, Hartmut Stegemann, and Eileen Schuller, Qumran Cave
1.III: 1QHodayota, with Incorporation of 4QHodayota-f and 1QHodayotb. DJD
40. Oxford: Clarendon, 2009
DSD Dead Sea Discoveries
DSSSE The Dead Sea Scrolls Study Edition. Edited by Florentino García Martínez
and Eibert J.C. Tigchelaar. 2 vols. Leiden: Brill, 1998
EBib Études Bibliques
EBR Encyclopedia of the Bible and Its Reception. Edited by Christine Helmer et
al. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2009–
ECCA Early Christianity in the Context of Antiquity
ECL Early Christianity and its Literature
ECRW Early Christianity in the Roman World
EDSS Encyclopedia of the Dead Sea Scrolls. Edited by Lawrence H. Schiffman and
James C. VanderKam. 2 vols. New York: Oxford University Press, 2000
ET Expository Times
FAT Forschungen zum Alten Testament
xii Abbreviations Including Frequently Cited Sources

FFC Folklore Fellows Communications

FOPTL Formation and Interpretation of Old Testament Literature
FRLANT Forschungen zur Religion und Literatur des Alten und Neuen Testaments
GBS Grove Biblical Series
GRBS Greek, Roman and Byzantine Studies
HALOT The Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament. Ludwig Koehler,
Walter Baumgartner, and Johann J. Stamm. Translated and edited under
the supervision of Mervyn E.J. Richardson. 4 vols. Leiden: Brill, 1994–1999
HBM Hebrew Bible Monographs
HBS Herders Biblische Studien
HeBAI Hebrew Bible and Ancient Israel
Hen Henoch
HSCP Harvard Studies in Classical Philology
HSM Harvard Semitic Monographs
HTS Harvard Theological Studies
HUCA Hebrew Union College Annual
IEJ Israel Exploration Journal
JAL Jewish Apocryphal Literature
JAJSup Journal of Ancient Judaism Supplements
JAOS Journal of the American Oriental Society
JBL Journal of Biblical Literature
JCS Journal of Cuneiform Studies
JGRChJ Journal of Greco-Roman Christianity and Judaism
JHS Journal of Hebrew Scriptures
JJS Journal of Jewish Studies
JNES Journal of Near Eastern Studies
JPS Jewish Publication Society
JQR Jewish Quarterly Review
JRS Journal of Roman Studies
JS Journal for Semitics
JSHRZ Jüdische Schriften aus Hellenistisch-Römischer Zeit
JSJ Journal for the Study of Judaism in the Persian, Hellenistic, and Roman
Period
JSJSup Journal for the Study of Judaism in the Persian, Hellenistic, and Roman
Period Supplement Series
JSNTSup Journal for the Study of the New Testament Supplement Series
JSOT Journal for the Study of the Old Testament
JSOTSup Journal for the Study of the Old Testament Supplement Series
JSP Journal for the Study of the Pseudepigrapha
Abbreviations Including Frequently Cited Sources xiii

JSPSup Journal for the Study of the Pseudepigrapha Supplement Series

JSS Journal of Semitic Studies
JSSSup Journal of Semitic Studies Supplement Series
LCL Loeb Classical Library
LHBOTS Library of Hebrew Bible/Old Testament Studies
LSTS Library of Second Temple Studies
MdB Le Monde de la Bible
MC Modern Churchman
NETS A New English Translation of the Septuagint. Edited by Albert Pietersma
and Benjamin G. Wright. New York: Oxford University Press, 2007
NTOA.SA Novum Testamentum et Orbis Antiquus, Series Archaeologica
NTS New Testament Studies
OBO Orbis Biblicus et Orientalis
OLA Orientalia Lovaniensia Analecta
OTP The Old Testament Pseudepigrapha. Edited by James H. Charlesworth. 2
vols. Garden City: Doubleday, 1983–1985
OTS Oudtestamentische Studiën
PF Papyrologica Florentina
PFES Publications of the Finnish Exegetical Society
PIRSB Publications de l’institut romand des sciences bibliques
PTSDSSP 1 The Dead Sea Scrolls: Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek Texts with English
Translations, Volume 1: Rule of the Community and Related Documents.
Edited by James H. Charlesworth et al. PTSDSSP 1. Louisville:
Westminster John Knox; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1994
PTSDSSP 2 The Dead Sea Scrolls: Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek Texts with English
Translations, Volume 2: Damascus Document, War Scroll and Related
Documents. Edited by James H. Charlesworth et al. PTSDSSP 2.
Louisville: Westminster John Knox; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1995
PTSDSSP 3 The Dead Sea Scrolls: Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek Texts with English
Translations, Volume 3: Damascus Document II, Some Works of the Torah
and Related Documents. Edited by James H. Charlesworth et al. PTSDSSP
3. Louisville: Westminster John Knox; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2006
PTSDSSP 4A The Dead Sea Scrolls: Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek Texts with English
Translations, Volume 4A: Pseudepigraphic and Non-Masoretic Psalms
and Prayers. Edited by James H. Charlesworth et al. PTSDSSP 4A.
Louisville: Westminster John Knox; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1997
PTSDSSP 4B The Dead Sea Scrolls: Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek Texts with English
Translations, Volume 4B: Angelic Liturgy: Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice.
Edited by James H. Charlesworth et al. PTSDSSP 4B. Louisville:
Westminster John Knox; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1999
xiv Abbreviations Including Frequently Cited Sources

PTSDSSP 6B The Dead Sea Scrolls: Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek Texts with English
Translations, Volume 6B: Pesharim, Other Commentaries and Related
Documents. Edited by James H. Charlesworth et al. PTSDSSP 6B.
Louisville: Westminster John Knox; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2002
QC The Qumran Chronicle
RB Revue biblique
RevQ Revue de Qumrân
RivB Rivista biblica italiana
SB Scripture Bulletin
SBL Society of Biblical Literature
SBLDS Society of Biblical Literature Dissertation Series
SBLEJL Society of Biblical Literature Early Judaism and Its Literature
SBLMS Society of Biblical Literature Monograph Series
SBLSCSS Society of Biblical Literature Septuagint and Cognate Studies Series
SBLSP Society of Biblical Literature Seminar Papers
SCS Septuagint Commentary Series.
SDSSRL Studies in the Dead Sea Scrolls and Related Literature
SF Studia Fennica
ScrHier Scripta Hierosolymitana
SIJD Schriften des Institutum Judaicum Delitzschianum
ST Suppléments à Transeuphratène
STDJ Studies on the Texts of the Desert of Judah
STR Studies in Theology and Religion
SUNT Studien zur Umwelt des Neuen Testament
SVTG Septuaginta Vetus Testamentum Graecum
SVTP Studia in Veteris Testamenti Pseudepigrapha
TBN Themes in Biblical Narrative
TDOT  Theological Dictionary of the Old Testament. Edited by G. Johannes
Botterweck and Helmer Ringgren. Translated by John T. Willis et al. 8
vols. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1974–2006
TSAJ Texte und Studien zum Antiken Judentum
TWQ  Theologisches Wörterbuch zu den Qumrantexten. Edited by Heinz-Josef
Fabry and Ulrich Dahmen. 3 vols. Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 2011–2016
UBL Ugaritisch–Biblische Literatur
UF Ugarit-Forschungen
VT Vetus Testamentum
VTG Vetus Testamentum Graecum
VTSup Vetus Testamentum Supplements
WUNT Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament
Abbreviations Including Frequently Cited Sources xv

WLAW Wisdom Literature from the Ancient World

ZAC Zeitschrift für Antikes Christentum/Journal of Ancient Christianity
ZAW Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft
Bibliography of the Writings of George J. Brooke

The following does not include scholarly reviews. Popular items of various
lengths have been included because they demonstrate the honouree’s com-
mitment to engagement with a wider audience.

1974

“Religious Studies Through Art,” Learning for Living 14 (1974): 56, 65–67.

1979

“The Textual, Formal, and Historical Significance of Ugaritic Letter RS 34.124

(KTU 2.72),” Ugarit-Forschungen 11 (1979): 69–87.

1980

“The Amos-Numbers Midrash (CD 7:13b–8:1a) and Messianic Expectation,”

ZAW 92 (1980): 397–404.
“The Lord’s Prayer Interpreted Through John and Paul,” Downside Review 98
(1980): 298–311.

1981

“Qumran Pesher: Towards the Redefinition of a Genre,” RevQ 10 (1979–81):

483–503.

1984

“The Feast of New Wine and the Question of Fasting,” ET 95 (1984): 175–76.
Bibliography Of The Writings Of George J. Brooke xvii

1985

Exegesis at Qumran: 4QFlorilegium in Its Jewish Context. JSOTSup 29. Sheffield:

JSOT Press, 1985. Repr. Atlanta: SBL Press, 2006.

1987

“Bibliography of the Writings of William Hugh Brownlee,” in Early Jewish and

Christian Exegesis: Studies in Memory of William Hugh Brownlee. Edited by
Craig A. Evans and William F. Stinespring. Scholars Press Homage Series 10.
Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1987, xv–xxii.
“The Biblical Texts in the Qumran Commentaries: Scribal Errors or Exegetical
Variants?” ibid., 85–100.
“Creation in the Biblical Tradition,” Zygon: Journal for Religion and Science 22
(1987): 227–48.

1988

“The Temple Scroll: A Law unto Itself?” in Law and Religion: Essays on the
Place of the Law in Israel and Early Christianity. Edited by Barnabas Lindars.
Cambridge: James Clarke, 1988, 34–43.
“Christ and the Law in John 7–10,” ibid., 102–12.
“The Temple Scroll and the Archaeology of Qumran, ‘Ain Feshkha and Masada,”
RevQ 13 (1988): 225–37.

1989

“History and Hermeneutics at Qumran,” BIAC 16/3 (1989): 9–11.

Temple Scroll Studies: Papers Presented at the International Symposium on the
Temple Scroll (Manchester, December 1987). Edited by George J. Brooke.
JSPSup 7. Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1989.
“The Temple Scroll and the New Testament,” ibid., 181–99.
“The Wisdom of Matthew’s Beatitudes (4QBeat and Mt. 5:3–12),” SB 19 (1989):
35–41.
xviii Bibliography of the Writings of George J. Brooke

1990

“Dead Sea Scrolls,” “Florilegia,” “Pesher,” in Dictionary of Biblical Interpretation.

Edited by Richard J. Coggins and James Leslie Houlden. London: SCM/
Philadelphia: Trinity Press International, 1990, 166–70, 235–37, 531–32.
“Laos: A Biblical Perspective for a Theology of ‘The People of God’,” MC 32/3
(1990): 32–40.
“Levi and the Levites in the Dead Sea Scrolls and the New Testament,” QC 1/1
(1990): 24–26.
“Psalms 105 and 106 at Qumran,” RevQ 14 (1989–90): 267–92.

1991

“Basilides,” “Carpocrates,” “Cerinthus,” “Heracleon,” “John the Baptist,” “Simon

Magus,” “Theodotus,” “Valentinus,” in Who’s Who of World Religions. Edited
by John H. Hinnells. London: Macmillan, 1991, 47–48, 75, 76, 151, 194–95, 379,
405–6, 426–27.
“Leviticus 1 and Reader Ministry,” The Reader 88 (1991): 86–88.
The Allegro Qumran Collection: Supplement to the Dead Sea Scrolls on Microfiche
in collaboration with Helen K. Bond. Leiden: Brill/IDC, 1996.
“The Kittim in the Qumran Pesharim,” in Images of Empire. Edited by Loveday
C.A. Alexander. JSOTSup 122. Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1991, 135–59.
“The Significance of the Kings in 4QMMT,” QC 1/2–3 (1991): 109–13.

1992

“Florilegium (4QFlor),” “Melchizedek (11QMelch),” “Testimonia (4QTest),” in

The Anchor Bible Dictionary. Edited by David N. Freedman et al. Garden City:
Doubleday, 1992, 2:817–18, 4:687–88, 6:391–92.
“The Messiah of Aaron in the Damascus Document,” RevQ 15 (1991–92): 215–30.
Septuagint, Scrolls and Cognate Writings: Papers Presented to the International
Symposium on the Septuagint and Its Relations to the Dead Sea Scrolls and
Other Writings (Manchester, 1990). Edited by Barnabas Lindars and George J.
Brooke. SBLSCSS 33. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1992.
“The Temple Scroll and LXX Exodus 35–40,” ibid., 81–106.
“The Temple Scroll and Recently Published Texts of the Pentateuch,” in The
Dead Sea Scrolls: Forty Years of Research. Edited by Devorah Dimant and
Bibliography Of The Writings Of George J. Brooke xix

Uriel Rappaport. STDJ 10. Leiden: Brill; Jerusalem: Magnes and Yad Izhak
Ben-Zvi, 1992, 261–82.
Women in the Biblical Tradition. Edited by George J. Brooke. Studies in Women
and Religion 31. Lewiston, Queenston, Lampeter: Mellen, 1992.
“Susanna and Paradise Regained,” ibid., 92–111.

1993

“4QTestament of Levid(?) and the Messianic Servant High Priest,” in From Jesus
to John: Essays on Jesus and New Testament Christology in Honour of Marinus
de Jonge. Edited by Martinus C. de Boer. JSNTSup 84. Sheffield: Sheffield
Academic, 1993, 83–100.
“Ezekiel in Some Qumran and New Testament Texts,” in The Madrid Qumran
Congress: Proceedings of the International Congress on the Dead Sea Scrolls,
Madrid 18–21, March 1991. Edited by Julio Trebolle Barrera and Luis Vegas
Montaner. STDJ 11. Leiden: Brill; Madrid: Universidad Complutense, 1993,
1:317–37.
“Levi and the Levites in the Dead Sea Scrolls and the New Testament,” in
Mogilany 1989: Papers on the Dead Sea Scrolls Offered in Memory of Jean
Carmignac: Part I. Edited by Zdzisław J. Kapera. Qumranica Mogilanensia 2.
Kraków: Enigma, 1993, 105–29.
“Qumran and Its Scrolls: Old Issues and New Texts,” BAIAS 12 (1992–93): 84–86.
“The Polemics of the Qumran Phylacteries,” Sprawozdania z Posiedzeń Komisji
Naukowych 35/1–2 (1993): 68–70. Reprinted in QC 3/1–3 (1993): 41–43.
“Torah in the Qumran Scrolls,” in Bibel in jüdischer und christlicher Tradition:
Festschrift für Johann Maier. Edited by Helmut Merklein, Karlheinz Müller,
and Günter Stemberger. BBB 88. Frankfurt: Anton Hain, 1993, 97–120.

1994

“1990 Manchester Symposium on the Septuagint, the Scrolls and Other

Writings,” QC 4/1–2 (1994): 91–92.
“4Q254 Fragments 1 and 4, and 4Q254a: Some Preliminary Comments,” in
Proceedings of the 11th World Congress of Jewish Studies: Division A: The Bible
and Its World. Jerusalem: World Union of Jewish Studies, 1994, 185–92.
New Qumran Texts and Studies: Proceedings of the First Meeting of the
International Organization for Qumran Studies, Paris 1992. Edited by George
xx Bibliography of the Writings of George J. Brooke

J. Brooke with the assistance of Florentino García Martínez. STDJ 15. Leiden:
Brill, 1994.
“Isaiah 40:3 and the Wilderness Community,” ibid., 117–32.
“Power to the Powerless: A Long-Lost Song of Miriam,” BAR 20/3 (May/June
1994): 62–65.
“The Dead Sea Scrolls: Is there a Cover up?” Common Ground (1994/1): 16–19.
“The Deuteronomic Character of 4Q252,” in Pursuing the Text: Studies in Honor
of Ben Zion Wacholder on the Occasion of his Seventieth Birthday. Edited by
John Kampen and John C. Reeves. JSOTSup 184. Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1994,
121–35.
“The Genre of 4Q252: From Poetry to Pesher,” DSD 1 (1994): 160–79.
“The Pesharim and the Origin of the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in Methods of
Investigation of the Dead Sea Scrolls and the Khirbet Qumran Site: Present
Realities and Future Prospects. Edited by Michael O. Wise et al. ANYAS 722.
New York: New York Academy of Sciences, 1994, 339–54.
Ugarit and the Bible: Proceedings of the International Symposium on Ugarit and
the Bible, Manchester, September 1992. Edited by George J. Brooke, Adrian
H.W. Curtis, and John F. Healey. UBL 11. Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, 1994.
With James M. Robinson, “A Further Fragment of 1QSb: The Schøyen Collection
MS 1909,” in Institute for Antiquity and Christianity Occasional Papers No. 30.
Claremont: Institute for Antiquity and Christianity, 1994, 19 (available at
http://ccdl.libraries.claremont.edu/).

1995

“4Q253: A Preliminary Edition,” JSS 40 (1995): 227–39.

“4Q500 1 and the Use of Scripture in the Parable of the Vineyard,” DSD 2 (1995):
268–94.
“Alexandria, Early Christianity at,” “Angels (Biblical),” “Antioch, Early Christi-
anity at,” “Apocalyptic,” “Apostles,” “Baptism (in Early Christianity),” “Bible
(Christian),” “Biblical Criticism,” “Biblical History,” “Canon,” “Christianity
(Early),” “Church (Christian),” “Corinth, Early Christianity at,” “Covenant,”
“Dead Sea Scrolls,” “Demons,” “Disciples (Early Christian),” “Ephesus, Early
Christianity at,” “Eschatology (Biblical and Christian),” “Essenes,” “Gnosti-
cism,” “God (in Hebrew and Christian Scriptures),” “Gospel,” “Hellenistic
Judaism,” “Holy Spirit,” “Intertestamental Literature,” “Jerusalem, Early
Christianity at,” “Jesus,” “John the Baptist,” “Kingship, Sacral (Israelite and
Bibliography Of The Writings Of George J. Brooke xxi

Early Christian),” “Mary, Virgin,” “Ministry, Christian,” “Nag Hammadi,” “Par-

ables,” “Paul,” “Peter,” “Pharisees,” “Prophecy (Jewish and Christian),” “Qum-
ran,” “Rome, Early Christianity at,” “Sadducees,” “Samaritans,” “Sanhedrin,”
“Temple (Jerusalem),” “Women (in Early Christianity),” “Worship (Biblical),”
in A New Dictionary of Religions. Edited by John R. Hinnells. Oxford: Black-
well, 1995, 20, 39, 42, 42–43, 43, 65, 71–72, 72–73, 73, 91, 106–7, 109, 118, 122, 131,
132, 138, 155, 155–56, 157, 190, 191, 193, 207, 219, 237, 248, 248–49, 251–52, 263,
303, 314–15, 338, 368, 374–75, 376, 377, 392–93, 404, 430–31, 440, 445, 450, 517,
560–61, 561–62.
“Luke-Acts and the Qumran Scrolls: The Case of MMT,” in Luke’s Literary
Achievement: Collected Essays. Edited by Christopher M. Tuckett. JSNTSup
116. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 1995, 72–90.
“The Thematic Content of 4Q252,” JQR 85 (1994–95): 33–59.
With James M. Robinson, “A Further Fragment of 1QSb: The Schøyen Collection
MS 1909,” JJS 46 (1995): 120–33.

1996

“252. 4QCommentary on Genesis A,” “253. 4QCommentary on Genesis B,” “253a.

4QCommentary on Malachi,” “254. 4QCommentary on Genesis C,” and “254a.
4QCommentary on Genesis D,” in Qumran Cave 4.XVII: Parabiblical Texts,
Part 3. Edited by James C. VanderKam. DJD 22. Oxford: Clarendon, 1996,
185–236.
“4Q252 as Early Jewish Commentary,” RevQ 17 (1996): 385–401.
“4Q252 et le Nouveau Testament,” in Le déchirement: Juifs et chrétiens au pre-
mier siècle. Edited by Daniel Marguerat. MB 32. Geneva: Labor et Fides, 1996,
221–42.
“British Scholar Speaks about Jordanian Dead Sea Scrolls,” University of Jordan
Campus News 80 (April 1996): 5.
“From ‘Assembly of Supreme Holiness for Aaron’ to ‘Sanctuary of Adam’:
The Laicization of Temple Ideology in the Qumran Scrolls and Its Wider
Implications,” JS 8/2 (1996): 119–45.
“The Dead Sea Scrolls,” Jordaniana: The Magazine of the Anglo-Jordanian
Society (Summer 1996): 16–17.
“The Jordanian Dead Sea Scrolls,” Inter-Faith Quarterly 14 (1996): 32–35.
“The Manchester Symposium on the Copper Scroll,” QC 6/1–4 (1996): 1–2.
xxii Bibliography of the Writings of George J. Brooke

1997

“Dead Sea Scrolls,” “Qumran,” “Selden, John,” in The Oxford Dictionary of

the Christian Church. Edited by E.A. Livingstone. 3rd ed. Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 1997, 457–58, 1358, 1480.
“Exegetical Strategies in Jubilees 1–2: New Light from 4QJubileesa,” Studies in
the Book of Jubilees. Edited by Matthias Albani, Jorg Frey, and Armin Lange.
TSAJ 65. Tübingen: J.C.B. Mohr (Paul Siebeck), 1997, 39–57.
“gblt,” “dbq,” “ḥblym,” “ḥbr,” “yḥd,” “lwh,” “sph,” “šlb,” in The New International
Dictionary of Old Testament Theology and Exegesis. Edited by Willem A.
VanGemeren. Grand Rapids: Zondervan; Carlisle: Paternoster, 1997, 1:804,
910–12, 2:15–16, 16–18, 433–34, 767–68, 3:278–79, 4:115.
“Isaiah in the Pesharim and Other Qumran Texts,” in Writing and Reading
the Scroll of Isaiah: Studies of an Interpretive Tradition. Edited by Craig
Broyles and Craig A. Evans. VTSup 70, Formation and Interpretation of Old
Testament Literature 1. Leiden: Brill, 1997, 609–32.
“The Book of Jeremiah and its Reception in the Qumran Scrolls,” in The Book of
Jeremiah and Its Reception/Le livre de Jérémie et sa reception. Edited by Adrian
H.W. Curtis and Thomas Römer. BETL 128. Leuven: Peeters/University Press,
1997, 183–205.
“The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Bible,” RE Today 14/2 (1997): 42.
“ ‘The Canon within the Canon’ at Qumran and in the New Testament,” in The
Scrolls and the Scriptures: Qumran Fifty Years After. Edited by Stanley E.
Porter and Craig A. Evans. JSPSup 26, Roehampton Institute London Papers
3. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1997, 242–66.
“The Dead Sea Scrolls in the National Archaeological Museum, Amman,” al-
Nadwah (AL al-Bayt University Journal) 8 (1997): 23–35.
“The Explicit Presentation of Scripture in 4QMMT,” in Legal Texts and Legal
Issues: Proceedings of the Second Meeting of the International Organization
for Qumran Studies, Cambridge 1995: Published in Honour of Joseph M.
Baumgarten. Edited by Moshe Bernstein, Florentino García Martínez, and
John Kampen. STDJ 23. Leiden: Brill, 1997, 67–88.
“The Qumran Scrolls and Old Testament Theology,” in Problems in Biblical
Theology: Essays in Honor of Rolf Knierim. Edited by Henry T.C. Sun et al.
Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997, 59–75.
Treasures from the Dead Sea: The Copper Scroll after 2000 Years—A Guide to the
Story of the Copper Scroll and the Treasures from the Dead Sea. Manchester:
Manchester Museum, 1997.
Bibliography Of The Writings Of George J. Brooke xxiii

1998

“1Q28b. 1QSerekh ha-Yaḥad b (fragment),” in Qumran Cave 4.XXI: Serekh ha-

Yaḥad and Two Related Texts. Edited by Philip S. Alexander and Geza Vermes.
DJD 26. Oxford: Clarendon, 1998, 227–33.
“Kingship and Messianism in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in King and Messiah in Israel
and the Ancient Near East: Proceedings of the Oxford Old Testament Seminar.
Edited by John Day. JSOTSup 270. Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1998, 434–55.
“Parabiblical Prophetic Narratives,” in The Dead Sea Scrolls After Fifty Years:
A Comprehensive Assessment. Edited by Peter W. Flint and James C.
VanderKam. Leiden: Brill, 1998, 1:271–301.
“Shared Intertextual Interpretations in the Dead Sea Scrolls and the New
Testament,” in Biblical Perspectives: Early Use and Interpretation of the
Bible in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls: Proceedings of the First International
Symposium of the Orion Center for the Study of the Dead Sea Scrolls and
Associated Literature, 12–14 May, 1996. Edited by Michael E. Stone and Esther
G. Chazon. STDJ 28. Leiden: Brill, 1998, 35–57.
“Some Comments on 4Q252 and the Text of Genesis,” Textus: The Annual of the
Hebrew University Bible Project 19 (1998): 1–25.
With Lawrence H. Schiffman, “A Short History of Dead Sea Scrolls Research: A
Photoessay,” Religious Studies News 13/2 (1998): 11–12, 29.

1999

“4Q252 and the 153 Fish of John 21:11,” in Antikes Judentum und frühes
Christentum: Festschrift für Hartmut Stegemann zum 65. Geburtstag. Edited
by Bernd Kollmann, Wolfgang Reinbold, and Annette Steudel. BZNW 97.
Berlin: de Gruyter, 1999, 253–65.
“Dead Sea Scrolls,” “John Selden,” “Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs,” in
Dictionary of Biblical Interpretation. Edited by John H. Hayes. Nashville:
Abingdon, 1999, 253–56, 452–53, 538–41.
“Miqdash Adam, Eden and the Qumran Community,” in Gemeinde ohne
Tempel—Community without Temple: Zur Substituierung und Transformation
des Jerusalemer Tempels und seines Kultes im Alten Testament, antiken
Judentum und frühen Christentum. Edited by Beate Ego, Armin Lange, and
Peter Pilhofer. WUNT 118. Tübingen: J.C.B. Mohr, 1999, 285–301.
“The Allegro Qumran Photograph Collection: Old Photos and New Information,”
in The Provo International Conference on the Dead Sea Scrolls: Technological
xxiv Bibliography of the Writings of George J. Brooke

Innovations, New Texts, and Reformulated Issues. Edited by Donald W. Parry

and Eugene Ulrich. STDJ 30. Leiden: Brill, 1999, 13–29.
With Lawrence H. Schiffman, “The Past: On the History of Dead Sea Scrolls
Research,” and “The Scrolls and the Study of the New Testament,” in The
Dead Sea Scrolls at Fifty: Proceedings of the 1997 Society of Biblical Literature
Qumran Section Meetings. Edited by Robert A. Kugler and Eilene M. Schuller.
SBLEJL 15. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1999, 9–20, 61–76.

2000

“Biblical Interpretation in the Qumran Scrolls and the New Testament,” in The
Dead Sea Scrolls Fifty Years after their Discovery: Proceedings of the Jerusalem
Congress, July 20–25, 1997. Edited by Lawrence H. Schiffman, Emanuel Tov,
and James C. VanderKam. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society and the
Shrine of the Book, Israel Museum, 2000, 60–73.
“Body Parts in Barkhi Nafshi and the Qualifications for Membership of the
Worshipping Community,” in Sapiential, Liturgical and Poetical Texts from
Qumran: Proceedings of the Third Meeting of the International Organization
for Qumran Studies, Oslo 1998, Published in Memory of Maurice Baillet. Edited
by Daniel K. Falk, Florentino García Martínez, and Eileen M. Schuller. STDJ
35. Leiden: Brill, 2000, 79–94.
Encyclopedia of the Dead Sea Scrolls, Area Editor. Edited by Lawrence H.
Schiffman and James C. VanderKam. New York: Oxford University Press,
2000.
“Amman Museum,” “Catena,” “Florilegium,” “Genesis, Commentaries on,”
“James, Letter of,” “Prophecy,” “Rewritten Bible,” “Scrolls Research,” ibid.,
1:20–23, 121–22, 297–98, 300–302, 396–97, 2:694–700, 777–81, 844–51.
“E pluribus unum: Textual Variety and Definitive Interpretation in the Qumran
Scrolls,” in The Dead Sea Scrolls in Their Historical Context. Edited by Timothy
H. Lim with Larry W. Hurtado, A. Graeme Auld, and Alison Jack. Edinburgh:
T&T Clark, 2000, 107–19.
“Florilegium (4Q174),” “Pesharim,” “Testimonia (4Q175),” in Dictionary of New
Testament Background. Edited by Craig A. Evans and Stanley E. Porter.
Downers Grove, IL, Leicester: Inter-Varsity Press, 2000, 378–80, 778–82,
1205–7.
“Interprétations intertextuelles communes dans les manuscrits de la Mer
Morte et le Nouveau Testament,” in Intertextualités: La Bible en échos. Edited
Bibliography Of The Writings Of George J. Brooke xxv

by Adrian H.W. Curtis and Daniel Marguerat. MdB 40. Geneva: Labor et
Fides, 2000, 97–120.
Jewish Ways of Reading the Bible. Edited by George J. Brooke. JSSSup 11.
Oxford: Oxford University Press on behalf of the University of Manchester,
2000.
“Reading the Plain Meaning of Scripture in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” ibid.,
67–90.
Narrativity in Biblical and Related Texts/La Narrativité dans la Bible et les textes
apparentés. Edited by George J. Brooke and Jean-Daniel Kaestli. BETL 149.
Leuven: Peeters/University Press, 2000.
“Joseph, Aseneth, and Lévi-Strauss,” ibid., 185–200.
The Birth of Jesus: Biblical and Theological Reflections. Edited by George J.
Brooke. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 2000.
“Introduction” and “Qumran: The Cradle of the Christ?” ibid., 1–5 and 23–34.

2001

“4Q158: Reworked Pentateucha or 4QReworked Pentateuch A?” DSD 8 (2001):

219–41.
“Additions to Daniel: the Prayer of Azariah, the Song of the Three Jews, Susanna,
Bel and the Dragon,” in The Oxford Bible Commentary. Edited by John
Barton and John Muddiman. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001, 704–11.
Reprinted in The Apocrypha. Edited by Martin Goodman, John Barton, and
John Muddiman. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002, 120–28.
“A Find in the Desert,” “Cave 1 Was Not the First,” “The Search for More,”
“Politics Intervenes,” Calliope: Exploring World History 12/4. Peterborough:
Cobblestone Publishing, December 2001, 4–8, 8, 10–11, 12–14 (with Lawrence
H. Schiffman).
“The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Bible,” in Manchester Memoirs: Memoirs and
Proceedings of the Manchester Literary and Philosophical Society 1999–2000
138 (2001): 27–38.
The Qumran Community. Farmington Papers, Biblical Studies 9. Oxford: The
Farmington Institute for Christian Studies, 2001.
“The Qumran Pesharim and the Text of Isaiah in the Cave 4 Manuscripts,” in
Biblical Hebrew, Biblical Texts: Essays in Memory of Michael P. Weitzman.
Edited by Ada Rapoport-Albert and Gillian Greenberg. JSOTSup 333. The
Hebrew Bible and its Versions 2. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 2001,
304–20.
xxvi Bibliography of the Writings of George J. Brooke

2002

“Biblical Interpretation in the Wisdom Texts from Qumran,” in The Wisdom

Texts from Qumran and the Development of Sapiential Thought. Edited by
Charlotte Hempel, Armin Lange, and Hermann Lichtenberger. BETL 159.
Leuven: Peeters/University Press, 2002, 201–20.
“Commentary on Genesis B (4Q253=4QCommGen B),” “Commentary
on Genesis C (4Q254=4QCommGen C),” “Commentary on Genesis D
(4Q254a=4QCommGen D),” “Commentary on Malachi B (4Q253a),” in The
Dead Sea Scrolls: Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek Texts with English Translations,
Volume 6b: Pesharim, Other Commentaries, and Related Documents. Edited
by James H. Charlesworth and Henry W. Rietz. PTSDSSP 6b. Louisville:
Westminster John Knox; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2002, 220–23, 224–33,
235–39, 244–47.
Copper Scroll Studies. Edited by George J. Brooke and Philip R. Davies. JSPSup
40. London: Sheffield Academic Press, 2002. Reprinted in paperback,
London: T&T Clark International, 2004.
“Introduction,” ibid., 1–9.
“Langues, sciences et techniques,” in Les Manuscrits de la mer Morte. Edited by
Farah Mébarki and Émile Puech. Rodez: Éditions du Rouergue, 2002. New
edition, corrected and augmented 2003 and 2004, 142–47.
The Complete World of the Dead Sea Scrolls. George J. Brooke, Philip R. Davies,
and Phillip R. Callaway. London: Thames and Hudson, 2002. Revised edition
in paperback 2011.
“The Dead Sea Scrolls,” in The Biblical World. Edited by John Barton. London
and New York: Routledge, 2002, 1:250–69.
“The Rewritten Law, Prophets and Psalms: Issues for Understanding the Text
of the Bible,” in The Bible as Book: The Hebrew Bible and the Judaean Desert
Discoveries. Edited by Edward D. Herbert and Emanuel Tov. London: The
British Library; New Castle: Oak Knoll Press; Grand Haven: The Scriptorium
Center for Christian Antiquities, 2002, 31–40.

2003

“Between Qumran and Corinth: Embroidered Allusions to Women’s Authority,”

in The Dead Sea Scrolls as Background to Postbiblical Judaism and Early
Christianity: Papers from an International Conference at St. Andrews in 2001.
Edited by James Davila. STDJ 46. Leiden: Brill, 2003, 157–76.
Bibliography Of The Writings Of George J. Brooke xxvii

“Dead Sea Scrolls,” in Jesus in History, Thought, and Culture: An Encyclopedia.

Edited by James Leslie Houlden. Santa Barbara, CA; Oxford: ABC—Clio,
2003, 201–6.
“Deuteronomy 5–6 in the Phylacteries from Qumran Cave 4,” in Emanuel:
Studies in Hebrew Bible, Septuagint, and Dead Sea Scrolls in Honor of Emanuel
Tov. Edited by Shalom M. Paul et al. VTSup 94. Leiden: Brill, 2003, 57–70.
“Deuteronomy 18.9–14 in the Qumran Scrolls,” in Magic in the Biblical World:
From the Rod of Aaron to the Ring of Solomon. Edited by Todd Klutz. JSNTSup
245. London: T&T Clark International, 2003. Reprinted in paperback, 2004,
66–84.

2004

“4Q252 (4QCommGen A),” “4Q253 (4QCommGen B),” “4Q254 (4QCommGen

C),” “4Q254a (4QCommGen D),” “4Q253a (4QCommMal),” in The Dead Sea
Scrolls Reader: Exegetical Texts. Edited by Donald W. Parry and Emanuel Tov.
Leiden: Brill, 2004, 106–17, 128–29. Reprinted in The Dead Sea Scrolls Reader:
Volume I. Edited by Donald W. Parry and Emanuel Tov in association with
Geraldine I. Clements. Leiden: Brill, 2013, 470–81, 490–91.
Isaiah at Qumran: Updating W.H. Brownlee’s The Meaning of the Qumrân Scrolls
for the Bible, Occasional Papers No. 46. Claremont: Institute for Antiquity
and Christianity, 2004.
“The Psalms in Early Jewish Literature in the Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls,”
in The Psalms in the New Testament. Edited by Steve Moyise and Maarten
J.J. Menken. The New Testament and the Scriptures of Israel. London: T&T
Clark International, 2004, 5–24.

2005

“4Q341: An Exercise for Spelling and for Spells?” in Writing and Ancient
Near Eastern Society: Papers in Honour of Alan R. Millard. Edited by Piotr
Bienowski, Christopher B. Mee, and Elizabeth A. Slater. LHBOTS 426.
London: T&T Clark International, 2005, 271–82.
“Between Authority and Canon: The Significance of Reworking the Bible for
Understanding the Canonical Process,” in Reworking the Bible: Apocryphal
and Related Texts at Qumran: Proceedings of a Joint Symposium by the Orion
Center for the Study of the Dead Sea Scrolls and Associated Literature and the
xxviii Bibliography of the Writings of George J. Brooke

Hebrew University Institute for Advanced Studies Research Group on Qumran,

15–17 January, 2002. Edited by Esther G. Chazon, Devorah Dimant, and Ruth
Anne Clements. STDJ 58. Leiden: Brill, 2005, 85–104.
“Eschatological Bible Interpretation in the Scrolls and in the New Testament,”
Mishkan: A Forum on the Gospel and the Jewish People 44 (2005): 18–25.
“Justifying Deviance: The Place of Scripture in Converting to a Qumran Self-
Understanding,” in Reading the Present in the Qumran Library: The Perception
of the Contemporary by Means of Scriptural Interpretation. Edited by Kristin
De Troyer and Armin Lange. SBL Symposium Series 30. Atlanta: SBL Press,
2005, 73–87.
“Malachi, Represented by Septuagint, 4QXIIa, 4QXIIc, 4QCommMal, Masoretic
Text, Based on Transcriptions by G.J. Brooke and R.E. Fuller,” in Minor
Prophets. Edited by Beate Ego et al. BQ 3B. Leiden: Brill, 2005, 189–95.
“Men and Women as Angels in Joseph and Aseneth,” JSP 14 (2005): 159–77.
Qumran and the Jewish Jesus: Reading the New Testament in the Light of the
Scrolls. GBS 35. Cambridge: Grove Books, 2005.
Studia Semitica: The Journal of Semitic Studies Jubilee Volume. Edited by George
J. Brooke et al. JSSSup 16. Oxford: Oxford University Press on behalf of the
University of Manchester, 2005.
“The Bisection of Isaiah in the Scrolls from Qumran,” ibid., 73–94
“Thematic Commentaries on Prophetic Scriptures,” in Biblical Interpretation at
Qumran. Edited by Matthias Henze. SDSRL. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2005,
134–57.
“The Dead Sea Scrolls in the British Media (1987–2002),” DSD 12 (2005): 38–51.
The Dead Sea Scrolls and the New Testament: Essays in Mutual Illumination.
London: SPCK, 2005.
“The Qumran Scrolls and the Demise of the Distinction between Higher and
Lower Criticism,” in New Directions in Qumran Studies: Proceedings of the
Bristol Colloquium on the Dead Sea Scrolls, 8–10 September 2003. Edited by
Jonathan G. Campbell, William J. Lyons, and Lloyd K. Pietersen. LSTS 52.
London: T&T Clark International, 2005, 26–42.
“The Ten Temples of the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in Temple and Worship in Biblical
Israel. Edited by John Day. LHBOTS 422. London: T&T Clark International,
2005. Reprinted in paperback, 2007, 417–34.

2006

“Biblical Interpretation at Qumran,” in The Bible and the Dead Sea Scrolls,
Volume One: Scripture and the Scrolls. Edited by James H. Charlesworth. The
Bibliography Of The Writings Of George J. Brooke xxix

Second Princeton Symposium on Judaism and Christian Origins. Waco, TX:

Baylor University Press, 2006, 287–319.
“Juhana Saukkonen’s The Story behind the Text: Scriptural Interpretation in
4Q252, Diss. Helsinki 2005,” Teologinen Aikakauskirja /Finnish Journal of
Theology 111 (2006): 643–44.
“Prophecy and Prophets in the Dead Sea Scrolls: Looking Backwards and
Forwards,” in Prophets, Prophecy and Prophetic Texts in the Second Temple
Period. Edited by Michael H. Floyd and Robert D. Haak. LHBOTS 427.
London: T&T Clark International, 2006, 151–65.
“The Conservation of the Copper Scroll,” BAR 32/5 (2006): 60. Reprinted
in Herod’s Palace-Fortresses. Edited by Hershel Shanks. Digging Deeper.
Washington: Biblical Archaeological Society, 2015, 64.
“The Formation and Renewal of Scriptural Tradition,” in Biblical Traditions
in Transmission: Essays in Honour of Michael A. Knibb. Edited by Charlotte
Hempel and Judith M. Lieu. JSJSup 111. Leiden: Brill, 2006, 39–59.
“The Historical Documents at the John Rylands University Library: The Reed
Dead Sea Scrolls Collection,” e-Preservation Science 3 (2006): 35–40.
“The Site of Qumran: What is All the Fuss About?” Bulletin of the Anglo-Israel
Archaeological Society 24 (2006): 127–28.
“The Structure of 1QHa XII 5–XIII 4 and the Meaning of Resurrection,” in From
4QMMT to Resurrection: Mélanges qumraniens en hommage à Émile Puech.
Edited by Florentino García Martínez, Annette Steudel, and Eibert J.C.
Tigchelaar. STDJ 61. Leiden: Brill, 2006, 15–33.
“The Twelve Minor Prophets and the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in Congress Volume:
Leiden 2004. Edited by André Lemaire. VTSup 109. Leiden: Brill, 2006, 19–43.
“On Isaiah at Qumran,” in “As Those Who Are Taught”: The Interpretation of
Isaiah from the LXX to the SBL. Edited by Claire Matthews McGinnis and
Patricia K. Tull. SBL Symposium Series 27. Atlanta: SBL Press, 2006, 69–85.

2007

Ancient and Modern Scriptural Historiography—L’Historiographie biblique, an-

cienne et moderne. Edited by George J. Brooke and Thomas Römer. BETL 207.
Leuven: Peeters/University Press, 2007.
“Types of Historiography in the Qumran Scrolls,” ibid., 211–30.
“ ‘Canon’ in the Light of the Qumran Scrolls,” in The Canon of Scripture in Jewish
and Christian Tradition/Le canon des Écritures dans les traditions juive et
chrétienne. Edited by Philip S. Alexander and Jean-Daniel Kaestli. PIRSB 4.
Lausanne: Éditions du Zèbre, 2007, 81–98.
xxx Bibliography of the Writings of George J. Brooke

“Dead Sea Scrolls,” in The New Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible. Edited by
Katherine Doob Sakenfeld et al. Nashville: Abingdon, 2007, 2:52–63.
“Moses in the Dead Sea Scrolls: Looking at Mount Nebo from Qumran,” in La
construction de la figure de Moïse/The Construction of the Figure of Moses.
Edited by Thomas Römer. ST 13. Paris: Gabalda, 2007, 209–21.
“The Books of Chronicles and the Scrolls from Qumran,” in Reflection and
Refraction: Studies in Biblical Historiography in Honour of A. Graeme Auld.
Edited by Robert Rezetko, Timothy H. Lim, and W. Brian Aucker. VTSup 113.
Leiden: Brill, 2007, 35–48.
“The Dead Sea Scrolls and New Testament Ecclesiology,” in Holiness and
Ecclesiology in the New Testament. Edited by Kent E. Brower and Andy
Johnson. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2007, 1–18.
“The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Bible,” “Pesher,” in Dictionary of Biblical Criticism
and Interpretation. Edited by Stanley E. Porter. London: Routledge, 2007,
70–72, 273–75.
“The Ronald Reed Archive at the John Rylands University Library” (with Ira
Rabin et al.), e-Preservation Science 4 (2007): 9–12.
“The Structure of the Poem against Idolatry in the Epistle of Jeremiah (1 Baruch
6),” in Poussières de christianisme et de judaïsme antiques: Études réunies en
l’honneur de Jean-Daniel Kaestli et Éric Junod. Edited by Albert Frey and
Rémi Gounelle. Publications de l’institut romand des sciences bibliques 5.
Prahins: Éditions du Zèbre, 2007, 107–28.

2008

“The Place of Prophecy in Coming out of Exile: The Case of the Dead Sea
Scrolls,” in Scripture in Transition: Essays on Septuagint, Hebrew Bible, and
Dead Sea Scrolls in Honour of Raija Sollamo. Edited by Anssi Voitila and Jutta
Jokiranta. JSJSup 126. Leiden: Brill, 2008, 535–50.
The Significance of Sinai: Traditions about Divine Revelation in Judaism and
Christianity. Edited by George J. Brooke, Hindy Najman, and Loren T.
Stuckenbruck. TBN 12. Leiden: Brill, 2008.
“Moving Mountains: From Sinai to Jerusalem,” ibid., 73–89.

2009

“Aaron (II: Judaism. A: in Second Temple and Hellenistic Judaism),” “Allegro,

John Marco (1923–1988),” in The Encyclopedia of the Bible and Its Reception:
Bibliography Of The Writings Of George J. Brooke xxxi

1. A (Aleph)—Antinomianism. Edited by Hans-Josef Klauck et al. Berlin: de

Gruyter, 2009, cols. 7–9, 815.
“From Bible to Midrash: Approaches to Biblical Interpretation in the Dead Sea
Scrolls by Modern Interpreters,” in Northern Lights on the Dead Sea Scrolls:
Proceedings of the Nordic Qumran Network 2003–2006. Edited by Anders
Klostergaard Petersen et al. STDJ 80. Leiden: Brill, 2009, 1–19.
“New Perspectives on the Bible and its Interpretation in the Dead Sea Scrolls,”
in The Dynamics of Language and Exegesis at Qumran. Edited by Devorah
Dimant and Reinhard G. Kratz. FAT 2/35. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009,
19–37.
“Prophets and Prophecy in the Qumran Scrolls and the New Testament,” in
Text, Thought and Practice in Qumran and Early Christianity: Proceedings of
the Ninth International Symposium of the Orion Center for the Study of the
Dead Sea Scrolls and Associated Literature, Jointly Sponsored by the Hebrew
University Center for the Study of Christianity, 11–13 January, 2004. Edited by
Ruth Clements and Daniel R. Schwartz. STDJ 84. Leiden: Brill, 2009, 31–48.
“The Pre-Sectarian Jesus,” in Echoes from the Caves: Qumran and the New
Testament. Edited by Florentino García Martínez. STDJ 85. Leiden: Brill,
2009, 33–48.
“Torah, Rewritten Torah and the Letter of Jude,” in Torah in the New Testament:
Papers Delivered at the Manchester-Lausanne Seminar of June 2008. Edited by
Michael Tait and Peter S. Oakes. LNTS 401. London: T&T Clark International,
2009, 180–93.
“Was the Teacher of Righteousness Considered To Be a Prophet?” in
Prophecy after the Prophets? The Contribution of the Dead Sea Scrolls to the
Understanding of Biblical and Extra-Biblical Prophecy. Edited by Kristin De
Troyer, Armin Lange, and Lucas L. Schulte. CBE 52. Leuven: Peeters, 2009,
77–97.

2010

“Aspects of the Physical and Scribal Features of Some Cave 4 ‘Continuous’

Pesharim,” in The Dead Sea Scrolls: Transmission of Traditions and Production
of Texts. Edited by Sarianna Metso, Hindy Najman, and Eileen Schuller. STDJ
92. Leiden: Brill, 2010, 133–50.
“Eschatological Wisdom and the Kingship of God: Light from Some of the
Dead Sea Scrolls on the Teaching of Jesus?” in Judaism, Jewish Identities and
the Gospel Tradition: Essays in Honour of Maurice Casey. Edited by James G.
Crossley. Bible World Series. London: Equinox Publishing, 2010, 45–61.
xxxii Bibliography of the Writings of George J. Brooke

“Florilegium (4Q174),” “Genesis and Exodus, Commentary on (4Q422),” “Genesis

Commentaries (4Q252–254),” “Testimonia (4Q175),” in The Dictionary of
Early Judaism. Edited by John J. Collins and Daniel C. Harlow. Grand Rapids:
Eerdmans, 2010. Reprinted in paperback, 2012, 646–47, 663–64, 667–68,
1297–98.
“Genre Theory, Rewritten Bible and Pesher,” DSD 17 (2010): 332–57.
“Hypertextuality and the ‘Parabiblical’ Dead Sea Scrolls,” in In the Second
Degree: Paratextual Literature in Ancient Near Eastern and Ancient
Mediterranean Culture and Its Reflections in Medieval Literature. Edited by
Philip S. Alexander, Armin Lange, and Renate J. Pillinger. Leiden: Brill, 2010,
43–64.
“Pesher and Midrash in Qumran Literature: Issues for Lexicography,” RevQ 24
(2009–10): 79–95.
“Room for Interpretation: An Analysis of Spatial Imagery in the Pesharim,” in
The Dead Sea Scrolls: Texts and Context. Edited by Charlotte Hempel. STDJ
90. Leiden: Brill, 2010, 309–24.
“Shared Exegetical Traditions between the Scrolls and the New Testament,” in
The Oxford Handbook of the Dead Sea Scrolls. Edited by Timothy H. Lim and
John J. Collins. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010, 565–91.
“Some Remarks on the Reconstruction of 4QJudgesb,” in Papyri Graecae
Schøyen (PSchøyen II): Essays and Texts in Honour of Martin Schøyen. Edited
by Diletta Minutoli and Rosario Pintaudi. PF 40. Florence: Edizioni Gonnelli,
2010, 107–15.
“The ‘Apocalyptic’ Community, the Matrix of the Teacher and Rewriting
Scripture,” in Authoritative Scriptures in Ancient Judaism. Edited by Mladen
Popović. JSJSup 141. Leiden: Brill, 2010, 37–53.
“What Makes a Text Historical? Assumptions behind the Classification of
Some Dead Sea Scrolls,” in The Historian and the Bible: Essays in Honour of
Lester L. Grabbe. Edited by Philip R. Davies and Diana V. Edelman. LHBOTS
530. London: T&T Clark International, 2010, 207–25.

2011

“ ʿādām,” in Theologisches Wörterbuch zu den Qumrantexten: Band 1. Edited by

Heinz-Josef Fabry and Ulrich Dahmen. Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 2011, cols.
48–61.
“Beatitudes,” in The Encyclopedia of the Bible and Its Reception: 3. Athena-Birkat
ha-minim. Edited by Hans-Josef Klauck et al. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2011, cols.
682–85.
Bibliography Of The Writings Of George J. Brooke xxxiii

“Between Scroll and Codex? Reconsidering the Qumran Opisthographs,” in

On Stone and Scroll: Studies in Honour of Graham I. Davies. Edited by James
Keltie Aitken, Katharine Julia Dell, and Brian A. Mastin. BZAW 420. Berlin:
de Gruyter, 2011, 123–38.
“Canonisation Processes of the Jewish Bible in the Light of the Qumran Scrolls,”
in “For It Is Written”: Essays on the Function of Scripture in Early Judaism and
Christianity. Edited by Jan Dochhorn and Malte Rosenau. ECCA 12. Frankfurt:
Peter Lang, 2011, 13–35.
“Crisis Without, Crisis Within: Changes and Developments within the Dead
Sea Scrolls Movement,” in Judaism and Crisis: Crisis as a Catalyst in Jewish
Cultural History. Edited by Armin Lange, K.F. Diethard Römheld, and
Matthias Weigold. SIJD 9. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2011, 89–107.
“Exile and Return,” “Apocrypha/Deuterocanonical Books,” in The Eerdmans
Companion to the Bible. Edited by Gordon D. Fee and Robert L. Hubbard.
Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2011, 281–83, 489–91.
“From Jesus to the Early Christian Communities: Modes of Sectarianism in the
Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in The Dead Sea Scrolls and Contemporary
Culture: Proceedings of the International Conference Held at the Israel
Museum, Jerusalem ( July 6–8, 2008). Edited by Adolfo D. Roitman, Lawrence
H. Schiffman, and Shani Tzoref. STDJ 93. Leiden: Brill, 2011, 413–34.
“Luke, John, and the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in John, Qumran, and the Dead Sea
Scrolls: Sixty Years of Discovery and Debate. Edited by Mary L. Coloe and Tom
Thatcher. SBLEJL 32. Atlanta: SBL Press, 2011, 69–91.
“The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Interpretation of Scripture,” in The World of Jesus
and the Early Church: Identity and Interpretation in Early Communities of
Faith. Edited by Craig A. Evans. Peabody: Hendrickson 2011, 121–40.
The Mermaid and the Partridge: Essays from the Copenhagen Conference
on Revising Texts from Cave Four. Edited by George J. Brooke and Jesper
Høgenhaven. STDJ 96. Leiden: Brill, 2011.
“From Florilegium or Midrash to Commentary: The Problem of Re-naming
an Adopted Manuscript,” ibid., 129–50.

2012

“4QGend Reconsidered,” in Florilegium Complutense: Textual Criticism and

Dead Sea Scrolls Studies in Honour of Julio Trebolle Barrera. Edited by Andrés
Piquer Otero and Pablo A. Torijano Morales. JSJSup 158. Leiden: Brill, 2012,
51–70.
xxxiv Bibliography of the Writings of George J. Brooke

“Aspects of Matthew’s Use of Scripture in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in

A Teacher for All Generations: Essays in Honor of James C. VanderKam. Edited
by Eric Mason et al. JSJSup 153. Leiden: Brill, 2012, 2:821–38.
“Aspects of the Theological Significance of Prayer and Worship in the Qumran
Scrolls,” in Prayer and Poetry in the Dead Sea Scrolls and Related Literature:
Essays in Honor of Eileen Schuller on the Occasion of Her 65th Birthday. Edited
by Jeremy Penner, Ken M. Penner, and Cecilia Wassen. STDJ 98. Leiden: Brill,
2012, 35–54.
“Authority in Texts: Some Clues from the Dead Sea Scrolls,” RevQ 25 (2011–12):
507–23.
“Genesis 1–11 in the Light of Some Aspects of the Transmission of Genesis in
Late Second Temple Times,” HBAI 1/4 (2012): 465–82.
“La Prophétie de Qumrân,” in Les recueils prophétiques de la Bible: Origines, mi-
lieux et contexte proche-oriental. Edited by Jean-Daniel Macchi et al. MB 64.
Geneva: Labor et Fides, 2012, 480–510.
“Some Comments on Commentary,” DSD 19 (2012): 249–66.
“The Pesharim and Prophetic Interpretation at Qumran,” in A Companion to
Biblical Interpretation in Early Judaism. Edited by Matthias Henze. Grand
Rapids: Eerdmans, 2012, 235–54.
The Scrolls and Biblical Traditions: Proceedings of the Seventh Meeting of the
IOQS in Helsinki. Edited by George J. Brooke et al. STDJ 103. Leiden: Brill,
2012.
“Scripture and Scriptural Tradition in Transmission: Light from the Dead
Sea Scrolls,” ibid., 1–17.
“The Study of the Dead Sea Scrolls in the United Kingdom,” in The Dead Sea
Scrolls in Scholarly Perspective: A History of Research. Edited by Devorah
Dimant with the assistance of Ingo Kottsieper. STDJ 99. Leiden: Brill, 2012,
449–86.

2013

“Commentary on Genesis A (4Q252),” in Outside the Bible: Ancient Jewish

Writings Related to Scripture. Edited by Louis H. Feldman, James L. Kugel, and
Lawrence H. Schiffman. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2013, 211–15.
“Controlling Intertexts and Hierarchies of Echo in Two Thematic Eschatological
Commentaries from Qumran,” in Between Text and Text: The Hermeneutics of
Intertextuality in Ancient Cultures and Their Afterlife in Medieval and Modern
Times. Edited by Michaela Bauks et al. JAJSup 6. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck &
Ruprecht, 2013, 181–95.
Bibliography Of The Writings Of George J. Brooke xxxv

“Ethics in the Qumran Scrolls and their Implications for New Testament
Ethics,” in Early Christian Ethics in Interaction with Jewish and Greco-Roman
Contexts. Edited by Jan Willem van Henten and Joseph Verheyden. STR 17.
Leiden: Brill, 2013, 83–106.
“Jacob and His House in the Scrolls from Qumran,” in Rewriting and Interpreting
the Hebrew Bible: The Biblical Patriarchs in the Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls.
Edited by Devorah Dimant and Reinhard G. Kratz. BZAW 439. Berlin: de
Gruyter, 2013, 171–88.
“yĕhûdāh,” “ma‘yān,” in Theologisches Wörterbuch zu den Qumrantexten: Band 2.
Edited by Heinz-Josef Fabry and Ulrich Dahmen. Stuttgart: Kolhammer, 2013,
cols. 97–101, 733–35.
Reading the Dead Sea Scrolls: Essays in Method. SBLEJL 39. Atlanta: SBL Press,
2013.
“Some Scribal Features of the Thematic Commentaries from Qumran,” in
Writing the Bible: Scribes, Scribalism and Script. Edited by Philip R. Davies
and Thomas Römer. Durham: Acumen, 2013, 124–43.
“The Influence of the Dead Sea Scrolls on the Understanding of Jewish
Traditions in the New Testament,” in The Reception of the Hebrew Bible in
the Septuagint and the New Testament: Essays in Memory of Aileen Guilding.
Edited by David J.A. Clines and J. Cheryl Exum. HBM 55. Sheffield: Sheffield
Phoenix, 2013, 32–48.

2014

“2 Corinthians 6:14–7:1 Again: A Change in Perspective,” in The Dead Sea Scrolls

and Pauline Literature. Edited by Jean-Sébastien Rey. STDJ 102. Leiden: Brill,
2014, 1–16.
“Florilegium (4Q174),” in The Encyclopedia of the Bible and Its Reception: Volume 9.
Edited by Hans-Josef Klauck et al. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2014, cols. 255–57.
“Les mystères des prophètes et les oracles d’exégèse: continuité et discontinu-
ité dans la prophétie à Qumrân,” in Comment devient-on prophète: Actes du
colloque organisé par le Collège de France, Paris, les 4–5 avril 2011. Edited by
Jean-Marie Durand, Thomas Römer, and Micaël Bürki. OBO 265. Fribourg:
Academic Press; Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2014, 159–66.
“Memory, Cultural Memory and Rewriting Scripture,” in Rewritten Bible after
Fifty Years: Texts, Terms, or Techniques? A Last Dialogue with Geza Vermes.
Edited by József Zsellengér. JSJSup 166. Leiden: Brill, 2014, 119–36.
“Physicality, Paratextuality and Pesher Habakkuk,” in On the Fringe of
Commentary: Metatextuality in Ancient Near Eastern and Ancient
xxxvi Bibliography of the Writings of George J. Brooke

Mediterranean Cultures. Edited by Sydney H. Aufrère et al. OLA 232. Leuven:

Peeters, 2014, 175–93.
“The Scrolls from Qumran and Their Contemporary Contexts: A Selective
Bibliographical Survey 2000–2014,” RivB 62 (2014): 541–61.
“What is a Variant Edition? Perspectives from the Qumran Scrolls,” in In the
Footsteps of Sherlock Holmes: Studies in the Biblical Text in Honour of Anneli
Aejmelaeus. Edited by Kristin De Troyer, Timothy M. Law, and Marketta
Liljeström. CBET 72. Leuven: Peeters, 2014, 607–22.

2015

“Brian as a Teacher of Righteousness,” in Jesus and Brian: Exploring the Historical

Jesus and His Times via Monty Python’s Life of Brian. Edited by Joan Taylor.
London: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2015, 127–40.
“Papyrus Fragments of Deuteronomy (P. Ryl. 458),” in Riches of the Rylands: The
Special Collections of the University of Manchester Library. Edited by Rachel
Beckett et al. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2015, 151.
“Reading, Searching and Blessing: A Functional Approach to Scriptural
Interpretation in the ‫יחד‬,” in The Temple in Text and Tradition: A Festschrift
in Honour of Robert Hayward. Edited by R. Timothy McLay. LSTS 83. London:
Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2015, 140–56.
“Roger Tomes,” in Roger Tomes, Interpreting the Text: Essays on the Old
Testament, its Reception and its Study. Edited by Walter J. Houston and
Adrian H.W. Curtis. HBM 71. Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix, 2015, 1–3.
“The Doctrine of Inspiration and the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in Biblical Inspiration
and the Authority of Scripture. Edited by Carlos R. Bovell. Eugene: Wipf &
Stock, 2015, 27–31.
“The Kittim and Hints of Hybridity in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in People under
Power: Early Jewish and Christian Responses to the Roman Empire. Edited
by Michael Labahn and Outi Lehtipuu. ECRW. Amsterdam: Amsterdam
University Press, 2015, 17–32.
“Weak or Sinful? A Body of Rhetoric—On the Use of Physical Metaphors in
Romans 3 and the Hodayot,” in Jesus, Paulus und die Texte von Qumran:
Festschrift für Heinz-Wolfgang Kuhn. Edited by Jörg Frey and Enno E. Popkes.
WUNT II/390. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2015, 251–62.
Bibliography Of The Writings Of George J. Brooke xxxvii

2016

Goochem in Mokum—Wisdom in Amsterdam: Papers on Biblical and Related

Wisdom Read at the Fifteenth Joint Meeting of the Society for Old Testament
Study and the Oudtestamentisch Werkgezelschap, Amsterdam, July 2012.
Edited by George J. Brooke and Pierre Van Hecke. OTS 68. Leiden: Brill, 2016.
“The Place of Wisdom in the Formation of the Movement behind the Dead
Sea Scrolls,” ibid., 20–33.
“Isaiah in Some of the Non-Scriptural Dead Sea Scrolls,” in Transmission and
Interpretation of the Book of Isaiah in the Context of Intra- and Interreligious
Debates. Edited by Florian Wilk and Peter Gemeinhardt. BETL 280. Leuven:
Peeters, 2016, 243–60.
“MS 1909. 1QRule of Blessings (1Q28b) frg. 25a, 1QSb V 22–25,” in Gleanings from
the Caves: Dead Sea Scrolls and Artifacts from the Schøyen Collection. Edited
by Torleif Elgvin, Kipp Davis, and Michael Langlois. LSTS. London: T&T
Clark International, 2016, 273–81.
“New Perspectives on the Significance of the Scrolls for the New Testament and
Early Christian Literature,” DSD 23 (2016): 267–79.
On Prophets, Warriors, and Kings: Former Prophets Through the Eyes of Their
Interpreters Edited by George J. Brooke and Ariel Feldman. BZAW 470. Berlin:
de Gruyter, 2016.
“Zedekiah, Covenant and the Scrolls from Qumran,” and (with Hindy
Najman) “Dethroning David and Enthroning Messiah: Jewish and Christian
Perspectives,” ibid., 95–109, 111–27.
“Text, Timing and Terror: Thematic Thoughts on the War Scroll in Conversation
with the Writings of Martin G. Abegg, Jr.,” in The War Scroll, Violence, War
and Peace in the Dead Sea Scrolls and Related Literature: Essays in Honour
of Martin G. Abegg, Jr. on the Occasion of His 65th Birthday. Edited by Kipp
Davis et al. STDJ 115. Leiden: Brill, 2016, 49–66.
List of Contributors

Philip S. Alexander
University of Manchester, UK

Jonathan Ben-Dov
University of Haifa, Israel

Maria Cioată
University of Manchester, UK

John J. Collins
Yale, USA

Matthew A. Collins
University of Chester, UK

Philip R. Davies
University of Sheffield, UK

Kipp Davis
Trinity Western University, Canada

Devorah Dimant
University of Haifa, Israel

Ariel Feldman
Brite Divinity School, USA

Angela Kim Harkins

Boston College, USA

Charlotte Hempel
University of Birmingham, UK

Helen R. Jacobus
University College London, UK
List Of Contributors xxxix

Jutta Jokiranta
University of Helsinki, Finland

Reinhard G. Kratz
University of Göttingen, Germany

Armin Lange
University of Vienna, Austria

Hindy Najman
Oxford University, UK

Judith H. Newman
University of Toronto, Canada

Carol A. Newsom
Emory University, USA

Mladen Popović
University of Groningen, The Netherlands

Émile Puech
CNRS-Paris & EBAF-Jérusalem, France/Israel

Jean-Sébastien Rey
Université de Lorraine, Metz, France

Joan E. Taylor
King’s College London, UK

Eibert Tigchelaar
KU Leuven, Belgium

Emanuel Tov
Hebrew University, Israel

Elisa Uusimäki
University of Helsinki, Finland
xl List of Contributors

James C. VanderKam
University of Notre Dame, USA

Hanne von Weissenberg

University of Helsinki, Finland

Sidnie White Crawford

University of Nebraska-Lincoln, USA
Introduction

The year 1952 was an important one for the study of the Dead Sea Scrolls. Five
years after the discovery of the first cave, it marked the finding of the bulk of
Dead Sea Scrolls fragments in Caves 2–6. While Bedouin explorers and archae-
ologists were competing in the search for scrolls in the Judean Dessert, one of
the scholars who proved to make a major contribution to the study of these
ancient texts was born in Chichester, UK.1
After his studies in Oxford (BA and MA in Theology) and Cambridge (Post-
Graduate Certificate in Education), George J. Brooke crossed the Atlantic
in 1974 to embark on his doctoral studies at Claremont Graduate School, in
California. His initial plan was to work on Akkadian and Ugaritic texts with
Loren Fisher. A glimpse of what no doubt would have been an equally remark-
able career in this field is his essay on the Ugaritic letter RS 34.124 (KTU 2.72).2
However, after Fisher’s unexpected retirement, it was by chance, fate, or provi-
dence—depending on one’s world view—that George ended up specialising
in the Dead Sea Scrolls. He wrote his doctoral thesis on 4QFlorilegium, super-
vised by William H. Brownlee who was one of the first western scholars (with
John Trever) to have seen the Scrolls. The thesis was completed in 1977 and
appeared in print in 1985 under the title Exegesis at Qumran: 4QFlorilegium in
Its Jewish Context, dedicated to the memory of Brownlee who had passed away
in 1983.3 The William H. Brownlee Archive is now part of the holdings of the
John Rylands Library in Manchester.
Upon the completion of his doctoral work in 1977, George returned to
England as a Junior Research Fellow at the Oxford Centre for Postgraduate
Hebrew Studies (1977–78). Several papers written at the Centre mark the

1  The connection between the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls and the early life of George
Brooke has also been made in an article which complements the present introduction re-
garding Brooke’s contribution to scholarship: Eileen Schuller, “George J. Brooke and the Dead
Sea Scrolls,” BJRL 86 (2004): 175–96, a special issue of the Bulletin, edited by T. Larsen and
entitled Biblical Scholarship in the Twentieth Century: The Rylands Chair of Biblical Criticism
and Exegesis at the University of Manchester, 1904–2004.
2  George J. Brooke, “The Textual, Formal, and Historical Significance of Ugaritic Letter RS
34.124 (KTU 2.72),” Ugarit-Forschungen 11 (1979): 69–87.
3  George J. Brooke, Exegesis at Qumran: 4QFlorilegium in Its Jewish Context, JSOTSS 29 (Sheffield:
JSOT Press, 1985). It was reprinted in 2006, Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ���7 | doi ��.��63/9789004344532_002

2 Introduction

beginning of a steady flow of studies on topics that would become George’s

lifetime interests: scriptural interpretation in the Dead Sea Scrolls, Scrolls and
the New Testament, and Scrolls and theory.4
In 1978 George assumed the position of Lecturer in New Testament Studies
at Salisbury & Wells Theological College (1978–1984). While there he also
served as examining chaplain to the Bishop of Salisbury (1979–82), Director
of Studies (1980–84), Chaplain (1982–84), and Vice-Principal. By the time his
first book appeared in 1985, he had taken up an appointment at the University
of Manchester, first as Lecturer and later Senior Lecturer in Intertestamental
Literature (1984–97), followed by a year as Professor of Biblical Studies. From
1998 until his retirement in 2016 he held the Rylands Chair of Biblical Criticism
and Exegesis. Both the depth and breadth which characterise George’s careful
scholarship can already be seen in his first monograph. His point of depar-
ture is that “a proper understanding of 4QFlor depends upon the identification
of the exegetical techniques used in the construction of the argument of the
text.”5 He thus begins with a study of the Jewish use of the Bible in the late
Second Temple Period with particular reference to the exegetical methods of
Philo and the authors of the Targumim. This enabled him to identify the ex-
egetical principles and the framework within which scripture was used in its
historical context before embarking on a detailed study of his primary source,
4QFlorilegium.6 His analysis of 4QFlorilegium is followed by short studies of
a selection of texts from the Dead Sea Scrolls in order to shed further light
on the “Qumran exegetical method.”7 A reviewer captured the significance of
George’s detailed treatment of 4QFlorilegium by noting,

The detailed study of the 4QFlorilegium has now been set on a firm basis.
We are truly indebted to Brooke for producing the definitive commentary
on this important text, the meaning of which will be long debated.8

4  George J. Brooke, “The Amos-Numbers Midrash (CD 7:13b–8:1a) and Messianic Expectation,”
ZAW 92 (1980): 397–404; Brooke, “Qumran Pesher: Towards the Redefinition of a Genre,” RevQ
10 (1979–81): 483–503; Brooke, “The Feast of New Wine and the Question of Fasting,” ET 95
(1984): 175–76.
5  Brooke, Exegesis at Qumran, 5.
6  Brooke, Exegesis at Qumran, 80–278.
7  Brooke, Exegesis at Qumran, 279–352.
8  Lawrence H. Schiffman, “Review of Exegesis at Qumran: 4QFlorilegium in Its Jewish Context by
George J. Brooke,” JAOS 110 (1990): 157–58, 158.
Introduction 3

George’s first monograph shows him as a philologist with an eye for detail in
examining the text under consideration, but also as a scholar with a keen sense
of a text’s historical and literary context. He once warned a future PhD student
that the chosen text “will be your friend for life: thirty years later you will still
be asked to write dictionary articles about it.” That this statement was autobio-
graphical can be seen by George’s many contributions on Florilegium, most re-
cently to The Encyclopedia of the Bible and Its Reception.9 His views on the text
have evolved over time. Whereas in his first monograph he adopted the genre
label of Midrash to draw attention to the exegetical technique employed in
the text, he later suggested that 4QFlorilegium should be called Eschatological
Commentary A.10
A by-product of having studied with Brownlee is that George was given ac-
cess to a tiny DSS fragment which his late supervisor had in his possession as
the result of a gift from Archbishop Samuel. The fragment was subsequently
acquired by the Schøyen Collection, and George published the text of this
small part of the Rule of Blessings (1QSb) in 1994.11 His main contribution as
editor of Dead Sea Scrolls fragments was, however, as a member of the ex-
panded editorial team, publishing the official editions of 4QCommentary on
Genesis A–D and 4QCommentary on Malachi (4Q252–254a) in 1996.12 George

9  George J. Brooke, “Florilegium (4Q174),” in The Encyclopedia of the Bible and Its Reception:
Volume 9, ed. Hans-Josef Klauck et al. (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2014), cols. 255–57.
10  George J. Brooke, “From Florilegium or Midrash to Commentary: The Problem of Re-
naming an Adopted Manuscript,” in The Mermaid and the Partridge: Essays from the
Copenhagen Conference on Revising Texts from Cave Four, ed. George J. Brooke and Jesper
Høgenhaven, STDJ 96 (Leiden: Brill, 2011), 129–50.
11  George J. Brooke and James M. Robinson, A Further Fragment of 1QSb: The Schøyen
Collection MS 1909, Occasional Papers 30 (Claremont: Institute for Antiquity and
Christianity, 1994), repr. JJS 46 (1995): 120–33; see also DJD 26, 227–33, and, most recently,
“MS 1909. 1QRule of Blessings (1Q28b) frg. 25a, 1QSb V 22–25,” in Gleanings from the Caves:
Dead Sea Scrolls and Artifacts from the Schøyen Collection, ed. Torleif Elgvin, Kipp Davis,
and Michael Langlois, LSTS (London: T&T Clark International, 2016), 273–81.
12  George J. Brooke, “252. 4QCommentary on Genesis A,” “253. 4QCommentary on Genesis
B,” “253a. 4QCommentary on Malachi,” “254. 4QCommentary on Genesis C,” and “254a.
4QCommentary on Genesis D,” in Qumran Cave 4.XVII: Parabiblical Texts Part 3, ed. James C.
VanderKam, DJD 22 (Oxford: Clarendon, 1996), 185–236. These editions have also
been included in The Dead Sea Scrolls: Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek Texts with English
Translations, Volume 6b: Pesharim, Other Commentaries, and Related Documents, ed.
James H. Charlesworth and Henry W. Rietz, PTSDSSP 6b (Louisville: Westminster John
Knox; Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2002), 220–23, 224–33, 235–39, 244–47, and The Dead Sea
Scrolls Reader: Exegetical Texts, ed. Donald W. Parry and Emanuel Tov (Leiden: Brill, 2004),
106–17, 128–29. Reprinted in The Dead Sea Scrolls Reader: Volume I, ed. Donald W. Parry
4 Introduction

is currently collaborating on the publication of a revised and improved ver-

sion of DJD 5, published in 1968 by John Allegro with A.A. Anderson.13 A col-
lection of seminal studies laying the groundwork for this important project
appeared in 2011.14
Our reflections on George’s first monograph have thus established his de-
tailed philological scholarship as well as his contributions to the Dead Sea
Scrolls available to scholars. Two further significant publications provide an
opportunity to note George’s commitment to informing a larger public about
the Scrolls and to strengthening Manchester as a centre for Biblical and Dead
Sea Scrolls Studies. George was not the first Dead Sea Scrolls scholar to be
based at the University of Manchester. He was preceded, from 1954 to 1970, by
the most controversial member of the original team of editors, John Allegro,
whose scholarly achievements have been overshadowed by his unconvention-
al ideas and combative personality. George has contributed to a more balanced
assessment of Allegro’s contribution in various ways. In particular, he recog-
nised the tremendous value of Allegro’s work as a photographer and made the
Allegro Photograph Collection available on microfiche with an accompanying
catalogue.15
Another of Allegro’s accomplishments was arranging for the Copper
Scroll to be opened by Professor Wright Baker of the Manchester Institute
of Technology in 1955. To celebrate the fortieth anniversary of this major
achievement—which had defeated the efforts of a series of the most presti-
gious international institutions—and the fiftieth anniversary of the discovery
of the first scrolls, George organized several events in Manchester. An inter-
national conference on the Copper Scroll took place in 1996 the proceedings
of which George edited with Philip Davies.16 In the same year, the Copper

and Emanuel Tov in association with Geraldine I. Clements (Leiden: Brill, 2013), 470–81,
490–91.
13  George J. Brooke and Moshe J. Bernstein, with the assistance of Jesper Høgenhaven, eds.,
Qumran Cave 4 I (4Q158–186) (Leiden: Brill, forthcoming).
14  Brooke and Bernstein, The Mermaid and the Partridge.
15  George J. Brooke in collaboration with Helen. K. Bond, The Allegro Qumran Collection:
Introduction and Catalogue; Microfiches (Leiden: Brill/IDC, 1996), 51 pp. + 30 microfiches.
Published with the aid of a grant from the Leverhulme Trust.
16  George J. Brooke and Philip R. Davies, eds, Copper Scroll Studies, JSPSup 40 (London:
Sheffield Academic Press, 2002); reprinted in paperback (London: T&T Clark International,
2004). Other major collections of essays (co-)edited by George based on international
conferences held at Manchester include George J. Brooke, Adrian H.W. Curtis, and John F.
Healey, eds., Ugarit and the Bible: Proceedings of the International Symposium on Ugarit
and the Bible, Manchester, September 1992, UBL 11 (Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, 1994); Barnabas
Introduction 5

Scroll temporarily returned to Manchester to be exhibited in the Manchester

Museum. The exhibition Treasures from the Dead Sea: The Copper Scrolls after
2000 Years was opened by the Crown Princess of Jordan and visited by approxi-
mately 40,000 people between October 1997 and January 1998.17
In addition to the archives of William H. Brownlee and the Allegro Qumran
Photographs George was able to secure the Reed Collection of Dead Sea Scroll
fragments for the John Rylands Library. The Reed fragments were purchased
in 1997, making Manchester the only institution in the UK to own Scroll frag-
ments. The fragments are not inscribed, as a result of which they have not been
handled to the same degree as other Dead Sea Scrolls and are, therefore, in
pristine condition. The Reed fragments Collection has recently been instru-
mental in scientific research on the condition of the fragments, contributing
significantly to our understanding of heritage conservation.18
An issue close to George’s heart is a strong commitment to informing a
wider public about the significance of the Scrolls which is evident in a large
number of public lectures and media appearances.19 He concludes a scholarly
article on the British Media and the Dead Sea Scrolls by noting, that “perhaps
the future lies with the coffee-table book, rather than with the products of
newspaper or broadcasting journalists.”20

Lindars and George J. Brooke, eds., Septuagint, Scrolls and Cognate Writings: Papers
Presented to the International Symposium on the Septuagint and Its Relations to the Dead
Sea Scrolls and Other Writings (Manchester, 1990), SBLSCSS 33 (Atlanta: Scholars Press,
1992); George J. Brooke, ed., Temple Scroll Studies: Papers Presented at the International
Symposium on the Temple Scroll (Manchester, December 1987), JSPSup 7 (Sheffield: JSOT
Press, 1989).
17  Schuller, “George J. Brooke,” 196.
18  See, e.g., Ira Rabin and Oliver Hahn, “Dead Sea Scrolls Exhibitions around the World:
Reasons for Concern,” Restaurator 33 (2012): 101–21; Ira Rabin, “Archeometry of the Dead
Sea Scrolls,” DSD 20 (2013): 124–42, and the articles on the Reed archive and fragments:
George J. Brooke, “The Historical Documents at the John Rylands University Library: The
Reed Dead Sea Scrolls Collection,” e-Preservation Science 3 (2006): 35–40; George J. Brooke
et al., “The Ronald Reed Archive at the John Rylands University Library,” e-Preservation
Science 4 (2007): 9–12. George invited Ira Rabin as one of the speakers at the day confer-
ence he organised in 2007 to mark the 60th anniversary of the discovery of the Dead Sea
Scrolls.
19  His CV lists 33 items between 1987 and 2015 under the categories television, radio, and
newspapers.
20  George J. Brooke, “The Dead Sea Scrolls in the British Media (1987–2002),” DSD 12 (2005):
38–51, 51.
6 Introduction

Such a coffee-table book is, without a doubt, the best-selling of George’s

publications.21 Co-authored with Philip Davies and Phillip Callaway, The
Complete World of the Dead Sea Scrolls has sold over 60,000 copies and has
been translated into German, Spanish, Dutch, Hungarian, and Japanese.22
The volume is also widely used as an introductory textbook at universities
and colleges.
A formidable part of George’s ongoing legacy is channelled through his
teaching which is characterised by an exceptional ability to target (and chal-
lenge) students at the various levels. Like his scholarship a combination of
thoroughness and creativity are hallmarks also of George’s work in the class-
room. One of his earliest publications challenges the prevalent strategies in
teaching religion and advocates using works of art.23 He has been experiment-
ing with different teaching methods ever since, with assignments ranging from
a poem, to an exhibition brochure, to a cartoon. Doctoral and post-doctoral
researchers who have worked with George know well how dedicated he is to
every project he directs and to the future of each of his students.24
Another area where George modelled best practice in Humanities research
was by fostering research collaboration both in the UK and internationally. This
includes the fruitful and long standing collaboration between the Universities
of Manchester and Lausanne, which was initiated in the area of practical the-
ology, but subsequently proved extremely productive for biblical scholars, and
George continues to be one of its driving forces. The group eventually expand-
ed to include Geneva and Sheffield. Another collaboration with Sheffield was
the Manchester–Sheffield Centre for Dead Sea Scrolls Research (1994–2005)
established and led by George and Philip Davies until the latter retired in 2005.
Mention must also be made of the famous weekly Ehrhardt seminar which
George convened from 1990, shortly after the retirement of Barnabas Lindars,

21  Philip R. Davies, George J. Brooke, and Phillip R. Callaway, The Complete World of the Dead
Sea Scrolls (London: Thames and Hudson, 2002). Another coffee-table book to which
George contributed is Riches of the Rylands: The Special Collections of the University of
Manchester Library, ed. Rachel Beckett et al. (Manchester: Manchester University Press,
2015).
22  Qumran: Die Schriftrollen vom Toten Meer, trans. Thomas Bertram (Stuttgart: Theiss, 2002);
Los Rollos del Mar Muerto y su mundo, trans. Antonio Guzmán Guerra (Madrid: Alianza
Editorial, 2002); De Wereld van de Dode Zeerollen; trans. Aad van der Kooij (Abcoude:
Fontaine, 2003); A holt-tengeri tekercsek világa, trans. S. Róbert (Pécs: Alexandra Kiadója,
2003); Shikai Bunsho Daihyakka, trans. Y. Ikeda (Tokyo: Toyo Shorin, 2003).
23  George J. Brooke, “Religious Studies Through Art,” Learning for Living 14 (1974): 56, 65–67.
24  It is worth noting that George has been the external examiner of no less than 41 PhD
candidates (in the UK and abroad) between 1988 and 2015.
Introduction 7

until his own retirement in 2015. George’s hospitality of providing tea, coffee,
and biscuits is legendary and part of what he would call “creating research cul-
ture.” Other examples of George’s collaborations were his role as a member of
the founding editorial team of Dead Sea Discoveries in 1992 and his member-
ship of the Biblia Qumranica Project of the Institut für antikes Judentum und
hellenistische Religionsgeschichte in Tübingen. Since 1991 he has also been
editor of Journal of Semitic Studies, an internationally leading journal in its
field based at the University of Manchester. Finally, George has edited and co-
edited no less than 22 volumes.
George’s record of service to the guild is formidable and has been recognised
with several significant honours. He played a leading role in the establishment
of the International Organisation for Qumran Studies in 1989 and edited or co-
edited several volumes of its proceedings.25 George is a very active member of
the UK’s Society for Old Testament Study and served as Book List Editor from
2000–2006 and President in 2012. He has also served as president for the British
Association for Jewish Studies in 1999. In recognition of the significance of his
scholarship George received a Doctor of Divinity from the University of Oxford
in 2010 and was invited in 2015 to deliver the prestigious Wellhausen lecture
at the University of Göttingen.26 In the same year he was a visiting professor
at Yale University. George’s two current and forthcoming visiting appoint-
ments are at the University of Chester (2016–19) and a Dirk Smilde Professorial
Research Fellowship at the University of Groningen in the Netherlands (2018).
Anyone perusing the list of George’s major publications will be struck by
the large number of meticulously researched and innovative articles that have
contributed enormously to the fields of Hebrew Bible, Dead Sea Scrolls, and
New Testament. It is appropriate therefore to turn now to two recent impor-
tant collections of his essays. Each of these volumes is dedicated to an in-
terest which has characterised George’s scholarship. The first (The Dead Sea
Scrolls and the New Testament: Essays in Mutual Illumination) brings together
the fruits of several decades of tracking instances where the Dead Sea Scrolls
and the New Testament serve each other for “mutual illumination.”27 His work
highlights the importance of “indirect” links between the Dead Sea Scrolls
and the New Testament and pays careful attention to differences alongside

25  See the list of George’s publications above, pp. XVI–XXXVII.

26  To be published as The Dead Sea Scrolls and German Scholarship: Some Thoughts of an
Englishman Abroad, Wellhausen Vorlesung 2015 (Berlin: de Gruyter, forthcoming).
27  George J. Brooke, The Dead Sea Scrolls and the New Testament: Essays in Mutual Illumination
(London: SPCK, 2005).
8 Introduction

similarities.28 This collection of sixteen essays builds bridges between often

separate “worlds” of those working on the New Testament and those interest-
ed in the Dead Sea Scrolls. George recommends the study of the Scrolls for a
better understanding of the New Testament and its background. At the same
time, he reminds scholars of the Scrolls “not to omit the evidence of the New
Testament in their search of contemporary Jewish literature which might help
in the explanation of challenging fragmentary passages.”29
The second, more recent collection of studies (Reading the Dead Sea Scrolls:
Essays in Method) brings under one cover thirteen essays in which George grap-
ples with questions of method.30 George advocates determining the “success”
of working with a specific method by considering to what extent the method
helps us to understand the text better, or how it assists in reading it in a new
way. His motivation is “to attempt to bring the scrolls into dynamic interaction
with questions and methods, both old and new, rather than to be confined
to ever narrower specialist concerns.”31 Examples of traditional methods with
which George interacts are textual criticism and biblical theology. New meth-
ods he draws upon are mainly from social sciences and literary studies, such
as deviance theory, memory studies, psychological theory, spatial theory, genre
theory, and intertextuality. The volume showcases George as a dynamic schol-
ar who rarely remains in the same place and models a willingness to engage
with innovative approaches to the material he is working with.

The Scope of This Volume

In The Dead Sea Scrolls and the New Testament George describes his research as
being concerned “in one way or another with the text, transmission, and inter-
pretation of Scripture in the Dead Sea Scrolls and other Jewish literature con-
temporary [with the Scrolls].”32 In addition to biblical exegesis, in its widest
sense, George has also been particularly interested in the physical aspects of
the Scrolls, paying attention to their characteristics as material objects, rather
than only as vehicles for the transmission of a text. Many of his interests are
reflected in the essays collected here. This volume has been conceived as a

28  Brooke, Dead Sea Scrolls and New Testament, xviii.

29  Brooke, Dead Sea Scrolls and New Testament, xxii.
30  George J. Brooke, Reading the Dead Sea Scrolls: Essays in Method, SBLEJL 39 (Atlanta: SBL
Press, 2013).
31  Brooke, Dead Sea Scrolls and New Testament, xvi.
32  Brooke, Dead Sea Scrolls and New Testament, xv.
Introduction 9

coherent contribution to the question of textuality in the Dead Sea Scrolls ex-
plored from a wide range of perspectives. These include material aspects of the
texts, performance, reception, classification, relation to other textual worlds
and corpora, scribal culture and consciousness, textual plurality, composition,
reworking, form and genre, and the issue of the extent to which any of the texts
relate (to) social realities in the Second Temple period. The volume opens with
five essays exploring aspects of the complex processes leading to the formation
of sacred authoritative texts and collections thereof.
Hanne von Weissenberg and Elisa Uusimäki analyze the concept of “sacred
texts” in the context of the Qumran collection. Adopting an insider approach,
they raise the question of whether the people who produced and/or transmit-
ted these compositions had a category of “sacred texts.” Von Weissenberg and
Uusimäki start by pointing out that the terminology of sacred text does not
occur in the Qumran corpus. Next the authors discuss a variety of theories
developed in religious studies to shed light on the elusive nature of the “sa-
cred.” They conclude that in the Dead Sea Scrolls “sacred” serves as a graded,
relational category. Drawing on the work of Catherine Bell in particular, von
Weissenberg and Uusimäki suggest that what makes a text “sacred” is its origin
in divine revelation. The idea of writing as a form of divine encounter is also
attested in the sources. The sacredness of texts is thus related to the textual-
ization of revelation. Revelation, an experience of divine encounter, becomes
tangible by means of writing. “Sacred texts” may include any textualized form
of human-divine communication and divinely inspired interpretation.
Philip S. Alexander challenges the widespread view that it is anachronistic
to speak of a Bible or a canon with reference to the Dead Sea Scrolls. Such
a view, Alexander contends, presupposes a questionable gradual “crystalliza-
tion model.” He argues instead that the “fuzziness” often supposed to charac-
terize a body of authoritative writings in the Second Temple Period persisted
into the third century CE. His essay offers countless detailed points of argu-
ment on the continued role of the priesthood post 70 CE operating concomi-
tantly with the rabbis at a time of ongoing diversity. He further suggests that
the Mishnah constitutes something analogous to a second (rabbinic) canon
grounded in the “oral law” in terms of its function as a source of authority. It is
impossible to do justice in a summary of this kind to the richness of this pro-
vocative and thoughtful essay that deserves to be widely read.
Charlotte Hempel characterizes the Dead Sea Scrolls as “an unparalleled
lab for scholars on textuality in antiquity.” After reviewing a series of earlier
proposals to account for the plurality of Rule manuscripts she reaffirms the
position she has championed previously of advocating abandoning a “real-
ity literature” approach in favour of acknowledging a dynamic textual picture
10 Introduction

that spans across both future biblical and non-biblical texts found at Qumran.
Drawing on the work of Brian Stock, Pierre Bourdieu, and others, Hempel goes
on to stress the cultural and symbolic significance of the textual legacy to have
emerged from Qumran. Building on Stock’s insights on the nuanced make-up
of textual communities, she closes by challenging the widespread view of the
Qumran movement as made up of a socially monolithic scribal elite. Hempel
advocates instead that we allow for the hitherto largely ignored presence of a
stratum of illiterate and semi-literate members alongside a highly educated
elite. The tremendous social pay-off of being associated with a substantial
body of learned texts would have had an enormous impact on both rather dis-
tinct social groups as well as reinforced a shared sense of identity.
Responding to a scholarly lacuna highlighted by George, Judith H. Newman
foregrounds the contribution of liturgical texts to the formation of scripture.
Instead of asking about the origins of scripture or the closure of canons, she
shifts her attention to notions of how the sacred is revealed in the liturgical
practices attested in several Second Temple texts. Her case studies include
the account of daily prayer in Sir 39:5–8 which, if read alongside 21:15, dem-
onstrates the powerful role of liturgy in the growth of sapiential texts. Turning
to the confessional prayer of Daniel 9, 4QDane (4Q116, which Newman pre-
fers to classify as a prayer text rather than a copy of Daniel), and Bar 1:15–3:8,
she further demonstrates how in the Greco-Roman period prayer is seen as an
important means of accessing the divine, often in conversation with existing
scriptures.
Whereas most of the studies in this volume deal with texts, Sidnie White
Crawford focusses on a specific cave. She engages with a number of recent
studies, including her own, on the particular character of Qumran Cave 4. Her
emphasis on the archaeological characteristics of what are, in essence, two
caves (Cave 4a and 4b) directs our focus on Cave 4a for the written remains.
She also pays close attention to the chronological spread of the manuscript
fragments the oldest of which, estimated here to comprise around a quarter
of the fragmentary manuscripts, predate the Second Temple occupation of
the site at around 100 BCE. Finally, White Crawford finds further support for
her suggestion that the cave testifies to a scribal collection by identifying fur-
ther draft-like texts, especially 4Q234, 341, and 360, in addition to a number
of “workaday” texts recently identified by Charlotte Hempel. Overall White
Crawford’s contribution offers further important refinements of recent re-
search on the profile of the Qumran manuscript caves.
The following four essays offer new readings and incisive analyses of sev-
eral fragmentary manuscripts from Qumran. The first of these studies, by
Émile Puech, presents a previously unidentified small fragment, 1.5 by 0.7 cm,
Introduction 11

containing the remains of six letters of text over three lines. This fragment
belonged with Jean Starcky’s lot of fragments from Cave 4. Puech identifies the
manuscript as preserving parts of Dan 2:39–40 and offers here an edition of
this manuscript of Daniel (4QDnf [4Q116a]) accompanied by extensive notes
on readings.
Joan E. Taylor offers a comprehensive discussion of the significance and con-
text of the scribal exercise 4Q341, which has also been examined by the hon-
ouree of this volume. After a careful analysis of the text, she reviews various
hypotheses before surveying similar exercises, alphabetic texts, and inscrip-
tions from the Dead Sea region and beyond. Her purview also helpfully covers
the broader Hellenistic Roman evidence and both educational applications
and magical and apotropaic use of alphabets. Taylor concludes that 4Q341 is
indeed a scribal exercise of an accomplished scribe who practiced the ink flow
of his pen before embarking on another text.
Ariel Feldman explores physical aspects of the fragments preserved of 4Q47
(4QJosha) to draw conclusions about the nature of this text. He starts with a
reassessment of col. V, a section of the text that has received considerably less
attention than col. I. Feldman pays particular attention to frg. 15, suggesting
that it preserves the left bottom corner of the column. The ramifications of this
assumption, based on the evidence from the wider Qumran corpus suggest-
ing a level of consistency in the number of lines per column in a given manu-
script, is that the text of Joshua 4–10 as preserved in 4Q47 was significantly
shorter than that of the MT. Reconstructing col. V with the MT and the LXX, he
confirms that it indeed preserves a shorter text of Joshua 8. Col. I, containing
Joshua 4–5, may also omit chunks of text found in the MT and LXX versions
of Joshua. Feldman’s consideration of previously neglected material aspects of
4Q47 identifies this scroll as another abbreviated scriptural text which also in-
corporates an exegetical expansion. 4Q47 thus resists neat classification and
further problematizes the categories of scriptural, rewritten, and excerpted
texts that have survived from the Second Temple Period.
Kipp Davis takes up the eschatological fate of Esau’s grandson Amalek as
foretold in the interpretation of Genesis 36 in 4QCommentary on Genesis
(4Q252) 4. This is followed by an overview of the treatment of Esau and his de-
scendants in biblical and post-biblical literature. Having noted how Esau and
his offspring became a cipher for Israel’s ultimate enemy in Second Temple
Jewish sources, Davis ends with a discussion of the recently published text
4Q(?)Genesis Miniature from the Schøyen Collection as a possible apotropaic
amulet featuring a family history of Esau. He proposes the hypothesis that
such a list depicting outsiders may have functioned as part of a covenantal
ceremony.
12 Introduction

In line with the honouree’s interest in uses of scripture in the Dead Sea
Scrolls, the next four papers explore a variety of such uses in several key texts
from Qumran. Defining as exegetical only those texts from the Qumran li-
brary that interpret Jewish scriptures explicitly (not by retelling or expanding),
Armin Lange studies the use of the book of Jeremiah. Within the eight certain
uses of Jeremiah he recognises two explicit quotations, one implicit allusion,
four employments, and one reminiscence. In total, these preserve 23 words
from Jeremiah, with an additional nine words being found in the five less cer-
tain cases where scrolls may utilize Jeremiah. Next, Lange offers a detailed
study of these texts. He concludes his paper with a suggestion that all the ex-
egetical texts from the Qumran library that employ the book of Jeremiah with
any degree of certainty were written by members of the Essene community.
Matthew Collins re-examines the epithet “Ephraim,” prominently used in the
pesharim, to denote antagonists of the Yaḥad. He first analyses the occurrences
of “Judah” and “Ephraim” in the Hebrew Bible and the Dead Sea Scrolls. Collins
notes their ambiguity, i.e., the potential to refer both alternatively and simul-
taneously to the patriarchs, the tribes, the territories, etc. This makes these
terms suitable to be used flexibly as sectarian labels, allowing for multiple lay-
ers of meaning and interpretation. He thus problematizes a straightforward
and specific understanding of these typological labels as referring to specific
historical groups. Next Collins focusses in more detail on “Ephraim” and its
seemingly unprompted employment as an identifying label for “the Seekers
of Smooth Things.” Proposing an alternative sectarian provenance for this
conceptual identification, he argues that the explicit association of “Ephraim”
with “the Seekers of Smooth Things” and the community of the Liar in the
pesharim derives from and builds upon implicit scriptural allusions present in
the Damascus Document.
Helen Jacobus deals with several excerpted biblical quotations in the “non-
biblical” sectarian scrolls. She provides a detailed analysis of Num 24:17 as
cited in 4QTest (4Q175) 9–13, 1QM (1Q33) 11:6–7, and the Damascus Document
(CD) 7:19b–21. She argues that the connections between the excerpts suggest
that this particular textual cluster was intended to be read as a group of inter-
linked texts in a performative context. Her essay highlights the importance of
excerpted biblical citations for textual criticism of the Hebrew Bible. Many of
the excerpted texts are unique early witnesses to their source material. She
develops the argument that excerpts from biblical books in the “non-bibli-
cal” sectarian scrolls should be included in editions of the so-called “biblical”
scrolls. Furthermore, Jacobus creates a detailed model of classification to care-
fully distinguish between “rearrangements,” composite texts, and pluses and
minuses in the biblical textual traditions.
Introduction 13

Carol Newsom offers a creative and imaginative approach to the much dis-
cussed Niedrigkeitsdoxologie, the idea of comparing human lowliness to the
glory of God, in the Hodayot and the Maskil’s Hymn found at the end of some
copies of the Community Rule. After cautious reflections on methodology, she
offers fresh perspectives on the negative anthropology in the Dead Sea Scrolls.
In particular, she proposes rich inter-textual connections between the Hodayot,
the Maskil’s Hymn, the creation account in Genesis 2–3, and the book of Job.
Aspects of the work of ancient scribes and the growth of complex textual
traditions are explored in the following five essays. Emanuel Tov revisits the
question of the significance and contribution of the Judean Desert tefillin to
our understanding of the history of the text of the Hebrew Bible, a topic which
George addressed in his own contribution to a Festschrift honouring Emanuel
Tov.33 He surveys the choice of passages included in the Judean Desert tefillin
and then turns to an examination of their textual profiles and orthographic
features. Tov distinguishes several text types: proto-Masoretic, MT-like, SP and
proto-Samaritan, and LXX and forerunners and argues for a more compre-
hensive LXX-SP Palestinian group derived from an earlier MT group. Tov then
addresses the sequence of passages included and notes that tefillin that attest a
SP-LXX independent textual profile witness less conformity to the sequence of
passages laid down in rabbinic literature than the tefillin with a proto-MT/MT-
like text. He concludes that the tefillin that represent a SP-LXX independent
textual profile reflect a more “popular” tradition.
Taking the honouree’s study of the physical aspects of Pesher Habakkuk—
especially his views on 1QpHab 7:1–2 as developed further in a contribution to a
seminar at Yale University in 2015—as a point of departure,34 Eibert Tigchelaar
explores scribal practices in the Dead Sea Scrolls. Noting George’s proposal in
the Yale seminar paper that the haplography of ‫ אל‬and the dittography of ‫על‬
in 1QpHab 7:1–2 might suggest that the copyist used a Vorlage with the same
layout, Tigchelaar focuses on the question to what extent compositions attest-
ed in multiple copies attest line-by-line copying. He finds no clear evidence

33  George J. Brooke, “Deuteronomy 5–6 in the Phylacteries from Qumran Cave 4,” in
Emanuel: Studies in Hebrew Bible, Septuagint, and Dead Sea Scrolls in Honor of Emanuel
Tov, ed. Shalom M. Paul et al., VTSup 94 (Leiden: Brill, 2003), 57–70.
34  George J. Brooke, “Physicality, Paratextuality and Pesher Habakkuk,” in On the Fringe of
Commentary: Metatextuality in Ancient Near Eastern and Ancient Mediterranean Cultures,
ed. Sydney H. Aufrère, Philip S. Alexander, and Zlatko Pleše, OLA 232 (Leuven: Peeters,
2014), 175–94. George developed his thinking on 1QpHab 7:1–2 further in an unpublished
contribution to a seminar at Yale University, March 4, 2015, that formed part of a course
on “Editing Dead Sea Scrolls: Identification, Reconstruction, Interpretation.”
14 Introduction

of line-by-line copying in the Scrolls in general. Tigchelaar then turns to ex-

ploring instances of dittography more closely and advocates distinguishing
more carefully between dittographies in substantive passages that are more
likely caused by visual errors and dittographies of letters or syllables caused
by speech errors. He concludes his study with an examination of cases of dit-
tographic errors across line breaks in the Dead Sea Scrolls before returning to
1QpHab 7:1–2 and suggesting that a pause for re-inking at the end of line 2 may
have distracted the scribe as he began to copy line 2.
Mladen Popović investigates the opening lines of the Visions of Amram
which describes a “copy” (‫ )פרשגן‬of the book (4Q543 1 a–c 1). He starts with
an examination of the occurrences of the term ‫ פרשגן‬in the Hebrew Bible and
the Dead Sea Scrolls, followed by a brief survey of previous suggestions regard-
ing the use of this term in the Visions of Amram. Popović goes on to reflect
on the implications of this language for our understanding of ancient Jewish
pseudepigraphy and the scribal culture which gave rise to texts like the Visions
of Amram
Philip R. Davies revisits the question of the textual growth of the Damascus
Document (D). After some broader reflections on the place of halakhah in
the Qumran corpus, Davies turns his attention to a detailed case study of the
Penal Code in D and the Community Rule (S). In particular, Davies enters into
a sustained critical dialogue with the recently proposed analysis of the rela-
tionship of S and D by Reinhard Kratz. While Davies maintains the conviction
he outlined in his earlier publications that D predates S, he is convinced by
Kratz’s suggestion that the Penal Code originated in S and should be added to
a proposed S redaction of D as outlined by a number of scholars. Davies ends
on the intriguing suggestion that the “historicizing of the Teacher” was part of
a late stage in the literary growth of D that also comprised a wider S redaction
including the adaptation of the S penal code.
Maria Cioată problematizes the notion of “a text” as she examines the me-
dieval Hebrew re-translations of the book of Tobit, particularly the two “ver-
sions” published by Moses Gaster in 1896. She addresses the question of when
is a text as testified in a particular manuscript or printed book still a telling (a
term to be preferred over “version”) of a known text, and when is it better to be
considered as a new or different text? In her close reading of the Hebrew tell-
ings of Tobit she experiments with different approaches, combining insights
from folklore and literary studies. Noticing, with Stanley Fish, that a text does
not exist outside of the “interpretative communities” can help to rehabilitate
the later witnesses to Tobit. “Meanings” of a story are “actualized” as it is read
(or told) and adjusted over time in different communities and attested in
Introduction 15

different manuscripts and printed editions. The re-appreciation of the medi-

eval Hebrew Tobit tradition proposed in this article thus contributes to a fuller
understanding of the story of Tobit.
The last section of the volume includes eight papers that offer new insights
on familiar texts from Qumran. Thus James VanderKam reconsiders the much
discussed question of the relationship between the book of Jubilees and the
Genesis Apocryphon. The wide-spread scholarly consensus is that although
both works are based on an interpretation of Genesis, the presence of a series
of shared interpretative traditions suggests some kind of inter-textual relation-
ship between them. VanderKam offers two case studies that are of particular
significance for this debate. On the chronology of Abram and Sarai in Canaan
and Egypt he concludes that a dependence of the Apocryphon on Jubilees of-
fers the “more economical” explanation without being able to rule out a shared
source. His second case study concerns female characters and suggests that it
is unlikely that the Apocryphon was a source for Jubilees, since the latter omits
material that would have appealed to its Tendenz, especially on endogamy. In
sum, VanderKam concludes that although it is unlikely that the Apocryphon
was a source for Jubilees, the Apocryphon may have used Jubilees or both
shared a common source(s).
Devorah Dimant returns to the book of Tobit which she examines in the
context of the Aramaic texts found at Qumran. Advocating for the use of this
literary corpus as a major key for interpreting Tobit, she focusses on the themes
of endogamy, demonology, dualism, burial, and law. Under the first theme she
establishes the precise nature of kinship between Tobiah and Sarah: they are
first cousins. The biblical patriarchal model of marrying one’s cousin is also
attested in the Aramaic Levi Document, the Genesis Apocryphon, Visions
of Amram, and hinted at in 1 Enoch. She then proceeds with identifying and
discussing affinities between Tobit and other Aramaic texts from Qumran in
the remaining three areas, with particular emphasis on the calendar and ha­
lakhah. Dimant concludes by noting that the relationship between Tobit and
the Aramaic texts from Qumran extends beyond a shared language to thematic
connections. Furthermore, she highlights the affinities to the topos of tales set
at a foreign court, as well as connections to halakhic positions expressed in
Jubilees and other texts from Qumran.
John Collins examines the widely debated issue of whether the Hodayot re-
flect a belief in resurrection or rather signify an elevated present experience in
this life for some. He is here entering into a dialogue not only with the work
on this topic by Émile Puech and others, but also with George’s contribution
to this debate. After a cautious evaluation of Josephus’s description of the
16 Introduction

Essenes in relation to the evidence from Qumran, Collins turns his attention
towards the eschatology of the sectarian scrolls. He pays particular attention to
references to the afterlife in the Scrolls, as well as realized eschatology, espe-
cially in 1QHa 12:6–13:6. Collins eloquently observes that “the remarkable thing
about the sectarian scrolls is their failure to acknowledge death as a punctua-
tion mark in the transition to eternal life.”35
Jonathan Ben-Dov interprets the reference to the Book of Hagi in 1QSa 1:7
as focussing on the mode of learning captured by the term, rather than the
content of the book as customarily understood. In support of his hypothesis he
draws on a series of rabbinic passages such as b. Ber. 28:2 where R. Eliezer in-
structs his disciples to prevent their sons from higayon in favour of instruction
at the feet of the sages and y. Sanh. 28:1 (following T.S. F17.27) where cursory
study (higayon) is distinguished from penetrating scholarship. According to
Ben-Dov, 1QSa offers an endorsement of recitation (based on the root hgh) as
part of a pedagogical programme. In contrast to 1QSa, Ben-Dov acknowledges
that the book of Hagi, as it occurs in CD 10, 13, and 14, refers to the expertise of
authoritative figures such as judges, priests—and, in cases where the priest is
not suitably qualified, a Levite—rather than a cursory pedagogical stage.
Jutta Jokiranta’s analysis of 4Q286 (Berakhota) combines a close reading
of the primary text with insights from theories of ritualization. Rather than
employing the dominant discourse of blessing, and in the absence of any
preserved references to praise, she approaches fragments 1 and 5 in terms of
“contemplation on the heavenly and earthly realms.” Paying particular atten-
tion to the remains of lists contained in these fragments, Jokiranta stresses the
universal character of the list in 4Q286 5. She thus identifies a sense of contem-
plating the divine in the lists, rather than an address to God which is entirely
lacking. She concludes by suggesting that insights from ritual studies suggest
that lists may alleviate anxiety by providing an ordered environment and a
sense of harmony.
Hindy Najman develops a fresh approach by reading 4QInstruction, one of
the key wisdom compositions from Qumran, in its Jewish Hellenistic context.
She challenges the constraints entailed by classifications of texts by genre and
language and offers instead an insightful comparison between 4QInstruction
and the work of Philo. Najman concludes with a reassessment of the trajectory
of Jewish wisdom from a reliance on observation via the sceptical tradition
found especially in Job to what she calls a transcendent wisdom tradition rep-
resented by 4QInstruction and Philo.

35  See p. 415 below.

Introduction 17

Jean-Sébastien Rey looks into the uses of the phrase “knowledge of good and
evil” in Second Temple texts that deal with the account of creation. In Genesis
human beings obtain the knowledge of good and evil by transgressing a di-
vine prohibition. Rey’s examples of the later appropriation of this expression
in Sir 17:1–14, 4Q303 (Meditation on Creation A), 4QInstruction, 1QS 4:25–26,
and 1QSa 1:10–11 refrain from referring to any prohibition or transgression.
Instead, knowledge of good and evil is the result of a revelation in Ben Sira
and 1QS, the fruit of the meditation on the raz niheyeh in 4QInstruction, and
the outcome of education in 1QSa. Rather than connected with death, knowl-
edge of good and evil comes to be understood as ethical discernment, linked
with wisdom and law. In conclusion Rey observes that the authors of the texts
under consideration approached their source, the book of Genesis, freely and
creatively while still taking its authority for granted.
Angela Kim Harkins notices a shift in the scholarly analysis of ancient texts,
from an almost exclusive focus on historical reconstruction toward a grow-
ing interest in how these writings might have been experienced by living
communities. This experiential and emotional aspect of ancient texts is left
unaddressed in traditional historical criticism, but can be explored with the
use of new approaches in religious studies that use an integrative understand-
ing of the embodied mind (e.g., the cognitive study of religion, emotion stud-
ies, and performance studies). She provides an insightful analysis of the history
of scholarship on the figure of the Teacher of Righteousness to demonstrate
these changes and advocates the continued use of integrative approaches to
the Scrolls that draw on the social sciences.
Reinhard G. Kratz’s constribution seeks to mediate between the “historical”
and the “literary” Teacher of Righteousness. After a detailed examination of
the references to the ‘Teacher of Righteousness’ (or “the Righteous Teacher”)
in the Damascus Document and an exploration of the origins of the expres-
sion, he summarises how the presentation of this figure (or office) is devel-
oped in the pesharim. He observes that in the pesharim the presentation of
the Teacher resembles the depiction of the ideal scribe in Ben Sira 39: a pious,
righteous scribe, who in the tradition of Moses, the prophets, and Ezra, studies
the Torah and the prophets and all the other biblical and para-biblical writings
day and night. Kratz thus follows the Groningen Hypothesis in understanding
the Teacher of Righteousness and his opponents the “Man of the Lie” and the
“Wicked Priest” as standing not for an actual historical figure, but as represent-
ing certain positions. He ends with reflections on the historical context for the
literary construction of the Teacher of Righteousness and his enemies and sug-
gests that it was likely found in conflicts between different Judean groups in
the Second Temple period.
18 Introduction

It is a pleasure to offer this collection of studies to George. His own contri-

butions to Festschriften of friends and colleagues are characterised by a gener-
ous and careful engagement with their work. We hope that this volume carries
forward his legacy of creative and thoughtful scholarship and is thus a worthy
tribute to his enormous contribution to biblical and Qumran studies.

Ariel Feldman, Maria Cioată, and Charlotte Hempel

Fort Worth, Manchester, and Birmingham
December 19th 2016
 part 1
Is There a Text in This Cave?

∵
Are There Sacred Texts in Qumran? The Concept
of Sacred Text in Light of the Qumran Collection

Hanne von Weissenberg and Elisa Uusimäki

Many of George Brooke’s pioneering publications on the Dead Sea Scrolls have
concerned scriptural interpretation and textual authority in the late Second
Temple era.1 In this article, written in honour of our esteemed teacher and
mentor whose generosity knows no bounds, we wish to complement previous
research on ancient Jewish attitudes towards textuality by analysing the con-
cept of “sacred texts” in the context of the Qumran collection. Did the people
who produced and/or transmitted these compositions (the “Yaḥad movement”
hereafter) have a category of “sacred texts”?2 If that was the case, which liter-
ary works might they have included in this category? The aim of this article is
to explore the concept of “sacred texts” held by the Yaḥad movement from an
insider (emic) point of view.
In the Hebrew and Aramaic Jewish texts, the earliest explicit references to
“sacred writings” (‫ )כתבי הקודש‬appear in rabbinic literature.3 Greek Jewish
sources from the late Second Temple period differ insofar as several authors
use a variety of terms related to sacred writings.4 Such references are entirely

1  See the articles collected in George J. Brooke, Reading the Dead Sea Scrolls: Essays in Method,
SBLEJL 39 (Atlanta: SBL Press, 2013).
2  It is assumed here that the Qumran collection reflects a wider movement which consisted of
multiple communities and was not restricted to Khirbet Qumran. To some extent, the corpus
may also reflect the views of other Jews of the Second Temple period beyond this particular
movement. See, e.g., John J. Collins, Beyond the Qumran Community: The Sectarian Movement
of the Dead Sea Scrolls (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010); George J. Brooke, “Crisis Without,
Crisis Within: Changes and Developments in the Dead Sea Scrolls Movement,” in Judaism
and Crisis: Crisis as a Catalyst in Jewish Cultural History, ed. Armin Lange, K.F. Diethard
Römheld and Matthias Weigold, SIJD 9 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2011), 89–107;
Jutta Jokiranta, Social Identity and Sectarianism in the Qumran Movement, STDJ 105 (Leiden:
Brill, 2013).
3  See m. Šabb. 13:1; m. Yad. 3:2, 5; 4:6; t. Šabb. 16:1.
4  In Let. Aris. 46, ὁ ἅγιος νόμος refers to the object of translation. 1 Macc 12:9 mentions τὰ
βιβλία τὰ ἅγια and 2 Macc 8:23 refers to τὴν ἱερὰν βίβλον. In the New Testament, Paul refers
to γραφαῖς ἁγίαις (Rom 1:2). Another attestation of a related term appears in 2 Tim 3:15–16
(ἱερὰ γράμματα). Philo and Josephus refer to sacred writings in various ways, and their use
of terminology is not identical. The referents of these terms need to be determined care-
fully, without presupposing any kind of “canon consciousness.” The terminology used in the

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ���7 | doi ��.��63/9789004344532_003

22 von Weissenberg and Uusimäki

lacking in the Qumran corpus. It is necessary to consider, therefore, whether it

is appropriate to associate the term “sacred” with texts in an ancient setting if
the term was not explicitly employed by those who used these texts.
The analysis will begin with exploring the elusive nature of the term
“sacred” in light of selected theories that have been developed in religious
studies. The investigation will continue with a construction of the category of
“sacred” in the context of the Dead Sea Scrolls, and proceed to explore its over-
lap with texts and writing. It will be argued that “sacred” serves as a graded, re-
lational category, and the “sacredness” of texts pertains to their claimed origin
in divine revelation. The idea of writing as a form of divine encounter is also
attested in the extant sources.
The sacredness of texts is related to the textualization of revelation, the
phenomenon in which revelation, an experience of divine encounter, becomes
tangible by means of writing. The textualization of revelation is not identical
with the “canonical process,” and textualization does not result in the end of
revelation.5 Thus, the Yaḥad movement’s category of “sacred texts” is identical
neither with the Hebrew Bible nor with its “pre-canonical” form. Rather, we
argue that “sacred texts” may include any textualized form of human-divine
communication and divinely inspired interpretation.

Sacred Texts in Jewish Antiquity?

What is meant by the “sacredness” of texts?6 Catherine Bell reminds us that

“ ‘[s]criptures’ as sacred texts vary widely in terms of the cultural constructions

Greek texts goes beyond the scope of this article, but it has been discussed to some extent by
Jan Bremmer, “From Holy Books to Holy Bible: An Itinerary from Ancient Greece to Modern
Islam via Second Temple Judaism and Early Christianity,” in Authoritative Scriptures in Ancient
Judaism, ed. Mladen Popović, JSJSup 144 (Leiden: Brill, 2010), 327–60. Bremmer suggests that
the Jews “adopted the new terminology of ‘holy book(s)’ ” during the early Hellenistic period.
See also Albert Henrichs, “ ‘Hieroi Logoi’ and ‘Hierai Bibloi’: The (Un)Written Margins of the
Sacred in Ancient Greece,” HSCP 101 (2003): 207–66; Michael L. Satlow, How the Bible Became
Holy (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2014).
5  Hindy Najman, Losing the Temple and Recovering the Future: An Analysis of 4 Ezra (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2014), 15.
6  There are important studies on the topic of holiness in the Hebrew Bible by Jacob Milgrom
and Baruch A. Levine, but they do not treat the sacredness of texts. See Levine, “The Language
of Holiness,” in Backgrounds for the Bible, ed. Murphy P. O’Connor and David N. Freedman
(Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 1987), 241–56; Milgrom, Leviticus I–III (New York: Yale University
Press, 1998–2001). See also Hannah K. Harrington, Holiness: Rabbinic Judaism and the Greco-
Roman World (London: Routledge, 2001).
Are There Sacred Texts in Qumran ? 23

of textuality as well as their cultural understandings of sacrality.”7 Moreover,

since concepts in general are dynamic, changing, and culturally dependent,8
it cannot be assumed that the modern notion of “sacred texts,” often used in
parallel with the equally vague concept of “scripture,” is immediately relevant
or applicable in the pre-canonical context of late Second Temple Judaism.9
The emergence of sacred and/or authoritative texts in Judaism has been re-
considered in the past decades. Acknowledging the pre-canonical state of tex-
tual instability and the lack of a fixed canon at the turn of the era, scholars have
attempted to find more precise ways to describe the process in which a text
gradually received an authoritative status and became scripture.10 Similarly,
the relationship between revelation and textuality in the ancient context has
been reconsidered, and many of the long held assumptions are under detailed
scrutiny. The terminology used in the field has also proved to be problematic
which has led to a change in preferred vocabulary.11 To replace “biblical,”

7  Catherine Bell, “Scriptures—Text and Then Some,” in Theorizing Scriptures: New Critical
Orientations to a Cultural Phenomenon, ed. Vincent L. Wimbush (New Brunswick: Rutgers
University Press, 2008), 23–28, esp. 25.
8  See Veikko Anttonen, “What Is It That We Call ‘Religion’? Analyzing the Epistemological
Status of the Sacred as a Scholarly Category in Comparative Religion,” in Perspectives on
Method and Theory in the Study of Religion, ed. Armin W. Geertz and Russell T. McCutcheon
(Leiden: Brill, 2000), 195–206, esp. 201.
9  More appropriate than ever is the criticism by Miriam Levering, directed against un-re-
flected use of concepts, which was presented some twenty years ago from the perspective
of comparative science of religion: “ ‘[S]acred texts’ is in practice often used with much
the same assumptions that informed our biased concepts of ‘scripture’ and ‘canon,’ with
the addition of some insights about the ‘holy’ or the ‘sacred’ derived from Eliadian reflec-
tions.” See Levering, “Introduction: Rethinking Scripture,” in Rethinking Scripture: Essays
From a Comparative Perspective, ed. Miriam Levering (Albany: State University of New
York Press, 1989), 4.
10  For the process of how a text became a scriptural text, see, e.g., Eugene Ulrich, “From
Literature to Scripture: Reflections on the Growth of a Text’s Authoritativeness,” DSD 10
(2003): 3–25. It should be noted that the term “scripturalization” can and has been used
in different senses in modern scholarship. For instance, George J. Brooke describes the
scripturalization of Jewish literary trajectories as “the use of authoritative scriptural refer-
ences to adapt, expand or explain features in a received tradition.” See Brooke, “Aspects
of Matthew’s Use of Scripture in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in A Teacher for All
Generations: Essays in Honor of James C. VanderKam, ed. Eric F. Mason et al., JSJSup 153
(Leiden: Brill, 2011), 821–38, esp. 835.
11  This change expresses how scholars are becoming increasingly aware of the ways in
which their concepts are contaminated by presuppositions based on the modern notion
of the Bible as a closed canon and a printed book.
24 von Weissenberg and Uusimäki

scholars have begun to use terms such as “authoritative” and “sacred” in order
to refer to texts that were gaining an elevated status.12
Yet such alternative terms result in additional problems. Their usage often
reinforces the primacy of those texts that later became part of the Hebrew
Bible; there is a true difficulty in letting go of the “canon mindset” which sees
those textual products that did not end up in the canon as secondary. Moreover,
there is some confusion as to whether scholars employ “authoritative” or “sa-
cred” in a descriptive manner as referring to the insider (emic) experience of
the ancients, or whether they are applied as an outsider’s analytical categories
(etic) from the modern perspective. In some cases, scholars use “sacred texts”
as a technical term which designates religious texts with some authority in the
particular community where they were read and copied. Even so, the concept’s
exact meaning depends on one’s understanding of both “sacred” and “text.”
The complexity of textuality cannot be examined comprehensively here, but
a few clarifying remarks are in order. As briefly mentioned, the fluidity of tex-
tual compositions (both biblical and non-biblical) in the late Second Temple
era has become clear in recent years.13 It has also been stressed that texts are not
only literature to be studied and copied out, but they serve performative func-

12  The attribute “authoritative” is often used, although it is seldom expressed what it means.
The category of sacred texts is sometimes used synonymously with “authoritative texts”
or “scripture,” or as referring to the emerging Bible or canon. For different ways to un-
derstand these categories, see, e.g., Eugene Ulrich, The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Origins
of the Bible, SDSSRL (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999); Ulrich, “The Bible in the Making:
The Scriptures Found at Qumran,” in The Bible at Qumran: Text, Shape, and Interpretation,
ed. Peter Flint et al., SDSSRL (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2001), 51–66, esp. 51; Peter Flint
and James C. VanderKam, The Meaning of the Dead Sea Scrolls (London: T&T Clark,
2002), 172; Emanuel Tov, Scribal Practices and Approaches Reflected in the Texts Found in
the Judaean Desert, STDJ 54 (Leiden: Brill, 2004), 250; Sidnie White Crawford, Rewriting
Scripture in Second Temple Times, SDSSRL (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008), 6; Lee Martin
MacDonald, Forgotten Scriptures: The Selection and Rejection of Early Religious Writings
(Louisville: John Knox Press, 2009), 102; Marcus Tso, Ethics in the Qumran Community: An
Interdisciplinary Investigation, WUNT 292 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2010), 76.
13  Texts classified as “rewritten scripture” blur the boundaries between a text and its com-
position, transmission, and interpretation. This is further visible in the fluidity of textual
forms of several compositions. Eva Mroczek highlights the complexity of the composi-
tions’ relationship to their material forms: “[W]hen ancient Judeans spoke of ‘Torah’ or
‘Psalms,’ they were not thinking of specific titles with particular textual forms, but of loose
ideal types of divine instruction or writing, imaginative concepts that were reflected in
one way or another through actual, growing collections of psalms and laws.” See Mroczek,
“Thinking Digitally about the Dead Sea Scrolls: Book History Before and Beyond the Book,”
Book History 14 (2011): 241–69, esp. 251. For the difficulties in identifying the relationship
Are There Sacred Texts in Qumran ? 25

tions, thus having both a written and an oral/aural character.14 Although liter-
ary works do not exist independently of their textual representations, scriptural
texts in particular stand for something more than the written word.15 The term
“Torah” is a case in point: while Israel’s revelation is crystallized in textual form
in the Torah,16 the concept means more than a specific collection of texts and
its exact wording.17 The physical scroll containing the Torah can be linked with,
but it is not identical to, the (sacred) tradition it represents.

The Concept of “Sacred” in Religious Studies

In order to gain a deeper insight into the sacredness of texts (or the lack there-
of) in the Yaḥad movement, the concept of “sacred,” notoriously difficult to
“operationalize,”18 needs to be discussed. What kinds of analytical issues are at
play when the concept is deployed? Before considering the emic understand-
ing of “sacred” in the Yaḥad movement, the meaning of the same concept in a
few central theories of Religionswissenschaft is addressed.

between texts, manuscripts, and works, see also Liv Ingeborg Lied, “Text—Work—
Manuscript: What Is an ‘Old Testament Pseudepigraphon’?” JSP 25/2 (2015): 150–65.
14  In the pre-canonical period (and probably even later, until the era of printed books), most
Jews encountered (religious) texts “recited or retold”; Elsie Stern, “Concepts of Scripture
in the Synagogue Service,” in Jewish Concepts of Scripture: A Comparative Introduction, ed.
Benjamin D. Sommer (New York: New York University Press, 2012), 15–30, esp. 15.
15  The term “scripture” implies the written nature of sacred texts. Nevertheless, scholars in
religious studies have demonstrated that scripture as a generic concept does not require
a fixed textual form as a qualifying marker. As for the Second Temple evidence, it is clear
that textual fixity is not a necessary requirement for scripture. See, e.g., the articles in
Levering, Rethinking Scripture: Essays from a Comparative Perspective.
16  See Jonathan Ben-Dov, “Writing as Oracle and Law: New Contexts for the Book-Find of
King Josiah,” JBL 127 (2008): 223–39, esp. 225–29.
17  This is apparent in the liturgical and ritual use of the Torah, as well as in the existence
of the many rewritten forms of (parts of) the Pentateuchal text. See, e.g., Hindy Najman,
“Torah and Tradition,” in Dictionary of Early Judaism, ed. John J. Collins and Daniel C.
Harlow (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010), 1316–17: “Torah was not limited to a particular
corpus of texts but was inextricably linked to a broader tradition of extra-biblical law
and narrative, interpretation, and cosmic wisdom.” In her discussion on Veda and Torah,
Barbara A. Holding urges us to rethink the textuality of scripture. Scripture is not only a
textual phenomenon but also “a cosmological principle.” See Holding, Veda and Torah:
Transcending the Textuality of Scripture (Albany: SUNY Press, 1996), 5.
18  As pointed out by Ilkka Pyysiäinen, “Cognitive Science of Religion: State-of-the-Art,”
Journal of the Cognitive Science of Religion 1 (2012): 5–28, esp. 16.
26 von Weissenberg and Uusimäki

In general, scholarly analyses of “sacred” are based on two types of assump-

tions. According to some classical, influential explanations of religion, the con-
cept of “sacred” and the dichotomy between “sacred” and “profane” constitute
the premise of religion and religious experience. “Sacred” is regarded as a fun-
damental, defining element of religion, as well as a universal component of
human experience.19 In contrast, other scholars emphasize that the concept
of “sacred” is the product of religion and human activity.20
The different approaches to “sacred” involve certain theoretical assumptions
concerning the nature of reality, and certain epistemological consequences
follow from their application.21 Hence, scholars need to be(come) aware of the
explanatory frameworks they apply to the primary sources. Meanwhile, they
should be able to distinguish between their own worldview and that of those
who describe their religious experience in the primary sources under inves-
tigation.22 In order to gain a better understanding of the complex scholarly
discourse, let us next review the research history of “sacred” in the 20th and
21st centuries in more detail.
The concept of “holy/sacred” was introduced into Religionswissenschaft
by Rudolf Otto and further developed by Mircea Eliade.23 For Otto, religion
is about experiencing the holy, mysterium tremendum et fascinans, which in-
duces the numinous experience of the “wholly other” (ganz andere). Eliade’s
concept of “sacred” is influenced by Otto’s idea of holy; it relates to the

19  See, e.g., Émile Durkheim, The Elementary Forms of the Religious Life, trans. Carol Cosman
(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1912/2008), 52: “The division of the world into two do-
mains, the one containing all that is sacred, the other all that is profane, is the distinctive
trait of all religious thought.” See also Rudolf Otto, The Idea of the Holy: An Inquiry into the
Non-Rational Factor in the Idea of the Divine and Its Relation to the Rational, trans. John W.
Harvey, 2nd ed. (London: Oxford University Press, 1950); Mircea Eliade, The Sacred and
the Profane: The Nature of Religion, trans. Willard R. Trask (Orlando: Harcourt, 1957).
20  See, e.g., Roy A. Rappaport, Ritual and Religion in the Making of Humanity (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1999), 402; Veikko Anttonen, “Toward a Cognitive Theory of
the Sacred: An Ethnographic Approach,” Folklore 14 (2000): 41–48.
21  For instance, Veikko Anttonen points out that “the phenomenological understanding of
the sacred as a dynamic force originating in another world blurs the boundaries of reli-
gious and scientific discourses.” See Anttonen “Sacred,” in Guide to the Study of Religion,
ed. Willi Braun and Russell T. McCutcheon (London: Cassell Academic Publishers, 1999),
271–82, esp. 277.
22  Otto and Eliade (see note 19 above and more below) view religious experience and reli-
gion as something sui generis. This approach can be contrasted with cognitive science of
religion, which seeks to understand religious experience as a human psychological phe-
nomenon; see Pyysiäinen, “Cognitive Science of Religion,” 14.
23  Otto, The Idea of the Holy; Eliade, The Sacred and the Profane.
Are There Sacred Texts in Qumran ? 27

experience of a transcendent other. “Sacred” is a powerful reality that mani-

fests itself in the human world through “hierophany,” its incarnation in a natu-
ral object.24 Eliade does not separately discuss “sacred texts,” but in his terms,
the present question could be formulated as follows: can a text be(come) a
locus of hierophany, an incarnation of “sacred”?
The distinctive features in Otto’s and Eliade’s definitions are the metaphysi-
cal assumptions they make about the nature of reality: there exists another
reality that is separate from the natural world. “Sacred” is experienced through
revelation, and human religious experiences are reactions to this other realm.
In spite of being groundbreaking in their time, the theories proposed by Otto
and Eliade have been largely abandoned in modern religious studies, although
scholars in biblical and cognate studies continue to refer to them.25 Otto and
Eliade indeed remind scholars of the need to take seriously the religious ex-
perience of the ancient people as it is attested in the primary sources. This
aspiration can be maintained even though the universality of “sacred” or the
sui generis nature of religious experience is rejected.
The approach represented by Otto and Eliade can be contrasted with either
functionalism, represented, for instance, by Émile Durkheim, or with some of
the more recent approaches to religion, particularly cognitive science of reli-
gion. Like Eliade, Durkheim stresses the difference between “sacred” and “pro-
fane,” as well as the universality of these categories. Yet, in contrast to Otto
and Eliade, Durkheim emphasizes the social aspect of religion; the distinction
between “sacred” and “profane” is not made by an individual.26 Nothing is in-
herently sacred for Durkheim. Instead, it is the mark imprinted by society on
an object, time, or place that makes it “sacred.” This notion resembles the view

24  Eliade, The Sacred and the Profane, 11. Eliade does not, however, offer any clarification of
the epistemological character of the sacred.
25  For instance, there is a recent application of Otto’s idea of the holy in Philip Alexander’s
insightful book The Mystical Texts, LSTS 7 (Bloomsbury: T&T Clark, 2006).
26  Durkheim, The Elementary Forms of the Religious Life. See also Seth D. Kunin, Religion: The
Modern Theories (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2003), 19. Furthermore, the in-
adequacy of the binary distinction between “sacred” and “profane” has been highlighted
by several scholars. During his field studies in Brazil, ethnographer Claude Lévi-Strauss
observed how wooden figurines used by children as toys were taken over by the elderly
women who revered them; see Lévi-Strauss, Tristes tropiques: An Anthropological Study of
Primitive Societies in Brazil, trans. John Russell (New York: Atheneum, 1955/1964), 155–56.
Pascal Boyer, Religion Explained: The Evolutionary Origins of Religious Thought (New York:
Basic Books, 2001), 57, gives an example of the opposite, that is, ritual masks that are used
as toys after the ceremony.
28 von Weissenberg and Uusimäki

of Jonathan Z. Smith who underlines ritual as a means of constructing the cat-

egory of “sacred.”27
The idea of “sacred” as a socially defined entity has been further developed
by Veikko Anttonen who conceptualizes it as a theoretical construct, and not as
a category with a supernatural referent.28 In his opinion, “sacred” is a culturally
dependent cognitive category which both “separates” and “binds.”29 Anttonen
reminds one of Durkheim in stating that “people participate in sacred making
activities.”30 “Sacred” is created by societies through separation, classification,
and categorization, and it is symbolically represented in human behaviour.
Anttonen emphasizes the “set-apartness” of “sacred,” which is recognizable
even by an “outsider” through specific behavioral rules, signs, and symbols.31
Overall, the main difference is that some scholars (esp. Otto and Eliade) see
“sacred” as something essentially, qualitatively, or ontologically different from
“profane,” and the experience of “sacred” as pointing to the existence of another
world, or a superhuman or transcendent other. Other scholars (esp. Durkheim
and Smith) approach “sacred” as a socially constructed category; there is noth-
ing inherently sacred, but the concept is essentially created by human choices
and actions, as well as by the discourse on “sacred” and its boundaries. Next,
these theories of religious studies are used to highlight different aspects of the
concept of “sacred” in the Qumran corpus.

The Concept of “Sacred” in the Dead Sea Scrolls

A brief survey of the Hebrew term ‫ קדש‬and its derivatives is necessary in order
to acquire an overview of the construction of “sacred” in the Qumran corpus.32

27  Jonathan Z. Smith, To Take Place: Toward Theory in Ritual (Chicago: The University of
Chicago Press, 1987), 105. Accordingly, “[a] sacred text is one that is used in a sacred
place—nothing more is required” (ibid., 104).
28  Anttonen, “Cognitive Theory,” 41–42, points out that “the scholarly approach to the idea of
the sacred does not entail metaphysical or religious questions about the nature of reality.”
29  Anttonen, “Religion,” 204. Thus, sacred is no longer necessarily a religious category for
Anttonen.
30  Anttonen, “Sacred,” 288.
31  Anttonen, “Sacred,” 271.
32  For a more detailed investigation, see Hanne von Weissenberg and Christian Seppänen,
“Constructing the Boundary between Two Worlds: The Concept of Sacred in the Qumran
Texts,” in Crossing Imaginary Boundaries: The Dead Sea Scrolls in the Context of Second
Temple Judaism, ed. Hanna Tervanotko and Mika Pajunen, PFES 108 (Helsinki: The
Finnish Exegetical Society, 2015), 71–97. In general, the usage of the root ‫ קדש‬is similar
Are There Sacred Texts in Qumran ? 29

Both the phenomenological perception of “sacred” as a “dynamic force origi-

nating in another world”33 and the analytical notion of it as a socially, behav-
iorally, and cognitively constructed category are illuminating in the modern
scholarly attempt to understand the ancient sources. As will be shown, this-
worldly things or institutions become sacred through an alleged relationship
with the divinity.
For the Yaḥad movement the existence of “another world” is self-evident.
This world with its supernatural inhabitants lies at the core of the category of
“sacred.”34 The movement’s conception of holy reminds one of Eliade’s view
of “sacred” as a “powerful reality” that exists beyond the human sphere. In con-
trast to Eliade, the present aim is, however, to grasp the insider’s (emic) world-
view and not to argue for the universality of this experience.
In the Qumran texts, the superhuman world is a realm of sacred beings:
God, his spirit,35 and his name are qualified as holy.36 The sanctity of the divine
name is expressed, constructed, and protected by scribal practices.37 Lesser
supernatural beings are variously called “holy angels” (1QSa 2:8–9; 1QM 7:5–6)
or “spirits of holiness” (1QHa 16:12–14). Angels (‫ )מלאכים‬reside in the heav-
enly realm, but can enter the human world. Sometimes angels and/or God’s
holy spirit mediate divine revelations.38 The divinity communicates with the
human world through continuous revelation, and mediatory figures create
wisdom and understanding in inspired individuals. Revealed knowledge may
be processed into a textualized form.39
Other means to interact with the divine sphere include the cult. From the in-
sider perspective, the “sacred” manifests itself in the experience of liturgy and

to the way it is used in the Hebrew Bible. Admittedly, linguistic conventions do not fully
express everything that is present in a culture; a concept can exist even if there is no term
to express it. Also, a conceptual analysis does not necessarily suffice to cover all the prag-
matic, observable aspects of a given category.
33  Anttonen, “Sacred,” 277, uses the phrase when criticizing the phenomenological under-
standing of “sacred.”
34  Von Weissenberg and Seppänen, “Boundary,” 93.
35  In the Hebrew Bible, God’s spirit is explicitly defined as holy in Isa 63:10, 11; Ps 51:13.
36  Von Weissenberg and Seppänen, “Boundary,” 79–82.
37  For these practices, see Tov, Scribal Practices, 218–21.
38  Von Weissenberg and Seppänen, “Boundary,” 82–83.
39  See, e.g., Judith H. Newman, “Speech and Spirit: Paul and the Maskil as Inspired
Interpreters of Scripture,” in The Holy Spirit, Inspiration, and the Cultures of Antiquity:
Multidisciplinary Perspectives, ed. Jörg Frey and John R. Levison, Ekstasis 5 (Berlin: de
Gruyter; 2014), 241–64.
30 von Weissenberg and Uusimäki

ritual.40 The Yaḥad movement has access to the transcendent sphere through
rituals. The temple and Jerusalem as the city of the sanctuary are designated as
holy (e.g., 4Q394 8 iv 10; 4Q403 1 i 42). Sacred places serve as locations for com-
munication with the divine, and the sacredness of ritually significant places,
people, and objects stems from their association with the deity. Just as in the
Hebrew Bible, humans and objects related to cult, ritual, and sacrifices are con-
sidered to be sacred.41
The understanding of rituals as responses to the supernatural recalls the
phenomenological notion of “sacred” (Eliade). At the same time, the human
“sacred making practices” are made explicit in ritual settings (Durkheim,
Anttonen). There are sacred places and spaces, as well as ritual objects related
to these places and the procedures carried out there. “Sacred” is constructed
via communal practices of setting apart and via specific rules of protection,42
which highlight the communal aspect of the category of “sacred.”
The passing of time is punctuated by recurrent sacred times and festivals. The
Sabbath is established due to a divine order and its sanctity is emphasized
by the 364-day calendar, which prevents any other holiday from coinciding
with the Sabbath. Sacred time is regulated by the ritual cycle. In these calendri-
cal conventions, another practice of constructing “sacred” by means of separa-
tion and behavioral rules can be identified.43 The calendrical principles, the
cultic regulations, and purity restrictions all construct the concept and serve to
protect it (cf. Anttonen). From both the insider and the outsider perspectives,
“sacred” is marked off by these practices.

40  Here we follow Judith H. Newman, “Liturgical Imagination in the Composition of Ben
Sira,” in Prayer and Poetry in the Dead Sea Scrolls and Related Literature: Essays in Honor of
Eileen Schuller on the Occasion of her 65th Birthday, ed. Jeremy Penner, Ken M. Penner, and
Cecilia Wassen, STDJ 98 (Leiden: Brill, 2012), 311–26, esp. 325, who understands the phe-
nomenon of liturgy broadly, describing it “as a constellation of actions, including prayers,
as that was understood to reflect a covenantal response to Israel’s God.”
41  These include, e.g., priests (4Q545 4 16), priestly vestments (11QTa 33:7), priestly gifts,
tithe, and sacrificial material (11QTa 60:3–6). The elected priests function as facilita-
tors in the communicative process. The objects used in rituals can either serve as me-
diators of the divine or have symbolic significance; the immaterial world is juxtaposed
with materiality. See von Weissenberg and Seppänen, “Boundary,” 85–86. See also Ioanna
Patera, “Ritual Practice and Material Support: Objects in Ritual Theories,” Center for
Hellenic Studies Research Bulletin 1 (2012). http://nrs.harvard.edu/urn-3:hlnc.essay:PateraI
.Ritual_Practice_and_Material_Support.2012.
42  Smith, To Take Place, 105.
43  Von Weissenberg and Seppänen, “Boundary,” 83–84.
Are There Sacred Texts in Qumran ? 31

Finally, sacredness may pertain to the election of certain people who claim
to have an intimate relationship with the divinity. Although Israel and God’s
covenant with Israel are called “sacred” (e.g., 11QTa 48:7, citing Deut 14:3), many
texts attribute holiness not to all Israel but to the “true Israel.”44 The members
of the movement are regarded as the “men of holy perfection” (CD 20:1–2) and
“holy society” (1QS 2:24–25). The group represents “sacred” par excellence, as
is implied by the self-designation “Yaḥad of holiness” (1QS 9:2).45 The employ-
ment of “sacred” as an identity marker expresses the members’ need to set
themselves apart either geographically, sociologically, or symbolically.
In summary, God and other divine beings lie at the core of “sacred/holy” in
the Qumran collection. The notion of “sacred” as a graded category explains
why some things are regarded as more sacred, or more typically sacred.46
Sacredness is derived from the supernatural core of the category to its periph-
ery through a relation with the divine.47 The separation between the human
and supernatural realms is not clear-cut, however, since spiritual beings can
operate in both. In ritual, the people on earth may participate in the heavenly
liturgy together with angels (i.e. Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice; parts of the
Hodayot).48 Thus, although the distinction between the lowliness of humans
in comparison with their creator is emphatic, the two worlds are in constant
communication. Moreover, the sacred status is not necessarily permanent; for
instance, Israel as a whole is no longer unquestionably sacred, but the concept
is restricted to a smaller group of people.
For the purposes of this inquiry, it is crucial to understand how “sacred” is
interlocked with the divine sphere and to grasp the concept’s relationship to
texts. How does human communication with the divinity become textualized
and, consequently, produce “sacred texts”? The perception of “sacred texts” as
textualized forms of (primarily non-textual) revelatory experiences helps us
move forward in analysing the sacredness of texts in Jewish antiquity. Since the

44  Cf. 1QS 1:12–13; 2:9, 16; 5:13, 18; 8:17, 21, 24; CD 4:6; 8:28; 1QM 12:1.
45  Von Weissenberg and Seppänen, “Boundary,” 86–87.
46  For typicality, graded structure, and category fuzziness as an integral part of concepts, see
Gregory Murphy, The Big Book of Concepts (Cambridge: MIT Press, 2004), 11–65.
47  Concepts have conceptual cores; see Eric Margolis and Stephen Laurence, “Concepts,”
in The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. http://plato.stanford.edu/archives/spr2014/
entries/concepts/
48  See, e.g., Esther G. Chazon, “Liturgical Communion with the Angels at Qumran,” in
Sapiential, Liturgical, and Poetical Texts from Qumran: Proceedings of the Third Meeting
of the International Organization for Qumran Studies, Oslo, 2–4 August 1998. Published in
Memory of Maurice Baillet, ed. Daniel K. Falk, Florentino García Martínez, and Eileen M.
Schuller, STDJ 35 (Leiden: Brill, 2000), 95–105.
32 von Weissenberg and Uusimäki

revelation received by inspired humans and authorized by human communi-

ties creates a link between “sacred” and this world, a text’s function as a locus of
revelation, as well as those passages in the Qumran corpus that correlate rev-
elation and textuality, are to be investigated next. The focus is on the textual-
ization of what is portrayed as human-superhuman communication. The texts’
sacredness is explained by the significance of revelatory experience described
in them; this shifts the interest of analysis into the insider understanding of
“sacred” in the Yaḥad movement.

Text as a Locus of Revelation

Bell locates the origin of scripture as “sacred texts” in revelation. She refers
to four stages in the emergence of scripture: revelation—textualization—
canonization—scriptural interpretation.49 In light of the late Second Temple
evidence, the development is neither linear nor quite so simple since, as men-
tioned in the beginning of this article, the process of textualization does not
result in the end of revelation.50 Even if a corpus of texts treated as scripture
was gradually emerging, new literature with revelatory claims continued to be
composed (e.g., Jubilees).
Hence, in ancient Judaism textualization and interpretation—or even
translation—are partially parallel and simultaneous phenomena. The “sa-
credness” of texts is not identical with the “canonical closure” of a text cor-
pus. To clarify, the sacredness of texts clearly overlaps with but is not equal to
questions of authority or canonicity. Instead, textual authority is here under-
stood as a pragmatic attribute: a composition is authoritative insofar as it has
some practical impact on a human community and the conduct of its life.51
Moreover, the definition of canonical collections seems to be more about the
control and limitation of revelation, which was practiced by communities, par-
ticularly by those in power within these communities.52

49  Bell, “Scriptures,” 24. Bell also speaks of a “three-stage process of a revelatory scripture, its
canonization and then the necessity of interpretation” (ibid., 25).
50  Najman, Losing the Temple, 15.
51  Thus, authority is not necessarily restricted to religious texts. See also Hanne von
Weissenberg, “Defining Authority,” in In the Footsteps of Sherlock Holmes: Studies in the
Biblical Text in Honour of Anneli Aejmelaeus, ed. Kristin De Troyer et al. (Leuven: Peeters,
2014), 679–95.
52  For the political aspect of the canonization process, see, e.g., George J. Brooke, “The
Books of Chronicles and the Scrolls from Qumran,” in Reflection and Refraction: Studies in
Are There Sacred Texts in Qumran ? 33

Bell’s remark on the “origin” of sacred texts in revelation remains neverthe-

less helpful: “sacred” enters the human sphere through revelation, and some-
thing intangible becomes tangible when it takes the form of a written text. The
sacredness of texts pertains to their claimed revelatory origin. This aligns with
how “sacred” is otherwise perceived in the Qumran texts. Nonetheless, despite
the claims concerning revelatory origins, the legitimacy and maintenance of
the sacredness of texts requires acceptance by a community.53 The communal
sacred-making practices as a means of determining and, above all, maintain-
ing the sacredness of texts highlights the nature of “sacred” as a collectively
constructed category as has been suggested by Durkheim and Anttonen in
contrast to Otto’s and Eliade’s emphasis on an individual experience.
The investigation will proceed to the convergence of revelation and tex-
tuality in the Dead Sea Scrolls. How do they express or describe the process
in which the communication with the divine (voice) becomes materialized in
texts and writing?

The Divine Origin of the Torah and Prophetic Revelation

The Hebrew term “Torah” (‫)תורה‬, when understood to refer to a collection of

written texts, presents the textualized form of revelation par excellence. This
collection is not, however, referred to as “sacred” in the texts from Qumran.54
Even so, the divine origin of the Torah, and especially the divine origin of its
study and interpretation (‫ )מדרש‬for a particular community, is made explicit
in the Community Rule (1QS 8:12–16):

When these people become a community in Israel, conforming to these

arrangements, they shall separate from the session of the men of injus-
tice to go to the wilderness, there to prepare the way of the Lord. As it is
written, ‘In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord, make straight in

Biblical Historiography in Honour of A. Graeme Auld, ed. Robert Rezetko, Timothy H. Lim,
and W. Brian Aucker, VTSup 113 (Leiden: Brill, 2007), 35–48, esp. 41–42, 48.
53  This is true of prophecy; see Alex P. Jassen, “Prophets and Prophecy in the Qumran
Community,” AJSR 32 (2008): 299–334. For the community’s role in the authorization of
scriptures, see Emanuel Tov, “The Authority of Early Hebrew Scripture Texts,” Journal of
Reformed Theology 5 (2011): 276–95, esp. 277.
54  Intriguingly, there are but a few references to God’s holy laws (‫ )חוקים‬and regulations
(‫ ;)משפטים‬see CD 20:30–31; 4Q512 64 6; 4Q414 2 ii+4 1; von Weissenberg and Seppänen,
“Boundary,” 84.
34 von Weissenberg and Uusimäki

the desert a highway for our God’ (Isa 40:3). This means the expounding
of the Torah (‫)מדרש התורה‬, decreed by God through (‫ )ביד‬Moses for obe-
dience, that being defined by what has been revealed for each age, and by
what the prophets have revealed by His holy spirit (‫)ברוח קודשו‬.55

Although Moses is depicted as a mediator of the Torah56 and the prophets as

receivers of divine spirit, this passage does not necessarily refer to ‫ תורה‬as a
specific text(ual corpus), let alone a textually stabilized one. The prophets re-
main anonymous and there is no reference to their “written legacy.”57 Nor does
the communal activity designated as ‫ מדרש התורה‬necessarily involve writing.
A stark dichotomy between an earlier revelation and its later exegesis would,
therefore, miss the point. Rather, the emphasis is on the interpretative task
(‫ )מדרש התורה‬as a continuous revelatory activity with divine origin.58 Indeed,
Judith Newman has argued that the sectarians understood prophecy to be “a
contemporaneous and ongoing phenomenon.”59
The passage is intriguing in regard to the category of the “sacred.” While the
Torah is not called such, the interpretative community is referred to as ‫קדש‬
several times in the same column (1QS 8:5, 8, 20, 21, 23). Having withdrawn to
the desert, the “men of perfect holiness”—those who implement this revela-
tion and its interpretation (‫—)מדרש‬are identified as “sacred” (1QS 8:20–24).
This stresses the sacredness of interpretative activity and the communal status
of holiness. The chosen ones who participate in divine revelation by means of
interpretation are deemed holy. The fact that God’s holy spirit is involved in
the revelatory process highlights the continuity of the prophetic activity.60

55  All the English translations of the Dead Sea Scrolls are from the DSSEL with some modi-
fications. See Emanuel Tov, ed., The Dead Sea Scrolls Electronic Library, rev. ed. (Leiden:
Brill; Provo: Brigham Young University, 2006).
56  Cf. Jubilees where Moses is presented as the receiver of divine revelation, which is dic-
tated to him by the Angel of Presence. Moses’s task is to accurately transmit the contents
of the heavenly tablets in writing.
57  Newman, “Speech and Spirit,” 244–45.
58  As for the revelatory power of this activity, see George J. Brooke, “Pešer and Midraš in
Qumran Literature: Issues for Lexicography,” RevQ 24 (2009): 79–95, who reviews the
scholarly interpretations of the term ‫מדרש‬, including the views of those who prefer the
rendering “study” or “interpretation,” as well as the opinion of those who maintain that
the term carries a significant prophetic flavour in the Dead Sea Scrolls.
59  Newman, “Speech and Spirit,” 245.
60  On prophecy in this passage, see Alex P. Jassen, Mediating the Divine: Prophecy and
Revelation in the Dead Sea Scrolls and Second Temple Judaism, STDJ 68 (Leiden: Brill, 2007),
49–52. The discussion in the Community Rule could be further compared to rabbinic
Are There Sacred Texts in Qumran ? 35

Rather than the textual artefact and its words, communication with the divine
through a text in “reading, searching, and blessing” may be(come) something
sacred, as pointed out by George Brooke.61

Textualization of the Divine Voice in the Qumran Corpus

It has been noted above that 1QS 8:12–16 is interested in the divine voice,
but does not refer to writing or written texts. In other instances, the phrase
“God has spoken through Moses” is linked to an actual quotation from the
Pentateuch. Furthermore, the phrase “God has spoken through a prophet” is
elsewhere connected to an explicit quotation.62
A similar phrase “God spoke/communicated/decreed through (‫ )ביד‬X” is at-
tested in the Hebrew Bible, where it refers to inspired activity: divine com-
munication, commands, words, and revelations transmitted through Moses
and/or the prophets. Nevertheless, the phrase is more often linked with oral
performance (speaking, proclaiming, commanding, hearing, etc.) than with
texts or writing.63 Exceptions that associate it with textuality appear in 2 Chr
34:14 and Neh 8:14.64 Some of the Dead Sea Scrolls introduce a new element

ideas: b. B. Bat. 14–15, which discusses the origin and authorship of biblical books, does
not mention ‫רוח הקודש‬. Rather, human authorship is emphasized. Yet, the reference to
“holy spirit” is used in some other rabbinic sources in relation to biblical books; see Marc
Zvi Brettler, The Bible and the Believer (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012), 56.
61  It is the performance, processing, and interpretation of texts that is linked to sacrality,
not the artefact itself; George J. Brooke, “Reading, Searching and Blessing: A Functional
Approach to Scriptural Interpretation in the Yaḥad,” in The Temple in Text and Tradition:
A Festschrift in Honour of Robert Hayward, ed. R. Timothy McLay (London: T&T Clark;
2015), 140–56. Similarly, the divine name can be written but not spoken due to its sanctity,
thus the specific writing practices of the Tetragrammaton.
62  See, e.g., CD 3:20–4:2, 6:13–14; 1QS 8:15–16; 1QpHab 7:1–5; Christian Seppänen and Hanne
von Weissenberg, “Raamattu ennen kaanonia: Kirjoitusten arvovaltaisuus Qumranilla
[The Bible before the Canon: The Authority of Scriptures in Qumran],” Teologinen
Aikakauskirja 3 (2013): 196–209, esp. 206.
63  See, e.g., Num 36:13; Ezek 38:17; Mal 1:1; Neh 9:14.
64  The written character of the Torah is most explicit in Neh 8:14. Elsewhere, the phrase is
linked with the Torah, but often Torah as something proclaimed or practised and not nec-
essarily a text, as in Zech 7:12. However, as Juha Pakkala has pointed out, the pentateuchal
citations in Ezra-Nehemiah are not identical to any known textual witness; Pakkala,
“The Quotations and References of the Pentateuchal Laws in Ezra-Nehemiah,” in Changes
in Scripture: Rewriting and Interpreting Authoritative Traditions in the Second Temple
Period, ed. Hanne von Weissenberg et al., BZAW 419 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2011), 193–221.
36 von Weissenberg and Uusimäki

as they combine the formulaic phrase with a verbatim quotation, as the fol-
lowing examples taken from the War Scroll and the Damascus Document
demonstrate:

(They shall recount) that which you s[poke] by the hand (‫ )ביד‬of Moses,
saying: “And when there is a war in your land against the adversary who
oppresses you, then yo[u] shall blow the trumpets that you might be re-
membered before your God and be saved from your enemies” (Num 10:9).
(1QM 10:6–8)
. . . as God promised them by (‫ )ביד‬Ezekiel the prophet (‫)הנביא‬, saying:
“The priests, the Levites, and the sons of Zadok who have kept the main-
tenance of my sanctuary when the children of Israel strayed from me;
they shall bring me fat and blood” (Ezek 44:15). (CD 3:20–4:2)

Whether these passages suffice to prove that the Pentateuch or the book of
Ezekiel was regarded as a product of textualized divine revelation and thus sa-
cred in its (final) form may remain contested.65 Although the passage from the
Damascus Document quotes the prophet’s words after stating their divine ori-
gin, there is no reference to a book or scroll (‫ )ספר‬of the prophet. Therefore, the
case could be interpreted as a reference to an oral form of divine revelation. A
link to the written form of the Torah or a prophetic book remains implicit at
the most. Even so, the formulaic phrase—which indicates the divine origin
of Moses’s or Ezekiel’s teaching—is juxtaposed with a quotation that can be
linked with a particular written text.
More explicit indicators of the written form of a prophetic proclamation ap-
pear elsewhere. There are references to the scrolls (‫ )ספרים‬of prophets: 4Q174
refers to those of prophets Isaiah and Daniel, and 4Q177 to that of Ezekiel.
Manuscripts 4Q265 and 4Q285 mention the scroll of the prophet Isaiah, and
4Q182 that of Jeremiah. Importantly, these cases are combined with a quota-
tion from the work in question. They attest to the late Second Temple process
of witnessing the return and recovery from the exile, and the “end”—or rather

65  It should be noted that Ezekiel is significant for the textualization of prophecy because
it attests to the transformation from oral to written prophecy. See Joachim Schaper, “The
Death of the Prophet: The Transition from the Spoken to the Written Word of God in the
Book of Ezekiel,” in Prophets, Prophecy, and Prophetic Texts in Second Temple Judaism, ed.
Michael H. Floyd and Robert D. Haak, LBH/OTS 427 (New York: T&T Clark, 2006), 63–79,
esp. 66: “In the Book of Ezekiel, Israelite prophecy arrives at . . . the point when a predomi-
nantly orally oriented concept of divine revelation was transformed into a predominantly
‘scriptural’ understanding of revelation.”
Are There Sacred Texts in Qumran ? 37

a transformation—of prophecy. The transition from oral to literary, scribal

prophecy resulted in a major shift during which “the scribes assumed the roles
of the prophets as their legitimate heirs.”66
The Hebrew Bible includes several passages where the prophet receives a
divine command to write (‫)כתב‬.67 In some cases, such as Isa 8:1 and Ezek 37:16,
the act of writing and the text itself have a primarily symbolic function. More
relevant for the present purposes are Isa 30:8 and Hab 2:2 that seem to repre-
sent written oracles. As Martti Nissinen points out, there is no reference to an
oral proclamation in these passages. Instead, the emphasis is on the oracle’s
written nature, created for the purpose of preservation and further interpreta-
tion. Yet, “the divine command to write forms a part of the literary structure
of the oracles themselves.”68
The written character of Habakkuk’s revelation is even clearer in the Pesher
of Habakkuk. The author of this work refers to Hab 2:2 as explicitly testifying
to God who commands the prophet to write (1QpHab 7:1–5):

Then God told Habakkuk to write down what was going to happen to
{to} the last generation, but the end of the period he [God] did not make
known to him. vacat He says, “so that with ease someone can read it.”
Its interpretation concerns the Teacher of Righteousness to whom God
made known all the mysteries of the words of his servants, the prophets.

The pesherist then proceeds to interpret the quoted written version of

Habakkuk’s prophecy.69 He describes the Teacher of Righteousness as an in-
spired recipient of revelation who is capable of grasping the divine message

66  Martti Nissinen, “Qumran Exegesis, Omen Interpretation and Literary Prophecy,” in
Prophecy after the Prophets: The Contribution of the Dead Sea Scrolls to the Understanding
of Biblical and Extra-Biblical Prophecy, ed. Kristin De Troyer and Armin Lange, CBET 52
(Leuven: Peeters, 2009), 43–60, esp. 58.
67  See Isa 8:1–2, 30:8; Ezek 24:1–2, 37:15–16; Hab 2:2; Jer 30:2; 36:1–2, 27–28.
68  Thus, the passages should not be read as testimonies of something that was actually
executed, or as evidence for the literacy of biblical prophets; Martti Nissinen, “Since
When Do Prophets Write?” in In the Footsteps of Sherlock Holmes, 585–606, esp. 594–96.
Furthermore, Nissinen writes that “the verb ktv seems to refer to the whole process of
production and authorization of the text, not merely to the physical act of writing”
(ibid., 597).
69  The phenomenon where a text is required for revelatory activity is not without “biblical”
predecessors. See Ezek 2:9–3:3, where “the written document is the prerequisite of the
oral prophecy, not vice versa”; so Nissinen, “Prophets,” 599.
38 von Weissenberg and Uusimäki

of Habakkuk. This passage confirms, therefore, that the textualization of an

earlier revelation does not end the revelatory process. Instead, the transmission
of divine knowledge continues to take place and a text becomes the locus of
revelation.70 As such, the pesharim represent a form of revelation or “scribal
divination.”71 Since this process is linked with both inspired and learned use of
texts, the pesharim provide further evidence for the argument that a dichoto-
my between revelation and exegesis cannot be postulated.72
In other words, the revelation through God’s spirit opens a channel between
the “sacred” and human realms. The exegete’s revealed interpretation forms a
bridge between them. The textualization of earlier revelations is part of the
process, but the continuation of revelation and what comes into existence
in the new situation is equally relevant. The textualization of revelation and
textual interpretation constitute overlapping and temporally parallel phenom-
ena. Since the study of pre-existing literary materials offers a way to participate
in the continuous revelation, there is no need to create a dichotomy between
a “base text” and its “commentary.” From the viewpoint of “sacredness,” both
types of writings result from a revelatory activity and can thus be regarded as
“sacred texts.”73

70  Compare texts such as Ben Sira, Jubilees, and 11Q5 27. Eva Mrozcek speaks about the “re-
velatory power of scribalism” and sees in these traditions evidence for a scribe as “an
exalted, divinely inspired figure who updates and re-presents written revelation for his
time.” See Mroczek, “Moses, David and Scribal Revelation: Preservation and Renewal in
Second Temple Jewish Textual Traditions,” in The Significance of Sinai: Traditions About
Sinai and Divine Revelation in Judaism and Christianity, ed. George J. Brooke et al. (Leiden:
Brill, 2008), 91–116, esp. 95.
71  In light of the Assyrian evidence, Nissinen, “Qumran Exegesis,” 59, identifies the Qumran
pesher as a form of divination, where the base text functions as an omen and interpreta-
tion becomes “a divinatory act inspired by God.” See also Alex Jassen, “The Pesharim and
the Rise of Commentary in Early Jewish Scriptural Interpretation,” DSD 19 (2012): 363–98;
Daniel A. Machiela, “The Qumran Pesharim as Biblical Commentaries: Historical Context
and Lines of Development,” DSD 19 (2012): 313–62.
72  George J. Brooke, “Some Comments on Commentaries,” DSD 19 (2012): 249–66, esp. 261.
73  It might be worth pondering whether this is the reason why some of the pesharim are
extant only in one copy; the option that they were regarded as too sacred to be copied
remains very hypothetical yet possible. Cf. Henrichs, “Hieroi Logoi,” 235, on the deeply
esoteric nature of ἱεροὶ λόγοι in Graeco-Roman antiquity from Herodotus to the pagan and
Christian authors of late antiquity.
Are There Sacred Texts in Qumran ? 39

Holy Spirit and Continuous Revelation

Based on 1QS 8:12–16, which has been analysed above, the agency of divine spirit
is central in continuous revelation.74 Although the concept of “holy spirit” is
used in numerous ways in the Dead Sea Scrolls,75 it is of primary importance
to explore the role of God’s holy spirit in association with revelation here. For
instance, the spirit that is active in the revelatory process receives the attribute
“sacred” in the Damascus Document (CD 2:12–13): “He taught them through
those anointed by his holy spirit (‫)רוח קדשו‬, the seers of truth. He explicitly
called them by name. But whoever he had rejected he caused to stray.”76
To take another example, Newman describes how prophetic revelation is
extended by the Maskil through God’s holy spirit in the Hodayot. The reve-
lation results in “unique knowledge of God.”77 God’s holy spirit is said to be
placed in or given to the Maskil (1QHa 20:11–13):78

And I, the Instructor (‫)משכיל‬, have known you, my God, by the spirit
(‫ )ברוח‬which you gave me, and I have listened faithfully to your won-
drous counsel by your holy spirit (‫)ברוח קודשכה‬. You have [o]pened

74  Cf. Newman, “Speech and Spirit,” 244, who argues based on the account in 1QS 8:12b–16a:
“[R]evelation would continue from time to time through the agency of the holy spirit in
prophetic revelations.”
75  As is demonstrated by Eibert J.C. Tigchelaar, “Historical Origins of the Early Christian
Concept of the Holy Spirit: Perspectives from the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in The Holy Spirit,
Inspiration, and the Cultures of Antiquity, 167–240. The concept’s meaning depends on its
context and the composition in question. It is used to denote angelic beings (Hodayot,
Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice, Berakhot), the human spirit received from God and in
need of protection from corruption (CD 5:11; 7:4), or God’s spirit with protective and
cleansing functions (1QS 3:7; 4:21). The holy spirit is further associated with knowledge
and understanding (1QS 9:3–4; 1QHa 6:12–13; 4Q444; 4Q504).
76  Cf. Tigchelaar, “Historical Origins,” 183: “The conceptual connection between prophets
or prophecy and God’s spirit is well attested in the Hebrew Bible and is referenced a few
times in the Dead Sea scrolls.” Tigchelaar refers to CD 2:12–13, 4Q270 2 ii 14 (cf. 4Q287 10
13), 4Q381 69 4, and 11Q5 27. However, the spirit only rarely receives the explicit attribute
“holy” in the Hebrew Bible; see Ps 51:13; Isa 63:10–11.
77  Newman, “Speech and Spirit,” 247.
78  According to Newman, “Speech and Spirit,” 247, this passage contains “a distinction
between divine spirit that has been given to the maskil which results in one level of
knowledge and recognition, and the Holy Spirit that allows for esoteric knowledge and
internal transformation.” Tigchelaar, “Historical Origins,” 195, sees them as synonymous.
Tigchelaar also points out that the phraseology of “placing a spirit within me” is typical of
the so-called instructor psalms (he relies here on Judith Newman’s SBL paper from 2013).
40 von Weissenberg and Uusimäki

within me knowledge in the mystery of your insight, and a spring of

[your] strength [  ].

Newman identifies a continuum of revelatory experiences in the Maskil’s in-

spired teaching. The textualized form of prophetic revelation and the present
interaction with pre-existing literary traditions, manifested by the rich scrip-
tural influences on the Maskil’s hymns, gives birth to continuous revelation.
The textualization of revelation is further extended in the writing down of the
Maskil’s teaching, not entirely unlike in the pesharim. In the words of Newman:
“The maskil is thus producing a form of teaching that, once written on scrolls
in the form that we see it, becomes itself authoritative scripture for the Yaḥad
movement.”79 Newman uses the term “authoritative scripture” for what we
would call a “sacred text.” The concept can refer both to the pre-existing
sources of the Maskil’s teaching, as well as the end product of this teaching
and form of liturgical poetry.
In summary, textualized revelation is not confined to texts that were used as
authoritative sources for interpretation in the Yaḥad movement. Earlier litera-
ture certainly participates in the revelatory process. Yet, the text that is created
in the new context is equally relevant as a locus of revelation. The textualiza-
tion of revelation, as attested in earliest sources, did not exclude the possibility
that revelation continued by means of rewriting and interpreting. Importantly,
the implicit use of older texts in the Hodayot and the “explicit exegesis” of the
pesharim are not entirely distinct phenomena, but both serve as expressions
and manifestations of continuous revelation. By means of embodying the
textualized form of revelation, both types of texts witness to the sacredness
of texts.

Conclusions

It is intriguing that no text from Qumran has an explicit attribute that would
define it as “sacred,” nor is a stark polarity between sacred and non-sacred com-
positions visible in concrete scribal practices. Instead, the concept of “sacred”
is linked with the divinity, as well as spaces, places, objects, and people that are
chosen by or in a relationship to the divinity. Hence, the category of “sacred”
should be understood as graded and relational.

79  Newman, “Speech and Spirit,” 251–52.

Are There Sacred Texts in Qumran ? 41

Even though neither the Torah nor other texts are explicitly called “sacred,”
there are clear indicators of the idea that divine revelation takes a textualized
form. In this process, something primarily intangible, claimed by the authors
to originate from the otherworldly, “sacred” realm, is transformed into a tan-
gible, written form. There are references to the divine origin of certain works,
and the idea of interpretation and writing as a form of divine encounter is
attested. It is in these practices that the spheres of “text” and “sacred” overlap.
The idea of texts as loci of revelation points to the domain of phenomenol-
ogy. Since texts both attest to and mediate communication with the divine
other, one could argue that they are—in some sense—(gradually) understood
as objects of hierophany (cf. Eliade). Revelation continues through inspired
interactions with texts. Thus, if the Yaḥad movement had a category of “sacred
texts”—such can exist despite the lack of explicit terminology—it most prob-
ably included compositions that represent contemporary, inspired interpreta-
tion of earlier revelations, such as the Maskil’s teachings and the pesharim.
In addition to the emic point of view pursued in this article, there is yet
another perspective to the “sacred making” of texts, for it is human beings who
create the concept of “sacred” by means of separation and classification; texts
cannot gain a sacred status without people who put this concept into practice
(cf. Anttonen). In ancient Judaism, the process of scripturalization took place
in parallel to the textualization of revelation. The concept of “sacred texts”
developed alongside the emerging canon, although these processes were not
identical. From an outsider’s an alytical (etic) perspective, the focus should be
on the verifiable social and psychological aspects of human interaction with
texts, i.e., the dynamic practices that gradually invested some texts with attri-
butes that were denied to others.
Textual Authority and the Problem of the Biblical
Canon at Qumran

Philip S. Alexander

Introduction1

Much has been written about the biblical canon at Qumran, and about the
canon in general in late Second Temple Judaism.2 I think it is fair to say that a
scholarly consensus has now emerged that there was at that time no biblical

1  It gives me great pleasure to dedicate this essay to George Brooke, who for many years has
been a wonderful colleague and a dear friend. I have reason to think he will disagree with
it, but I offer it nevertheless as a testimony to the lively exchange of views which marked
the meetings of the Ehrhardt Seminar at Manchester, over which he presided so genially
for so long. I am here developing views adumbrated in a number of earlier essays, notably:
“ ‘A Sixtieth Part of Prophecy’: The Problem of Continuing Revelation in Judaism,” in Words
Remembered, Texts Renewed: Essays in Honour of John F.A. Sawyer, ed. Jon Davies, Graham
Harvey, and Wilfred Watson (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 1995), 414–33; “Why no Textual
Criticism in Rabbinic Midrash? Reflections on the Textual Culture of the Rabbis,” in Jewish
Ways of Reading the Bible, ed. George J. Brooke (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000),
175–91; “The Bible in Qumran and Early Judaism,” in Text in Context: Essays by Members of
the Society for Old Testament Study, A.D.H. Hayes (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000),
35–62; “The Formation of the Biblical Canon in Rabbinic Judaism,” in The Canon of Scripture
in Jewish and Christian Tradition: Le canon des Écritures dans les traditions juive et chrétienne,
ed. Philip S. Alexander and Jean-Daniel Kaestli (Lausanne: Éditions du Zèbre, 2007), 57–80;
and above all “Criteria for Recognizing Canonical Texts: A Survey and Critique.” The last was
a paper delivered at the “Qumran und der biblische Canon Seminar” at the SNTS Conference
in Vienna, 5 August, 2009. This was never published but I gave a copy of it to Tim Lim and he
summarized and critiqued it in his Formation of the Jewish Canon (see note 2 below), at 37, 51,
and 180. I have tried to avoid repeating unnecessarily what is found in the published essays,
but it should also be noted that I am to some extent revising and refining opinions expressed
there.
2  The most substantial recent contribution is Timothy H. Lim, The Formation of the Jewish
Canon (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2013). Lim provides extensive bibliographies down
to the time of publication, but one item he doesn’t list that deserves wider notice is Daniel
Stökl Ben Ezra, “Canonization—a Non-Linear Process? Observing Canonization through
the Christian (and Jewish) Papyri from Egypt,” ZAC 12 (2008): 193–214. I have refrained from
repeating or heavily footnoting information that can be obtained easily from standard
textbooks such as Lee Martin McDonald’s, The Biblical Canon: Its Origin, Transmission, and
Authority (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2007).

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ���7 | doi ��.��63/9789004344532_004

Textual Authority and the Problem of the Biblical Canon 43

canon in any strong sense of the term that we would recognize from later times,
and to talk as if there was is anachronistic. That later canon was emerging, but
had not yet emerged. Rather there was a body of loosely authoritative writings,
among which were almost all the books that later were included in the Tanakh/
Old Testament, but there were other texts as well which seem to have had the
same status, and so to talk of the Bible at Qumran, or even the Scriptures, is
misleading.
In this essay I will argue that this conclusion is flawed because: (1) it assumes
a history of the formation of the biblical canon that is questionable; (2) it fails
to make the fundamental distinction between what might be called the theo-
logical canon and the functional canon; and (3) it subscribes too readily to a
linear, evolutionary understanding of the development of Judaism.
For the purposes of the present argument I make the assumption, which I
imagine few would question, that canon is fundamentally about authority.3
Canons can be made up of texts of various kinds—literary, religious, legal,
scientific—but all are fundamentally about authority. They are about texts
which in one way or another function as a rule within their respective do-
mains for their respective communities. We are concerned here with religious
canons, with the question of what text or corpus of texts serves as the regula
fidei within a given religious community, and can be read solemnly and pub-
licly as part of that community’s worship.
Histories of the biblical canon in the Second Temple period tend to be fixated
on the question of when the canon was closed. Implicit in most accounts is a
model of the canonical process which sees it fundamentally in terms of crystal-
lization. It is an evolutionary movement from fuzziness to clarity: it is like a pic-
ture slowly coming into focus. Many accounts of the canon in Second Temple
times are somewhat coy about when they think the biblical canon reached
closure, but most would probably be happy to agree that this had happened

3  I find it puzzling that some scholars seem to contrast canonicity and authority. They will say
or imply that a certain text is “authoritative” without being “canonic,” but fail to explain what
the difference is. Surely any text that is regarded as authoritative within a religious system
can ipso facto be regarded as in some sense canonic. The terms “authoritative” and “canonic”
are effectively synonymous. Perhaps they mean that the text, though authoritative, has not
been put on any official canonic list, nor is it regarded as inspired prophecy. But if this is
their meaning, then they should make it explicit and justify the implied definition of canon.
And they should acknowledge that canonic texts remain a type of authoritative text, albeit,
perhaps, of higher status than one they call merely authoritative. On canonicity and author-
ity see Moshe Halbertal, People of the Book: Canon, Meaning, and Authority (Cambridge, MA:
Harvard University Press, 2007), 3–6. Halbertal makes a useful distinction between norma-
tive, formative, and exemplary canons, but all have to do with authority.
44 Alexander

by the third century CE. By then, for sure, a collection of texts had been se-
lected out of a larger mass of writings which were held in high regard by both
Jews and Christians, and this collection had been pronounced Sacred Scripture
by competent religious authority and designated the rule of faith. Now, at last,
certainty has been achieved, now at last we have a Bible, but not before.

Canonic Variety

Is this understanding of the history of canon correct? I would suggest it is not.

My argument can be put very simply. The kind of fuzziness which is supposed
to have existed in Second Temple times and to have been eliminated by (say)
the third century CE, did not really come to an end at all. Things continued
much as before. In all the material aspects with which we are concerned here
little changed. If this is the case, we are presented with two possibilities. Either
we deconstruct the whole canonic process and consign the concept of “canon”
to the dustbin of misleading analytical categories (along with magic, mysti-
cism, Gnosticism, and Hellenism). Or, and this is the approach I advocate, we
accept that if what we have from the third century on is indeed a canon, then
fuzziness in itself offers no good grounds for denying that what we have in
late Second Temple Judaism is a canon as well. This conclusion follows if we
apply in both periods the same criteria for affirming or denying the existence
of a canon.
I will run through some of the criteria which might be invoked to deny the
existence of a canon in late Second Temple times below, but before doing so I
will attempt to problematize the standard model of the canonic process which
lies behind the denial of a canon in this period. As already noted, this model is
dominated by the concept of “closure.” To repeat, this is the idea that, finally,
competent religious authority, to end confusion and doubt, produces a defini-
tive list of the books that belong to Holy Scripture, and this is widely if not
universally accepted. Until that happens we do not really have a canon or a
Bible. The earliest that we can contemplate such definitive “closure” would be
the third century CE. Ergo there was no Bible in Second Temple Judaism.
Now certainly a process that looks like “closure” can be documented within
both Judaism and Christianity. Let us take the case of Judaism. The old view
that the closure of Tanakh was one of the achievements of the so-called
Academy at Yavneh, as it attempted to rebuild Judaism after the destruction of
the Temple, is questionable, since it is clear from the Mishnah that the status
of certain books (e.g., Song of Songs and Ecclesiastes) was still being debated
in the second century. The debate as reported in the Mishnah links it to the
Textual Authority and the Problem of the Biblical Canon 45

time of Aqiva, but these traditions are embedded in strata which indicate that
the issue was still alive in the late second century (see m. Yad. 3:5).4 In other
words even the Aqivan debate did not finally resolve the question. The bulk
of the canon had probably been fixed by the late first century CE (though that
this happened at Yavneh is highly unlikely), but so long as the status of some
books was in doubt we still cannot say that we have reached final and defini-
tive closure.
A careful analysis of the evidence suggests that the late second century was
an important turning-point in the process. It is probably to this period that
the famous canonic list, now partially preserved in b. B. Bat. 14b, belongs. This
list was the instrument by which the rabbinic authorities actually “closed”
their canon and defined the category of “outside books” (sefarim ḥiṣonim:

4  That the canon of the Hebrew Bible was finally closed at Yavneh was the prevailing view
down to the later part of the twentieth century. We find it still in the revised Schürer (Emil
Schürer, The History of the Jewish People in the Age of Jesus Christ, rev. and ed. Geza Vermes,
Fergus Millar, and Matthew Black [Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1979], 2:317–18), but it is hard to
know where the idea began. Herbert E. Ryle states in his influential volume, The Canon of
the Old Testament, 2nd ed. (London: Macmillan, 1899), 183, “The suggestion has been made
that we have in the Synod of Jamnia the official occasion, on which the limits of the Hebrew
Canon were finally determined by Jewish authorities.” Though apparently acquiescing in it,
Ryle attributes the view to an unnamed source. He is probably thinking of Frants Buhl, Canon
and Text of the Old Testament, trans. John MacPherson (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1892), 24, “At
that Synod [Jamnia] the canonicity of the whole of the sacred writings was acknowledged.”
But Buhl goes on to note that “the recollection of what was actually determined at Jamnia
was not preserved in accurate form,” and doubts persisted into the second century regarding
Qohelet and Song of Songs. The matter was not finally determined until the promulgation of
the Mishnah, which “maintained the unrestricted canonicity of all the twenty-four writings,
among the rest also Ecclesiastes and The Song, which were specially named.” He continues:
“But even after this time the criticism of the canon was not totally silenced, for we learn from
the Babylonian Talmud that a scholar living in the third century denied the canonicity of the
Book of Esther” (25). There are echoes here of Heinrich Graetz’s essay “Der altestamentli-
che Kanon und sein Abschluss” in his Kohelet oder der Salomonische Prediger übersetz und
kritisch erläutert (Leipzig: Winter, 1871), 147–73. Graetz also argued that the Synod of Jamnia
played a major role in closing the canon of Tanakh, but only the first two divisions. The third
was not finally closed until the time of the Mishnah. Unfortunately the caution and qualifica-
tions of these earlier scholars were ignored later in favour of the bold and simple view that
Jamnia closed the canon. For an early criticism of this view see: Peter Schäfer, “Der sogen-
nante Synode von Jabne, II. Der Abschluss des Kanons,” Judaica 31 (1974): 116–24. Some have
suggested that the idea that the canon of Scripture was closed at Yavneh ultimately goes back
to Spinoza, Tractatus Theologico-Politicus, ch. 10. This is unlikely. Spinoza does claim that the
canon we now have was selected in the late Second Temple period by a “council of Pharisees,”
but he does not mention Yavneh.
46 Alexander

m. Sanh. 10:1). It was probably a version of this list that Melito of Sardis found
in Palestine around 170 CE (Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 4.26), and proposed that it
should form the basis of the Christian canon.5 This list may go back sometime
earlier, possibly to the first century, and may be the basis also of Josephus’s
canon (Ag. Ap. 1.39–40). It was probably drawn up by the priests, who were
the official custodians of the Torah.6 In other words it is not rabbinic in origin,
but it was invoked by the rabbinic authorities at the end of the second cen-
tury for their own purposes. From the promulgation of the Mishnah (c. 210 CE)
onwards we get no hint that any text other than those now in Tanakh was re-
garded by any rabbinic authority as Scripture (Kitvei Qodesh)—though even
that assertion is not above challenge, because it is well known that on a few
occasions dicta from Ben Sira are introduced in rabbinic literature with a cita-
tion formula, she-neʾemar, exclusively used to quote Scripture.7 But this is the
exception that proves the rule. In view of explicit rabbinic statements that Ben
Sira is not canonic (t. Yad. 2:13), I do not think we can see here a surreptitious

5  The Melito list can easily be accommodated to that in the Bavli Bava Batra save in one partic-
ular. It does not include Esther. This is not an oversight. The status of Esther was questioned
by some rabbinic authorities (see b. Meg. 7a), but that the majority opinion recognized it as
Scripture is indicated by the fact that a whole tractate of the Mishnah (Megillah) is devoted
to it, and the only example we have of an extensive, early Babylonian Midrash is on Esther:
it is embedded in the Bavli Gemara to Megillah (10b–17a). See Eliezer Segal, The Babylonian
Esther Midrash: A Critical Commentary, 3 vols. (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1994). That Mishnah
Megillah is in part about the canonic status of Esther is suggested by the fact that the Rabbis
used discussion of the reading of the Esther-Scroll as a useful peg on which to hang a number
of clarifications about the nature of Scripture in general.
6  In earlier essays I simply assumed, as most did, that the Bavli Bava Batra canonic list was
rabbinic in origin. I would now see it as probably priestly. This is in line with my growing
sense of the diversity of Judaism after 70, and of the continuing role of the priests, as distinct
from the Rabbis, in the transmission, teaching, and interpretation of Torah. I would now
argue that the priests were the primary custodians of the text and reading tradition of the
Torah, and of the paratextual traditions that later crystallized into the Masorah.
7  See, e.g., b. B. Qam. 92b where not only is a quotation from Sir 13:15 introduced by the
Scripture citation formula she-neʾemar, in a context which is explicitly asking for Scriptural
proofs of a series of statements, but the quotation is said to come from the third division of
the Canon, the Writings! There is something of a puzzle here. It is not impossible, in view
of the priestly character of Ben Sira, that it was actually included in some priestly canons of
Scripture. Its influence on piyyut, a predominantly priestly genre, might support this. But if
this is the case, then its absence from the canon list in b. B. Bat. 14b might call into question
the priestly origin of that document which I have proposed above. Could the exclusion of Ben
Sira, then, be an anti-priestly move on the part of the Rabbis? All this is highly speculative,
but it does underscore the complexity of the situation.
Textual Authority and the Problem of the Biblical Canon 47

“canonization” of this book. The better explanation is that those who quote
the dicta thought the quotations were from somewhere in Scripture. It was a
simple mistake.
Seeing a definitive closure of the rabbinic canon of Scripture by around
200 CE not only accords with what we find in rabbinic tradition, but also makes
good historical sense. George Foot Moore argued many years ago that the clos-
ing of the rabbinic canon had something to do with the “parting of the ways” be-
tween Judaism and Christianity. Though he was still wedded to Ryle’s view that
Yavneh marked the definitive moment of closure, I believe his instinct that it
had something to do with emerging Christianity was correct.8 This view has
received support from recent work which has shown that rabbinic Judaism
was much more aware of Christianity, and more consciously defining itself vis-
à-vis Christianity, than had hitherto been supposed.9 It is in the late second
century that a concept of “heresy” (minut) emerges in rabbinic thought. And it
is precisely at this period that the concept of “orthodoxy” comes strongly to the
fore in Christianity, a development symbolized by Irenaeus’s Against Heresies,
which attempts to list all those forms of Christianity which were not accept-
able. The attempt to define orthodoxy within Christianity had become critical
because of the challenge posed by Gnosticism and Marcionism. Both these
movements had canonic implications. The Gnostics had produced additional
Gospels, which challenged the status of the four widely accepted Gospels. The
status of these Gnostic Gospels had to be urgently decided. And both Gnostics
and Marcion wanted to exclude the Old Testament from Christian Scripture:
this too required a decision. So the question of canonicity was definitely in
the air. It presented itself to the Rabbis concretely not only in the form of a
collection of apocalyptic texts left over from Second Temple times which

8  See his article, “The Definition of the Jewish Canon and the Repudiation of Christian
Scriptures” (1911), reprinted in Sid Z. Leiman, ed., Canon and Masorah in the Hebrew Bible (New
York: Ktav, 1974), 115–41. Moore too readily conceded the criticisms of Louis Ginzberg, “Some
Observations on the Attitude of the Synagogue towards the Apocalyptic-Eschatological
Writings” (1922), repr. in Leiman, Canon and Masorah, 142–63. He should have stuck to his
guns, but he was hampered by the fact that he put the “closure” too early. It is much less plau-
sible that the rabbinic movement was being influenced by emerging Christianity at the end
of the first century than at the end of the second.
9  See, e.g., Peter Schäfer, The Jewish Jesus: How Judaism and Christianity Shaped Each Other
(Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2012), where the debate so far is well summarized.
The original German version of this was provocatively titled, Die Geburt des Judentums aus
dem Geist des Christentums (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2010). The pioneering study by the
Reform Rabbi Michael Hilton, The Christian Effect on Jewish Life (London: SCM, 1994) has not
received the attention it deserves.
48 Alexander

appeared to claim scriptural status, but also in the form of the Gospels which
the Christians wanted to add to Scripture as a Second Testament. It is arguable
that the Gospels are in view (along with other books) in the forbidden category
of “outside books.”

Pluralism Post-70 and Its Implications for the Issue of Canon(s)

At about 200 we finally have a definitive, closed canon in Judaism. However,

there are two problems with this claim. First, it can only be made with regard to
rabbinic Judaism, but rabbinic Judaism was only one strand of Judaism at this
time. This point is becoming increasingly clear. It has taken longer than per-
haps it should have to realize that there was no sudden triumph of Rabbinism
after 70. There was possibly as much diversity after 70 as before. We know for
certain that the Samaritans operated with a different canon from rabbinic
Judaism. But equally we cannot assume that the canon of Greek and Latin-
speaking Jews in the western Diaspora or Aramaic-speaking Jews in the east-
ern Diaspora coincided exactly with that of the Rabbis. In the Greek-speaking
west we can safely say that the canon would have included a number of the
works which belong to what Christians call the Apocrypha. This Greek canon
was also probably accepted by the Latin-speaking Jewish communities, and
would have been reflected in any Latin versions of the Bible they used.
The situation in the Aramaic-speaking east is less clear. Within the rabbinic
movement in Babylonia, as the Bavli shows, a Palestinian rabbinic canon in
Hebrew prevailed, but this would not necessarily have been the case for non-
rabbinic Jews. They probably relied on an Aramaic translation of the Bible
which they had received from Palestine (basically the same as the Onqelos-
Jonathan Targum), but this may have lacked some or all of the Writings.10

10  The existence of this Aramaic Bible in the eastern Diaspora, the equivalent of the
Greek version in the west, can be inferred, I would argue, from the Bible quotations in
the Aramaic incantation bowls. These are in Aramaic, and correspond reasonably well
with the Onqelos-Jonathan Targum. Indeed, the dialect of this Targum seems to have in-
fluenced the dialect of the bowls in general, suggesting it was well known and held in
high esteem. The rabbinic movement in Babylonia was to claim a rabbinic origin for this
Targum, at least its Pentateuchal portion, by attributing it mistakenly to Onqelos, who
supposedly translated it “before Rabbi Eleazar/Eliezer and Rabbi Joshua” (b. Meg. 3a), but,
as is well known, this is a misapplication of a tradition that referred originally to the Greek
translation of Aquila (see y. Meg. 1:9, 71c, and y. Qidd. 1, 59a, in the latter case “before Rabbi
Aqiva”). It is this Aramaic Bible that is referred to in b. Qidd. 49a as “our Targum” (Targum
didan), not, as is commonly supposed, in contrast to the so-called Palestinian Targums,
Textual Authority and the Problem of the Biblical Canon 49

The Targums of a number of the Writings (e.g. Song of Songs, Lamentations,

Ecclesiastes, Esther) are unusual, and it is difficult to imagine them as part of
the same Bible as the Onqelos-Jonathan Targum. Some of these Targums of the
Writings are clearly rabbinic in origin (e.g., Targums Lamentations and Song of
Songs). All this suggests that the Aramaic Bible of non-rabbinic Jews in the east
lacked the Writings. The curious rabbinic tradition that a Bat Qol forbade the
translation of the Writings into Aramaic (b. Meg. 3a) may reflect this fact—a
tradition which seems to fly in the face of the fact that we do have Targums for
the Writings within rabbinic tradition. It makes some sense, however, if the
tradition reflects the Aramaic Bible of non-rabbinic Jews.
Even in Palestine, the homeland of the rabbinic movement, we cannot as-
sume the hegemony of Rabbinism. Non-rabbinic forms of Judaism, led by the
priests, survived in Palestine down to the Middle Ages. It is probable that
the rabbinic movement and the priests actually agreed as to the extent of the
canon, and, as I have already suggested, the Rabbis took over a priestly list
of the holy books. But there may have been other canons in circulation as well.
The rabbinic concept of “outside books” itself hints at their existence. These
“outside books” were not just any books that did not belong to the rabbinic
canon, but a class of text which looked dangerously like Bible and which some
groups may have wanted to include within it.
The rabbinic/priestly canon is, then, probably only one of a number of can-
ons within Judaism in late antiquity: there was also the canon of the Greek/
Latin-speaking western Diaspora, the canon of the eastern Aramaic-speaking
Diaspora, the canon of the Samaritans, and (possibly) the canon of certain
non-rabbinic Jews in Palestine. Each of these canons was effectively closed,
each of them defined a body of sacred literature which constituted the Bible for
that community. Though the respective Bibles differed to a degree in content
they ministered as authority within their respective communities in much the
same way. To collapse this diversity into a single linear development is to distort
the process. It is a result of applying a simplistic evolutionary model to the de-
velopment of Judaism. The fact that the Greek canon of the western Diaspora
did not coincide precisely with the rabbinic canon of Palestine (though there
were large areas of overlap), did not mean that the diasporan canon was not as
closed and as authoritative for its own community as the rabbinic.

but in contrast to the Aramaic Bible version which circulated among Christians in the
east, the Peshitta. This Christian Aramaic version, at least in the Pentateuch, but possibly
also in the historical and prophetic books, is an adaptation of the Jewish Aramaic Bible of
the east. An interesting question that arises if the Jewish Aramaic Bible of the east did not
have the Writings is what happened on Purim?
50 Alexander

This analysis of the later situation, when different but no less closed and
authoritative canons existed side by side, ministering to their respective com-
munities, is suggestive for the earlier period as well. It is hard to see how in-
troducing a diachronic perspective changes anything. The fact that the canon
of the Qumran community may have differed somewhat in content from the
later rabbinic canon does not mean that it was more open or less authoritative
for its own community. There may well have been a Bible at Qumran just as
much as there was a Bible in later rabbinic Judaism. The fact that these Bibles
differed a little from each other, or one preceded the other in time, is neither
here nor there.

Authority Beyond Canons

There is a second problem with assuming that the canon was only definitively
closed in Judaism by 200, but not before then. What closure means in this con-
text, even in the case of Rabbinism, is often misunderstood. It is often inter-
preted in rather simplistic, Protestant, sola Scriptura terms: after the closure
of the canon only Scripture can minister as authority, so if we find other texts
claiming high authority, or being treated as highly authoritative, then the only
conclusion we can draw is that the boundaries of the canon were still fuzzy,
and the canon was not yet closed. The possibility that within religious systems
with a strong and inviolable biblical canon other texts, outside that canon may
actually function with equal or even greater authority, and that this is, in fact,
the norm, does not seem to be adequately considered.
Let me unpack this a little. A Biblical canon is first and foremost a theologi-
cal construct. For Rabbinism Scripture is a collection of Holy Writings (Kitvei
Qodesh) which are deemed to be inspired by the ruaḥ ha-qodesh, and this
makes them authoritative, because they are the word of God. Some of the texts
that make up rabbinic Scripture themselves claim divine inspiration, in vari-
ous forms. Others do not, but inspiration is foisted upon them. It is a cardinal
principle of rabbinic theology that prophecy, that is to say direct, divine inspi-
ration, ceased long ago. Some authorities place its cessation in the time of Ezra
or Alexander the Great, or even later, but the important thing is that it belongs
to the past, to the distant past from the rabbinic standpoint. What this means is
that fresh revelations cannot be added to Scripture.11

11  For a useful overview of the evidence, see L. Stephen Cook, On the Question of the
“Cessation of Prophecy” in Ancient Judaism (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011), esp. 149–73.
Textual Authority and the Problem of the Biblical Canon 51

That is the theology, but the way the theology works out in practice is some-
what paradoxical. The primacy of canonic Scripture turns out to be heavily
symbolic, or even polemical, because the Rabbis themselves proceeded in all
sorts of subtle ways to “subvert” it. They effectively added to the closed canon a
second canon—the Mishnah. This functions within their system in very much
the same way as the New Testament functions within Christianity. Both act
as regulae fidei for the interpretation of the Hebrew Bible. This is seen just as
clearly on the rabbinic side in the Midrashim of the Amoraic period, as it is
on the Christian side in Patristic Bible-commentary from the same era. The
Rabbis theologically regularized this position by constructing a doctrine of
Oral Torah, which is, in effect, a doctrine of continuing revelation.
It is important to distinguish between a theological canon and a functional
canon. The theological canon comprises those texts which as Scripture are sup-
posed to serve as ultimate authorities in belief and practice—in Rabbinism,
the Tanakh. The functional canon comprises those texts which actually serve
as authoritative in belief and practice. In rabbinic Judaism, as in the other so-
called “religions of the book,” these two canons overlap, but they are by no
means identical. The functional canon does not necessarily embrace even the
whole of the theological canon: there may be a canon within the theological
canon. Thus in rabbinic theology Torah generally takes precedence over Nakh.
Indeed, the latter can be treated as divrei qabbalah,12 which effectively puts it,
vis-à-vis Torah, on much the same footing as Oral Torah. And, as anyone with
even a nodding acquaintance with Judaism knows, Talmud regularly trumps
Torah in the determination of practice: what is de-rabbanan often takes prece-
dence over what is de-ʾoraita ʾ.
A similar tale can be told about the closure of the canon in Christianity.
Christianity is not so directly relevant to our investigation as is Judaism, but it
should not be ignored, because it documents certain aspects of the canonical
process more clearly than Judaism. The simple fact is that there never was a
universally accepted theological canon within Christianity, and in that sense
the canonical process never reached a universal, definitive closure. Council
after council tried to put an end to doubt, but doubt remained. The dispute
focused classically, but by no means exclusively, on the so-called apocryphal
or deuterocanonical writings. Jerome, famously, wanted to exclude these, on
the grounds that they were not in the synagogue canon (Prologus Galeatus
to the Four Books of Kings). He affirmed that they could be read, as Article VI
of the Thirty-Nine Articles of the Church of England puts it, “for example of life

12  See m. Taʿan. 2:1; t. Nid. 4:10; y. Ḥal. 1, 57b; Sifre Num. §112; Gen. Rab. 7:2; Tanḥ. (Buber),
Ḥuqqim 6; b. Roš Haš. 7a; b. Ḥag. 10b; b. B. Qam. 2b.
52 Alexander

and instruction of manners.” This is a sop to tradition, but in reality it does not
raise these books above a host of other edifying works which were never con-
sidered Scripture by anyone. That the apocrypha are Scripture was not finally
decided within the Catholic Church until the Council of Trent in 1546, but that
did not close the matter for the Church Universal, because Trent was reacting
to the Protestants who had definitively excluded these works from their Bible.
Every Christian denomination has its functional as well as its theological
canon. Each denomination—some strongly, some weakly—embraces, in ef-
fect, a notion of continuing revelation, however loudly it trumpets its belief
in a closed canon of inspired Scripture as the rule of faith. There are many
different functional canons within Christianity, and it is at this level that de-
nominational differences are most clearly manifest. The differences at the
level of the theological canon, though substantial, are not nearly as decisive.
Denominations within the broader Christian tradition can be seen as differ-
ent “text-centred” communities,13 that is to say they are communities centered
on somewhat different collections of authoritative texts, on different can-
ons, though all the canons share a common core. It is an oversimplification
to suppose that the differences between the communities is simply a matter
of different interpretations of the core, shared canonic texts. This would be to
underestimate the extent to which each community functionally canonizes a
whole range of texts which bear little or no relation to the Bible, and are not
recognized by other communities. Orthodox Christianity, both Eastern and
Western, takes the major ecumenical councils and their creeds as decisive
regulae fidei in their interpretation of their Scriptures. Beyond that each Church
has developed its own denominational hermeneutics and secondary authori-
ties. Anglicanism serves as a ready example of this. Anglicanism has tradition-
ally interpreted Scripture not only in the light of the ecumenical councils, but
also in terms of its own regula fidei, the Thirty Nine Articles of Religion. And in

13  On the concept of a “text-centred” community see Halbertal, People of the Book, 6–10.
Catherine Hezser, Jewish Literacy in Roman Palestine (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck: 2000), 200,
makes some shrewd and important observations about “textual communities.” I would
want to nuance her statement in three ways: (1) What she describes is not especially
characteristic of pre-70 Judaism, but applies equally to Judaism, and indeed Christianity
and Islam, right down to modern times. (2) She overstresses the “interpretive” element,
and underestimates the authoritative role of texts that do not directly expound the core
canon. (3) The way she depicts the textual communities as elite, scholarly institutions
from which ordinary people were excluded is too simple. The scholars have their ordi-
nary followers, who, though they did not participate in, or possibly understand all that
well, the learned discussions and debates, are impressed by them, and prepared to follow
their lead.
Textual Authority and the Problem of the Biblical Canon 53

elaborating its doctrine and practice it appeals not only to Scripture, but also
to tradition and reason. In line with this it will accept practices which though
not directly sanctioned by Scripture are arguably not incompatible with it,
particularly if these practices are well rooted in the tradition of the Catholic
Church. Implicit in this is the idea of the risen Christ’s continuing providential
guidance of the Church through the Spirit, in other words a doctrine of con-
tinuing revelation. This principle can be extended in such a way as to embrace
experience under the head of reason. Anglicanism’s position is actually not at
all unusual within “religions of the book.” The theological hermeneutics of a
rabbinic authority as eminent as Saadya Gaon can just as easily be understood
in terms of Scripture, tradition, and reason as can the hermeneutics of Richard
Hooker. What this means in literary terms is that within a given religious com-
munity there will be a substantial number of texts, over and above Scripture,
which function with equal if not at times higher authority than Scripture. This
problematizes the concept of canonic closure. It is this extended corpus which
is the real, functional canon of the community.
If this analysis is correct it throws up an obvious question. Does closing the
canon of Scripture, then, make no difference? The answer is that it does. At
a literary level, once a biblical canon is established, the functionally canonic
texts will tend to reference Scripture, to present themselves as commentary on
it. Even when they are “subverting” Scripture they will usually attempt to signal
their subservience to it. There are limits to the malleability of Scripture. It is
not a “wax nose” to be pushed and pulled into whatever shape the interpreter
desires. It would be going too far to say that “Scripture endures everything and
contributes nothing.” Nevertheless the primacy of Scripture is largely symbolic.
It is a tool to think with. If it can be made to support a given doctrine or prac-
tice well and good, but if it cannot then it can be quietly ignored.
In saying that after the official declaration of a canon subsequent authori-
tative pronouncements will tend to present themselves as commentary on it,
we need to understand “commentary” in a very loose sense. It is not simply a
question of lemmatic commentary. It may also take the form of rewriting the
biblical narrative or law, or writing a thematic treatise peppered with quota-
tions of Scripture, or promulgating a creed, or even composing a hymn which
alludes to Scripture. The text in question may not explicitly declare its “sub-
ordination” to Scripture. This is notably the case with the so-called Rewritten
Bible genre. From a purely literary perspective the intention here is unclear.
Is the rewritten version intended to replace the original, or is it some sort of
free-standing commentary on it, the reader being expected to read it with the
biblical text in mind? This question can usually be answered only by an appeal
to extraneous information. If the text belongs to a community which we know
54 Alexander

from other evidence did have a closed canon of Scripture then the reasonable
assumption would be that the text is intended as commentary. It is not meant
to re-open the canon, and no reader will assume that it does. If that evidence
is not obviously to hand, then the possibility of replacement becomes more
likely, but extreme care is still necessary. It is perfectly possible to imagine that
in some communities the extent and inviolability of the canon is so taken for
granted that no one bothers to mention it. Paradoxically the stronger the sense
of canon is, the more it may be taken for granted, and never openly referred to.
The crucial point here is that the evidence of the Rewritten Bible type of text
is intrinsically ambiguous, and we should not jump to conclusions. The impor-
tance of this observation will become clear presently.

The Evidence of the Dead Sea Scrolls

Armed with these preliminary clarifications let us turn now to the Dead Sea
Scrolls and consider some arguments for the view that there was not a closed
biblical canon at Qumran.

Textual Fluidity

A first possible sign is the fluidity of the supposedly biblical texts. The textual
fluidity of the biblical books at Qumran was one of the surprises of the Dead
Sea Scrolls: at least four major text-types were found. Is this not evidence that
the books in question had not yet reached fixed, canonic status? Surely fixing
canonic status and fixing the text would have gone hand in hand. This argu-
ment is not heard as much today as it was in the past, and with good reason:
it is now widely recognized that textual stability and canonization are not
automatically linked.14 They may be. One could envisage a situation where
competent authorities when deciding to canonize a work decide at the same
time to issue a definitive text of it. This may have happened with the so-
called “Peisistratan recension” of Homer.15 But this canonic version will not

14  Note e.g., Gene Ulrich’s comment, “The book, not its specific textual form, is canonical”
(Eugene Ulrich, “Qumran and the Canon of the Old Testament,” in The Biblical Canons,
ed. Jean-Marie Auwers and Henk Jan de Jonge [Leuven: Leuven University Press/Peeters,
2003], 57–80, 59).
15  The history of the canonization and fixing of the text of Homer’s epics is hardly less com-
plex than that of the Bible, but that a fixed canon and a (more or less) fixed text emerged
Textual Authority and the Problem of the Biblical Canon 55

necessarily displace existing deviant versions, nor prevent alternative versions,

for a variety of reasons, subsequently arising. In neither case is the canonicity
of the work itself in doubt. Different sects can recognize the same books as
canonic Scripture, but possess rather different versions of them. And there are
clear cases where textual fixity is a late development, achieved only long after
the canon has been decided. We can see this with the New Testament: it was
only in the Byzantine era that anything approaching a textus receptus emerged
in the Greek-speaking Christian world. The same is true of the Hebrew Bible.
The Masoretic text finally triumphed only in the early Middle Ages, though its
text-type is, of course, much older.
All that said, the oddity of this situation cannot pass unremarked. If ca-
nonic lists are issued by competent authorities, and variant versions of the
canonized texts are known to exist, it is, to say the least, strange that those
same authorities do not attempt at the same time to fix the text. This could be
done in two ways: either by producing a new, definitive edition of it (a time-
consuming and costly exercise), or by declaring one of the existing versions
correct against all the others (a simpler and more economical approach).16 It
is possible that canonization and text-fixing were actually more closely con-
nected than the evidence at first sight suggests. It is simply that the authorities
did not have the means to disseminate the canonic versions of the texts in such
a way as to displace existing “deviant” versions, or to prevent “deviant” versions
subsequently arising. In other words the disjuncture between text-form and

together seems a reasonable deduction from the surviving evidence. Whether this hap-
pened first in Athens or Alexandria remains, however, disputed. The fixed text seems,
somehow, to have achieved very widespread circulation and was found in the copies in
use in the Greek schools. See further Rudolf Pfeiffer, History of Classical Scholarship from
the Beginnings to the End of the Hellenistic Age (Oxford: Clarendon, 1968), and Eleanor
Dickey, Ancient Greek Scholarship: A Guide to Finding, Reading, and Understanding
Scholia, Commentaries, Lexica, and Grammatical Treatises from their Beginnings to the
Byzantine Era (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007).
16  The former would be illustrated by the tradition, to which, though late, I would give
some credence, that master copies of the Torah were deposited by the authorities in the
Jerusalem Temple (y. Taʿan. 4:2; Sifre Deut. §356; Mas. Sop. 6.4). That this had something
to do with canonization as well as fixing the text seems likely. If the text-form of these
manuscripts was proto-Masoretic then a text-edition was probably involved, which dif-
fered significantly from the text which had been taken to Alexandria from Jerusalem to
form the basis of the Old Greek Pentateuch. The latter procedure, of simply declaring
correct one of the existing recensions, seems to have been adopted by the rabbinic move-
ment, which did not have the scholarly resources to produce its own edition of the Torah,
but accepted the proto-Masoretic text. See further my essay, “Why no Textual Criticism in
Rabbinic Midrash” (note 1 above).
56 Alexander

canonicity is down to a failure of technology rather than to intention. It was

easier to publicize the definitive list than to publicize the definitive text. And
it is probable that many people would have been unaware that multiple re-
censions of their Bible were in circulation, because situations seldom arose in
which the different text-forms would have been juxtaposed and compared. It
is striking how the early Christian adversus Judaeos literature quotes versions
of Scripture which would not have been accepted by many Jews, because they
had a different text. Origen was one of the few on the Christian side to recog-
nize the extent of this problem. He was disturbed to discover how much the
Greek manuscripts of the Old Testament circulating in his day diverged from
the Hebrew. His Hexapla is predicated on the assumption that these differ-
ences are due to internal corruption in the Greek, and that the Hebrew could
be used to recover the pure, Greek Urtext. But Origen is unusual even among
Christian scholars in his day.17 The majority, whether scholars or not, seemed
either to have been unaware of the textual diversity of their canonic Scriptures,
or to have chosen to ignore it. Textual diversity is, then, as a simple historical
fact, compatible with canonicity. The unusual thing about Qumran is that this
diversity is found within so small and confined a community. But we must not
jump too hastily to conclusions as to what this means. The majority of the bibli-
cal manuscripts at Qumran are of the so-called proto-Masoretic text-type, and
this may have been the favoured version. We should not simply assume that all
the different text-types were equally acceptable within the community. Maybe
they were, and we have here an extreme case of the disjuncture between textu-
al fixity and canonicity. But it is equally possible that the non-proto-Masoretic
copies, having been brought into the community by new members, were con-
signed to the “Genizah” as soon as it was discovered their text was not kosher.
We need to apply forensic rigour to the raw facts.18

17  Justin was to some degree already aware of the problem (see Dial. 71–73). The extent of
the differences became clearer once Christian scholars gained access to Aquila’s transla-
tion. Origen, and indeed Jerome after him, are somewhat inconsistent in their attitude,
in their scholarly writings acknowledging the Hebraica Veritas, but in their more popular
writings still willing at times to accuse the Jews of corrupting Scripture.
18  Lim argues that “the sectarian documents . . . did not assign authoritative status to one
particular text-type” on the grounds that a number of sectarian works cite variant biblical
texts, sometimes side-by-side. The evidence is, however, meager for such a sweeping con-
clusion. His two most telling examples are 4Q175 (4QTest) which quotes “the Samaritan
text-type of Deut 5 and 18, the MT of Num 24 and Deut 33, and the ‘Psalms of Joshua’
(4Q379) (including the LXX of Josh 6:26),” and Pesher Habakkuk, which is “aware of the
MT and textual variants from 8HevXIIgr, LXX, and Peshitta” (The Formation of the Jewish
Textual Authority and the Problem of the Biblical Canon 57

Many of the issues we are discussing here are illustrated by the problem
of the Qumran Psalter. This was thrown into sharp focus by the publication
in 1965 of the Great Psalms Scroll, 11QPsa (11Q5). The extant text of this scroll
clearly covered the last third of the traditional Psalter, though the overlapping
texts are in a somewhat different order, and intermingled with them are other
compositions not in the Masoretic Text. The immediate conclusion that this
straightforwardly represented the extent of the Psalter at Qumran was quickly
rejected because the other two-thirds of the MT-Psalter are attested in other
Dead Sea Psalms scrolls. So clearly the community knew collections of Psalms
which together seem, by and large, to have corresponded to our 150-psalm
Psalter, but with additions, a different order at times, and detailed, variant read-
ings. We must be very careful how we characterize this divergence between the
MT-Psalter and the Qumran Psalms Scrolls, and what we deduce form it. To
argue that it shows that the content of the Psalter at Qumran was “still fluid”
is tendentious, because it presupposes the evolutionary model of canoniza-
tion against which I have been arguing, with the MT-Psalter assumed to rep-
resent “final closure.” We cannot simply assume that the Great Psalms Scroll
stands in direct genealogical relationship with the MT-Psalter and then argue
that it shows that MT-Psalter had not yet “emerged.” The suggestion that 11QPsa
(11Q5) may have been drawn off from an MT-type Psalter for some specific (but
at present obscure) liturgical purpose (whether in the Jerusalem Temple or at
Qumran) has rightly been entertained as a possibility by some scholars. We
must always bear in mind the incompleteness of our evidence. The fact that
we do not have an MT-Psalter at Qumran does not necessarily mean that it was
not in existence by then, or even unknown to the community. A reasoned case
has been made, by Sanders, Flint and others, that the Qumran Psalms Scrolls
point to several different versions of the Psalter at Qumran, but whether we
should see these as developmental stages is less clear, and the diversity in itself
does not negate the canonicity of the book, nor demonstrate that the commu-
nity at Qumran did not recognize some sort of Psalter as canonic.19

Canon, 126–27). These cases certainly provide food for thought, but how intentional was
the citing of different text-forms, what part might “faulty” memory have played in the
process, and is such inconsistency unattested in other authors who, on other grounds, we
know had a fixed text of Scripture?
19  See the judicious summary of this debate in Lim, The Formation of the Jewish Canon,
122–28.
58 Alexander

The Continued Production and Circulation of “Bible-Like” Texts

A second possible sign of canonic openness in the Second Temple period, is

the continuing appearance and circulation of new, “Bible-like” texts, that is to
say texts written in “biblical” style, often claiming “biblical” authorship, and
niched20 into the “biblical” narrative. No-one denies that certain texts were
widely regarded as authoritative in Second Temple Judaism, and many of
these now form part of our canonic Hebrew Bible. The Torah of Moses and the
prophecies of the great prophets are cases in point, though the latter were pos-
sibly less universally authoritative than the former.21 But if we find texts being
created which on the face of it claim equal status and authority with the Torah
of Moses or with the books of the major prophets, such as Isaiah and Jeremiah,
does not that suggest the canon cannot be closed, since so many are bidding
to add their newly-minted writings to it? Several works in this category have
long been known, because they are included in the Latin Apocrypha: the para-
Jeremianic book of Baruch, including the Epistle of Jeremiah, is a case in point.
But the extent of this kind of literature in the Second Temple period has really
only become clear since the discovery of the Scrolls.22
There are several reasons why we should not jump to the conclusion that
the flourishing of this kind of literature suggests there was not yet a well-
established canon. Material of this kind was generated in abundance later in
communities with closed canons. A significant portion of the material in this
category is legendary in character and fills in lacunae or niches in narratives in
the biblical text, and, on close analysis, can sometimes be seen to be exegetical

20  On the idea of a niche narrative see Alexander Samely, Profiling Jewish Literature in
Antiquity (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013), 66 (point 7.1.2.3), 69 (point 7.2.2.1), 266,
277.
21  The Samaritans did not accept the Prophets. Neither, perhaps, did the Sadducees (cf.
Josephus, Ant. 18.16–17), though this remains debated. If the Sadducees did not have a
prophetic canon, then this is a problem for those who suggest a link between them and
the Qumran community.
22  See the texts under the category of “Biblically based apocryphal writings” in Geza Vermes’s
The Complete Dead Sea Scrolls in English (London: Penguin, 2004). Many of these texts
are fragmentary and their content and “apocryphal” character stand in some doubt, and
the criticism could be made that Vermes’s classification presupposes the existence of the
later canon in Second Temple times. That is a fair point, but the fact remains that there is
a considerable body of literature which runs parallel in various ways to the major texts,
and its status is unclear. At least one of these texts—the paraprophetic Book of Daniel—
did make it into the later rabbinic canon: it did successfully pass itself off as biblical. And
several other writings in this category got into later Christian canons.
Textual Authority and the Problem of the Biblical Canon 59

of it. It, therefore, signals, however obliquely, its dependence on the biblical
text, in other words its postbiblical, postcanonic status. An obvious example of
this later development of parabiblical tradition is the huge flowering of bibli-
cal aggadot in rabbinic Judaism. Ginzberg’s encyclopedic Legends of the Jews
collects and synthesizes much of this tradition from Talmudic and early medi-
eval sources, but Ginzberg by no means exhausted its riches. Biblical aggadot,
some with only the most tenuous relationship to the biblical narrative, have
gone on being generated within Judaism right down to modern times.23 The
impact of these aggadot on the Jewish religious imagination has been im-
mense. Many even biblically literate Jews will retell Bible-stories in a way that
seamlessly integrates postbiblical aggadot into the basic biblical narrative, and
be hard put to it to specify what is actually in the Bible and what is not. In other
words they read their Bibles through the aggadot; the aggadot are functionally
authoritative.24 Yet this clearly does not mean that they do not have, theologi-
cally speaking, a closed canon of Scripture. The development of this kind of
“parabiblical” tradition was already in full swing in Second Temple times, but,
as the later analogies show, it is not necessarily indicative of an “open” canon.
Indeed, the later analogies suggest that it is easier to understand the phenom-
enon as postbiblical, as postcanonic in character. It was the closing of the canon
that gave impetus to the development of such parabiblical tradition.
1 Enoch demands closer analysis in this context.25 Though it depends for its
authority on a niche figure in the biblical narrative—Enoch who is briefly and

23  Louis Ginzberg, The Legends of the Jews, 7 vols. (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society
of America, 1909–1938). Other significant collections have been assembled inter alios by
Angelo S. Rappoport, Moses Gaster, Micha J. Berdyczewski (Bin-Gorion), Chaim N. Bialik
and Yehoshua H. Ravnitsky, Dov Noy, Dan Ben Amos, and Eli Yassif. Scholars who dismiss
this aggadic tradition as of little religious importance could not be more wrong. Two fea-
tures of it are particularly relevant to our present discussion. First the extent to which it
has buried the biblical narratives under a veritable “tsunami” of later retelling, and sec-
ond the extent to which tales of Bible figures and tales of postbiblical sages are fused in
popular imagination into one continuous Heilsgeschichte.
24  On the theological importance of Aggadah see the classic study of Abraham J. Heschel,
Heavenly Torah as Refracted through the Generations (New York and London: Continuum,
2007).
25  I use 1 Enoch as shorthand for the collection of five books that made up that work in
Second Temple times, with the Book of Giants taking the place of the Similitudes, which
appear to have been unknown at Qumran. The Enochic texts seem to have undergone
their own process of canonization. I am not concerned with that here but with the rela-
tionship of the Enochic writings to existing biblical canons which comprised at least the
Torah of Moses and the Prophets.
60 Alexander

enigmatically alluded to in Gen 5:19–24—1 Enoch is not obviously exegetical

of Scripture, apart from filling in, to some degree, a narrative lacuna. Much of
the doctrine it propounds, particularly its astronomical material, is not to be
found anywhere else in Scripture: it is radically new. Yet it claims high author-
ity for that doctrine. It was revealed to the patriarch Enoch in heaven. Enoch is
portrayed as a prophet like the other great prophets: 1 Enoch 14 contains a vivid
account of his prophetic commissioning vision. The relationship of 1 Enoch
to the Torah of Moses is unclear. It is probably going too far to see 1 Enoch as
proposing a different paradigm of Judaism to the Mosaic paradigm. To talk of
an “Enochic Judaism” is exaggerated because the books of Enoch on their own
are insufficient to form the basis of a rounded religious life. However, it can
hardly be denied that there is a certain tension between the Enochic lore and
the Mosaic. The choice of Enoch as the revealer and patron of the new learn-
ing may be mildly polemical: Enoch precedes Moses by many generations. He
lived before the Flood. His doctrine is, therefore, the older, and that may have
been deemed to give it the edge. It is possible that the authors or compilers of
the Enochic literature were bidding to have it recognized as canonic Scripture,
but it is hardly likely that they wanted 1 Enoch to replace the Torah of Moses,
or to de-canonize the Torah. The tension between the texts is actually not that
great, and it is not hard to integrate the doctrine of 1 Enoch into Mosaic Torah.
This process of integration has already begun in the book of Jubilees. By far the
most important practical teaching of 1 Enoch is its calendar, and that does not
obviously clash with the calendar presupposed by the Torah of Moses: rather it
can be seen as clarifying it. The fact that the Qumran community accepted the
Enochic calendar suggests it did accept Enoch as canonic, but what we have
here is best construed in terms of adding to an already well-established canon.
Though the addition of texts does not fundamentally affect the status of
the existing canon, it may, nevertheless, have important implications. When the
Church added the New Testament to the Old, it reinforced the latter’s canonic
status, because the added texts constantly quote the Old Testament as “scrip-
ture” and “word of God.” It also, as we saw, imposed a “rule of faith” on the
Old Testament: the Old Testament would henceforth be read from the stand-
point and in the light of the New. Similarly, the addition of the Mishnah, as
Oral Torah going back to Moses on Sinai, to the Tanakh had the effect of
reinforcing Tanakh’s canonic status, because the Mishnah is full of quotations
from Tanakh. And Mishnah, too, functioned as a regula fidei for the reading of
Tanakh. It is not clear, however, what the effect would be of adding 1 Enoch to
the Torah and the Prophets. It could not reinforce their authority, because it
was supposed to have preceded them in time: it could not, therefore, directly
quote from them. Nor is it easy to see how it could have functioned as a regula
fidei. Nor is it obvious where it might be listed in the order of books in the
Textual Authority and the Problem of the Biblical Canon 61

canon: it might stand before the Torah as chronologically prior, but it might
also be listed in the Writings, alongside Daniel, or the Wisdom books. All this
is speculation. One thing, however, is reasonably certain, and it is that if the
authors of the Enochic books did intend them as Scripture, then they were in
all probability trying to add them to an existing canon.
Later analogies may once again throw some light on the problem. In the late
ancient/early Islamic period in Palestinian Judaism there was a flowering of
Enoch-like texts, in the sense of texts which in various ways claimed direct pro-
phetic authority. I am thinking here of the Heikhalot literature (e.g., 3 Enoch),
and the new Hebrew apocalypses such as Sefer Eliyyahu and Sefer Zerubbavel.
Many of these texts are attributed to great biblical figures,26 and their contents
are claimed to have come from direct angelic revelation, much like the proph-
ecies of the great prophets of old. Now there is absolutely no doubt that this
literature arose in communities which had a closed biblical canon, so what is
going on here? There are two possibilities. Either, the authors of these texts
were bidding to add them to the canon. That is not impossible: the Rabbis’
concern about Heikhalot literature may reflect, at least in part, an uneasiness
about its prophetic claims. Or, and this on the whole is more likely, the pro-
phetic claims were transparent fictions, which took nobody in, and were not
intended to. They were fundamentally literary devices. The reason they took
nobody in is that the theological canon was firmly closed and everybody knew
that. This did not prevent some people, however, from taking these writings
seriously, and, in effect, making them part of their functional canon. I can see
no obvious reason why the situation in Second Temple times could not have
been similar.

“Rewritten Bible” Texts

A third possible sign of canonic openness in the Second Temple period is the
existence of the so-called “Rewritten Bible” texts. This category to some extent
overlaps with the legendary expansions mentioned above, in that narrative

26  Some, however, are attributed to great rabbinic authorities. For example, though Enoch/
Metatron reveals much of the content of 3 Enoch, the “prophetic” figure who ascends
to heaven to receive the revelations is Rabbi Ishmael. This reflects the post-Talmudic
date of these works and the canonization of the Mishnah. The situation is analogous to
the canonization of the New Testament. This generated a collection of New Testament
“apocrypha” in which post-canonic works were pseudepigraphically attributed to New
Testament figures. So the canonization of the Mishnah led to the attribution of post-
canonic works to great Mishnaic authorities.
62 Alexander

“Rewritten Bible,” such as the Book of Jubilees, includes legendary material.

However Rewritten Bible engages with the text of Scripture on a much broader
front (e.g., with a whole biblical book, or more). The legends we alluded to
earlier engage with Scripture on a narrow front: they have a very narrow point
of departure from the biblical text.27 And “Rewritten Bible” can also include
legal texts such as the Temple Scroll. The extent of rewriting varies from text to
text. In the case of the so-called Reworked Pentateuch (4Q158, 4Q364–367) it
is generally more minimal than in Jubilees, more in the nature of paraphrase
of the underlying text.28 “Rewritten Bible” has become a contested category,
some objecting to the term on the grounds that it anachronistically presup-
poses the existence of a “Bible” in Second Temple times.29 But, and this is a
major contention of my argument here, the situation is so unclear that it is
equally tendentious to assume that there was not.
It is very hard to make any sense of this type of composition without assum-
ing that it is rewriting extant texts which have already acquired a considerable
degree of authority. If this is the case then Rewritten Bible may have no ca-
nonic implications: it may be classified simply as commentary on the original
texts, and as commentary is totally compatible with those texts being canonic.
Indeed it points to their canonic status. Canonic questions only rear their head
if the rewritten versions are meant to replace the older texts, and in effect to de-
canonize them. We might formulate the argument as follows: if the Pentateuch,
or any other “biblical” books, had reached anything like the canonic status and
authority it was to achieve later, then no-one would have dared to rewrite it
in this way. Such a free rewriting is not easy to square with high authority and
canonicity. But one has only to try to formulate the argument clearly to see
how weak it is. I would hesitate to invoke here the argument made above that
textual fluidity and canonicity are compatible. The degree of fluidity here, even
in the case of the Reworked Pentateuch, is well beyond the textual variants I
had in mind there. But of considerable pertinence is my earlier point that it is
difficult to infer from Rewritten Bible texts themselves their attitude to their
underlying text. It is perfectly possible to see the freedom of the later authors
as possible simply because the canonicity of the original text is so well known,

27  See my discussion of “centrifugal” and “centripetal” tendencies in Jubilees in “Retelling

the Old Testament,” in It is Written: Scripture Citing Scripture, ed. Donald A. Carson and
Hugh G.M. Williamson (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1988), 99–121.
28  See Sidnie White Crawford, Rewriting Scripture in Second Temple Times (Grand Rapids:
Eerdmans, 2008).
29  See József Zsengellér, ed., Rewritten Bible after Fifty Years: Texts, Terms, or Techniques:
A Last Dialogue with Geza Vermes, JSJSup 166 (Leiden: Brill, 2014).
Textual Authority and the Problem of the Biblical Canon 63

and its inviolability so widely acknowledged that no one is going to suppose

that the new texts are improved editions of the old, and meant to replace
them. They will be read as some sort of commentary on them. It is true that the
Rabbis seemed to have been worried by the phenomenon of Rewritten Bible,
and conspicuously to have avoided its use in their expositions of Tanakh. They
prefer the classic lemmatic commentary, in part, I believe, because it avoids
any possibility of confusion between the original and the commentary, and it
obviates the risk of anyone making the mistake that the commentary is some-
how meant to replace the original—a possibility that theoretically arises be-
cause Rewritten Bible mimics the biblical voice and the biblical literary form.
The Rabbis did allow Rewritten Bible in the case of the Targum (which was
not in origin a rabbinic institution), but in this case confusion was less likely,
because the Targum was in Aramaic. If it had been in Hebrew then they might
have taken a different stance; instead they tried to hedge about the liturgical
performance of the Targum with all sorts of rules and regulations that made its
subservience to the Hebrew original manifest. Yet even within rabbinic circles,
in Gaonic and medieval times, Rewritten Bible in Hebrew flourished: a classic
example is Sefer Ha-Yashar.30
Interestingly, even if the Rewritten Bible texts had been meant to replace
the older texts what might conceivably have happened is that both the old
and the new ended up side-by-side within the same canon. They would simply
have been added to the canon. Witness how (assuming the classic view of the
Synoptic problem) Matthew and Luke ended up alongside Mark in the New
Testament, even though there is every reason to think the later Gospels were
intended to replace the earlier. This phenomenon is well attested within the
Tanakh in the case of the Books of Chronicles, which were put into the same
canon with the earlier books which they rewrite, as also was Deuteronomy’s
rewriting of the earlier biblical law codes. The phenomenon of “inner biblical
exegesis” underscores how arbitrary the canonic boundary is. Exactly the same
processes are occurring on both sides of the line—within the canon and out-
side of it. This was the case in Second Temple times, and it is still the case today.
The canonic boundary is important, but its importance is largely symbolic.

30  See Joseph Dan, ed., Sefer Ha-Yashar (Jerusalem: Mosad Bialik, 1986). I take no view here
as to the origins of this work, but use it simply to represent a whole class of late litera-
ture that rewrites the Bible. It may be as late as the 16th century. The later the better,
because the clearer it then becomes that it arose in a context of a fixed biblical canon.
Some Mormon authorities, starting with Joseph Smith himself, seemed to have toyed with
the idea of recognizing Sefer Ha-Yashar as canonic, though the Latter Day Saints today
hold no official position on the question.
64 Alexander

Even more paradoxical is the thought that if the rewritten text had replaced
the older version the canon qua canon might actually have been unaffected.
Within the medical schools Hippocratic treatises were sometimes rewritten to
reflect later medical theory and knowledge, but these rewritten versions were
still attributed to Hippocrates, and the Hippocratic canon qua canon remained
essentially unchanged, though there were also pseudepigraphic treatises
added to it.31 There is no clear evidence that the rewritten Bible texts of the
Second Temple period were intended as replacements of the older works. One
thing does, however, seem reasonably certain: if the older works had already
achieved canonic status in the fullest sense of the term, then the newer ver-
sions, whatever their intention or format, would probably have been received
simply as commentary on them.

The Diverse Character of the Qumran “Library”

There is a final possible sign of the canonic openness of the Second Temple
period that I will consider. It is the deduction that might be drawn from the
diverse character of the Qumran “library.” The argument could go something
like this: it is reasonable to assume that all the texts preserved in the Qumran
library were used by the Qumran community, and were to greater or lesser
degree authoritative in its life and practice. But that “library” contains not only
what we now think of as biblical books but many other texts as well. Is it really
conceivable, if the biblical books had already achieved high canonic status,
that we would find such a range of authorities within this one small commu-
nity? Again, one has only to try to formulate this argument to see how weak it
is. There is no good reason to think that every text that got into the “library”
was authoritative, or was used by the community. It is possible, as I suggest-
ed earlier with regard to deviant Bible-texts, that some texts were brought in
by new members but never accepted or used. In the case of other texts, e.g.,
the Enochic literature, their status within the community may have changed
over time: having once been influential and authoritative, they later fell into
relative neglect. But as later analogies show, the acceptance of non-biblical
texts as authoritative even when there exists a clearly defined, closed biblical
canon, is normal. Here I would recall the distinction made earlier between a
“theological” and a “functional” canon. It is absolutely standard for religious
communities which proclaim certain texts as alone constituting the Word of

31  See Loveday Alexander, “Canon and Exegesis in the Medical Schools of Antiquity,” in
The Canon of Scripture in Jewish and Christian Tradition, ed. Philip S. Alexander and
Jean-Daniel Kaestli (Lausanne: Éditions du Zèbre, 2007), 115–53.
Textual Authority and the Problem of the Biblical Canon 65

God, as alone constituting canonic Scripture, to function in everyday life with

a rather different set of authorities, and for the non-Scriptural texts in reality
to play the more prominent role.
The proverbial visitor from Mars, parachuted into the library of one of these
communities, might have the greatest difficulty discovering the theological
canon to which the community subscribed among the mass of apparently au-
thoritative and revered texts, if he couldn’t find a canonic list or a single codex
with the title “Holy Bible” on its cover. If the library belonged to a medieval rab-
binic Jewish community he would struggle to separate the Tanakh as the theo-
logical canon from copies of the Talmuds, from Siddurim, from Midrashim,
from responsa and law codes, and so forth. By careful detective work he might
come to the conclusion that since so many of these works seem to point again
and again to Tanakh, this collection must have possessed some sort of super-
ordinate authority, but he would be puzzled by how frequently that authority
seemed to be supplemented or overridden by other texts. The reason for this
is precisely because the theological canon is not based on actual use, but on
theological assertion.
The same goes for the Qumran “library.” The clever Martian might well note
that certain texts are cited as authoritative again and again, and that these
same texts are deemed worthy of formal commentary and exposition. If he
were very clever he might notice that some of the clearly authoritative texts
in the library are treated in a subtly different way from the “biblical” texts. He
couldn’t fail to notice in the library copies of rulebooks clearly intended to gov-
ern the life of the community from day to day. These have a self-evident, intrin-
sic authority, and yet their rules are called serakhim never Torah, or mitzvah or
the like. Despite their importance, an importance underscored by the punish-
ments which ensue if they are disobeyed, they never claim divine origin or
sanction, and, to judge by the radically different versions of them in the library,
the rules could be changed (presumably by competent authority). He might,
then, feel his way towards a core corpus of religious texts which had been as-
signed higher authority, but, short of explicit statements or theologoumena, he
would remain unsure what the exact limits of this corpus were, and he would
remain puzzled as to why so many other texts functioned with equal, if not, at
times, greater authority than this primary canon.
I rest my case. My argument is simple: the phenomena which may be in-
voked to deny the existence of canons of Sacred Scripture in the Second
Temple period can all be found within Judaism and Christianity from the third
century onwards, when no-one seriously doubts, on the basis of external testi-
mony, that biblical canons existed in both traditions. They cannot, therefore,
be used to deny the existence of closed canons of Sacred Scripture in Second
Temple times.
66 Alexander

Evidence for the Existence of a Canon in the Second Temple Period

Thus far the argument is negative, but there is also positive evidence that such
canons existed. There is the singling out right across of the whole spectrum of
Second Temple Jewish literature (the Scrolls, Philo, the New Testament) of the
same limited corpus of texts as especially authoritative, quotations from which
are introduced by special scriptural citation-formulae, a corpus significantly
coinciding with later canons. To this we may add the explicit allusions to the ex-
istence of canons in 4QMMT (4Q394–399, see Composite Text C 10), in Ben Sira
(Prologue), in Philo (Contempl. Life 25–29); in the New Testament (Luke 24:44),
in Josephus (Ag. Ap. 1.37–43), in 4 Ezra (14:22–48), and, possibly, in Jubilees
(2:23–24, though this passage may be a secondary insertion). Admittedly these
canons do not coincide exactly with each other, and are not specific as to their
contents, but it would be hyper-skeptical to deny that they point to the con-
cept of a canon. Add to this the widespread doctrine of inspiration in Second
Temple times, which claims that certain texts are special, because they were
spoken in the holy spirit, and constitute prophecy. Consider also the implica-
tions of the widespread use of pseudepigraphy. Pseudepigraphy is a complex
phenomenon, but it is hard to understand it except against the background
of a biblical canon of some sort. It presupposes a doctrine of the cessation of
prophecy. Because the authors of these works are living after the prophetic
watershed, the only way they can try to gatecrash Scripture is by attributing
their compositions to figures from the distant prophetic past. Widespread
pseudepigraphy points towards a widespread sense of canonic closure.
Generally speaking the process of canonization involves a dialectic between
tradition/usage on the one hand, and official promulgation on the other, be-
tween the consensus of the community and the decision of the authorities. It is
easier for a text to be accepted as canonic if it has already achieved widespread
use and reverence within the community. Its promulgation by the authorities
as canonic in this case is simply the “icing on the cake.” However, to suppose
that this is the only way canonicity arises is quite wrong, and indicative of the
simplistic evolutionary model which I have criticized above. It is possible for
authorities to promulgate texts as canonic de novo, particularly in the area of
law. Or, they may refuse to recognize or even try to ban texts which are widely
accepted. But whether or not they succeed will depend in large measure on the
decision of the community. If it chooses to ignore their decisions, and lives by
a somewhat different functional canon, then the authorities have only limited
options to enforce their will.
History suggests that competent authorities have always a crucial role to
play in the process of canonization. We cannot leave it all down to the rather
Textual Authority and the Problem of the Biblical Canon 67

random process of an emerging consensus. This might suggest a crucial dif-

ference between the situation in Second Temple times and the situation later.
Surely in the latter case there is clear evidence for the issuing by competent
authorities of canonic lists of Scripture. But where is the evidence for such of-
ficial canonization in the Second Temple period, for authorities intervening to
define which books were holy? Here one might be tempted to turn to the state-
ment in 2 Macc 2:13–15 about Judas gathering together “all the books that had
been lost on account of the war that had come upon us” (cf. 1 Macc 1:54–57).
That some process of canonization is alluded to here is suggested by the ex-
hortation that follows: “So if you have need of them, send people to get them
for you.” The Maccabees are promoting their collection as the basis of Jewish
life. But the statement is vague, and it is not at all obvious that any canon they
would have promulgated would have been totally accepted at Qumran. Would
they not have been tempted to put some version of their own exploits into the
national writings (some form of the original Hebrew of 1 Maccabees), to justify
their newly minted festival of Hanukkah, which they attempted to promote in
the Diaspora? If Qumran was following a canonic list then that list was almost
certainly compiled by the Jerusalem priesthood, but when it was promulgated,
and by whom precisely, is not known.
Is the situation later actually all that different? Once we exclude Yavneh from
a role in defining the rabbinic canon, then we have to say that we do not know
when and by whom the list the Rabbis followed was promulgated. As we saw
the remnants of that list are, disconcertingly, first attested in the Babylonian
Talmud. And although on the Christian side there were ecumenical councils
which provided definitive lists of the canonic Scriptures, those lists appear
quite late in the day, when the process is already effectively complete. The date
and provenance of the few earlier lists is unclear. So, although it is hard to see
the canonic process being completed without the intervention of competent
religious authority (emerging consensus not being in itself enough), we have
to concede that when, where, and by whom those decisive interventions were
made often remains obscure.

Conclusion

In short, the canonic situation attested at Qumran and more generally in

Second Temple Judaism, though less well documented, does not look all that
different from what we find later. The modeling of the canonic process in
terms of openness and closure which lies behind much of the debate is mis-
leading. The openness which some detect in Second Temple times never really
68 Alexander

went away: it is as much a feature of the situation post 200 as it is a feature

pre-70. There is, to be sure, a danger of anachronism, but the real anachro-
nism lies not in seeing the first century BCE in terms of the third century CE,
but rather in seeing the third century CE in terms of post-Reformation debates
over canon and Scripture. This, I would suggest, lies at the root of much of
the present misunderstanding. It has led to a fixation on the question of clo-
sure, on textual stability, and on the supreme authority of Scripture—concepts
which were actually not all that important in late antiquity. It has become a
cliché of the modern history of religions to classify Judaism and Christianity as
fundamentally “religions of the Book”: if this is understood in a sola Scriptura
way, then it overestimates Scripture’s historic role within both traditions. Both
religions have in the past functioned, and continue to function, without ex-
clusive or even, at times, with only minimal reference to Scripture. Scripture
is only one of a number of textual authorities that are followed, and often,
in practice, not the most important one at that. The Bible for sure is present
and is proclaimed central, but its presence and centrality is often as a symbol
rather than as a body of doctrine and practice. If you start from a sola Scriptura
model of the canon, then it would be hard to find that model in Second Temple
Judaism, but, I would argue, it would be equally hard to find it anywhere before
the Reformation.
Reflections on Literacy, Textuality, and Community
in the Qumran Dead Sea Scrolls

Charlotte Hempel

As the varied contributions in this volume amply demonstrate, the Dead Sea
Scrolls have offered an unparalleled lab for scholars on textuality in antiquity.1
Given the fulsomeness of its evidence pride of place is held by the Community
Rule tradition. The significance of those eleven at times quite different manu-
scripts produced over the space of almost two centuries goes far beyond the
particularities of their equally fascinating contents. Initially scholars worked
for a number of formative years only with the best preserved manuscript of
the Community Rule from Cave 1 (1QS) which was considered the “manual”
or constitution of an ancient Jewish group hidden for millennia in a cave in
the Judean Desert.2 The publication of ten additional manuscripts (MSS) from
Cave 4 in 1998 has opened up a much wider horizon of scholarly interest in
these manuscripts.3 While a large proportion of their contents overlap with
1QS, some of the witnesses preserved in Cave 4 diverge markedly from what is
said in 1QS. The manuscript tradition of the Community Rule (S) thus offers
precious first hand-hand evidence of textual growth and inter-textual relation-
ships also with the Damascus Document and 4QMiscellaneous Rule (4Q265).4
The paradigmatic place of 1QS in discussions of the nature of the so-called
“Qumran Community” has also influenced investigations of the genre of
Rules. Here Ben Wright’s analysis of the issue of genre in wisdom and apoca-
lyptic—where he argues for a move away from the proto-type approach—is

1  It is a great pleasure to dedicate these reflections to my colleague George Brooke who has ac-
companied my career from its earliest days. His exemplary standards as a scholar, colleague,
and friend are an example many of us struggle to emulate. His own meticulous, wide-rang-
ing, and often adventurous contributions to scholarship alongside the enormous generosity
he has extended to so many colleagues across the globe continue to have a huge impact on
the field of Qumran and associated disciplines.
2  See, e.g., Jacob Licht, The Rule Scroll: A Scroll from the Wilderness of Judaea (Jerusalem: Bialik
Institute, 1965), 8 (in Hebrew), and Frank Moore Cross, The Ancient Library of Qumran, 3rd
ed. (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 1995), 54–87.
3  For the principal edition see Philip S. Alexander and Geza Vermes, Qumran Cave IV.26: Serekh
Ha-Yaḥad and Two Related Texts, DJD 26 (Oxford: Clarendon, 1998).
4  See Charlotte Hempel, The Qumran Rule Texts in Context: Collected Studies, TSAJ 154
(Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013), 109–19 for analysis and further bibliography.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ���7 | doi ��.��63/9789004344532_005

70 Hempel

illuminating also for the S tradition.5 In light of the full manuscript picture we
are dealing with a selection of proto-types or at least challenges to the proto-
type of 1QS and are being forced to re-draw the genre map of what constitutes
a Rule text or even a Serekh manuscript.6

A Theory of Local Rule Texts

The literarily complex picture of the growth of the S tradition, in turn, led to a
period of reflection on how best to square this evidence with some kind of “life
on the ground.” A number of attempts have been made to propose a series of
distinct realities behind the various S MSS.7 Thus, John Collins has proposed
an identification of the Yaḥad with “an association dispersed in multiple settle-
ments” rather than a single community that resided at the Qumran site.8
Here he is in agreement with Alison Schofield’s suggestion that different
copies of the Community Rule should be associated with a variety of relat-
ed settlements that were eventually brought to Khirbet Qumran at a time of

5  Benjamin G. Wright, “Joining the Club: A Suggestion about Genre in Early Jewish Texts,” DSD
17 (2010): 289–314. See also the discussion of cognitive genre theory and idealised cogni-
tive models in Robert Williamson, “Pesher: A Cognitive Model of the Genre,” DSD 17 (2010):
336–60.
6  See Charlotte Hempel, “Rules,” in The T&T Clark Companion to the Dead Sea Scrolls, ed.
George Brooke and Charlotte Hempel (London: T&T Clark, forthcoming); Jutta Jokiranta and
Hanna Vanonen, “Multiple Copies of Rule Texts or Multiple Rule Texts? Boundaries of the
S and M Documents,” in Crossing Imaginary Boundaries: The Dead Sea Scrolls in the Context
of Second Temple Judaism, ed. Mika S. Pajunen and Hanna Tervanotko, PFES 108 (Helsinki:
Finnish Exegetical Society, 2015), 11–60; and Jutta Jokiranta, “What is ‘Serekh ha-Yahad (S)’?
Thinking about Ancient Manuscripts as Information Processing,” in Sybils, Scriptures and
Scrolls: John Collins at Seventy, ed. Joel Baden, Hindy Najman, and Eibert Tigchelaar, JSJSup
175 (Leiden: Brill, 2016), 637–58.
7  See, e.g., John Collins, Beyond the Qumran Community: The Sectarian Movement of the Dead
Sea Scrolls (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010) and Alison Schofield, From Qumran to the Yaḥad:
A New Paradigm of Textual Development for the Community Rule, STDJ 77 (Leiden: Brill, 2009).
For a recent assessment of how the texts from Qumran attest four “modes” of sectarian-
ism (pre-sectarian, nascent, full-blown, and rejuvenated sectarianism) see the contribu-
tion of the honouree of this volume George J. Brooke, “From Jesus to the Early Christian
Communities: Trajectories Towards Sectarianism in the Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in
The Dead Sea Scrolls and Contemporary Culture, ed. Adolfo Roitman, Lawrence Schiffman,
and Shani Tzoref, STDJ 93 (Leiden: Brill, 2011), 413–34.
8  Collins, Beyond the Qumran Community, 68.
Reflections on Literacy, Textuality, and Community 71

crisis.9 Schofield put forward a radial model to account for the spread of S MSS
at Qumran. In particular, she conceives of a provenance in Jerusalem for the
earliest stages of the Community Rule, a text that was eventually revised at
Qumran and in outlying related communities.10 For Schofield 1QS holds a spe-
cial place, and she observes, “It may be that 1QS was the authoritative text of
Qumran, the product of the activity of the hierarchical and exegetical center of
the movement.”11 Schofield further proposes that the Cave 4 manuscripts of the
Rule are depositories of the S tradition that originated in a number of com-
munities outside of Qumran. This results in a clear distinction between the
Qumran centre and peripheral communities. Schofield’s hypothesis is remi-
niscent of the “local texts” model championed to account for the plurality of
biblical texts attested at Qumran by Frank Moore Cross.12 According to this
theory the text of the Samaritan Pentateuch originated in Palestine, the proto-
MT goes back to Babylonia, and the proto-LXX is associated with Egypt. As with
Cross’s “local texts” hypothesis the model proposed by Collins and Schofield is
difficult to uphold in view of the presence of multiple text types (of what was to
become biblical and non-biblical material) all in one place, i.e. in the deposits
at and near Qumran.13 Rather than posit a crisis which provoked outlying com-
munities to bring their texts to Qumran, it is preferable, in my view, to account
for the pluriform textual picture without such an assumption. Just as recent
scholarship on the history of the biblical text has abandoned a geographical
explanation based on “local texts,”14 it is time to appreciate the geographically

9  Collins, Beyond the Qumran Community, 68–69; Alison Schofield, “Rereading S: A New
Model of Textual Development in Light of the Cave 4 Serekh Copies,” DSD 15 (2008): 96–
120, and Schofield, From Qumran to the Yaḥad.
10  Schofield, From Qumran to the Yaḥad.
11  From Qumran to the Yaḥad, 279.
12  Frank Moore Cross, “The Evolution of a Theory of Local Texts,” in Qumran and the History
of the Biblical Text, ed. Frank Moore Cross and Shemaryahu Talmon (Cambridge, MA:
Harvard University Press, 1975), 306–20.
13  See also Mladen Popović, “Qumran as Scroll Storehouse in Times of Crisis? A Comparative
Perspective on Judaean Desert Manuscript Collections,” JSJ 43 (2012): 551–94, 582.
14  See, e.g., George J. Brooke, “The Qumran Scrolls and the Demise of the Distinction be-
tween Higher and Lower Criticism,” in New Directions in Qumran Studies ed. Jonathan G.
Campbell, William J. Lyons, and Lloyd K. Pietersen, LSTS 52 (London: T&T Clark, 2005),
26–42 (reprinted in Reading the Dead Sea Scrolls: Essays in Method, SBLEJL 39 [Atlanta:
SBL Press, 2013], 1–18); Eugene Ulrich, The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Origins of the Bible,
Studies in the Dead Sea Scrolls and Related Literature (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999);
and Andrew Teeter, Scribal Laws: Exegetical Variation in the Textual Transmission of
72 Hempel

densely attested pluriform textual picture to have emerged from the vicinity of
Qumran both for the emerging Bible and the Rule texts.15
Schofield’s suggestion of the elevated standing of 1QS which she associ-
ates with the community hub at Qumran as opposed to copies that were
brought from outlying communities is also reminiscent of the theory of Saul
Lieberman who posited the presence of a master copy of the Torah deposited
in the Temple with more “popular” versions circulating elsewhere.16 In fact,
a model of thinking in terms of a centre and a periphery (akin to Schofield’s
“radial model”) has been pervasive in research on the history of the text of the
Hebrew Bible including in the work of Emanuel Tov, as has been critically re-
viewed by Andrew Teeter recently.17

Dynamic Living Traditions

The implicit sub-text of a conversation with research on the history and plu-
rifomity of the emerging biblical text holds the key to another explanation of
the evidence of the Rule manuscripts. As I have argued elsewhere, the textually
pluralistic picture attested for the Rule texts is part and parcel of the mind-
set that gave us a pluriform picture of other Second Temple literature, not
least of which the manuscripts of the emerging Bible from Qumran.18 Moving
even closer to the beating heart of textual authority we note complexity and
pluriformity already within the Hebrew Bible such as between Exodus and
Deuteronomy.19

Biblical Law in the Late Second Temple Period, FAT 92 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2014), 250
and 260, where he rightly stresses the significance of the presence of different “textual
models in a common environment (indisputable in the case of Qumran) . . .” (emphasis
his).
15  See Hempel, Qumran Rule Texts in Context, 271–99.
16  Saul Lieberman, “The Texts of Scripture in the Early Rabbinic Period,” in Hellenism in
Jewish Palestine: Studies in the Literary Transmission, Beliefs and Manners of Palestine in
the I Century BCE—IV Century CE (New York: Jewish Theological Seminary of America,
1962), 20–27. For a recent assessment of the theory noting also its speculative elements
see Teeter, Scribal Laws, 217–18.
17  See Emanuel Tov, Textual Criticism of the Hebrew Bible, 2nd ed. (Minneapolis: Fortress;
Assen: van Gorcum, 2001) and Teeter, Scribal Laws, 208–67.
18  Hempel, Qumran Rule Texts in Context, 271–99.
19  See, e.g., Reinhard G. Kratz, “Biblical Scholarship and Qumran Studies,” in T&T Clark
Companion to the Dead Sea Scrolls, ed. Brooke and Hempel, forthcoming.
Reflections on Literacy, Textuality, and Community 73

The big picture that emerges from the study of Jewish texts from the Second
Temple period is one of complexity and development both in the material that
was to become the Hebrew Bible and, I would argue, also the Rule texts.20 Both
of these findings came as a surprise to us—people immersed in a printing cul-
ture’s sense of the normativity of texts. It would seem as if at this particular
period in Judaism striving with the tradition was an endeavour that was com-
fortable with different versions of a text without “privileging” a particular ex-
emplar.21 Here Hindy Najman’s account of the vitality of scripture in ancient
Judaism where a hallmark of a text’s authoritativeness was the generating of
new texts is helpful.22 Along similar lines George Brooke has shown that it is
precisely the creative engagement with the tradition that conveys authority at
this period. It is worth reproducing his argument in his own words here,

All of this copying, revising, editing and rewriting indicates the author-
ity of the tradition in general [. . .], a kind of accrued authority, rather
than the authority of any particular form of text. Somehow it is the
process that is authoritative rather than the product. It is this view of
authority that must come to dominate any discussion of the processes
of transmission and which should contribute most to the discussion of
multiple editions of scriptural works.23

It would appear on the basis of the evidence in front of us that it was precisely
this level of “accrued authority” that also emerges from the pluriform witness-
es of the Community Rule tradition. To what extent the movement’s “life on
the ground” was hampered by such a complex textual picture of Rule texts is a
question to which we will turn below.

20  See also Brooke, “The Demise of the Distinction between Higher and Lower Criticism;”
Brooke, “What is a Variant Edition? Perspectives from the Qumran Scrolls,” in In the
Footsteps of Sherlock Holmes: Studies in the Biblical Text in Honour of Anneli Aejmelaeus, ed.
Kristin De Troyer, T. Michael Law, and Markus Liljström (Leuven: Peeters, 2014), 607–22;
and Reinhard G. Kratz, “Friend of God, Brother of Sarah, and Father of Isaac: Abraham in
the Hebrew Bible and in Qumran,” in The Dynamics of Language and Exegesis at Qumran,
ed. Devorah Dimant and Reinhard G. Kratz, FAT II.35 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009),
79–120.
21  The terminology of “privileging” goes back to Brooke, “What is a Variant Edition?” 617.
22  See Hindy Najman, “The Vitality of Scripture Within and Beyond the ‘Canon’,” JSJ 43
(2012): 497–518, 516. See also the contribution by Judith Newman in this volume.
23  Brooke, “What is a Variant Edition?” 620.
74 Hempel

The Turn from “Reality Literature”

The complexity of the S tradition which prevents us from jumping from text to
life and back again has been stressed by a number of recent studies. In particu-
lar, the idea of a straightforward connection of the Community Rule tradition
to life on the ground near Khirbet Qumran was seriously challenged by the
widely accepted re-dating of the communal occupation of the site. Unlike
the original chronology proposed by Roland de Vaux,24 a reassessment of the
archaeological evidence, especially the coins, suggests the site of Qumran
began to be used as a communal settlement no earlier than the beginning of
the first century BCE.25 Given 1QS, the well preserved early manuscript of the
Rule, was copied in 100–75 BCE and reflects a complex literary creation includ-
ing references to a well-established community, the account of communal life
given in the text can no longer be associated with incipient communal life at
the site.26 As a consequence recent scholarship is emphasizing the significance
of these manuscripts as complex literary artefacts.27
The question arises, then, what is the point of a huge amount of economic,
manual, and intellectual investment in the production of multiple MSS of the

24  Roland de Vaux, Archaeology and the Dead Sea Scrolls: The Schweich Lectures 1959 (Oxford:
Oxford University Press; The British Academy, 1973).
25  Jodi Magness, The Archaeology of Qumran and the Dead Sea Scrolls (Grand Rapids:
Eerdmans, 2002), esp. 47–72.
26  Torleif Elgvin, “The Yaḥad is More than Qumran,” in Enoch and Qumran Origins: New Light
on a Forgotten Connection, ed. Gabriele Boccaccini (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2005), 273–
79. See also, George J. Brooke, “Crisis Without, Crisis Within,” in Judaism and Crisis: Crisis
as a Catalyst in Jewish Cultural History, ed. Armin Lange, K.F. Diethard Römheld, and
Matthias Weigold (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2011), 89–107, 95, and Charlotte
Hempel, “The Long Text of the Serekh as Crisis Literature,” RevQ 27 (2015): 3–24.
27  See Maxine Grossman, Reading for History in the Damascus Document: A Methodological
Study, STDJ 45 (Leiden: Brill, 2002); Grossman, “Roland Barthes and the Teacher of
Righteousness: The Death of the Author of the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in Oxford Handbook of
the Dead Sea Scrolls, ed. Timothy Lim and John J. Collins (Oxford: Oxford University Press,
2010), 709–22; Moshe Bernstein, “4Q159: Nomenclature, Text, Exegesis, Genre,” in The
Mermaid and the Partridge: Essays from the Copenhagen Conference on Revising Texts from
Cave Four, ed. George J. Brooke and Jesper Høgenhaven, STDJ 96 (Leiden: Brill, 2012), 33–
55, 51; Steven Fraade, Legal Fictions: Studies of Law and Narrative in the Discursive Worlds
of Ancient Jewish Sectarians and Sages, JSJSup 147 (Leiden: Brill, 2011), 15; Reinhard Kratz,
“Der Penal Code und das Verhältnis von Serekh ha-Yachad (S) und Damaskusschrift (D),”
RevQ 25 (2011): 199–227; Sarianna Metso, “Methodological Problems in Reconstructing
History from Rule Texts Found at Qumran,” DSD 11 (2004): 315–35; Metso, “Problems in
Reconstructing the Organizational Chart of the Essenes,” DSD 16 (2009): 388–415; and
Hempel, Qumran Rule Texts in Context, 1–21.
Reflections on Literacy, Textuality, and Community 75

Community Rule only for them to be stored in the same complex of caves?
Here we need to temper our evidence base somewhat by acknowledging that
it is debatable whether 5Q11 (5QS) and all of the ten Cave 4 manuscripts are,
in fact, copies of the Community Rule.28 However, the evidence for Cave 4
manuscripts that cover material from the core constitutional columns paral-
lel to 1QS 5–9 is, nevertheless, noteworthy: 4Q256 (Sb); 4Q258 (Sd); 4Q259 (Se);
4Q261 (Sg); and 4Q263 (Si). We may thus ask, in terms coined by Stanley Fish:
what do the multiple Community Rule manuscripts “do” as opposed to what
do they “mean”?29 In what follows I hope to shed fresh perspectives on the in-
tense debate of the significance of the evidence of the Rule MSS from Qumran
by drawing on the work of a number of scholars who have shed light on the
social significance of texts in the Second Temple period.

The Social and Cultural Significance of Texts in the Second Temple

Period

Moshe Halbertal locates the emergence of text-centeredness and the rise of

the scholar to the Second Temple period.30 His insights shed light on the Dead
Sea Scrolls which offer evidence of a complex and fluid set of texts with which
a text-centered movement associated itself.
The concept of textual communities was developed by Brian Stock as a chal-
lenge to the dominant concept of literacy in the context of his research on
the 11th and 12th centuries CE. According to Stock textual communities attract

28  On 5Q11 see Philip S. Alexander, “Literacy Among Jews in Second Temple Palestine:
Reflections on the Evidence from Qumran,” in Hamlet on a Hill: Semitic and Greek Studies
Presented to Professor T. Muraoka on the Occasion of his Sixty-Fifth Birthday, ed. Martin
F. J. Baasten and Wido Th. van Peursen, OLA 118 (Leuven: Peeters, 2003), 3–24, 6; on the
possibility that 4Q262 (Sh) and 4Q264 (Sj) include excerpts from S rather than copies of the
Community Rule see Philip Alexander and Geza Vermes, DJD 26: 11–12, 190, 201. For recent
pertinent methodological reflections see also Jokiranta, “What is ‘Serekh ha-Yahad (S)’?”.
29  Stanley Fish, Is There a Text in This Class? The Authority of Interpretive Communities
(Cambridge, MA: Harward University Press, 1980), 25. The focus on what texts “do” is
also explored by Carol Newsom in the context of her analysis of the Hodayot, cf. Carol
Newsom, The Self as Symbolic Space: Constructing Identity and Community at Qumran,
STDJ 52 (Leiden: Brill, 2004), 191–286; see also Fraade, Legal Fictions, 4.
30  Moshe Halbertal, People of the Book: Canon, Meaning, and Authority (Cambridge, MA:
Harvard University Press, 1997), 10, though Halbertal credits Moshe Weinfeld with sug-
gesting this notion goes back even earlier to Josiah’s reform and intensified after the
destruction of the First Temple (149, n. 18). For engagement with the work of Halbertal see
also the contribution by Philip Alexander in this volume.
76 Hempel

“groups to study” texts even though not all members of such communities are nec-
essarily literate and some may rely on interpreters to access the texts.31 Elsewhere
he speaks of,

. . . “textual communities,” that is, . . . groups of people whose social activi-

ties are centred around texts, or, more precisely, around a literate inter-
preter of them. The text in question need not be written down nor the
majority of auditors actually literate.32

The symbolic significance of ancient literary compositions and the social

standing of those able to promulgate them in a largely oral culture comes into
play here.33 The evidence for the personal ownership of valuable literary texts
that were taken into refuge caves in the Judean Desert at a time when their
owners were facing destitution and death is a powerful indication of the cul-
tural and economic value attached to such possessions.34 Some owners of such
treasures may have been unable to access them in their written form.35 The fact
that the possession of prestigious literary works led people in fear of their lives
to carry these works ultimately to their deaths further indicates the immense
cultural significance of those involved in the production of such material.36
Popović has rightly stressed the “scholarly context” of the Qumran hold-
ings of mainly literary texts.37 I have argued that within that broader context
Cave 4—which lies at the heart of the pluriform picture for the Rule MSS—
reflects a particularly eclectic and learned repertoire that may have been

31  Brian Stock, The Implications of Literacy: Written Language and Models of Interpretation
in the Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1983), 522.
See also Popović, “Qumran as Scroll Storehouse in Times of Crisis?” 591.
32  Implications of Literacy, 522.
33  See Susan Niditch, Oral and Written Word: Ancient Israelite Literature (Louisville:
Westminster John Knox, 1986), 79–83, and Martin Jaffe, Torah in the Mouth: Writing and
Oral Tradition in Palestinian Judaism, 200 BCE–400 CE (Oxford: Oxford University Press,
2001).
34  See especially Popović, “Qumran as Scroll Storehouse in Times of Crisis?” 567–69, 574–
75, 593. See also Popović, “The Ancient ‘Library’ of Qumran between Urban and Rural
Culture,” in The Dead Sea Scrolls at Qumran and the Concept of a Library, ed. Sidnie White
Crawford and Cecilia Wassen, STDJ 116 (Leiden: Brill, 2015), 155–67.
35  Cf. Popović, “Ancient ‘Library’,” 164.
36  See also Chris Keith, Jesus’ Literacy: Scribal Culture and the Teacher from Galilee, LNTS
(London: T&T Clark, 2011), 87 (“Sometimes, then, the importance of a text derives from
the absence of a widespread readership rather than its presence”).
37  Popović, “Qumran as Scroll Storehouse in Times of Crisis?” 590, 592.
Reflections on Literacy, Textuality, and Community 77

intended for an elite among the movement.38 A consideration that has not re-
ceived sufficient attention to date is that the scholarly mind-set applies as much
to the production of literary texts, including the Rules, as it does to the collection
and ownership of such material.39 What Chris Keith describes as the “tremendous
amount of social esteem held by the relatively small slice of the population ca-
pable of reading and copying the Holy Scriptures”40 would have applied equally
to those drafting and copying the Rule MSS.
Apart from the inconsistencies between and within various manuscripts of
the Community Rule41 the literary phenomena we observe here are entirely
compatible with other literary traditions preserved at Qumran, including the
emerging Bible. Rather than trying to offer a utilitarian approach to the com-
plex literary evidence of the Rule MSS—it is more likely that their production
and complex transmission was powered by the same literary and scholarly mo-
tivations that drove the engagement with other texts.
The physicality of the Rule scrolls—mostly valuable leather scrolls—implies
a desire to promote the significance of this literature and the self-presentation
of those responsible for it.42 Moreover, Philip Alexander has drawn attention
to the fact that papyrus (cf. 4Q255 [Sa] and 4Q257 [Sc]) had to be imported
from Egypt and was by no means a cheap alternative to animal skin.43 It is
further important to remember that the Rule MSS were produced analogously

38  Hempel, Qumran Rule Texts in Context, 303–37.

39  See Michael O. Wise, Language and Literacy in Roman Judaea: A Study of the Bar Kokhba
Documents (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2015), 304 and especially Martin Goodman,
“Texts, Scribes, and Power in Roman Judaea,” in Literacy and Power in the Ancient World,
ed. Alan K. Bowman and Greg Woolf (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994),
99–108.
40  Keith, Jesus’ Literacy, 88. See also his observations on “craftman’s literacy,” ibid., 110.
41  For examples of manuscript internal inconsistencies see Hempel, Qumran Rule Texts in
Context, 28–31, 109–19.
42  Cf. Hayim Lapin, “Dead Sea Scrolls and the Historiography of Ancient Judaism,” in
Rediscovering the Dead Sea Scrolls: An Assessment of Old and New Approaches and Methods,
ed. Maxine Grossman (Grand Rapids MI: Eerdmans, 2010), 108–27, 118–19. See also Morton
Smith, Palestinian Parties and Politics that Shaped the Old Testament (London: SCM, 1987),
7 who observes “ . . . copying a text is a long, tedious job which is not done without some
strong motive. Therefore, of the texts produced by any one generation, only a few were
copied by the next, and the motives for copying those few were also the motives for edit-
ing or ‘correcting’ them.”
43  See Alexander, “Literacy Among Jews in Second Temple Palestine,” 7.
78 Hempel

and by the same people as scriptural scrolls with the scribe of 1QS also respon-
sible for 4QSamc and corrections in 1QIsaa.44
While it seems unlikely that the Rule texts were in any way applied as hand-
books—recipe book fashion45—this is not to question some kind of function
of the various MSS in the life of the movement.46 As far as the movement’s day
to day life was concerned, authority is said to rest very much with leading indi-
viduals at whose word (‫ )על פי‬affairs were managed (e.g. 1QS 5:2; 4Q256 [Sb] 9:3;
4Q258 [Sd] 1:2). Members were expected to contribute in deliberation verbally
in hierarchical order (e.g., 1QS 6:8b–13a where the root dbr predominates).47
What appear to be written documents feature occasionally such as sefer in
1QS 6:7 or written records of members and priests (1QS 5:23; 7:1, 21) and prop-
erty (1QS 6:20) but it is unlikely that any study sessions or written records were
conceived of as a “free for all.”48 The diverse regulations that make up 1QS
6:1c–8a—including accounts of various groups gathered for worship, table-
fellowship, and study—suggest the presence of those who are able to lead in
study, a group activity that would benefit also those who relied on what Keith
has called “authoritative text-brokers.”49 We note, furthermore, that accounts
of deliberation, examination of prospective members, expulsion, exercising
authority all presuppose a reliance on the personal authority of leaders and
members each in their rank.50 It is possible that the substantial Rule scrolls,

44  See Eibert Tigchelaar, “The Scribe of 1QS,” in Emanuel: Studies in Hebrew Bible, Septuagint,
and the Dead Sea Scrolls in Honor of Emanuel Tov, ed. Shalom Paul et al., VTSup 94 (Leiden:
Brill, 2003), 439–52, 439 for further examples and earlier literature.
45  For the analogy used with reference to pagan worship see Robin Lane Fox, “Literacy and
Power in Early Christianity,” in Literacy and Power, 126–48, 126.
46  On function as an important consideration for differences between texts see also Teeter,
Scribal Laws, 254–57 and 260.
47  On the elusive significance of orality for the production and transmission of biblical texts
see George J. Brooke, “Scripture and Scriptural Tradition in Transmission: Light from the
Dead Sea Scrolls,” in The Scrolls and Biblical Traditions: Proceedings of the Seventh Meeting
of the IOQS in Helsinki, ed. George J. Brooke et al., STDJ 103 (Leiden: Brill, 2012), 1–17, 6–7.
See also Shem Miller, “The Oral-Written Textuality of Stichographic Poetry in the Dead
Sea Scrolls” in DSD 22 (2015): 162–188.
48  An administrative application of written records is attested also in the Damascus
Document in the specific context of the overseer’s role of recording rebukes brought for-
ward by members. Something akin to such a record appears to have survived in 4Q477.
49  Keith, Jesus’ Literacy, 112.
50  Here I am in some agreement with Metso, “Methodological Problems.” See also Metso, “In
Search of the Sitz im Leben of the Community Rule,” in The Provo International Conference
on the Dead Sea Scrolls: Technological Innovations, New Texts, and Reformulated Issues, ed.
Donald W. Parry and Eugene Ulrich, STDJ 30 (Leiden: Brill, 1999), 306–15.
Reflections on Literacy, Textuality, and Community 79

especially 1QS, may have been used and cherished in what William Johnson,
in his work on Roman elite communities, has called “a display setting.”51
While not identified as a “deluxe edition” in its entirety by Emanuel Tov,52 the
dimensions of 1QS-1QSa-1QSb nevertheless send a powerful message.53 Wise
has recently proposed the suggestive contemporary analogy of owning a top
end luxury car.54

Nuancing Notions of a Socially Monolithic Scribal Movement

Johnson, like Stock, stresses the cultural value of elite texts and notes that they
were more often than not disseminated orally to those unable to access the
material immediately.55 While leading members of the movement must have
been intimately involved with the transmission and production of the literary
wealth to have reached us via Qumran, there is no reason to assume that oth-
ers, possibly the majority, relied on the former to mediate key messages. This is
not to say that for members unable to access the texts directly their association
with the literature was not a central aspect of their identity as members of a
“textual community” in the sense outlined by Stock.56
Related to this is the standing of the written word in a predominantly oral
culture. Thus, in the context of her work on Roman religion, Mary Beard chal-
lenges the utilitarian notion that writing chiefly serves communication that
cannot, for practical reasons, be delivered orally. Like Stock and Johnson, she
recognizes that the impact of a written religious tradition on the sense of

51  William A. Johnson, Readers and Reading Culture in the High Roman Empire: A Study
of Elite Communities, Classical Culture and Society (Oxford: Oxford University Press,
2010), 22.
52  Emanuel Tov, Scribal Practices and Approaches Reflected in the Texts Found in the Judean
Desert, STDJ 54 (Leiden: Brill, 2004), 125–29. Tov does, however, identify 1QSa as a pos-
sible deluxe edition based on its distinctive dimensions. Tov has argued, against prevail-
ing opinion, that 1QSa was not part of the same scroll as 1QS, Scribal Practices, 111 n. 149.
However, I was able to identify definitive photographic evidence showing that 1QSa was
indeed stitched to 1QS 11. For details see note 52 in Charlotte Hempel, “Wisdom and Law
in the Hebrew Bible and at Qumran,” forthcoming in JSJ 48 (2017).
53  See Alexander, “Literacy among Jews in Second Temple Palestine,” 17, where he describes
1QS as “an expensive manuscript, by far the biggest and most impressive of all our exem-
plars of the Serekh.”
54  Wise, Language and Literacy in Roman Judaea, 304.
55  Johnson, Readers and Reading Culture, 22 and Stock, Implications of Literacy, 522.
56  Stock, Implications of Literacy.
80 Hempel

identity of those attached to the literature is effective beyond those who are
able to access the material independently.57 Thus, she observes,

Even for those who were completely illiterate, the existence of a written
tradition—written representations of the religious “system,” its rules and
rituals—determined the nature of their religious experience and their
perception of religious power.58

Is it reasonable to assume, as we commonly do, that the gatekeepers of the

literature from Qumran did not also attract a substantial number of members
unable to read and write given literacy was limited to an elite in antiquity?59
Even if there was something of a spike in literary proficiency in the second cen-
tury BCE, as argued by Baumgarten, this is unlikely to have reached more than
an enlarged minority.60 After all, there would have been plenty to contribute
to the life of the movement in terms of agricultural production, food prepara-
tion, building and maintaining facilities, tending animals, manufacturing pot-
tery, and preparing animal skins for scroll production. Just as people of limited
literacy gained considerable social capital from the ownership of prestigious
literary texts as mentioned above, so others would have achieved a similarly
elevated standing by virtue of their proximity and affiliation with a scribal elite
anywhere; and Khirbet Qumran is unlikely to have been different. In other
words, it is time to challenge the notion that the doubtlessly dominant scribal
elite responsible for the literary outputs were not also accompanied and sup-
ported by a second tier of illiterate or semi-literate members to form a “textual
community.” I offered a comparable challenge of the assumption that “mak-
ing dinner” was the responsibility of established members who would serve
the newly admitted once the latter were granted access to “the purity.”61 One
can only imagine the symbolic significance for a member of limited literacy of

57  Mary Beard, “Writing and Religion: Ancient Literacy and the Function of the Written
Word in Roman Religion,” in Literacy in the Roman World, ed. Mary Beard, JRASup 3 (Ann
Arbor, MI: Journal of Roman Archaeology, 1991), 35–58, 38–39, 58.
58  Beard, “Writing and Religion,” 58.
59  Albert Baumgarten acknowledges as much before pulling back, rather, when he notes,
“. . . literacy need not have been an absolute requirement for membership; nevertheless, it
would certainly have been useful, and at Qumran it was more or less assumed.” Albert I.
Baumgarten, The Flourishing of Jewish Sects in the Maccabean Era: An Interpretation,
JSJSup 55 (Leiden: Brill, 1997), 48.
60  Baumgarten, The Flourishing of Jewish Sects, 114–36.
61  Charlotte Hempel, “Who is Making Dinner at Qumran,” JTS 63 (2012): 49–65.
Reflections on Literacy, Textuality, and Community 81

having their name registered in the membership—and equally the unsettling

experience of appearing in the overseer’s record of offenders. Note in this con-
text Beard’s observation that private religious inscriptions found in pagan con-
texts invariably focus on the name of the worshippers. As she puts it, “Presence
is fully defined only by naming.”62
These observations sit well with the fundamentally hierarchical vision of
the community as outlined in the Rule texts—new members, or those recently
re-admitted after temporary exclusion, sit in rank order (cf., e.g., 1QS 5:23–24;
6:2b, 4, 8–10, 22, 26; 8:19; 9:2). Alongside what we may call a peer hierarchy is
another layer of often priestly leadership. It seems inevitable that the top-tier
scribal and intellectual elite did not start out in the back row. We have to be
aware that the training to become a top level scholar was inter-generational
and required years of study. It is hardly conceivable that anyone would be
able to join the movement and work their way up along the lines of “living the
Qumran dream” from washing dishes to millionaire.
It is in 1QS 6:2 // 4Q258 (Sd) 2:7 // 4Q263 (Si) 3 where we might have a ref-
erence to work and duties to be performed in a communal context: “Those
of inferior rank shall obey (their) superiors in matters of work and money.”63
This particular passage has been much debated since it lays down rules to be
adhered to in “all their dwelling places.” Whether or not this passage envisions
life at Qumran—an issue I have dealt with at some length elsewhere64—the
key point for our present purposes is the reference to duties that were largely
unremarked upon in daily life. The largest number of references to ‫ מלאכה‬in
the sense of “work” occur in material dealing with prohibited work during the
festivals and the Sabbath which also implies work being carried out on other
days.
Granted that the popular vision of a community of elite scribes sustained
by their faith and erudition alone is illusory, we need to allow for a less mono-
lithic social and cultural environment in the “textual community” responsible
for the literary riches unearthed at and near Qumran. As Michael Wise has
recently noted, “Hebrew literacy also served to fashion and sustain elites, as
literacy did elsewhere in the Greco-Roman world.”65

62  Beard, “Writing and Religion,” 46 (emphasis in original).

63  4Q258 2:7 and 4Q263 3 read (‫ )ה]ון‬whereas 1QS 6:2 has ‫לממון‬.
64  See Hempel, Qumran Rule Texts in Context, 79–105, and further bibliography cited there.
65  Wise, Language and Literacy in Roman Judaea, 303, see also 309–10.
82 Hempel

Conclusion

We began by challenging the long-established sense of the textual particular-

ism represented by the Community Rule tradition. Instead we stressed the
need to acknowledge the social and cultural continuum of textuality across
different kinds of literature attested at Qumran. As so much else that survives
from this exciting period in Jewish history, the Qumran Rule texts are complex
scribal artefacts produced by literary elites in the Second Temple period. They
share a plurality of texts preserved alongside each other as hallmarks of a dy-
namic literary tradition.
Having stressed the common milieu of cultural production shared by the
Rule texts and other Second Temple literature,66 we ended with a reconsidera-
tion of the social make-up of the movement responsible for the production,
transmission, and collection of the Qumran Scrolls. While affirming the de-
terminative leadership of a stratum of elite scholars and scribes, we noted the
inevitable though largely unrecognized presence of a significant proportion of
the membership who were illiterate or semi-literate while nevertheless identi-
fying themselves as part of the same textual community.

66  Pierre Bourdieu, The Field of Cultural Production: Essays on Art and Literature (Cambridge:
Polity, 1993). I am grateful to my Birmingham colleague Katherine Brown for intro­ducing
me to the work of Bourdieu. On the symbolic value of sacred texts in late Second Temple
Judaism see also Tom Thatcher, “Literacy, Textual Communities, and Josephus’ Jewish
War,” JSJ 29 (1998): 123–42, esp. 128, and the contribution to this volume by Hanne von
Weissenberg and Elisa Uusimäki.
Scribal Bodies as Liturgical Bodies: The Formation
of Scriptures in Early Judaism

Judith H. Newman

Since the heyday of modern biblical criticism in the nineteenth century, the
study of the formation of the Bible has been dominated by questions of origins
and closure: What are the earliest layers of the Bible?1 When and under what
circumstances did the Bible arrive at its final form? The dominant methodolog-
ical tools in the quest have been historical and philological ones, using close
comparison of textual deviation in manuscripts, with an analysis of language
and literary forms as a starting point. Scholarship on the formation of the Bible
has for the most part tread the same paths and asked the same questions. The
two scholarly trends that concern the formation of the Bible, might be called
the teleological approach and the canonical approach. They are still in full
evidence in the twenty-first century. David Carr’s two learned volumes provide
the most exhaustive treatment of the teleological approach.2 This work has

1  This essay is a revised form of my keynote address for the British Association of Jewish Studies
Annual Meeting in 2016 when Prof. Charlotte Hempel was President. The brilliant theme of
the BAJS meeting was “The Texture of the Jewish Tradition” in honor of George Brooke. I am
delighted to contribute a revised version of my lecture for this Festschrift for George who
has taught me so much about the Dead Sea Scrolls and whose work continues to inspire my
engagement as will be clearly evident here. On the anachronistic classification scheme of
the Dead Sea Scrolls, see George Brooke, “Canonisation Processes of the Jewish Bible in the
Light of the Qumran Scrolls,” in “For it is Written”: Essays on the Function of Scripture in Early
Judaism and Christianity, ed. Jan Dochhorn, ECCA 12 (Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang, 2011),
13–35, 14.
2  David Carr’s two learned volumes provide the most exhaustive treatment. He approaches
the Hebrew Bible like an archaeological tell, beginning with the presumed most recent “stra-
tum” of scripture and excavating to earlier layers to discover origins. David M. Carr, Writings
on the Tablet of the Heart: Origins of Scripture and Literature (New York: Oxford University
Press, 2005) and The Formation of the Hebrew Bible: A New Reconstruction (New York: Oxford
University Press, 2011). Most of this recent work on the formation of the Hebrew Bible em-
phasizes the role of scribes. On the role of a scribal elite attached to the palace in the pre-
exilic period, see William Schniedewind, How the Bible Became a Book: The Textualization
of Ancient Israel (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005). Karel van der Toorn has
emphasized the temple as site of scribal activity in his Scribal Culture and the Making of the
Hebrew Bible (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2007). There is now a large bibliog-
raphy on canon formation and related issues in both Judaism and Christianity. Lee Martin

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ���7 | doi ��.��63/9789004344532_006

84 Newman

used the medieval Masoretic Text as a benchmark by which to construct a liter-

ary history of the Bible’s development. David Brakke has called attention to the
teleological problem in scholarship on the formation of the New Testament
canon. As he puts it: “historians continue to tell a story with a single plot line,
leading to the seemingly inevitable telos (in Greek) of the closed canon of the
New Testament.”3 Another body of scholarship has treated the formation of
the canon including the broader terrain beyond the archaeological “tell” of the
Hebrew Bible. Timothy Lim has made the most recent contribution to the dis-
cussion.4 Helpful as his work is in providing an account beyond the MT, Lim’s
account retains a teleological bent even if he does not use the term canon itself
with reference to the Greco-Roman period.
More than sixty years since their remarkable discovery, however, we can say
that the roughly nine hundred manuscripts comprising the Dead Sea Scrolls
have newly obscured the path toward the creation of the Bible. The role of
scribes and their handiwork on manuscripts has in particular been the focus
of much recent scholarly attention.5 The textual finds from the caves near
Qumran raise questions not simply about the formation of the Bible, but also
about the nature of Jewish texts and textual practices more broadly during
the Greco-Roman era. In this essay, I want to highlight what I see as the main
implications of the Qumran texts for our understanding of the formation of

McDonald offers a sound up-to-date annotated overview in “Canon” Biblical Studies, Oxford
Bibliographies Online (http://www.oxfordbibliographies.com.myaccess.library.utoronto.ca/
view/document/obo-9780195393361/obo-9780195393361-0017.xml).
3  David Brakke, “Scriptural Practices in Early Christianity: Towards a New History of the
New Testament Canon,” in Invention, Rewriting, Usurpation: Discursive Fights over Religious
Traditions in Antiquity, ed. Jörg Ulrich, Anders-Christian Jacobsen, and David Brakke, ECCA 11
(Berlin: Peter Lang, 2012), 263–80, 265. See, too, Philip Davies’s similar observation in shorter
scope about the Hebrew Bible in the Prolegomenon to “Loose Canons, Reflections on the
Formation of the Hebrew Bible,” Journal of Hebrew Scriptures 2006 (http://www.jhsonline.
org/cocoon/JHS/a005.html).
4  Lim uses the term “canon” in the sense of a listing or collection of books, rather than, for in-
stance, their particular order or shape within a closed canon, such as emphasized by Brevard
Childs. While Lim takes Qumran into account and recognizes that multiple scriptural collec-
tions were circulating in the Second Temple period, he assumes that by the first century CE,
a “majority canon” of the Pharisees, in all respects identical to the rabbinic numeration of
twenty-four books, had become dominant. See Timothy H. Lim, The Formation of the Jewish
Canon, AYBRL (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2013).
5  Emanuel Tov’s work based on his role as chief editor of the Scrolls serves as the benchmark:
Scribal Practices and Approaches Reflected in the Texts Found in the Judean Desert, STDJ 54
(Leiden: Brill, 2004).
Scribal Bodies as Liturgical Bodies 85

scriptures in the Greco-Roman period. On that basis, I pose a different set

of questions that have to do not with the scribal hand, but the scribal body
and its pious practices in order to shed new light not so much on the forma-
tion of the Bible in the late Second Temple period, but on the formation of
scripture as text considered divinely revelatory. I support my argument with
two brief case studies of scribal prayer in relation to the formation of texts in
early Judaism.

The Implications of the Dead Sea Scrolls for the Study of the Bible

Three scholarly findings stemming from study of the Qumran manuscripts

require a change in the story of scripture formation as well as prompt new
questions of the manuscript evidence. The Scrolls are normally grouped in
three categories: scriptural texts, sectarian texts, and non-scriptural texts that
are not sectarian. As many have pointed out, this categorization is itself prob-
lematic because it anachronistically projects canonical assumptions onto the
late Second Temple era, a period well before the Bible had come into being.
The problematic categorization is made clearer by assessing some of the chief
findings.

The Fluid Shape and Content of Scriptures

The first has to do with the pluriform nature of texts. Pluriformity extends both
to the shape of texts and their content. Although there seems to be some sta-
bilization in scriptural texts by the end of the first century CE, there is not
a premium placed on fixed or final wording. This is true equally for the so-
called scriptural texts as it is for sectarian and other works. The case of the
pluriform Hebrew texts of Jeremiah found at Qumran is well known with some
manuscripts resembling the later MT, some the LXX and some not aligned
with either. Pluriformity is reflected in the varied collections of Psalms es-
pecially in the ordering of the poems.6 But such pluriformity relates also to

6  See now David Willgren, The Formation of the “Book” of Psalms: Reconsidering the Transmission
and Canonization of the Psalms in Light of Material Culture and Poetics of Anthologies, FAT
2.88 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2016) and Eva Mroczek, The Literary Imagination in Jewish
Antiquity (New York: Oxford University Press, 2016), 19–85.
86 Newman

the Pentateuch, typically considered the oldest part of the Bible.7 The Dead
Sea Scrolls also make clear that a version of the Torah circulated in the late
Second Temple period which contained many of the variants known from
the Samaritan Pentateuch.8 Moreover, the manuscripts of the so-called 4Q
Reworked Pentateuch also display similar readings to this “Samaritan” version.9

The Generative Role of Scriptural Interpretation

The second has to do with the diversity of Judaism during the late Second
Temple period with respect to the way in which scripture was interpreted. We
have long known about the ideological and geographical diversity (Pharisees,
Sadducees, Essenes, Samaritans) which seems to have accelerated with the rise
of the Hasmoneans. The textual findings of Qumran make clear that diversity
arose and identities were shaped through distinctive interpretations of shared
sacred texts. George Brooke has discussed this phenomenon from different
angles. In recent work on what he terms “canonisation processes,” Brooke
has illuminated this in relation to halakhic debates as reflected in MMT. “The
appeal to collections of scriptures as the basis of halakhic authority is not
an appeal to the text in itself, certainly not an appeal to the plain sense alone,

7  For the Pentateuch, discussion has largely focused on the “Rewritten Scripture” debate; see
Molly Zahn Rethinking Rewritten Scripture: Composition and Exegesis in the 4QReworked
Pentateuch Manuscripts, STDJ 95 (Leiden: Brill, 2011); Sidnie White Crawford, Rewriting
Scripture in Second Temple Times SDSSRL (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008); Moshe Bernstein,
“ ‘Rewritten Bible:’ A Generic Category Which Has Outlived its Usefulness?” Textus 22 (2005):
169–96; Hindy Najman, Seconding Sinai: The Development of Mosaic Discourse in Second
Temple Judaism, JSJSup 77 (Leiden: Brill, 2003); Emanuel Tov, “The Significance of the Texts
from the Judean Desert for the History of the Text of the Hebrew Bible: A New Synthesis,”
in Qumran between the Old and New Testaments, ed. Frederick H. Cryer and Thomas L.
Thompson, JSOTSup 290 (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 1998), 277–309; George J. Brooke,
“The Rewritten Law, Prophets and Psalms: Issues for Understanding the Text of the Bible,” in
The Bible as Book: The Hebrew Bible and the Judaean Desert Discoveries, ed. Edward D. Herbert
and Emanuel Tov (London: The British Library and Oak Knoll Press, 2002), 31–40.
8  George J. Brooke, “The Qumran Scrolls and the Demise of the Distinction between Higher
and Lower Criticism,” in Reading the Dead Sea Scrolls: Essays in Method, SBLEJL 39 (Atlanta:
SBL Press, 2013), 1–18, 10.
9  For an assessment of the relevance of the Qumran materials to the development of the
Samaritan Pentateuch, see Magnar Kartveit, The Origin of the Samaritans, VTSup 128 (Leiden,
Brill, 2009), 259–311. Cf. also, Eugene Ulrich, The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Origins of the Bible
(Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1999).
Scribal Bodies as Liturgical Bodies 87

but an appeal to the text rightly interpreted.”10 This includes a growing appeal
to interpretive traditions which might be invoked by particular communities.
Another well-known example is the distinct way in which Isa 40:3, “Prepare
the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God,” is cited
in the Yaḥad’s Community Rule. There the “way of the Lord” is understood to
be the community’s study of the Torah and the revelation of the prophets. It
appears in the synoptic Gospels with a very different interpretation relating
to John the Baptist’s preparation for the coming of Jesus. These examples of
specific and rival traditions of interpretation of scriptures could be multiplied
many times over. It is even more common to see implicit interpretation rather
than explicit citation used in such reclamations. In conceiving the relation-
ship of communities to ongoing scriptural interpretive traditions, it is help-
ful to consider the cogent definition of “living tradition” offered by Alasdair
Macintyre as “a historically extended, socially embodied argument, and an
argument precisely in part about the goods which constitute the tradition.”11
Tradition is not a form of stagnation, but a means of continuing renewal in the
present, while rooted in the past.

The Formative Role of Prayer in Shaping Identity

The third factor relevant to scripture formation has received little attention.
It concerns the character of worship in the late Second Temple period and its
relation to scripture.12 Roughly one-fifth of the texts from Qumran are hymns,

10  Brooke, “Canonisation Processes,” 13–35, 24. See as well his insightful discussion of constit-
uent aspects of tradition, that is the ways in which the past bears on the present, in “The
Formation and Renewal of Scriptural Tradition,” in Biblical Traditions in Transmission:
Essays in Honour of Michael A. Knibb, ed. Charlotte Hempel and Judith M. Lieu, JSJSup 111
(Leiden: Brill, 2006), 39–59.
11  Alasdair Macintyre, After Virtue: A Study in Moral Theory (Notre Dame: University of
Notre Dame Press, 1981), 222.
12  At first blush, this liturgical turn may not seem new at all. The association of scripture and
worship or liturgical settings has a long pedigree. One common assumption has been that
the loss of the Temple during the Babylonian Exile prompted a shift towards the textual-
ization of the religion including the beginning of the substitution of temple sacrifice with
prayer. However, these other attempts have assumed the priority of scripture as some-
thing separate from prayer and used in worship settings. Johannes Leipoldt and Siegfried
Morenz concluded more generally that the common context for scriptural texts through-
out the ancient near east was their use in liturgy (Heilige Schriften: Betrachtungen zur
Religionsgeschichte der antike Mittelmeerwelt [Leipzig: O. Harrassowitz, 1953]). In terms
88 Newman

prayers, blessings, psalms, and liturgical texts. This plethora of liturgical ma-
terial includes multiple collections of psalm texts, including most famously
11Q5 with its compositions not found in the MT psalter. The collection also in-
cludes the earliest evidence for daily prayer offered on a weekly basis, 4Q504–
506 which dates to the second century BCE. In sum, only a small amount of
this prayer material is clearly sectarian. This evidence, coupled with the in-
creasingly widespread appearance of inserted prayers and mention of pray-
ing in Second Temple literature more broadly points to a prominent feature
of worship in Jewish life in the Greco-Roman period. The practice of prayer
is thus a dominant feature of life along with other customary practices in the
late Second Temple period.13 I have written about the “scripturalization of

of Jewish scripture, Henry St. John Thackeray argued even earlier that the Septuagint
arose in connection with the celebration of Jewish festivals (The Septuagint and Jewish
Worship: A Study in Origins [London: H. Milford/British Academy, 1923]). John Barton has
suggested that the third section of the Tanakh, “the Writings,” developed in contrast to
that which was read in the liturgy (Oracles of God: Perceptions of Ancient Prophecy in Israel
after the Exile [Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1986], 75–82). More recently, consider
David Carr who seems to have followed Barton in this, Formation, 162–63. Cf. also Konrad
Schmid, “The Canon and the Cult: The Emergence of Book Religion in Ancient Israel and
the Gradual Sublimation of the Temple Cult,” JBL 131 (2012): 289–305. While some degree
of substitution for the Temple is surely observable, I find his contrast between cult (the
Temple sacrificial system) and canon (Judaism as a “book religion”) somewhat too starkly
imagined without considering the ongoing ritual elements of Jewish observance. An ex-
ception that proves the rule is Gerhard von Rad who posited that the earliest piece of
scripture was Deut 26:5–10, the “kleine geschichtliche Credo” which arose in the context
of the celebration of the Feast of Weeks and gave shape to the Hexateuch. As his work
predates the discovery of Qumran, he only dealt with the canonical Hebrew Bible. His
influential essay was translated and published in The Problem of the Hexateuch and Other
Essays (Edinburgh: Oliver and Boyd, 1966).
13  The earliest tefillin were also found at Qumran, a witness to the practice of wrapping
the words of the Torah on the body for prayer (see Tov’s contribution on tefillin in this
volume). We have the first example of communal daily prayer throughout the course of a
week in the collection Dibrei Hammeʾorot (4Q504–506). It is well known that the Qumran
Yaḥad movement considered its worship as a substitute for the Temple. Early Jewish litur-
gy, as Stefan Reif has pointed out, must be understood as broader than simply the Temple
and its sacrificial system. It includes, in his words, the “whole gamut of worship in and
around the study of sacred texts, the acts of eating and fasting, and of course, benedic-
tions, prayers and amulets . . . Liturgy was expressed in many ways within Jewish society
as a whole” (Stefan C. Reif, “Prayer in Early Judaism,” Prayer from Tobit to Qumran, ed.
Renate Egger-Wenzel and Jeremy Corley, DCL 1 [Berlin: de Gruyter, 2004], 439–64, 442).
Reif assumes that the maʿamad, and the shemaʿ are among examples of a more broadly
based liturgical expression.
Scribal Bodies as Liturgical Bodies 89

prayer” and the way in which scriptural tradition was interpreted in prayers.14
Scripture-as-interpreted is prayed, that is, it is offered up to God like an incense
offering in the Temple. This phenomenon which started tentatively in the post-
exilic period eventually became a convention that needed no justification in
the liturgical worship of Judaism and Christianity. Yet, the social context for
this broad-based phenomenon in the Greco-Roman period has not yet been
mapped fully.
Again in this regard, George Brooke marks a salutary shift in his scholar-
ship. In a recent article he identifies three settings that can account for the
means by which scripture gradually acquires authoritative status. He refers to
these as “canonization processes” in the sense that it is clear that the forma-
tion of the canon was, in his words, “a matter of process, not moment.” The full
extent of that process was some four centuries or more from the late Second
Temple period onward.15 He identifies polemical settings in which one group
interprets scripture for its own purposes of shaping identity. An example is
the Qumran Yaḥad with its more open-ended canon in contradistinction to the
Hasmoneans. A second setting is an educational one. Both the establishment
of collections of texts as the basis of a curriculum and the dynamics of teach-
ing would influence the shape of the emerging canon. A third setting is that
of worship and he has called for “further investigation of how liturgical texts
contribute symbiotically to canonical processes.”16 This essay is part of a re-
sponse to his call.17 Brooke makes a convincing case for the role of these set-
tings in the process by which scriptures come to have increasing influence and
authority. I hope to demonstrate that these settings are, in fact, not distinct but
intertwined.

Asking New Questions

These three factors resulting from the analysis of the Dead Sea Scrolls are,
then: the pluriform nature of the textual evidence, the formation of diverse

14  Newman, Praying by the Book: The Scripturalization of Prayer in Second Temple Judaism,
SBLEJL 14 (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1999). Cf. also the larger collection including the essay
of Esther Chazon, “Scripture and Prayer in ‘The Words of the Luminaries’,” in Prayers that
Cite Scripture, ed. James L. Kugel (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2006).
15  Brooke, “Canonisation Processes,” 18.
16  Brooke, “Canonisation Processes,” 33.
17  My longer exploration of the relationship of prayer practices to scripture formation will
be published as Before the Bible: The Liturgical Body and the Formation of Scripture in Early
Judaism (New York: Oxford University Press).
90 Newman

Jewish communities as bolstered by distinctive textual interpretation, and the

increase in individual and communal prayer practices in the Greco-Roman pe-
riod, all need to inform our investigation of the formation of scripture.
My main point of difference with recent scholarship on the formation of the
Bible in early Judaism relates both to orientation and method. I thus ask not
about what causes the closure of a canon, but what conditions give rise to the
growth and extension of textual traditions. I also ask the additional question
about what gives rise to scripture, that is, the notion of sacred or revelatory text
that undergirds contemporary notions of Bible or Talmud. Scripture is text,
needless say, that is understood as divine in origin; however it may be medi-
ated by the human community that transmits and preserves it.
Rather than focusing simply on the scribal hand at work on written texts, I
am concerned with the scribal body, or rather, what I call the liturgical body. In
short, my argument shifts the debate away from both origins of scripture and
closure of the canon. I place political contexts and authority for understanding
the development of scripture in the background in order to highlight the role
of embodiment, formation, and ethos. In this, I use not only literary tools, but
draw from a range of studies in the social and physical sciences that focus on
the formation of the self. While traditional philological and literary methods
of textual analysis have an essential role to play in understanding the develop-
ment of scripture, I shift the focus towards the uses and diachronic function of
texts in their specific social contexts as mediated by the liturgical body.
I will illustrate this different approach by presenting snapshots of two
scribes and their practices: the daily prayer of Ben Sira and the confessional
prayer of Daniel with a cameo appearance by Jeremiah’s scribe Baruch. The
reason for this choice is that there is somewhat more information about
the circumstances of the compositions associated with them. I want to show
how prayer practices are enmeshed with texts, and in particular reveal how
texts which aim to shape individuals and communities are deemed sacred and
revelatory. Ben Sira and Daniel are two distinct kinds of sages in the Second
Temple period with respect to the way in which they are understood to medi-
ate the revelatory.

The Scribal Body of Ben Sira Shaped by Prayer and Pedagogy

I begin with the book of Ben Sira, also known as Sirach or Ecclesiasticus. The
work is considered unique among wisdom texts in Jewish antiquity for its con-
nection to a named author found in not one but two colophons. Yet it is any-
thing but straightforward from a textual perspective. Ben Sira provides the only
Scribal Bodies as Liturgical Bodies 91

description from the Greco-Roman period of a professional Jewish scribe. The

sage appears in a long passage that contrasts the activities of manual laborers
with the elevated role of the scribe (Sir 38:24–39:11). The first part mentions
his corpus of study: the law, wisdom of the ancients, histories and famous say-
ings, prophecies and parables, proverbs and riddles. He learns through experi-
ence as well. The sage serves among high-ranking officials and travels abroad
to learn about other cultures as part of his profession.
Most commentators have assumed that the passage describes not just an
exemplary scribe and his activities, but is a description of the author Ben Sira
himself. While I would not collapse the authorial voice with a historical Ben
Sira of Jerusalem too neatly, I assume the learned person who wrote this pas-
sage, lived it. This description represents the activities of a typical scribe of an
elevated social status, a member of the retainer class in service to elites. In
the case of a scribe in Jerusalem, this would mean an elite comprising mainly
priests.18

The Daily Habit of Scribal Prayer

In the middle of the passage we learn something of the scribe’s transformative

daily habit, namely, prayer. “He sets his heart to rise early to seek the Lord who
made him, and he petitions in the presence of the Most High; he will open his
mouth in prayer and entreat concerning his sins” (Sir 39:5–6).19
As a result, the passage continues:

If the great Lord wishes, he will be filled with a spirit of understanding;

he will pour forth his words of wisdom and give thanks to the Lord in
prayer. He will direct counsel and knowledge, and meditate on his hidden
things. He will show forth the instruction of his training, and in the law of
the Lord’s covenant he will boast. (Sir 39:6–8)

As this passage makes clear, the text depicts prayer as a spur to divine
inspiration. Like the Ur-sage King Solomon himself, if the deity desires it, he

18  For a fuller discussion, see Richard A. Horsley and Patrick Tiller, “Ben Sira and the
Sociology of the Second Temple,” in Second Temple Studies III: Studies in Politics, Class
and Material Culture, ed. Philip R. Davies and John M. Halligan, JSOTSup 340 (Sheffield:
Sheffield Academic, 2002), 74–107.
19  In this chapter, I generally follow the NRSV translation except where noted because of
textual complications.
92 Newman

will receive a spirit of understanding, and as in the Wisdom of Solomon, an-

other Greco-Roman wisdom book, prayer is understood as the key to acquiring
it (cf. 1 Kgs 3; Wis 7:7). As a result, Ben Sira is said to “pour forth” wisdom, which
he acknowledges with thanksgiving and praise. This singular account of the
sage’s daily activity thus discloses what James Crenshaw has observed about
the book as a whole: “Ben Sira places prayer and praise at the very center of the
intellectual endeavor.”20 The gift of inspiration is understood to amplify his
own wisdom, enabling his teaching and underscoring the divine role at work
in his efforts. Divine revelation, here described in terms of wisdom, is thus un-
derstood to be mediated by the person of the scribe.
Although petition, confession, and praise are mentioned not only in Sir
39:5–8 but figure amply elsewhere, along with another well-known passage
describing prophetic-like inspiration (Sir 24:31–33), little sustained attention
has been paid to the role of worship in relation to the scribe’s activities and the
formation of the book.21

What Does Prayer Do?

A skeptical modern reader may well ask at this point: how can prayer actually
be understood to do anything? What does this account of Ben Sira’s inspiration
really mean? I should clarify that my purpose is not to evaluate the ontological
reality of a presumed divine response but rather to probe the effects of prayer
on the one who offers it. These questions can be answered by assessing this
account of the scribe’s prayer from the perspective of “lived religion,” as part
of a matrix of cultural practices.22

20  James L. Crenshaw, “The Restraint of Reason, the Humility of Prayer,” in The Echoes
of Many Texts: Reflections on Jewish and Christian Traditions. Essays in Honor of Lou H.
Silberman, ed. William G. Dever and J. Edward Wright, BJS 313 (Atlanta: Scholars Press,
1997), 81–97, 93.
21  For a review of scholarship on prayer in Sirach, see Werner Urbanz, Gebet im Sirachbuch:
Zur Terminologie von Klage und Lob in der griechischen Texttradition, HBS 60 (Freiburg:
Herder, 2009), 4–19.
22  The concept of “lived religion” derives from the work of Robert Orsi, David Hall, and oth-
ers. It focuses on the practice of religion among individuals and communities within
specific social contexts, rather than the more essentializing study of normative religious
beliefs and practices. See the introductory essays in the collection of David D. Hall, ed.,
Lived Religion in America: Toward a History of Practice (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University
Press, 1997).
Scribal Bodies as Liturgical Bodies 93

I would argue that there are two answers to the questions concerning the
efficacy of prayer practices. First, prayer shapes the sage. As a daily practice, it
is a means of self-formation. Second, the prayer also functions rhetorically in
the context of the book by becoming part of the wisdom teaching embedded
in the collection. The book describes the sage praying, includes instruction on
prayer, and contains actual prayers, hymns, and other liturgical material. These
two aspects, of prayer and teaching, are interrelated. I will discuss teaching
at greater length below. The point to be made is that understanding the re-
lationship of the person of the sage to the textual product is thus more than
conceiving simply of a hand holding a pen and inscribing a papyrus or leather
scroll. The formation of written text is intertwined with the formation of the
scribal self and the social setting in which he is embedded, not to mention
the inheritors of this traditional teaching. It is not possible to isolate stages
in the making of the book of Sirach definitively, much less a single Hebrew
“original text”; rather, we are dealing with a diachronic process. We will start
with the formation of the scribal self as a pedagogical figure and then address
issues related to the formation of the book of Sirach.
First, prayer shapes the sage, the one who does it. As a daily practice, it is
a means of self formation. The way in which prayer is portrayed as a transfor-
mative activity can be illuminated by Patrick McNamara’s recent book, The
Neuroscience of Religious Experience. In it he described a decentering process
that occurs through individual or communal practices that engage religious
narratives and ideals. Decentering is the neurological, cognitive means of
achieving an integrated Self. The process involves a loss of agency as the prac-
titioner imagines and aligns himself with a conceived deity or transcendent
reality. This moves her toward an “ideal” or reintegrated self.23 In Ben Sira, this
kind of reorientation towards “the Most High” happens through his release of
sins to God who is conceived elsewhere in the book much like a transcendent
Divine Pedagogue. The scribal Self is strengthened by this daily practice, which
in turn enables the sage to “receive wisdom” and to teach.
Second, the prayer also functions rhetorically in the context of the book in
that it becomes part of the wisdom teaching embedded in the collection. The
sage serves as the model for his students. Petition, confession, and praise are
mentioned not only in Sir 39:5–8 but figure amply elsewhere, along with pas-
sages describing prophetic-like inspiration. Prayer appears throughout the col-
lection. Instruction on prayer is knit into the structure of the book in subunits,

23  Patrick McNamara, The Neuroscience of Religious Experience (New York: Cambridge
University Press, 2009), 153–54.
94 Newman

thus providing a strong linkage between prayer and wisdom instruction.24

That is to say, passages of proverbial instruction are frequently clustered to-
gether by theme, and then followed by mention of prayer (Sir 14:20–15:10;10
32:1–13; 36:23–37:15).25 Prayer is also present in the book through allusions to
traditional liturgical formulas such as the use of elements from the Shema in
Sir 7:29–31.26
I would argue that the practice of daily prayer is thus the indispensable
starting point in understanding the formation of the scribal self in Sirach, the
teaching, and the textual deposit that results from that activity. If the depiction
of the sage in Sirach can be understood to represent the activities of learned
Jewish scribes more generally in the Greco-Roman period, then in fact, prayer
is an important factor in the composition of scriptural texts. At the heart of
this textual collection, then, is prayer and teaching (musar), or to put it into the
Greek formulation into which this teaching will be translated, paideia.
Sirach 39 thus makes claims beyond simply the daily activity of the sage
by dealing with interpretive tradition and the role of embodied performative
teaching in the person of the sage. As a collection of sapiential material, the
proverbial sayings of Ben Sira seem particularly suited to oral delivery and col-
lection by students. As noted by Benjamin G. Wright, “the language and forms
of his teaching indicate that he most likely delivered it orally.”27 The account
of prayer followed by inspiration and subsequent teaching legitimates both
the revelatory role of the sage himself, but also the ongoing transmission of the
wisdom tradition.
In light of the oral and performative character of the sage’s role in teaching
the next generation through prayer and paideia, how then are we to under-
stand the evolution of this written sapiential anthology? The beginning of an
answer appears in this proverb from Sirach: “When a man of understanding
hears a wise saying, he will praise it and add to it.” (Sir 21:15). George Nickelsburg
has noted, “there is some evidence that the book was subject to a process of

24  Maurice Gilbert, “Prayer in the Book of Ben Sira,” in Prayer from Tobit to Qumran, 177–35.
Cf. Sir 15:9–10; 17:25–29; 39:5–6; 42:15–51:30.
25  A section on cultic religion in Sir 31:21–32:26=LXX 34:18–35:20, exhorting people to keep
the commandments about offering to the temple, peace offering, fine flour, and incense
etc., also ends with a prayer of petition in 35:22.
26  Helge Stadelmann, Ben Sira als Schriftgelehrter, WUNT 2.6 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck,
1980), 58–59.
27  “The Use and Interpretation of Biblical Tradition in the Praise of the Ancestors,” in Studies
in the Book of Ben Sira: Papers of the Third International Conference on the Deuterocanonical
Books, Shimeʿon Centre, Papa, Hungary, 19–20 May, 2006, ed. Géza G. Xeravits and Jósef
Zsengellér, JSJSup 127 (Leiden: Brill, 2008) 183–207, 206.
Scribal Bodies as Liturgical Bodies 95

ongoing composition and editing rather than being a onetime composition.”28

But the idea of adding to and expanding the corpus of proverbs as the result of
ingesting and engaging it, suggests a much larger body of oral teaching than is
ultimately put down in writing.
Hindy Najman has described such fluid and dynamic texts in relation to
“traditionary processes that encompass both textual formation and textual
interpretation, as well as a variety of text-involving practices, individual and
communal.”29 She uses a metaphor to describe the way in which new texts
might develop: “From these traditionary processes, texts of more or less fixity
sometimes precipitate out, just as, in chemistry, separable solids sometimes
form within a medium that remains liquid.” To my mind this is a very helpful
way of thinking about the development of textual entities in relation to the
ongoing tradition, but also and especially traditions of religious practice.
Both the prologue penned by Ben Sira’s grandson and the manuscript evi-
dence from Qumran and the Cairo Genizah shed light on the ongoing trans-
mission of this textual site. The evidence suggests both further accretions and
the use of excerpts from the work for pedagogical purposes. The prologue
provides clear evidence not only of the book’s translation from Hebrew into
Greek but its travelling status to Egypt to serve those Judeans who wanted to
live according to the law. Textual collections did not stay in one place. Further
confirmation of this is the appearance at the end of Ben Sira in a Greek transla-
tion of an alphabetic acrostic about Woman Wisdom found in the 11QPsalms
scroll. Much more could be said about this complex text that would become
scripture for some communities, in no small measure I would suggest because
of its depiction of an inspired scribe who is connected with its authorship.
As we have seen, Ben Sira links the acquisition of wisdom and his ability to
teach directly to the scribe’s daily regimen. The linkage of prayer, wisdom say-
ings, and teaching is true not only in Ben Sira, but in other Second Temple sapi-
ential works like Baruch or from Qumran, the Instruction texts (e.g., 4Q415–418
etc.) and 4Q525.
Much more could be said about the scribal product and how it interprets
the scriptural repertoire such as the famous chapter 24 which links the figure

28  Nickelsburg, Jewish Literature, 54. He cites Johannes Marböck, “Structure and Redaction
History in the Book of Ben Sira: Review and Prospects,” in Ben Sira in Modern Research,
ed. Pancratius Beentjes, BZAW 255 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1997), 61–79. For composition, see
76–79.
29  Hindy Najman, “Configuring the Text in Biblical Studies,” in A Teacher for All Generations:
Essays in Honor of James C. VanderKam, Vol. 1, ed. Eric Mason et al. (Leiden: Brill, 2012),
3–22, 7–8.
96 Newman

of Wisdom with the Torah of Moses and the ongoing teaching of the sage. But
having now considered Ben Sira as a scribal figure who is shaped through daily
prayer and paideia the effects of which permeate the resulting pluriform and
open-ended text, we turn to Daniel.

Daniel the Ascetic Visionary and Maskil

My second snapshot focuses on the figure of Daniel and the significance of con-
fessional prayer for shaping distinct communities in the late Second Temple
period. Daniel is depicted as a learned youth who was said to have been taught
the literature and language of the Chaldeans for three years. Daniel reveals a
different kind of sage. Rather than a hakham who teaches proverbial wisdom
and lore, the legendary figure of Daniel is an ascetic maskil whose revelation
is acquired not through study of the torah, but through dream interpretation
and visions. Though like Ben Sira, Daniel is also said to pray daily (Daniel 6),
we do not learn about the effects of his daily prayer. Perhaps more significant
is its timing: Daniel prays at the time of Temple sacrifices. Likewise, the long
confessional prayer offered in Daniel 9 prompts both an angelic visitation and
cognitive transformation.
Although the story is set in the Babylonian exile of the 6th century BCE, most
scholars have assumed that the Masoretic version of Daniel is the most firmly
dated of all biblical texts resulting from the persecution of Jews in Jerusalem
under the Greek ruler Antiochus Epiphanes in 168–164 BCE. While scholars
have seen a “lifestyle for the diaspora” in the court tales of chapters 1–6, the
book is typically read as an apocalyptic response to acute persecution under
the Seleucids.30 I want to argue that the work is more open-ended than that.
At this junction, it is helpful to recall a point made at the beginning of the
essay about the role of scriptural interpretation in shaping distinct, and some-
times opposing, communities. In order to do this, we need to put Daniel and
another late Second Temple era work, Baruch, in conversation with each other.
They in turn have a third conversation partner, Jeremiah. Baruch contains a
confessional prayer that is very similar to Daniel’s in certain respects, yet its
context differs considerably. From Daniel we can see an example of how rival
interpretations of scripture relate to prayer practices that shape different selves
and communities. At stake in this conversation are two issues: first, the role
of confessional prayer in ending the Babylonian exile. In the Greco-Roman

30  W. Lee Humphreys, “A Lifestyle for the Diaspora: A Study of the Tales of Esther and
Daniel,” JBL 92 (1973): 211–23.
Scribal Bodies as Liturgical Bodies 97

period the portrayal of exile comes to be understood in some works as an on-

going phenomenon. Not until the diaspora population is ingathered will it
be over. For Baruch this is an important and live issue. Daniel, on the other
hand, does not envision an end to the diaspora population of Judeans outside
the land. A second point is the question of whether prophecy continued in the
Greco-Roman period.
Who started the conversation? Daniel or Baruch? The traditional answer
has been that the text of Daniel is prior to Baruch and Baruch’s prayer borrows
from Daniel. I hope to call that easy answer into question by pointing to some
manuscript evidence from Qumran.

The Narrative Setting of Daniel 9

The use of Jeremiah in Daniel 9 is in one sense overt because the written leg-
acy of the prophet is named. As the passage begins, Daniel perceives in the
Scrolls of the prophet Jeremiah the length of the devastation of Jerusalem, sev-
enty years. This is thought to be the earliest explicit reference to a scriptural
book. Daniel seeks God in prayer and supplication with self-abasement, fast-
ing, sackcloth, and ashes. Because of this sequence of actions, it is assumed
that the passage is referring to the oracles in MT Jer 25: 11–12, 29:10–14 which
call for seeking and praying to God. In what is clearly a redacted insertion,
there is a long prayer of confession, different in character from the rest of the
book of Daniel. There are clear signs that the prayer has been redacted into
its surrounding narrative in Daniel. Its language and theology is markedly dif-
ferent from the rest of the work. In any case, the praying works because the
angel Gabriel arrives to offer Daniel an interpretation of what he has seen
in Jeremiah. It will not be 70 years, but 70 times 7 before the desolation of
Jerusalem is complete.
The act of praying in Daniel 9 serves a crucial role in the narrative because
it initiates Daniel’s transformation in the last half of the book in the vision
sequence. He does not pray until the middle of his four visionary experiences.
He is unable to understand the first two visions, so he has to ask for help from
the angel. The second two are provided as a direct result of his activity of pray-
ing. The angel Gabriel tells him that “At the beginning of your supplications
a word went out, and I have come to declare it, for you are greatly beloved.”
The fourth vision comes after Daniel’s most extreme deprivation of fasting for
three weeks. So like Ben Sira, Daniel is also transformed, but in a very differ-
ent way owing in part to his ascetical practices and vision cultivation. In the
successive events following his prayer, he both acquires understanding and is
98 Newman

given a new status. He is thereafter called, “precious” (‫ ;חמדות‬Dan 9:23; 10:11, 19),
one possessed of great worth. Daniel becomes the first sage (maskil) of a pre-
dicted group of maskilim (wise ones) who will teach others in a future time
of distress.

The Role of Confession in the Narrative of Israel’s Exile

While the act of praying plays an important role in stimulating the angelic
visit, the inclusion of the long confession has remained a scholarly crux. In
one sense, one would expect a prayer for illumination about what Daniel has
just read in the scrolls of Jeremiah. If however, we consider the passages in
Jeremiah 29 that the author of Daniel has in mind, his actions become clear-
er. Jeremiah’s oracle foresees the exile and calls for those in exile to seek God
and to pray. This will in turn allow for an ingathering and restoration of all
to the land.
The prayer in Dan 9:4–19 is one of a larger body of confessional prayers that
appear in the Persian and Greco-Roman eras. They are found both imbedded
in literature, as is the Daniel confession, but also exist as independent liturgical
pieces (found at Qumran.) The development of the confessional prayer genre is
rooted in the trauma of the Babylonian exile. The prayers admit guilt for wrong-
doing in a corporate confession and recognize divine righteousness for punish-
ment using in particular wording from Leviticus 26 and Deuteronomy 28 which
was thought to ensure the reversal of the covenant curses of Deuteronomy and
the loss of the land.31 Almost all of the confessional prayers thus seek to put
an end to negative conditions resulting from the exile. They include petitions

31  While the number and identification of confessional prayers included in the list varies,
the following prayers are usually included: Ezra 9:5–15; Neh 1:4–11; 9:6–37; Dan 9:4–19; Bar
1:15–3:8; Prayer of Azariah; Tob 3:1–6; 3 Macc 2:1–10; 4Q393; 4Q504 2 v–vi. Related texts
include Solomon’s prayer of dedication at the Temple in 1 Kgs 8:22–53 and the later Prayer
of Manasseh. Rodney A. Werline was the first to offer a monograph-length treatment,
Penitential Prayer in Second Temple Judaism: The Development of a Religious Institution,
SBLEJL 13 (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1998). For a concise summary of scholarship on confes-
sional prayers, see Mark Boda,,“Confession as Theological Expression,” in Seeking the Favor
of God: Volume 1: The Origins of Penitential Prayer in Second Temple Judaism, ed. Mark J.
Boda, Daniel K. Falk, and Rodney A. Werline, SBLEJL 22 (Atlanta: SBL Press, 2006), 21–45.
Cf. also Daniel Falk’s clear exposition in “Scriptural Inspiration for Penitential Prayer,” in
Seeking the Favor of God, Volume 2: The Development of Penitential Prayer in Second Temple
Judaism, ed. Mark J. Boda, Daniel K. Falk, and Rodney A. Werline, SBLEJL 22 (Atlanta: SBL
Press, 2007), 127–57.
Scribal Bodies as Liturgical Bodies 99

for an ingathering of the diaspora population to the land. In contrast, the con-
fessional prayer in Daniel does not request the end to the diaspora at all. The
only petition, couched in rather distinctive language, relates to Jerusalem: “Let
your face shine upon your desolate sanctuary” (Dan 9:17). In this focus on the
city and temple alone and for the lack of concern about the ingathering of the
people, it stands alone among all other such confessional prayers.

The Confession of Baruch as a Counterpoint to Daniel

Turning now to Baruch’s side of the conversation and interpretation of

Jeremiah reveals a counter-discourse on the desirability of the ongoing dias-
pora and the leadership role of the scribe in Judean life. The book of Baruch as
it appears in modern Bibles comprises five chapters that are intent on shaping
a view of society and its future that is rather different from that of Daniel and
his fellow maskilim. The narrative setting of Baruch is before Daniel at the very
beginning of the Babylonian exile. The narrative introduction (Bar 1:1–16) pro-
vides the frame for contextualizing the long confessional prayer in 1:15–3:8; a
wisdom poem of consolation to and about Zion.32 Of the confessional prayers
the two prayers of Daniel and Baruch have been understood to have a particu-
larly close relationship with shared wording at the beginning, though Baruch’s
prayer is much longer.

Rival Interpretations of Jeremiah’s 70 Year Exile

Baruch reveals a different form of “socially embodied argument” to use

Macintyre’s term for tradition, here applied to the interpretation of the
“goods” of Jeremiah. While Daniel’s use of Jeremiah is limited to mentioning
his “books” and the literal reference to the seventy-years prophecy that must

32  The issue of the “unity” of Baruch will not concern us here. Some scholars view Baruch as
the product of a single author while others see it as a redacted compilation of constituent
sources. I find the latter view more compelling. Odil Hannes Steck’s creative suggestion
that the book relates to different parts of Jeremiah 29 is intriguing (Bar 1:15–3:8 to Jer 29:5–7;
Bar 3:9–4:4 to Jer 29: 8–9; Bar 4:5–5:9 to Jer 29:10–14 [Das apokryphe Baruchbuch: Studien
zu Rezeption und Konzentration “kanonischer” Überlieferung (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck &
Ruprecht, 1993), 10]). However, the difficulty with this view is that Jeremiah 29 suggests
that the return will happen only after seventy years whereas Baruch depicts the end of
exile as imminent (cf. Bar 4:25, 36–37; 5:4).
100 Newman

be interpreted by the angelic mediator, Baruch’s use of Jeremiah is pervasive,

if cloaked and subtle—because Jeremiah is never named! The narrative in-
troduction of Baruch presents itself as a letter written by Baruch. Whereas
Jeremiah was said to have sent a letter from Jerusalem to Babylon (Jer 29:1–3/
LXX 36: 1–3), Baruch sends a letter from the diaspora to Jerusalem. He sends
the scroll to the high priest and people in Jerusalem with instructions to pray
for Nebuchadnezzar (1:11) and the exiles (1:13). Baruch introduces the prayer
by designating the time and place for its recitation as well as making it a com-
munal obligation.
I have dealt with the nuances of its intertextuality elsewhere.33 I will just
point out that Baruch envisions a full restoration of the people to the land,
but with the scribe playing a central teaching and liturgical role: issuing com-
mands even to the high priest in Jerusalem. Part of the “socially embodied ar-
gument” in Baruch lies in the self-conscious construction of an ideal scribal
sage and author of scripture, a role promoted at the expense of the active office
of the prophet like Jeremiah in relation to Judean communities both in the
land and in the diaspora. This “Baruch” succeeded in his aims to some degree.
At least in early Christian communities, Baruch was attached to the book of
Jeremiah, and understood to be part of that prophetic book, thereby usurping
the prophet’s role for the sage.

Material Considerations: 4Q116 and Personal Prayer

Having considered this presumed intertextual “conversation” between Baruch

and Daniel, I want to discuss, in brief compass, the two kinds of manuscript
evidence that might also point to a more open-ended manuscript in which
the practice of prayer might have factored. The first relates to the confessional
prayer in Daniel. Of the eight manuscripts from Qumran that have been iden-
tified as part of Daniel, only one manuscript, 4QDane (4Q116), contains any
extant material from the equivalent of Daniel 9.34 The manuscript moreover

33  See my essay “Confessing in Exile: The Reception and Composition of Jeremiah in
(Daniel) and Baruch,” in Jeremiah’s Scriptures: Production, Reception, Interaction and
Transformation, ed. Hindy Najman and Konrad Schmid, JSJSup 173 (Leiden: Brill, 2016),
231–52.
34  The dating and content of the manuscripts are as follows: 1Q71 (1QDana) 1st half of 1st
century CE (1:10–17; 2:2–6), 1Q72 (1QDanb) early or mid-1st century BCE (3:22–30), 4Q112
(4QDana) mid-1st century BCE (1:16–20; 2:9–11, 19–49; 3:1–2; 4:29–30; 5:5–7, 12–14, 16–19;
7:5–7, 25–28; 8:1–5; 10:16–20; 11:13–16), 4Q113 (4QDanb) 1st half of 1st century CE (5:10–12,
Scribal Bodies as Liturgical Bodies 101

contains no material from other chapters of Daniel—it is a short manuscript

of only two columns.35 The character of 4Q116 is different from the others.36
It is much smaller (8 cm vs. 14–20.8)37 and contains only the words from the
confession. Concerning 4Q116, Eugene Ulrich, the editor of the manuscripts
concludes: “The early date of the scroll makes one wonder whether it is a copy
derived from the full Book of Daniel or rather a copy of an originally separate
prayer which was then incorporated into chapter 9.”38
More support for Ulrich’s suggestion is found among the Qumran prayer
manuscripts. Daniel Falk has made a number of significant observations about
the physical characteristics of Qumran prayer texts.39 One is that prayer texts

14–16, 19–22; 6:8–22, 27–29; 7:1–6, 11?, 26–28; 8:1–8, 13–16), 4Q114 (4Q Danc) late 2nd early
1st century BCE (10:5–9, 11–16, 21; 11:1–2, 13–17, 25–29), 4Q115 (4QDand) mid or late 1st cen-
tury BCE (3:8–10?, 23–25; 4:5–9, 12–16; 7:15–23), 4Q116 (4QDane) late 2nd early 1st century
BCE (9:12–17), pap6Q7 (pap6QDan) 1st half of 1st century CE (8:16–17?, 20–21?; 10:8–16;
11:33–36, 38).
35  There is one exception that proves the rule. Some scholars have seen an allusion to or
citation of the first three words of Dan 9:7 in 1QHa 8:27, with possible resonances in 1QHa
4:32; 9:28; 12:31–32; 19:21. Esther Chazon refuted this suggestion by noting that it is not an
exact parallel. The problem with that identification is that the Gerichtsdoxologie, the af-
firmation of divine righteousness, occurs in other biblical prayers (Lam 1:18, 21; Ezra 9:15;
Neh 9:33 in Hebrew; in Greek: Bar 2:9; Prayer of Azariah 4; Tob 3:2; LXX Esther 14:6–7).
Moreover, Chazon observes instead that the proclamation of divine justice in 1QHa is
identical to that found in the Words of the Luminaries (4Q504 19:4–5, frg. 1–2 vi 3–4). She
argues that the author of the hodayah “who recontextualized the proclamation as well
as other traditional penitential elements . . . was drawing upon an existing, extra-biblical,
liturgical source for this formulation” (“Tradition and Innovation in Sectarian Religious
Poetry,” in Prayer and Poetry in the Dead Sea Scrolls and Related Literature: Essays in Honor
of Eileen Schuller on the Occasion of Her 65th Birthday, ed. Jeremy Penner, Ken M. Penner,
Cecilia Wassen, STDJ 98 [Leiden: Brill, 2012], 55–67, 61). Chazon’s argument is cogent in its
suggestion of a traditional formula, but I disagree with her assumption that the boundar-
ies of “biblical texts” were already fixed. This assumption, like those of many other schol-
ars, colors her reading of 4QDane as part of the work of Daniel.
36  Ulrich, DJD 16:255.
37  Barthélemy, DJD 1:150.
38  Ulrich, “The Text of Daniel in the Qumran Scrolls,” in BDCR, 2:582. Preliminary publication
of the fragments from Cave 4: Eugene C. Ulrich, “Daniel Manuscripts from Qumran: Part
1: A Preliminary Edition of 4QDana,” BASOR 268 (1987): 17–37; “Daniel Manuscripts from
Qumran: Part 2: Preliminary Editions of 4QDanb and 4QDanc,” BASOR 274 (1989): 3–26.
For critical editions see footnote 1 of Flint in BDCR 2:330.
39  Daniel K. Falk, “Material Aspects of Prayer Manuscripts at Qumran,” in Liturgy or
Literature? Early Christian Hymns and Prayers in their Literary and Liturgical Context
in Antiquity, ed. Clemens Leonhard and Helmut Lohr, WUNT 2.363 (Tübingen: Mohr
102 Newman

are the most common manuscripts to be copied in a small format and as opis-
thographs.40 He understands the small format to facilitate private or personal
use, or for teaching purposes. Thus while 4Q116, 4QDane, has been grouped by
scholars along with other Daniel manuscripts as reflecting the “book of Daniel”
at Qumran, this small manuscript, might better be classified along with the
many prayer manuscripts found in the eleven caves in and around Qumran.

Extending the Story of Para-Biblical Daniel and Baruch/Jeremiah

In addition to 4Q116, the second piece of manuscript evidence are texts often
referred to as “para-biblical” in the scholarship.41 These are narrative texts that
relate to the contents of the book of Daniel or seem to reflect similar traditions.
For example there are 4QPseudo-Daniela–c, 4Q243–245, which mention Daniel
and the notion of the exile as punishment for the sins of the people, but also
refer to the antediluvian figures of Enoch, Noah.42 There are also such “para-
biblical” texts that include Baruch in the diaspora.
Should we think of these so-called “para-biblical” texts as a kind of fan fic-
tion? An extension of the themes and characters of the Daniel or Jeremiah
narratives would suggest so. However, I would say the analogy fails on a central
point, namely that modern fan fiction depends on a completed and published
book. If, however, we presuppose a piece of fan fiction about Harry Potter

Siebeck, 2014), 33–88. Falk relied on the genre classification of Armin Lange which distin-
guished prayer and liturgical texts separately from scriptural. Given what is known about
the continuing fluidity of scripture during this era and in light of my own work in this
essay, it would seem that a broader review of all fragments to look for independent prayer
traditions, whether among scriptural texts, sectarian compositions, or other, might yield
additional prayers.
40  Falk, “Material Aspects of Prayer Manuscripts,” 41.
41  For an assessment of the “non-biblical” Danielic traditions, see Loren T. Stuckenbruck,
“The Formation and Reformation of Daniel in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” The Bible and the
Dead Sea Scrolls: Volume One Scripture and the Scrolls, ed. James H. Charlesworth (Waco,
TX: Baylor University Press, 2006), 113–20 (101–30). A treatment that includes portions
of the reconstructed texts is Peter W. Flint, “The Daniel Tradition at Qumran,” BDCR
2:329–67.
42  Concerning the mention of Enochic traditions, Stuckenbruck makes the comment: “This,
in turn, opens up the alternative possibility that 4Q243 and 244 preserve traditions re-
flecting a cross-fertilization between the Danielic and Enochic cycles before a time when
the book of Daniel had established itself as a work to be regarded as a “biblical” com-
position in its own right.” Stuckenbruck, “Formation and Reformation,” 115. His point is
well taken.
Scribal Bodies as Liturgical Bodies 103

influenced J.K. Rowling in shaping the plot and narrative of the final volume of
the series, then it might hold. Because that is what seems to be the case based
on the Qumran Jeremiah manuscripts. The book of Jeremiah was still taking
shape when both Daniel and Baruch were being composed. As it happens, we
know that the eventual shape and ordering of the Septuagint and MT Jeremiah
are quite different. In this pre-canonical era they are better termed simply part
of the developing Daniel tradition.
The social setting for the composition of Daniel and such texts is impos-
sible to determine with conclusive precision. However, Charlotte Hempel has
noted a number of connections between the esoteric and visionary concerns
of Daniel 10–11 in which the wise, the maskilim, are said to give instruction to
the Many at the end of days, and the Qumran Yaḥad community. A chief in-
stitutional leader of the Yaḥad was called the Maskil and he was charged with
instruction in the community. She writes intriguingly:

Whereas Matthias Henze has stated rather eloquently that “the covenant-
ers have made Daniel’s language their own,” I have tried to suggest that,
to some extent, it was their own. In other words, the overlap can just as
well be accounted for by the shared roots of these movements than by
the influence of Daniel upon Qumran.43

And in fact, Matthias Henze has himself called our attention in more recent
work to the need to be attentive to the diachronic interaction between closely
related texts as they develop which takes account of oral-aural modes of trans-
mission.44 But further consideration of these important questions is for an-
other essay.

Conclusion

Biblical scholars have long understood that biblical texts are diachronic prod-
ucts. Deuteronomy or Isaiah are not the result of an author putting a pen to
expensive parchment and authoring a book from beginning to end. Yet the

43  Charlotte Hempel, “Maskil(im) and Rabbim: From Daniel to Qumran,” in Biblical
Traditions in Transmission, 133–56, 156.
44  Matthias Henze, Jewish Apocalypticism in Late First Century Israel: Reading 2 Baruch
in Context, TSAJ 142 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011), 127–86; see also his essay, “4 Ezra
and 2 Baruch: Literary Composition and Oral Performance in First-Century Apocalyptic
Literature,” JBL 131 (2012): 181–200.
104 Newman

story of the Bible’s formation has been told within canonical borders. What has
come to light based in part on our earliest evidence from Qumran has caused
a paradigm shift: the story of the Bible’s formation must be told in a way that
goes beyond the confines of canonical boundaries and related assumptions
about a linear and teleological process. We must delve into the period before
the Bible, namely the late Second Temple period, and ask some different ques-
tions of the earliest scriptural manuscripts and other early Jewish texts, their
interpretation, and how they interact.
In this short piece in honor of George Brooke, I have sought to respond to
a question he has posed, a scholarly lacuna he has pointed out. How does the
issue of liturgical setting, or worship and prayer, shape the composition of
scripture and its growing authority? With his erudite and informative schol-
arship, he himself has filled in many gaps, and I hope I have begun to fill in
one in partial measure. The making and remaking of scriptures is a matter of
process and not moment. The making of scriptures occurs because of the on-
going need for self and community formation, of definition and redefinition in
the face of contemporary challenges. In the Greco-Roman era, it is clear that
prayer, both individual and communal, becomes a central means of achieving
that communication with the divine. Interpretation of existing scriptures also
played an important role in claiming earlier voices from the tradition to shape
the present. On the basis of my study of the scribal figures Ben Sira, Daniel,
and Baruch, there is evidence of the close enmeshment of prayer and scrip-
ture. The diachronic composition of scripture involved, and indeed required,
prayer and liturgical practices for the purposes of legitimating the inspired
character of the text and its ongoing composition. In sum, a corpus of sacred
texts emerges and evolves in relationship with liturgical bodies. While this cer-
tainly does not provide the entire story of the formation of scriptures in early
Judaism, it does provide a window into the learned and liturgical efforts that
were involved.
Qumran Cave 4: Its Archaeology and its Manuscript
Collection

Sidnie White Crawford

Qumran Cave 4 has been described as the mother lode of the Judean Desert
caves, and as the hub of the Qumran manuscript collection.* Situated a stone’s
throw from the buildings of Qumran, on the southern spur of the western marl
plateau, its mere location argues for a connection with the Qumran settle-
ment. Added to that are the many connections between the Cave 4 manuscript
collection and the manuscript collections in the other ten Qumran caves.1 This
article will investigate the archaeology of Cave 4, followed by a glimpse at the
nature of its collection. By bringing together these two types of evidence, a
plausible reconstruction of the function of Cave 4 in the late Second Temple
period can be obtained.

The Archaeology of Cave 4

Cave 4 is actually two caves adjacent to one another, 4a and 4b, hollowed out
from the marl plateau situated immediately to the west of the plateau on which
the building remains of Qumran are located. It was first opened by Bedouin
tribesmen in 1952.2 Once they began to bring their manuscript finds to the
Palestine Archaeological Museum for sale, Roland de Vaux and G. Lankester

* It gives me great pleasure to offer this essay in honour of my distinguished friend and col-
league George J. Brooke. George and I first met as fellows of the Annenberg Institute for
Jewish Studies in Philadelphia in the fall of 1992, and have maintained a close friendship
since then. The seeds of this article were planted during a lecture I gave at Manchester
University in the fall of 2012, which was followed by a most pleasant weekend in Chester at
the home of George and his wife Jane.
1  See most recently Sidnie W. Crawford, “The Qumran Collection as a Scribal Library,” in
The Dead Sea Scrolls at Qumran and the Concept of a Library, ed. Sidnie W. Crawford and
Cecilia Wassen, STDJ 116 (Leiden: Brill, 2016), 109–31, 120–25.
2  Because the Bedouin did not distinguish fragments from 4a and 4b, but instead mixed them
together, the two caves were collectively designated “Cave 4Q.” The Bedouin who removed
fragments from these caves claimed that most of them originated in 4a, with almost none
from 4b; these claims were borne out by the fragments found by the archaeologists, most of
which also came from 4a. Thus de Vaux deemed 4a the more important of the two.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ���7 | doi ��.��63/9789004344532_007

106 White Crawford

Harding discovered the location of the cave and removed the clandestine
diggers. De Vaux then undertook the excavation of the cave in September of
1952. A preliminary report of the findings, written by de Vaux, was published
posthumously in DJD 6. The final report has yet to be published. According to
de Vaux’s report, the archaeologists explored for themselves the lower layers
of the cave and one small concealed chamber (probably de Vaux’s “obscure
nook”; see below). The Bedouin had dug their own entrance, and the archeolo-
gists now discovered the original entrance. Although by the time the archae-
ologists entered the cave, the Bedouin had already removed at least a meter
of debris containing manuscript fragments, de Vaux and his workers collected
nearly 1000 fragments from perhaps 100 manuscripts.3
Cave 4a’s principal chamber (Chamber 1) had an east-west orientation; it
was 8 m in length and a maximum of 3.25 m in width, with a maximum height
of 3 m. It is open to the east (toward the settlement) by a window that over-
looks the ravine that separates Caves 4–5 and 10 from the south end of the marl
plateau on which the ruins of Qumran sit. In front of this window an oblong
trench was dug, 1 m long and 65 cm deep. Chamber 1 also had small niches hol-
lowed out of its walls above floor height. According to de Vaux, “almost all” of
the recovered documents and pottery came from this chamber.4
In the centre of the south wall of Chamber 1, a second chamber (Chamber 2)
was dug toward the south. It sits at a higher level than Chamber 1. Its ceiling
and most of its walls have eroded away. At the time of its discovery it did not
contain any documents or pottery.
A third chamber was dug at a southwest angle from the main chamber, at a
lower level. It was not more than 2 m in height, 2 m long and 2.5 m in width.
Between Chambers 2 and 3 an “obscure nook”5 was dug out from the south
wall, which was accessed by an irregular descent cut into the floor of Chamber 1.
It was sunk 1.3 m below the floor, and was 1.45 m in height. According to de
Vaux, it contained much debris that had slid down from Chamber 1, in addition
to a small jug.

3  This information, and all of the following information unless noted, is taken from Roland de
Vaux, “Archéologie,” in Qumrân Grotte 4.II, DJD 6 (Oxford: Clarendon, 1977), 3–22. See also
Józef T. Milik, Ten Years of Discovery in the Wilderness of Judaea, SBT 26 (Chatham: Allenson,
1959) and Frank M. Cross, The Ancient Library of Qumran and Modern Biblical Studies, rev. ed.
(Grand Rapids: Baker, 1961). Milik was present at the excavation of Cave 4, and Cross was the
first to examine its excavated fragments.
4  De Vaux, “Archéologie,” 9.
5  “Un réduit obscur,” De Vaux, “Archéologie,” 9.
Qumran Cave 4 107

The original entrance to Cave 4a was constructed to the north; it consisted of

a circular opening with a sunken passage that slopes gently down several me-
ters, finishing in several steps that issue out in the north wall of Chamber 1. In
the passage de Vaux discovered a lamp, which he dated to the first century CE.6
Finally, a small trench between Caves 4a and 4b had been formed by ero-
sion; some fragments, pottery and phylactery cases had drifted into it, evident-
ly from Chamber 1.7
To summarize, Cave 4a was intentionally dug into the marl terrace which
lies to the west of the buildings of Qumran; it was visible and easily acces-
sible from the settlement. Entrance was made from above, coming south
on the ridge of the marl plateau, and by means of an opening, ramp and stairs.
The cave consisted of one principal chamber (Chamber 1), with two smaller
chambers dug off it (Chambers 2 and 3). All three chambers were high enough
for an adult male to stand in. Chamber 1 contained a niche dug into the floor
below its window, as well as a small space (de Vaux’s “obscure nook”) accessed
from its floor.
Cave 4b is situated immediately to the west of 4a. Although a trench formed
by erosion now connects the two caves (see above), in antiquity they were not
connected.8 4b consists of one chamber, oriented east-west, which is 5.5 m.
long, about 2 m. wide, and 2.15 m. in height. Originally it had a second chamber
on its east, about 1.7 m. lower, which has been carried away by erosion. On the
west, 4b had a large open bay in the cliff face, overlooking Wadi Qumran.
The cave’s entrance was an opening in its north wall, with a steep passage now
almost entirely eroded, which stopped on a platform from which one jumped
down into the cave.

Material Remains Recovered from Cave 4

Pottery and other debris (in addition to manuscript fragments) were recovered
from both caves (although de Vaux described 4b as “very nearly sterile”).9 Both

6  De Vaux, “Archéologie,” 17–18.

7  Although de Vaux believed that this trench was formed by erosion, Humbert has suggested
that it was made as a deliberate connection between Caves 4a and 4b. Jean-Baptiste Humbert,
“Cacher et se cacher à Qumrân: grottes et refuges. Morphologie, fonctions, anthropologie,” in
The Caves of Qumran: Proceedings of the International Conference, Lugano 2014, ed. Marcello
Fidanzio, STDJ 118 (Leiden: Brill, 2017), 34–63.
8  But see Humbert, “Cacher et se cacher à Qumrân.”
9  De Vaux, “Archéologie,” 13.
108 White Crawford

de Vaux and Dennis Mizzi, who has examined the small finds from Cave 4,
comment on the overall dearth of small finds coming out of the two caves.10
According to de Vaux, almost all of the pottery, which was very broken, came
from Cave 4a. His inventory consists of eleven cylindrical or ovoid jars (aka
“scroll jars”), one bag-shaped jar, three bowl-shaped lids, one “casserole,”
five bowls, three plates, two jugs, one juglet (this was located in the “obscure
nook”), and one Herodian lamp.11 All of the recovered pottery dates from the
first century BCE to the first century CE, thus matching the dates of the pottery
recovered from the buildings of Qumran.
Other small finds included seventeen phylactery cases, thirteen of which
were published by Józef T. Milik in DJD 6.12 In addition, de Vaux mentions re-
covering debris of cloth, wood and leather (uninscribed?13), but does not pro-
vide further details. In her 2003 inventory, Bélis lists a fragment of linen with a
border, and a leather thong.14
The floor of Cave 4b was covered in palm branches, spread to a thickness
of 25 cm. Underneath the palm branches was a powdery layer mixed with ash,
then a layer of brown dust.15 Finally, Fields, based on an interview with the
Bedouin diggers, states that they found pieces of wood in the cave, which they
threw into the wadi as worthless.16

10  De Vaux, “Archéologie,” 52; Dennis Mizzi, “Miscellaneous Artefacts from the Qumran
Caves: An Exploration of their Significance,” in Fidanzio, The Caves of Qumran, 137–60.
11  De Vaux, “Archéologie,” 15–20; Mizzi, “Miscellaneous Artefacts,” table 2. According to
Taylor, the lamp has recently been redated to between the late first and early third cen-
turies CE. Joan E. Taylor, “The Qumran Caves in their Regional Context: A Chronological
Review with a Focus on Bar Kokhba Assemblages,” in Fidanzio, The Qumran Caves, 7–33.
12  According to Milik three of these were found by the excavators, while the rest were pur-
chased from the Bedouin. Józef T. Milik, “Tefillin, mezuzot et targums (4Q128–4Q157),” in
Qumrân Grotte 4.II, DJD 6 (Oxford: Clarendon, 1977), 33–90, 34. Yonatan Adler has identi-
fied an additional four cases; see Yonatan Adler, “The Distribution of Tefillin Finds Among
the Judean Desert Caves,” in Fidanzio, The Qumran Caves, 161–73.
13  See Weston Fields, The Dead Sea Scrolls: A Full History, Vol. 1 (Leiden: Brill, 2009), 153.
14  De Vaux, “Archéologie,” 15. Mireille Bélis, “Des textiles, catalogues et commentaires,” in
Khirbet Qumrân et ‘Aïn Feshkha: Études d’anthropologie, de physique et de chimie, ed. Jean-
Baptiste Humbert and Jan Gunneweg, NTOA.SA 3 (Fribourg: Academic Press; Göttingen:
Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2003), 207–76, tableau 1.
15  De Vaux, “Archéologie,” 13.
16  Fields, The Dead Sea Scrolls, 150.
Qumran Cave 4 109

The Function of Caves 4Q in the Late Second Temple Period

In light of the archaeological evidence presented above, what can be said

about the function of Caves 4Q in the first century BCE through the first cen-
tury CE? The original digging of the caves in antiquity would have been an
enormous undertaking, requiring much time and human resources.17 It is im-
possible to determine when the caves were actually excavated; the presence of
the datable pottery and the manuscripts point to the late Second Temple pe-
riod, when the settlement at Qumran was constructed. In a plausible scenario,
David Stacey has suggested that the marl caves were dug to supply clay to make
the mud bricks that were used to construct the buildings.18 However, it is worth
remembering that a small settlement existed at Qumran in the Iron II period.19
Frank M. Cross suggested in an interview that the marl caves, including Caves
4Q, were originally constructed as Iron Age tombs.20 If the caves were origi-
nally used as burial caves, however, they would have been thoroughly cleaned
out and the windows cut at a later date, presumably when the site was rein-
habited in the late Second Temple period. The presence of windows, especially
the large one overlooking the wadi in 4a, would suggest use as habitations. The
palm fronds covering the floor in 4b would support the habitation theory as
well. On the other hand, the very small amount of pottery fragments recovered
from the caves, the majority of which are storage jars rather than small items
for personal use, indicates that the caves were only briefly used for habitation,
if at all.
The most significant artifacts found in Caves 4Q were the manuscripts
themselves. Thus they must be the first consideration when seeking to deter-
mine the function of the caves. De Vaux was unequivocal in his identification
of the caves as habitations, which were used for scroll storage in the emergency
situation of the impending Roman attack.21 In fact, he suggests that the scroll
fragments recovered from Cave 4b were private use manuscripts, left behind
when the settlement was abandoned, like those manuscripts in Caves 7Q, 8Q

17  Humbert, ““Cacher et se cacher à Qumrân.”

18  David Stacey and Gregory Doudna, Qumran Revisited: A Reassessment of the Archaeology
of the Site and its Texts, BAR International Series 2520, (Oxford: Archaeopress, 2013), 37.
19  Roland de Vaux, Archaeology and the Dead Sea Scrolls (London: British Academy, 1973), 1.
20  Hershel Shanks, Frank Moore Cross: Conversations with a Bible Scholar (Washington, DC:
Biblical Archaeology Society, 1994), 114. This suggestion is discussed positively by Taylor,
“The Qumran Caves.”
21  De Vaux, “Archéologie,” 21.
110 White Crawford

and 9Q.22 However, since we do not know precisely which manuscripts came
from 4b, it is difficult to test his theory.
The majority of the fragments seem to have come from 4a, and according
to the testimony of de Vaux, Milik, and Cross, were found lying packed on the
floor of the cave, underneath at least a metre of debris. De Vaux states that
most of the fragments were recovered from Chamber 1, where they had been
put pell-mell (“en vrac”). He further notes that fragments of the same manu-
scripts were dispersed in every layer of the deposit.23 Fragments were also re-
covered from the trench between 4a and 4b, and in the “obscure nook” cut into
the floor of Chamber 1.
Milik, describing the Bedouin find in an early publication, says, “They had
already turned over several cubic metres of earth when, suddenly, their hands
came upon a compact layer of thousands of manuscript fragments.”24 Cross,
the first scholar to systematically examine the excavated fragments from
Caves 4, noted,

I was struck with the fact that the relatively small quantity of fragments
from the deepest levels of the cave nevertheless represented a fair cross
section of the whole deposit in the cave, which suggests . . . that the man-
uscripts may have been in great disorder when originally abandoned in
the cave.25

This combined testimony, that the scrolls were laid in layers on the floor of the
cave, with no discernible order, supports the “quick hiding scenario” champi-
oned by de Vaux.26

22  De Vaux recovered “several written fragments” from the bed of palms in 4b. De Vaux,
“Archéologie,” 13.
23  De Vaux, “Archéologie,” 4, 21.
24  Milik, Ten Years, 17.
25  Cross, Ancient Library of Qumran, 27 n. 32. See also Frank Moore Cross, “Reminiscences of
the Early Days in the Discovery and Study of the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in The Dead Sea Scrolls
Fifty Years after their Discovery, 1947–1997, ed. Lawrence H. Schiffman, Emanuel Tov, and
James C. VanderKam (Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 2000), 932–43, 935, where he
says, “I had a cross-section of Cave 4 manuscripts, eloquent evidence of the chaotic mix of
fragments surviving in the cave.” Regarding 4QSama, a late first century BCE manuscript,
Cross states, “In the lowest subterranean level of the cave, in a small pit, twenty-seven
fragments of 4QSama were found.” Frank M. Cross et al., Qumran Cave 4.XII: 1–2 Samuel,
DJD 17 (Oxford: Clarendon, 2005), 2. This “pit” could be either the trench in front of the
window in Cave 4a, or the “obscure nook” in the same cave. In any case, the fragments
came from the lowest level of the cave.
26  De Vaux, Archaeology, 105.
Qumran Cave 4 111

However, other archaeological evidence may point to the use of the caves
as longer term storage for scroll manuscripts. It has long been suggested that
the niches in the walls of Chamber 1 may have been used as support holes for
shelving.27 No wood remnants that may have been used for shelves were re-
covered from the chamber, but the Bedouin did claim to have discarded pieces
of wood that they found in the cave. If there were in fact shelves on which
manuscripts were stored, and these shelves disintegrated in antiquity and fell
to the floor of the cave, it might explain the disarray of the manuscripts on
the cave floor. If Cave 4a was used as a storage cave for manuscripts over the
course of the life of the Qumran settlement, the dearth of small finds associ-
ated with habitation and the large number of manuscripts found there would
be explained.28 However, it would not explain why fragments were discovered
packed into every part of Chamber 1 and its nook; for that, the “quick-hiding”
scenario offers a better explanation.
In sum, the archaeology of Caves 4a and 4b presents the following picture.
Cave 4a, in spite of being manmade and having good light and air, does not
seem to have been used for long-term habitation in the late Second Temple
period, during the time the Qumran settlement was inhabited. Rather, it may
have been used for long-term storage of scrolls; certainly at the end of the first
century CE a large collection of scrolls was abandoned in the cave.
Cave 4b may have been used for habitation, given its palm leaf flooring, but
if it was very little material evidence of that remains. On the other hand, rela-
tively few scroll fragments were found there either, so it seems clear that it was
not used for scroll storage. In that way 4b more closely resembles Caves 7Q, 8Q
and 9Q, which were certainly used as habitation caves.
The next step is to investigate the contents of the scrolls collection aban-
doned in Cave 4a, to see if it can help to determine when, how and why it
ended up there.

27  They were evidently not used for lamps, since there is no soot blackening the walls around
them. I thank Jodi Magness for this observation.
28  Taylor suggests an alternative scenario: Cave 4 was used as a temporary storage place
for manuscripts being prepared for burial in a genizah. She suggests the shelves were
removed in Period 3 (the post-sectarian phase of the settlement), thus explaining the
disarray of the manuscripts. Joan E. Taylor, “Buried Manuscripts and Empty Tombs:
The Qumran Genizah Theory Revisited,” in “Go Out and Study the Land” ( Judges 18:2):
Archaeological, Historical and Textual Studies in Honor of Hanan Eshel, ed. Aren M. Maeir,
Jodi Magness, and Lawrence H. Schiffman, JSJSup 148 (Leiden: Brill, 2012), 270–317, 291–
92. See also Stephen J. Pfann, “Reassessing the Judean Desert Caves: Libraries, Archives,
Genizahs and Hiding Places,” BAIAS 25 (2007): 147–70, 152.
112 White Crawford

The Cave 4 Scroll Collection

A quick scan of the Cave 4 collection demonstrates how diverse and broad it
was. It contained multiple copies of the classical literature of ancient Judaism,
which became the Jewish canon of scripture at a later date. It contained a
cross-section of later Second Temple literature (with some notable excep-
tions), including previously unknown works.29 Cave 4 also contained what has
been identified as sectarian literature, such as the Damascus Document and
the Community Rule. Three languages, Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek, are rep-
resented, as well as four scripts, the Aramaic square script, paleo-Hebrew, the
cryptic script, and Greek. Finally, it contains several idiosyncratic elements that
are important for understanding the character of its manuscript collection.
The contents of the Cave 4 scroll collection have been the subject of two
recent major studies, by Devorah Dimant and Charlotte Hempel.30 I will briefly
summarize their conclusions before adding my own observations.
Dimant, while offering an overview of the entire collection, notes the central
position of Cave 4, which contained 74% of the recovered manuscripts.31 She
divides the collection into five groupings, all of which were present in Cave 4:
a) biblical manuscripts; b) sectarian literature, which she defines as works con-
taining particular terminology, style, and ideas linked with the life and ideol-
ogy of the Qumran community; c) non-sectarian texts; d) intermediary texts,
which do not contain sectarian terminology but have affinity with sectarian
ideas; and e) Aramaic literature. Dimant emphasizes a curatorial process of
“tendentious selection and exclusion.”32 She suggests that Cave 4, because it
contains specimens from all five groups and its position vis-à-vis the Qumran
buildings, served as a library for the community.33

29  This includes books which date from the third century BCE onwards, such as the Enoch
literature, Tobit and Jubilees. The exceptions are works supportive of the Hasmonean re-
gime and clearly Pharisaic compositions. See Crawford, “The Qumran Collection,” 120–22.
30  Devorah Dimant, “The Qumran Manuscripts: Contents and Significance,” in History,
Ideology and Bible Interpretation in the Dead Sea Scrolls, FAT 90 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck,
2014), 27–56. This is an updated version of her original article, published in Time to
Prepare the Way in the Wilderness, ed. Devorah Dimant and Lawrence H. Schiffman, STDJ
16 (Leiden: Brill, 1995), 23–58. Charlotte Hempel, “ ‘Haskalah’ at Qumran: The Eclectic
Character of Qumran Cave 4,” in eadem, The Qumran Rule Texts in Context, TSAJ 154,
Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013), 303–38.
31  Dimant, “Qumran Manuscripts,” 36.
32  Dimant, “Qumran Manuscripts,” 31, 38.
33  Dimant, “Qumran Manuscripts,” 36, 40.
Qumran Cave 4 113

Hempel in her very title, “ ‘Haskalah’ at Qumran: The Eclectic Character

of Qumran Cave 4,” emphasizes the diverse nature of the Cave 4 collection.
While acknowledging the connections of Cave 4 with the manuscripts found
in the other Qumran caves, she recognizes its distinctive elements. The fifty-
five mostly papyrus texts written in cryptic script form one idiosyncratic ele-
ment in the collection. She notes that access to this material would have been
“highly selective and restrictive.”34 Another distinctive element in the Cave 4
collection addressed by Hempel is the large number of calendar texts discov-
ered there, texts that would have required a high degree of technical expertise
in their readers.35 Hempel also argues for a particular connection between the
contents of Cave 4 and the office of the Maskil, pointing especially to the texts
in cryptic script and the calendrical literature.36
Other characteristics of the Cave 4 collection that Hempel brings out are
the multiple attestations of many compositions, often in different forms,
and the “workaday quality” of a number of texts.37 In conclusion, Hempel ar-
gues that Cave 4 “comprises the most eclectic and scholarly corner of the col-
lection,” and was “the learned hub of the Qumran elite.”38
Dimant’s study demonstrates the breadth of the Cave 4 collection, while
Hempel highlights some of its unique elements. Another important observa-
tion is that, according to both paleographic and C-14 dates, Cave 4 preserves
the full range of manuscript dates found at Qumran. It contains the oldest
manuscripts in the entire Qumran corpus, from the mid-third century BCE,
while also containing manuscripts from the second half of the first century CE,
and all the periods in between.39

34  Hempel, “Haskalah,” 316.

35  Hempel, “Haskalah,” 319–29.
36  Hempel, “Haskalah,” 317–19.
37  Hempel, “Haskalah,” 330–31, 332–33.
38  Hempel, “Haskalah,” 336, 337.
39  According to Webster’s index, there are five manuscripts, all from Cave 4, whose date
ranges fall in the mid- to late third century BCE: 4QExod-Levf, 4QSamb, 4QpaleoDeuts,
4QJera, and 4QEnastra ar. Brian Webster, “Chronological Index of the Texts from the
Judaean Desert,” in The Texts from the Judaean Desert: Indices and an Introduction to the
Discoveries in the Judaean Desert Series, ed. Emanuel Tov, DJD 39 (Oxford: Clarendon,
2002), 351–446, 378. For the first century manuscripts, see Webster, “Chronological Index,”
351–446. Stökl ben Ezra has demonstrated that the Cave 4 manuscript collection as a
whole is statistically older (along with Cave 1) than those of the other Qumran manu-
script caves. He suggests on that basis that there were two sub-collections in Cave 4, the
first deposited prior to the fire in 9–8 BCE, and the second at the time of the Roman attack
in 68 CE. Daniel Stökl ben Ezra, “Old Caves, Young Caves: A Statistical Reevaluation of a
114 White Crawford

Like Hempel, I believe that the unique elements of the Cave 4 collection are
important clues for determining what it was, and why and when it was depos-
ited in the cave. There are four elements I would like to highlight: 1) the oldest
manuscripts in the collection; 2) the number of single copy works; 3) the pres-
ence of esoteric texts requiring specialized knowledge; and 4) “working” texts,
such as student exercises and brief lists. Some of the items to be discussed will
fall into more than one category.40

The Oldest Manuscripts in the Collection

As noted above, Cave 4 contained an unusually high proportion of paleo-

graphically older manuscripts, certainly older than the site of Qumran itself.
The general consensus among archaeologists now is that the Second Temple
settlement at Qumran began c. 100–75 BCE.41 Accepting that date, at least 79
manuscripts in the Aramaic square script, 5 paleo-Hebrew manuscripts, and
one Greek manuscript can be dated prior to 100 BCE.42 That means that at
least 85 manuscripts (about one-fifth of the Cave 4 collection) are older than
the settlement and were brought from elsewhere to the region of Qumran. The
majority of these manuscripts (52) are classic Jewish literature (also known as
“scriptural” or “biblical”). However, fully 39 fall into Dimant’s categories b-e.
Of these, nine are classified by Dimant as b, sectarian.43 This indicates that
the sectarian group that composed and/or copied these sectarian texts was
already in existence prior to the founding of Qumran; thus the scroll collection
cannot be tied solely to the settlement, even though Cave 4 is firmly within
the archaeological parameters of the settlement. That is, because these scrolls
were brought from outside and are older than the settlement, we must assume
that the group who owned them is older than the settlement, and that Qumran

Qumran Consensus,” DSD 14 (2007): 313–33, 316. But that “two distinct deposits” scenario
is unnecessary; rather, scrolls could have been deposited in Cave 4 continuously over the
length of its usage.
40  It is important to remember that, as we catalogue works by various means, we do not
have the entire collection as it existed in antiquity. There is good evidence that Cave 4 was
disturbed between the time of the final deposit of manuscripts and its discovery in 1952.
See Taylor, “Buried Manuscripts,” 299.
41  See Jodi Magness, The Archaeology of Qumran and the Dead Sea Scrolls, SDSSRL (Grand
Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002), 68–69.
42  According to the lists of Webster, “Chronological Lists,” 419–34. I have not included the
Cryptic A manuscripts, whose paleographical dating is much less certain, in this count.
43  Dimant, “Qumran Manuscripts,” 41–48.
Qumran Cave 4 115

is only one of the places where they were located. At the same time, according
to the testimony of de Vaux, Milik and Cross, the Cave 4 scrolls were not found
in layers according to age (with the most recent manuscripts on top and the
older ones underneath), but mixed together. Thus we cannot determine if
the older scrolls were placed in the cave earlier, or separately. It is possible that
this was the case, but unfortunately it is not provable now.

Single Copy Works44

Cave 4 had a large number of single copy works, from all parts of its collec-
tion. From the classical literature there are single copies of Kings (4Q54),
Lamentations (4Q111), Ezra-Nehemiah (4Q117), and Chronicles (4Q118).45
From general Jewish literature of the period we find single copies of many
different genres of texts. The following list is by no means complete, but in-
cludes targums to Leviticus and Job (4Q157, 158), various types of parabiblical
literature, such as the Vision of Samuel (4Q160) or the Admonition on the Flood
(4Q370), and liturgical texts such as Personal Prayer (4Q443) or Purification
Liturgy (4Q284). There are also texts that have been identified as wisdom texts,
including the Wiles of the Wicked Woman (4Q184). Many single copy works
have been labeled “sectarian.” These include the pesharim on Micah, Nahum,
and Zephaniah (4Q168–170). There are also several single copy anthologies like
the Testimonia (4Q175). A number of single copy works may be termed esoter-
ic, that is, requiring specialized knowledge or interest, such as Zodiology and
Brontology ar (4Q318) and Physiognomy/Horoscope (4Q561). Finally, there are
collections of laws and rules, such as Miscellaneous Rules (4Q265).

44  Although I am emphasizing here works that occur in single copies, the presence of works
that occur in multiple copies is equally important, indicating as it does the desire of the
collectors to preserve as many examples as possible of what must have been important
texts in their worldview. As examples from all parts of the collection, Cave 4 contained at
least 23 copies of Deuteronomy, 12 copies of various books of 1 Enoch, 9 copies of Jubilees,
10 copies of the Serekh ha-Yaḥad, and 8 copies of the Damascus Document. See also
Hempel, “Haskalah,” 329–31.
45  According to Emanuel Tov, Revised Lists of the Texts from the Judaean Desert (Leiden: Brill,
2010), 28–32. Recently, Qumran-like fragments have been bought by private collectors
from the Kando family, who claim they came from Cave 4. These include two fragments
of Kings (Schøyen MS 5440, DSS F.Kgs 1; SWBTS Kings, DSS F.Kings) and two fragments of
Nehemiah (Schøyen MS 5426, DSS F.Neh 1; GC 11, DSS F.Neh 2). However, the provenance
of these fragments is quite uncertain.
116 White Crawford

The presence of all these single copy works points to the working quality
of the Cave 4 collection.46 By “working quality” I am referring to two different
things. The first is the desire of a scholarly community to have as complete a
collection as possible; thus the presence of literary works that otherwise did
not figure prominently in the Qumran collection as a whole.47 The second is
the draft-like quality of some of these works, such as 4Q175, which is a simple
collection of passages around a theme.48 These qualities point to the learned
scribal character of the Cave 4 collection.

Esoteric Texts

We know from the study of Mesopotamian textual troves found by excavators

in situ that scribes collected works pertaining to their specializations, includ-
ing astronomical/calendrical lore and augury/divination. At a house in Uruk
occupied by two families of scribes in the fifth-fourth centuries BCE, tablets
were discovered containing incantations and medical texts. The library in the
Shamash Temple in Sippar contained omens, incantations, and mathemati-
cal and astronomical texts.49 The presence of the same types of texts in the
Cave 4 collection is striking. They include nineteen examples of calendrical
texts, including the mishmarot, the copies of Astronomical Enoch, a horo-
scope (4Q186), an exorcism (4Q560), an incantation (4Q444), and the previ-
ously mentioned 4Q318 and 4Q561. The occurrence of the cryptic script texts
also points to specialized, esoteric knowledge. The presence of these docu-
ments in Cave 4 indicates to my mind the scribal character of this collection;

46  Two of the works listed above are classified by Hempel as having a “workaday quality”:
4Q265 and 4Q175. Hempel, “Haskalah,” 332–33.
47  See also Mladen Popović, “Qumran as Scroll Storehouse in Times of Crisis? A Comparative
Perspective on Judaean Desert Manuscript Collections,” JSJ 43 (2012): 551–94 at 554, who
notes the “scholarly, school-like collection of predominantly literary texts.”
48  This was also noted by Annette Steudel, Der Midrasch zur Eschatologie aus der
Qumrangemeinde (4QMidrEschata, b): Materielle Rekonstruktion, Textbestand, Gattung,
traditionsgeschichtliche Einordnung des durch 4Q174 (“Florilegium”) und 4Q177 (“Catena A”)
repräsentierten Werkes aus den Qumranfunden, STDJ 13 (Leiden: Brill, 1994), 178–81, and
Popović, “Qumran as Scroll Storehouse,” 577, who suggests that texts such as these may
represent “personal scholarly notes.” Many of the so-called “biblical” texts may in fact be
simple anthologies of passages; for examples see 4QDeutj, 4QDeutn, and 4QRPd, e (4Q366
and 367).
49  See Crawford, “The Qumran Collection as a Scribal Library,” 110, 114–15, for discussion and
bibliography.
Qumran Cave 4 117

these are the types of texts that only highly trained scholar scribes would
have possessed.50

“Working” Texts

We have already suggested that some of the single copy manuscripts found in
Cave 4, such as 4Q175, had a draft-like quality, indicating that they were work-
ing notes of some kind. We can add to the list of draft-like documents, be-
ginning with the three scribal exercises found in Cave 4: 4Q234, 341 and 360.51
These three documents were penned by apprentice scribes; 4Q234 contains
short words written in three different directions, 4Q341 preserves a series of
letters and some names, and 4Q360 is again written in different directions and
repeats the name “Menachem” three times.
Other draft-like documents include the List of Netinim (4Q340), List of
False Prophets (4Q339), and Rebukes Reported by the Overseer (4Q477). I have
argued elsewhere that the presence of these scribbled exercises and notes in
Cave 4 indicates the local nature of the collection; that is, it is highly unlikely
that such draft-like documents would have been transported to Qumran from
Jerusalem or elsewhere. Their place of origin must have been Qumran.52 Here I
would emphasize that their presence indicates that the site of Qumran (which
includes Cave 4) had an active scribal contingent living there during the first
century BCE through its destruction in 68 CE.

Conclusions

By examining the collection through the lens of the four categories above, the
breadth of the Cave 4 corpus becomes clear. Given the age of a portion of
the manuscripts, one can argue that this collection was the product of a long-
term collection process, which stretched from at least the beginning of the first
century BCE, when the oldest manuscripts began to be assembled (according

50  Hempel, “Haskalah,” 319, argues for the connection of this aspect of the collection, espe-
cially the cryptic script and calendar texts, with the Maskil. This is possible, but requires a
rather large leap from the references we have to this leadership figure to stating that part
of the Cave 4 collection consists of a “Maskil collection.”
51  See Stephen J. Pfann et al., Qumran Cave 4.XXVI: Cryptic Texts and Miscellanea: Part 1, DJD
36 (Oxford: Clarendon, 2000), 185–86, 291–93, 297.
52  Crawford, “The Qumran Collection as a Scribal Library,” 129.
118 White Crawford

to the archaeology of both Cave 4 and the settlement at Qumran), through

the late first century BCE. Because we do not know the place of origin of the
pre-100 BCE manuscripts, we cannot say with certainty where this collection
process began, but it certainly continued at Qumran.
The large number of single-copy works, some of which are also esoteric
texts or what I have termed “draft-like” texts, points to the working quality of
the Cave 4 collection. That is, this collection was not a frozen relic of a collec-
tion brought from elsewhere to be hidden in the caves, as several scholars have
suggested,53 but was a living collection, being used and added to up until its
final deposit in the caves.
Putting the archaeology of Caves 4a and 4b together with an examination
of the manuscripts discovered in them allows for certain conclusions to be
drawn. The fact that Cave 4b was used as a dwelling cave indicates that that
was more than likely the original purpose of Cave 4a as well. However, 4a was
not used as a dwelling cave for long, if at all. The fact that scroll manuscripts
were packed into the cave, beginning on its floor and in its niches, indicates
that its primary use was for storage. If there were shelves in the cave in antiq-
uity, which would indicate an orderly placement of scrolls that could later be
easily located and retrieved, no certain evidence for them exists. Rather, the
testimony of de Vaux, Milik and Cross (and the Bedouin) pictures a more hap-
hazard deposit, with no discernible order.
The pre-100 BCE dates of 25% of the Cave 4 manuscripts show a collection that
began to form at least a century before the earliest pottery from the cave, which
is late Hasmonean. Thus, the cave was not the original home of that part of the
collection, and we may extrapolate that the same is true for other manuscripts
in the corpus. On the other hand, the working quality of many of the manu-
scripts, especially the student exercises, argues for a nearby origin. The most
likely place is the settlement at Qumran; Cave 4 is part of its archaeological
landscape, and the marl caves on its plateaus were used as dwelling caves.54

53  For various scenarios, see, e.g., Norman Golb, “Khirbet Qumran and the Manuscript Finds
of the Judaean Wilderness,” in Methods of Investigation of the Dead Sea Scrolls and the
Khirbet Qumran Site: Present Realities and Future Prospects, ed. Michael O. Wise et al. (New
York: New York Academy of Science, 1994), 51–72; Yizhak Magen and Yuval Peleg, “Back
to Qumran: Ten Years of Excavation and Research, 1993–2004,” in The Site of the Dead
Sea Scrolls: Archaeological Interpretations and Debates, ed. Katharina Galor, Jean-Baptiste
Humbert, and Jürgen Zangenberg, STDJ 57 (Leiden: Brill, 2006), 55–116; and Stacey and
Doudna, Qumran Revisited.
54  Sidnie W. Crawford, “Qumran: Caves, Scrolls and Buildings,” in A Teacher for All
Generations: Essays in Honor of James C. VanderKam, ed. Eric F. Mason et al., JSJSup 153
(Leiden: Brill, 2012), 253–74 and bibliography there.
Qumran Cave 4 119

Thus, the following highly plausible scenario may be sketched: Caves 4a

and 4b were dug or reexcavated at the beginning of the first century BCE as
dwelling caves, at the same time as the first phase of the Qumran buildings.
At some point in time, perhaps as early as the mid-first century BCE, Cave 4a
may have begun to be used as storage for older or surplus manuscripts from
the settlement, where, among other activities, scribal work was taking place.
At the time of the Roman destruction of Qumran in 68 CE, the bulk of the
manuscript collection from the buildings was taken up and deposited in Cave
4a (conveniently close), in some degree of haste and disorganization. This sce-
nario accounts for both the age of the collection and its large concentration
of single-copy, working quality texts (including texts demanding specialized,
esoteric knowledge), as well as the unsystematic layers of scrolls found in the
deposit levels of Cave 4a.
 Part 2
Fresh Perspectives on Fragmentary Scrolls

∵
Un nouveau manuscrit de Daniel : 4QDnf = 4Q116a
Émile Puech

Au cours du travail d’édition des manuscrits hébreux et araméens du ‘lot

Starcky’ et de ma quête de fragments parmi les nombreuses bribes non identi-
fiées de la grotte 4 de Qumrân pouvant, à défaut d’un joint direct, appartenir à
l’un d’eux, j’ai pu procéder à l’identification d’un certain nombre de ces bribes.
Ces identifications sont venues grossir quelque peu des planches des trois vo-
lumes des Discoveries in the Judaean Desert XXV, XXXI et XXXVII, et quelques
autres ont fait l’objet de notes séparées. Mais un petit fragment n’avait cessé de
m’intriguer. Il s’agit de PAM 42.447, deuxième rangée, le quatrième à partir de
la droite = PAM 43.694 58. Comme le déchiffrement que j’en faisais m’orientait
vers des restes d’un manuscrit biblique araméen, il ne pouvait être intégré aux
manuscrits du lot dont je devais préparer l’édition. Depuis lors à l’occasion,
j’ai essayé de rechercher d’autres fragments pouvant appartenir à cette même
copie du manuscrit biblique. À première vue, un autre petit fragment de PAM
42.082, deuxième rangée, le quatrième à partir de la droite = PAM 43.694 56
se rapprochait de ce type de main.1 Mais à y voir de plus près, ce dernier a
été identifié comme un fragment hébreu d’une copie de 4QRoisb-4Q54b ou à
une copie du texte parallèle de 4QIss-4Q69c, le départage n’a pas été possible, à
moins d’une citation dans un autre manuscrit, ce qui paraît moins probable.2
Dans ce cas, il était recommandé de commencer par celui des deux autres
dont l’identification paraissait la plus plus assurée : PAM 42.447 = PAM 43.694
58. Le fragment mesure 1,5 cm de hauteur et 0,7 cm de largeur maximale. Il
porte des traces de trois lignes d’écriture, des interlignes de circa 0,7 et 0,75 cm,

1  Voir une approche similaire et indépendante dans Unidentified Fragments : Qumran Cave
4.XXIII, ed. Dana M. Pike and Andrew C. Skinner with a Contribution by Terrence L. Szink,
DJD 33 (Oxford : Clarendon, 2001), pl. XXXIII, et p. 251, suite à l’arrangement sur cette même
planche par l’équipe éditoriale dans les premières années du travail : « Frgs. 56-58 appear to
be part of the same manuscript due to the similarities in the colour and texture of the leather,
and the scribal hand, which resembles a Herodian-style script ». Mais p. 254, les auteurs ne
donnent aucune transcription de ces deux fragments, se contentant de quelques lettres
du fragment 57, pouvant laisser supposer que les deux autres ont été identifiés et intégrés
ailleurs.
2  Voir Émile Puech, « Nouvelles identifications de manuscrits bibliques dans la grotte 4 :
4QRoisa (4Q54a) et 4QRoisb-4Q54b(?) ou 4QIss-4Q69c(?) », RevQ 99 (2012) : 467-72, 469-72.
Quant au fragment PAM 43.694 57 qui a été rapproché de ces derniers, rapprochement retenu
par Pike and Skinner, il reste encore non identifié, mais il n’appartient pas à Daniel.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ���7 | doi ��.��63/9789004344532_008

124 Puech

Photo 1 PAM 42.447.

hauteur des lettres (kaf) 0,4 cm. Le fragment semble bien être réglé à la pointe
sèche, comme il apparaît à la ligne 2 (voir photographie 1).
Les quelques lettres préservées ne permettent pas une datation paléogra-
phique trop fine, mais le kaf médian à tête étroite et longue base horizontale
et à jambage à peine cambré, ainsi que le nun médian à jambage cambré se
rangent assez bien dans une écriture hasmonéenne tardive ou début héro-
dienne, soit circa la deuxième moitié du premier siècle avant J.-C. Lire ainsi
ces restes :

[‫ ] מנ‬1
[◦ ‫ ]לכו‬2
[◦‫ ]ל‬3

Notes de lecture :

L. 1 : Le mem est de lecture certaine, et le nun au jambage cambré est de lecture
probable, très difficilement bet.
L. 2 : Le lamed est certain, hampe au départ en boucle arrondie et trace de
l’extrémité du pied. Le kaf à tête réduite et à longue base est certain, et le waw
à tête ramassée est très probable, mais difficilement yod. Puis à la cassure sont
encore visibles de bonnes traces de lettre, apparemment en deux portions, alef
(les écailles en bord de cassure privent de la certitude du tracé en deux fois
pour un alef ) ou continu avec une écaille de la surface pour une autre lettre,
Un nouveau manuscrit de Daniel 125

dalet, etc. C’est une des deux lettres douteuses mais la plus importante pour
l’identification de ce fragment.
L. 3 : Sous les restes à la cassure de la ligne 2, la hampe de lamed dont le
départ est indistinct, est de lecture assurée, suivie d’un départ de trait, alef, he,
nun, ou ‘?’.
Cette lecture pourrait répondre à une séquence araméenne du livre de
Daniel 2,39-40, mais non à Dn 7,22-23 pour la proximité du départ du trait à
gauche de la hampe du lamed, lecture à comprendre ainsi dans une mise en
colonne d’environ 12 cm de largeur d’après le texte massorétique (voir figure 1) :

‫ובתרך תקום מלכו אחרי ארעא] מנ[ך ומלכו תליתיא אחרי די‬ 1
‫נחשא די תשלט בכל ארעא ומ]לכו ר[ביעיה תהוא תקיפה כפרזלא‬ 2
‫כל קבל די פרזלא מהדק וחשל כ]לא[ וכפרזלא די מרעע כל אלין‬ 3
‫תדק ותרע כל ארעא‬ 4

Figure 1 4QDnf–4Q116a.

Cette mise en colonne ne permet pas de savoir avec précision si le manuscrit

lisait ‫ ארעא‬comme il semblerait probable avec le TM (ketîb) ou ‫ ארע‬avec le
qeré attendu, comme le reflètent le grec ο΄ ἐλάττων σου et θ΄ ἥττων σου. Tout en
notant que la lecture paléographique de reš à la ligne 2 est loin d’être assurée,
cette mise en colonne ne permettrait pas de lire le texte araméen plus court
de la version grecque ο΄ de Dn 2,40 : ‫ומ]לכו א[חרי‬, pour retrouver un aligne-
ment avec [‫ כ]לא‬à la ligne suivante.3 Cette constatation pourrait en elle-même
être une indication précieuse pour la lecture du verset, quoi qu’il en soit de
2,40bβ à la fin de la ligne 3 : ‫ וכפרזלא די מרעע כל אלין‬avec le TM (voir ci-dessous)

3  Une rétroversion du grec ο΄ permettrait-elle de retrouver une autre possibilité au lieu de

‫ כ]ל א[רעא‬à la ligne 3, sans séparation des mots, tout en lisant ‫ ומ]לכו א[חרי‬à la ligne 2, en
lisant [‫( ? כל אי]לן‬voir ci-dessous).
126 Puech

ou sans ses additions, et 2,40bγ, voir le grec ο΄, θ΄,4 la Peshiṭta,5 la Vulgate. La
comparaison avec 4Q112-4QDna permettrait alors de proposer une restauration
acceptable.
Mais une autre mise en colonne est tout aussi possible sinon bien préférable
en s’appuyant sur la Vorlage du grec ο΄, pour une largeur de colonne de 10 cm
(voir figure 2) :

‫ דהבא ובתרך תקום מלכו ארעא] מנ[ך ומלכו אחרי די‬1

‫ נחשא די תשלט בכל ארעא ומ]לכו א[חרי תהוא תקיפה‬2
‫ כפרזלא די מרעע כלא וקץ כל אי]לן[ ותזועין כל ארעא‬3

Figure 2 4QDnf–4Q116a.

En effet, la lecture de alef à la cassure de la ligne 2 paraît plus vraisemblable

avec, semble-t-il, des restes du départ du jambage droit et le bas de l’axe légère-
ment convexe. Cette restauration supporte alors le texte grec de ο΄ à l’exception
de ‫ די מרעע כלא‬traduisant mieux ὁ δαμάζων πάντα et non ὁ πρίζων πάντα.6 Mais
cette dernière lecture ne laisse pas d’interroger dans la logique de la phrase :
comment peut-on « couper tout arbre » (καὶ πᾶν δένδρον ἐκκόπων) après avoir
« tout scié » à moins d’une métathèse accidentelle, alors qu’avec la lecture ὁ
δαμάζων πάντα, le sens paraît plus recevable, sans redondance ou pur doublet ?
Quoi qu’il en soit, si le TM ne peut prétendre avoir conservé le texte primitif,

4  Voir Josef Ziegler, ed., Susanna : Daniel : Bel et Draco, Editio secunda versionis iuxta LXX in-
terpretes textum plane novum constituit Olivier Munnich, Versionis iuxta „Theodotionem“
fragmenta adiecit Deftel Fraenkel, SVTG XVI/2 (Göttingen : Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1999),
256-57.
5  Voir Anthony Gelston, Daniel and Bel and the Dragon, prepared by The Peshiṭta Institute
on the basis of material collected and studied by Th. Sprey, in Dodekapropheton – Daniel-
Bel-Draco, The Old Testament in Syriac III/4 (Leiden : Brill, 1980), 5-6.
6  Voir Munnich, Susanna : Daniel : Bel et Draco, 256 note 4, où la leçon du Pap. 967 (πρίζων) est
tenue pour authentique, mais une variante est attestée par plusieurs témoins.
Un nouveau manuscrit de Daniel 127

la Vorlage de ο΄ semble devoir être du type reconstruit ci-dessus e.g., qu’on lise
‫ וגד‬ou mieux ‫( וקץ‬voir Dn 4,11.20, 1QApGn-1Q20 XIII 9-11, XIX 15-16), et mieux
refléter le texte original. En effet, la mention de « troisième royaume » et
de « quatrième royaume » sans la/es mention/s de (« premier » et de)
« deuxième = autre » surprend quelque peu. Quant à la structure de la fin du
v. 40, voir 1 Hen 1,5 conservé en 4Q201 1a-b 7 : – ‫ ויזו[עון‬καὶ σεισθήσονται dit « des
extrémités de la terre » ‫כ]ל קצו[י ארעה‬,7 où l’araméen a le sens actif « toutes les
extrémités de la terre vacilleront », alors que la traduction grecque a rendu par
le passif « toutes les extrémités de la terre seront ébranlées ». Il semble que ce
soit aussi le cas dans ce passage de Dn 2,40. Dans ce cas, ce fragment, seul reste
de cette leçon araméenne de Dn 2,39-40, serait un témoin de la Vorlage du grec
ο΄, texte plus bref que le TM, ce qui mérite d’être relevé.
Quoi qu’il en soit, le fragment recoupe le passage conservé par 4Q112-4QDna
frgs 3 ii, 4-6, lignes 7-9, qui est, lui, du type TM. Est donnée ci-dessous une mise
en colonne de l’ensemble de ces fragments ayant conservé des restes de Dn
2,33-46, qui demande quelques précisions de l’édition8 (voir figure 3) :

7  Voir Émile Puech, « Notes sur le manuscrit araméen 4Q201 = 4QHénocha. À propos d’un livre
récent », RevQ 96 (2010) : 627-49, 629-30.
8  Eugene Ulrich, « 112. 4QDana », in Qumran Cave 4.XI : Psalms to Chronicles, ed. Eugene Ulrich
et alii, DJD 16 (Oxford : Clarendon, 2000), 239-54, 246-48, repris dans Eugene Ulrich, The
Biblical Qumran Scrolls : Transcriptions and Textual Variants, VTSup 134 (Leiden : Brill, 2010),
758-59. À défaut, la restauration a suivi le plus souvent le TM, même si par endroits il pour-
rait y avoir quelques variantes orthographiques, e.g. ‫ רישה‬pour ‫( ראשה‬ligne 6, voir frg. 3 i
17 = 2,32, etc., mais cela n’affecte pas l’ensemble du texte transmis, le copiste étant lui-même
inconsistant dans l’orthographe des he et alef en particulier, mais aussi ‫ באד[ין‬en 2,35 et ‫אדין‬
en 2,46 (comparer le TM). La peau de la partie droite du frg. 5 est assez déformée affectant
l’horizontalité des lignes et donc aussi les espaces. Ainsi reconstruite, la largeur de la colonne
est identique à celle de la précédente, circa 10,5-11 cm.
 ‫‪128‬‬ ‫‪Puech‬‬

‫‪marge supérieure‬‬
‫‪ 1‬חסף ‪34‬חזה הוית עד אתג[זרת אבן די לא בידין ומחת לצלמא על רגלוהי די פרזלא]‬
‫‪ 2‬וחספא והדקת המון ‪35‬באד[ין דקו כחדה פרזלא חספא נחשא כספא ודהבא]‬
‫‪ 3‬והוה כעור[ מן ]אדר קי[ט ונשא המון רוחא וכל אתר לא השתכח להון ואבנא די]‬
‫‪ 4‬מ[חת ]ל[צ]ל[מא ]ה[ות ל]טור רב[ ומלאת כל ארעא ‪36‬דנה חלמא ופשרה נאמר קדם מלכא]‬
‫‪37[ 5‬אנתה מלכא ]מלך מלכיא די [אלה שמיא מלכותא חסנא ותקפא ויקרא יהב לך ‪38‬ובכל]‬
‫‪[ 6‬די דירין בני אנ]שא חיות ברא[ ועוף שמיא יהב בידך והשלטך בכלהון אנתה הוא ראשה]‬
‫‪[ 7‬די דהבא ‪39‬ובתרך ת]קום מל[כו אח]רי[ ארע מנך ומלכו תליתיה אחרי די נחשא די תשלט]‬
‫‪[ 8‬בכל ארעא ‪40‬ומלכו רביעיה תהוא ת]ק[י]פ[ה כ]פר[זלא כל קבל די פרזלא מהדק וחשל כלא]‬
‫‪[ 9‬כפרזלא די מ]רעע כל א[לן ⟨תדק?⟩ ותר[ע כל ארעא ‪41‬ודי חז[יתה רגליא ואצבעתא מנהם]‬
‫‪[ 10‬חסף די פחר ]ומנהם פרזל מ[לכו פליגה ]תהוא ומן נצבתא[ ד]י פרז[לא להוא בה כל קבל די]‬
‫‪[ 11‬חזיתה פרזל]א מערב בחסף[ טינא ‪42‬ואצבע]ת רגליא מנהם פרזל[ ומנהם חסף מן קצת]‬
‫‪[ 12‬מלכותא תה]וא תקיפה [ומנה תהוא תביר]ה ‪43‬ודי חזית פרזלא [מערב בחסף טינא מתערבין]‬
‫‪[ 13‬להון בזר]ע אנשא ולא להון ד[בקין] דנה עם דנה הכא די פרז[לא לא מתערב עם]‬
‫‪[ 14‬חספא ‪44‬וביו]מיהון די מלכי[א אנון יקי]ם[ א]ל[ה ]שמיא מלכו די[ ]ל[עלמין לא תתחבל]‬
‫‪[ 15‬ומ]לכ[ו]ת[א לעם אחרן ]לא תש[תבק תדק ותסיף כ]ל[ א]לן מל[כותא והיא תקום לעלמיא ‪45‬כל‬
‫קבל]‬
‫‪[ 16‬ד]י חזית די מ[טורא התגזרת אבן די לא בידין והדקת פרזלא נחשא חספא כספא]‬
‫‪ 17‬ודהבא אלה רב[ הודע למלכא מה די להוא אחרי דנה ויציב חלמא ומהימן פשרה]‬
‫‪46‬אדין מלכ[א נבוכדנצר נפל על אנפוהי ולדניאל סגד ומנחה וניחחין (אמר)‬ ‫‪ 18‬‬
‫‪marge inférieure‬‬

‫‪Notes de lecture :‬‬

‫‪ de l’éditeur,9 comme le demande‬אנת ‪, non‬אנתה ‪À la ligne 5, v. 37, restaurer‬‬

‫‪ dans ce manuscrit et dans cette colonne.‬חזית ‪ et‬חזיתה ‪l’espace, voir les formes‬‬
‫‪À la ligne 8, sur la photographie B-362014/5, bas du jambage de qof et de la‬‬
‫‪base de pe. À la ligne 9, v. 40, il n’est matériellement pas possible de lire les‬‬
‫‪ à moins d’une correction supra-linéaire, lire donc au‬תדק ותר]ע ‪deux verbes‬‬
‫‪, comme à la ligne‬א[לן ‪, et probablement sans le yod à‬כל א[לן ⟨תדק?⟩ ותר]ע ‪mieux‬‬
‫‪15 de lecture certaine.10 Puis v. 41, restes de la tête de zaïn à gauche du ḥet dans‬‬
‫‪ est nécessaire pour un alignement correct‬ואצבעתא ‪. Enfin, la lecture‬חז[ית)ה(‬

‫‪9  Voir Ulrich, Qumran Cave 4.XI, 246-47.‬‬

‫‪10  Ulrich, Qumran Cave 4.XI, 247, lit le premier des deux verbes coordonnés sur la ligne et le‬‬
‫‪yod de l’orthographe pleine. Il arrive à ce copiste de corriger, voir par exemple frg. 3 i 7, le‬‬
‫‪seul he de correction pour le hafʿel comme en 2,27, et le plus fréquent dans le TM, et 3 i 8,‬‬
‫יהוד{יה} ‪ avec les deuxièmes yod et he (au tracé assuré, non alef ) pointés pour lire‬יהודיה‬
‫‪avec le TM, le grec et la Peshiṭta, tout comme en Dn 5,13 et 6,14 (voir les explications con-‬‬
‫‪tournées de Ulrich, Qumran Cave 4.XI, 244-46, ici sans variante).‬‬
Un nouveau manuscrit de Daniel 129

Figure 3 4QDna-4Q112, frgs 3 ii 4-6 Photo PAM 42.447.

du passage, suivant en cela le TM, non selon le texte du grec ο΄.11 Il est possible
que la précision des « orteils » ait été reconnue pour la stabilité de la statue,
mot repris au v. 42, ligne 11. À la ligne 11, v. 42, traces de zaïn et du pied du lamed
de ‫פרזל‬, voir B-362015. À la ligne 13 sur PAM 41.204, restes de ‫פרז[לא‬. À la ligne
15, frg. 6, sur la petite bribe détachée de PAM 43.080 à rapprocher pour l’espace-
ment interlinéaire, lire une partie de la hampe et du pied du lamed et de la tête
du kaf, puis le bas du jambage droit de taw sur le fragment même. Ce fragment

11  
Contrairement à John J. Collins, Daniel : A Commentary on the Book of Daniel,
Hermeneia (Minneapolis : Augsburg Fortress, 1993), 166, note 133, et 169, note 158.
130 Puech

se situe de fait à la marge droite pour l’alignement dans le bas de la colonne, non
en retrait de l’édition.12
Aux variantes relevées par l’édition, ajouter en 2,40, le texte identique au
TM, ‫וכפרזלא די מ]רעע כל א[לן‬, plus long que le grec θ΄, et divergent en plu-
sieurs points de ο΄ à l’exception de la finale πᾶσα ἡ γῆ. À la ligne 1, il n’est pas
possible d’insérer ‫ מטורא‬attesté par le grec θ΄ et ο΄, à moins d’une correction
supra-linéaire.
Ajoutons quelques autres remarques sur ce manuscrit13 : au fragment 3
i 5, Dn 2,23, lire en toute certitude ‫ ונהירותא‬avec des restes du reš, waw, taw
et même de alef (PAM 43.437), voir le mot ‫ נהירו‬connu en Dn 5,11.14 dans un
contexte comparable, 4Q113 frgs 1-4 3 et 11, et à l’état emphatique en 4Q548 frgs
1 ii-2 14 « illumination »,14 une variante du TM, ‫ וגבורתא‬et du grec θ΄, contraire-
ment au parallèle du v. 20 dans ο΄. À la fin de la même ligne, lire certainement
]‫ די מל[ת מלכא הודעתנא כ]ל[ קב]ל[ ]דנ[ה‬avec le TM ; en replaçant le fragment
de gauche pour un joint correct et un alignement horizontal des lignes, il y
a matériellement la place pour cette lecture sans avoir à envisager une autre
proposition.15 De même à la ligne 6, on ne peut lire [‫ דניאל על[ אריו]ך‬avec les
auteurs,16 mais bien [‫דניאל על על[ אריו]ך‬, 4QDna est encore en accord avec le

12  Voir la description de Ulrich, Qumran Cave 4.XI, 247, et sa proposition de lecture dans
une reconstruction impossible. Il est possible que le verbe ‫ אמר‬ne soit pas au bas de la
colonne, mais au début de la suivante au frg. 7. Et à la ligne 9 du frg. 7, v. 3,2, lire sûrement
]‫ [גדרבי[א דבתר]יא‬avec une simple métathèse de ‫ גדבריא‬du TM non corrigée (voir les
propositions de Ulrich, Qumran Cave 4.XI, 249.
13  Voir ci-dessus note 10.
14  Voir Émile Puech, Qumrân Grotte 4.XXII : Textes araméens : Première partie 4Q529-549,
DJD 31 (Oxford : Clarendon, 2001), 394-97. Ulrich, Qumran Cave 4.XI, 244 et 246, suggére-
rait de lire peut-être ‫ונהירתא‬, grec ο΄ καὶ φρόνησιν, contrairement au parallèle du v. 20 dans
ο΄, et renvoie à ‫ ונהירא‬en Dn 2,22 (ketîb) et supra ligne 4.
15  Voir Ulrich, Qumran Cave 4.XI, 245, qui signale des variantes au début du v. 24 en grec ο΄
et θ’, mais aussi la Peshiṭta. Une photographie digitalisée P.3888-1-R gracieusement mise à
ma disposition par la Levy Dead Sea Scrolls Digital Library montre un point d’encre pour
la hampe d’un lamed possible entre yod et ḥet de la ligne 4, puis les départs de la tête du
dalet et du jambage du nun après la hampe du second lamed assuré. Le début du v. 24 est
identique au TM, demandant de rectifier la remarque de Ulrich, Qumran Cave 4.XI, 244-5.
16  Ulrich, Qumran Cave 4.XI, 244-46, et Collins, Daniel, 150, note 64, affirmant que le doublet/
dittographie ‫ על על‬n’est pas attesté en 4QDna tout comme il est est absent de quelques
manuscrits massorétiques. Mais en araméen biblique tout comme en araméen qum-
ranien et épigraphique, le verbe ‫ על‬au peʿal commande toujours la préposition ‫ על‬ou
‫ קדם‬avec les personnes, et -‫ ב‬ou -‫ ל‬avec un locatif, malgré la proposition de Cross, cité
par Collins (‫ )על[ לאריו]ך‬qui est une construction impossible, voir 1QApGn II 3, 4Q197
4 ii 8, 4Q206 4 i 13, Cowley 15 5. Pour la construction, on ne peut renvoyer (Ulrich) à Dn
2,17, de construction différente, et le verbe ‫ אזל‬commande généralement la préposition
Un nouveau manuscrit de Daniel 131

TM, en cela il est suivi par le syriaque ‫על לות‬, alors que les versions grecques
semblent avoir lu, ou plus simplement traduit . . . ‫ואזל דניאל על אריוך די‬. À la
ligne 12, v. 28, le fragment rejoint le grec ο΄, mais on ne peut pas savoir si 4QDna
portait ou pas une correction-addition supra-linéaire de ‫וחזוי ראשך‬.17 Au frg. 1 i-
2 8, lire très vraisemblablement ainsi le v. 1,21 : ] ‫ויהי דניאל עד שנת אח]ת לכ[ורש‬
‫במלכותו‬, les traces peuvent correspondre dans cette main à certains tracés de
taw et de kaf ensuite, puis le bet est assuré et l’espace convient parfaitement à
la restauration du nom propre.18 La variante du manuscrit avec le TM trouve
un bon parallèle en ο΄ : καὶ ἦν Δανιηλ ἕως τοῦ πρώτου ἔτους τῆς Κύρου βασιλείας.19
Dans l’ensemble, 4QDna appuie le TM dès le milieu du premier siècle avant
J.-C., ce qui n’est pas sans intérêt pour l’histoire de la transmission du texte.
Concernant 4Q113-4QDnb, deux notes semblent à propos. Au frg. 7 ii 13,
v. 6,18, lire en toute certitude ‫ושימת‬, en comparant la tête triangulaire du yod
au crochet de la tête du waw, voir ‫ די‬au-dessus, ligne 12, PAM 43.183, B-298157
et B-371037. On a affaire à une variante, un peʿîl au parfait féminin attendu
(ἐπετέθη du grec ο΄), non à une vocalisation du type puʿal du TM.20 Au frg. 14, la
lecture ‫ [קרנא‬à la ligne 2 est assurée et de même à la ligne 3 celle de ‫וש]אר‬, le
début du v. 7,12.21 Le placement de ce fragment au chapitre 7 est donc à retenir.
Quant à 4Q116-4QDne, frgs 4+2, à la ligne 1, il y a des restes de l’oblique du
gimel que rejoint le jambage du dalet pour lire ‫[רעה ]גד[ל]ה‬. À la ligne 4, il n’y
a pas d’espace suffisant pour insérer une variante textuelle avec quelques ma-
nuscrits hébreux, à la suite de l’éditeur ‫[הזאת ה]בא[ה‬.22 Lire tout simplement
‫ הזאת ]בא[ה‬avec le TM.23
En conclusion, l’identification d’un nouveau manuscrit du livre de Daniel
dans la grotte 4, 4QDnf-4Q116a, porte à neuf exemplaires les copies de ce livre

-‫ ל‬pour les personnes (voir cependant avec ‫על‬, Esd 4,23, 4Q202 1 iv 5, 4Q530 2 ii+ 6-12 22,
Cowley 27 3, 30,4/5, 42 8, Aḥiqar 75 et 168), mais où ‫ על‬n’a jamais le sens adversatif, con-
trairement à certaines affirmations.
17  Voir les nombreuses corrections de ce copiste (dont quelques unes relevées ci-dessus) pour
retrouver le texte du type TM et même la Vorlage de ο΄. Ulrich, Qumran Cave 4.XI, 244-45,
n’envisage pas cette possibilité, et explique une évolution du texte en quatre étapes.
18  Mais voir les discussions de Ulrich, Qumran Cave 4.XI, 242-43.
19  Cette lecture demande de rapporter ‫ האשפים‬à la fin de la ligne 7 pour une longueur con-
forme aux précédentes, voir Ulrich, Qumran Cave 4.XI, 242. On n’a pas à suivre la longue
proposition de F.M. Cross retenue par Collins, Daniel, 129, note 56.
20  Voir Ulrich, Qumran Cave 4.XI, 261-62, qui ne juge pas devoir distinguer. Le puʿal n’est pas
connu en araméen biblique (un hébraïsme du qeré ?).
21  Ulrich, Qumran Cave 4.XI, 265, proposerait ‫ויחי]בת‬, mais lecture matériellement
impossible.
22  Ulrich, Qumran Cave 4.XI, 288.
23  La relecture de 4QDnd pose d’autres difficultés qu’on ne peut résoudre dans cette note.
132 Puech

retrouvées à Qumrân : 1Q71-72, 4Q112-116a et 6Q7, et le fragment témoigne d’un

texte plus court dans ce passage. Cette modeste note veut honorer le professeur
George Brooke dans un volume d’hommage qui a pour thème « Is there a Text
in this Cave? ». La réponse est effectivement positive : l’identification d’un
autre manuscrit biblique à ajouter aux cinq autres copies de Daniel 24 dans la
grotte 4.

24  Je rappelle que pendant des siècles à Qumrân (voir 4Q174 1-3 ii 3) comme dans toute la
tradition manuscrite de la Bible grecque, le Nouveau Testament et Flavius Josèphe, Daniel
est compté au rang des Prophètes.
4Q341: A Writing Exercise Remembered
Joan E. Taylor

It is a pleasure to offer a contribution to a volume celebrating George Brooke,

who is not only someone I esteem for his considerable achievements, but also
for his attitude, which combines openness with a measured and judicious ap-
proach to everything he does. His mantra, “It’s Qumran/the Dead Sea Scrolls—
we are allowed to be wrong,” is often in my mind as I reflect on how Qumran
scholarship has developed over the decades, as we explore facets of this mys-
terious corpus and its archaeological context. Ever the scientific enquirer, he
has never been one to fight shy of controversial topics, and his article of 2005
on 4Q341 is a case in point.
The study of 4Q341 has had an uneven course. John Allegro published the
fragment in a preliminary edition in 1979, in a highly provocative book, The Dead
Sea Scrolls and the Christian Myth,1 in which the Dead Sea Scrolls were used
as a means of questioning tenets of Christianity. Dubbed 4QTherapeia, it was
considered by Allegro to be delving into pharmacology, or—really—drug use,
supporting theories he had developed in his volume, The Sacred Mushroom
and the Cross.2 James Charlesworth developed Allegro’s theory in a more medi-
cal direction in 1985, offering a new translation,3 but later changed his mind
and rejected his previous analysis.4 Joseph Naveh read the text quite differently
to Allegro, and presented it as a scribal exercise, both in a preliminary article
in 19865 and in the editio princeps in DJD 36, where it is renamed “Exercitium
Calami C.”6 For Naveh, the fragment is explained as a scrap piece of poor leath-
er which was utilised for an exercise in which there were a series of names,
and also “meaningless words and letters,” written down as a preliminary item

1  John Allegro, The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Christian Myth (Newton Abbot: Westbridge Books,
1979), Appendix 235–40, pl. 16–17.
2  John Allegro, The Sacred Mushroom and the Cross (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1970).
3  James H. Charlesworth, The Discovery of a Dead Sea Scroll (4QTherapeia): Its Importance in
the History of Medicine and Jesus Research (Lubbock: Texas Tech University Press, 1985).
4  James H. Charlesworth, “A Misunderstood Recently Published Dead Sea Scroll (4Q341),”
Explorations 1/2 (Philadelphia: American Institute for the Study of Religious Co-operation,
1987), 2.
5  Joseph Naveh, “A Medical Document or a Writing Exercise? The So-Called 4QTherapeia,” IEJ
36 (1986), 52–55.
6  Joseph Naveh, “Exercitium Calami C,” in Qumran Cave 4.XXVI, Cryptic Texts and Miscellanea:
Pt. 1, ed. Stephen J. Pfann et al., DJD 36 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000), 291–94.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ���7 | doi ��.��63/9789004344532_009

134 Taylor

of writing by an accomplished scribe, guided unconsciously by alphabetical

order, and done “before beginning to write in earnest.”7 Brooke boldly stepped
into the debate by picking up on a tone in Naveh’s identification of the frag-
ment as a scribal exercise that seemed to relegate it to minimal importance,
a “mere” exercise that was worthy of no further thought, stating “it seems ap-
propriate that at least a few further questions should be asked of this text to
see whether it might be possible to suggest what kind of scribal exercise it
could be.”8
In Brooke’s discussion, he asked: “just what might be taking place in this
scribe practising in the way he does?” given it is a combination of the practice
of letters, many in alphabetical order, and “the listing of proper names and
other words, some of which seem nonsensical, which appear in groups and are
also arranged alphabetically.”9 Brooke’s answer is to accept that it is a scribal
exercise, but also to explore medico-magical-mystical uses of alphabetic writ-
ing, including lists of names. Rather than thinking of just personal names, he
asks why a scribe might have written out names like these, and asks about the
types of scribes there might have been, wondering if this particular scribe is
“practising in order to equip himself for writing ‘magical’ texts,” perhaps like
the First Book of Cyranides.10
In this paper, written in his honour, I would like to take up George Brooke’s
questions and consider the fragment again. In the present discussion the key
question to be explored is whether the fragment should best be considered
in the light of evidence for the use of the “magic” of the alphabet, or wheth-
er it should be best understood within the category of writing/scribal exer-
cises. If both categories are equally plausible, then we may endorse Brooke’s
suggestion.

7  Naveh, “A Medical Document?” 53 .

8  George J. Brooke, “4Q341: An Exercise for Spelling and for Spells?” in Writing and
Ancient Near Eastern Society: Papers in Honour of Alan R. Millard, ed. Piotr Bienkowski,
Christopher B. Mee, and Elizabeth Slater, LHBOTS 426 (London: T&T Clark International,
2005), 271–82.
9  Brooke, “4Q341,” 272–4.
10  Brooke, “4Q341,” 277. The First Book of Cyranides was a magico-medical compendium
collated in the 4th century CE. See Dimitris Kaimakis, Die Kyraniden, Beiträge zur klas-
sischen Philologie 76 (Meisenheim am Glan: Hain, 1976); Maryse Waegeman, Amulet and
Alphabet: Magical Amulets in the First Book of Cyranides (Amsterdam: J.C. Gieben, 1987).
4Q341: A Writing Exercise Remembered 135

Reading the Fragment

The letters appear on a piece of leather/parchment 77 mm wide, 35–58 mm

high. It is a coarse piece with worm holes and a wrinkly surface at the bottom
left side. It is found almost whole in terms of its original state, as a purposely
cut snippet. It seems to be intact on the lower edge and both sides, but it is
damaged slightly at the top and on the surface. The top three lines are quite
rubbed out, and the script is identified as late. While the letters are well formed
overall, there is a blotchiness to some of them, as if the scribe is struggling with
ink flow. There are also a few random letters to the left side, apparently the let-
ter yod repeated three times.
When Allegro published the manuscript in 1979, he provided a rendering of
the letters in transliteration as follows:

1. lkʿps ʾṣgdhw [. . .] šykl

2. sḥrh ʾlyṣʾ ʾksnws trsy
3. tyrqws [. . .]ʾ byʿ [. . .]q
4. šdḥsw mgns mlkyh mnws
5. mḥtyš mqlyḥ mplyḥ mpybšt
6. bglgws bnwbn bsry gdy
7. dlwy hlkws hrqnws yny w
8. ytrʾytyšylʾ zwḥlwlp
8a yṭrws ysy
9. ʿqwlʾ zkryʾl yny
10. ʿly ʿdpy
10a ʿmryʾl qp[. . . .]

However, when Naveh re-read the text he provides the following transcription:

‫]טיכל‬. . .[‫לבעפס אצגדהו‬ 1
.‫ס‬..‫ס‬..‫ס‬.‫]א‬. . .[‫סחרה א‬ 2
‫תירקוס [ ]א בי[ ]ק‬
̇ 3
‫שרחסי ̇מגנס מלכיה מניס‬ 4
‫מחתוש ̇מקליח מפיבשת‬ 5
‫[ ]לגוס בניבן̇ בסרי גדי‬ 6

‫דלוי הלכוס הרקנוס וני ז‬ 7
‫זוחלזלפ‬ 8
‫]י‬.[‫זכריאל י‬ 9
136 Taylor

Additionally, to the right of lines 8–9 and below them, Naveh read:

‫יתראיתישילא‬
a
‫יטריסיסי‬
b
‫עקילא‬
c
‫עדפי‬
̇ ‫עלי‬
d

He detached these from the main text, as also what is written in the margin,
vertically, namely:

‫[ע]מריאל קפ‬

Thanks to the new resources we now have available online it is possible to read
4Q341 more clearly, and review the text of the editio princeps. I therefore ask
the reader to consult the high quality digital images available at http://www.
deadseascrolls.org.il/explore-the-archive/manuscript/4Q341-1. From these I
have made a drawing (Figure 1) in which certain missing letters are tentatively
restored.

Figure 1 A drawing of 4Q341.

4Q341: A Writing Exercise Remembered 137

This may be transcribed as follows:

‫זח]טיכל‬.[‫לבעפס אצגדהו‬ 1
.‫סחרה ארינא אנסנוס תרסי‬ 2
‫]ק‬. . .[ ]‫תירקוס[ ]א ביש[י‬ 3
‫שרחסי מגנס מלכיה מניס‬ 4
‫מחתוש מקליח מפיבשת‬ 5
‫ מגלגוס בני בן בסרי גדי‬ 6
‫דליי הלכוס הרקנוס וויז‬ 7
‫ותראית ושולא זוחל זלפ‬ 8
‫ יטר יסיסי זכריאל  ייי‬9
‫עקילא עלי עדפי‬ 10
]‫עמריאל קפ[י‬ 11

In the reconstruction above, I have placed Naveh’s a, b, c, d and vertical line

within the reading, as Allegro read, as the sequencing seems more important
than keeping precisely to a line. Lines 8, 9, and 10 increasingly slope down, as
if following the bottom edge diagonally to the bottom left. At the bottom left
of the piece the roughness of the leather seems to have made further writ-
ing impossible, and so the scribe turned the piece on its side, and continued
on the right. It should be noted that the differences between some letters are
quite minor, especially yod and vav, which are veritably indistinguishable.
This Hebrew may be approximately Anglicised in the following way (with
kh for soft kaph, th for soft tav, etc):

1 Labippas A Ts G D H W [? Z Ḥ] T Y K L
2 Saḥerah Arina Anasanos Thersi[s]
3 Theoriqos [. . .]a Beis[ai] [. . .]q
4 Shiraḥsi Magnos Malkiah Meneas
5 Maḥtos Maqliaḥ Mephibosheth
6 Megalagos Beni Ben-Basri Gadi
7 Daliyi Hilkos Hirqanos Waniz
8 Uthraith Ushola Zoḥel Zoleph
9 Yitar Yasisi Zakariel  Y Y Y
10 Aqila Ali Adephi
11 Amriel Qoph[i]

The vocalisations of the vowels in such names are invariably imprecise, but
this gives a rough indication. It will be noted that the list does not follow ex-
actly an alphabetic sequence, and repeats several names beginning with one
letter, with some letters alternating. The first three lines, where there is damage
138 Taylor

on the leather, may be read after the initial name beginning with lamed as
having the first 12 letters of the Hebrew alphabet in sequence, but with bet
replaced by tsade, and an intrusive letter or space in between or around the
(conjectural) zayin and the khet, since there is more space than would be filled
by these two letters. There is then another name beginning with samek. After
this there is a series of names with the initial letters dancing between the first
and last letters of the alphabet, followed by the second and second to last let-
ters, viz. aleph, tav, bet, shin, spelling out the Athbash sequence.11 The text then
jumps to mem, the middle (14th) letter of the alphabet when final forms are in-
cluded (13 on either side of the mem). There are 7 names beginning with mem.
After this the sequence progresses alphabetically, with some initial letters re-
peating: bet, bet, gimel, dalet, he, he, wav, wav, wav, zayin, zayin. The sequence
jumps over khet and tet and moves to two yods, and then back to zayin, and
finally ayin, ayin, ayin, ayin, qoph. While there are names easily distinguish-
able here at first sight—e.g. Magnos, Hirkanos, Aqila (Aquila), Zakariel—the
question is whether all the “words” are personal names or meaningless words.
While technical discussion of each letter’s reading is avoided here, for the
sake of conciseness, a few points will be noted in regard to the differences be-
tween the readings of Allegro and Naveh. For example, for the very first line,
Naveh simply put together a string of letters and did not try to separate out
any words or names. In regard to what may in fact be distinguished as the first
name here, ending in the Greek form -os, Allegro read the second letter as a
kaph, while Naveh read it as a bet. A bet has a small tag on the right side of the
lower horizontal stroke, and it has a slightly wider upper horizontal stroke.
When the digital photograph12 is viewed closely, it is apparent that there is
damage to the manuscript where this tag would have been, if it were a bet, but
there is a slight residue of what seems to be the tag, and the upper horizontal
stroke is wider, as befits a bet. Therefore, I opt for Naveh’s reading, even though
it is difficult to recognise a name rendered ‫לבעפס‬. However, utilising the im-
mense resources of Oxford’s Lexicon of Greek Personal Names (LGPN), which
draws on the full range of written sources from the 8th century BCE down
to the late Roman Empire, there is the name Labippa, which is attested twice.13
The names may then be:

11  I am very grateful to Ingo Kottsieper for spotting this Athbash sequence and correct-
ing my initial reading, when I presented this paper at the colloquium at Heythrop
College, “Bookish Circles: Varieties of Adult Learning and Literacy in the Greco-Roman
Mediterranean and Early Church,” in July 2016.
12  http://www.deadseascrolls.org.il/explore-the-archive/image/B-361876.
13  In the following notes LGPN with number indicates the published volumes of the project,
where all details of provenance will be found. Ilan I, II, III or IV refers to the following:
4Q341: A Writing Exercise Remembered 139

1. Labippas14 19. Ben-Basri

2. Saḥarah 20. Gadi27
3. Arina15 21. Daliyi28
4. Anasanos16 22. Hilkos29
5. Thersi[s]17 23. Hirqanos30
6. Theoriqos18 24. Waniz31
7. [. . .]a 25. Uthraith
8. Beis[ai]19 26. Ushola
9. [. . .]q 27. Zoḥel32
10. Shiraḥsi 28. Zoleph
11. Magnos20 29. Yitar33
12. Malkiaḥ21 30. Yasisi
13. Meneas22 31. Zakariel34
14. Maḥtos 32. Aqila35
15. Maqliah23 33. Ali36
16. Mephibosheth24 34. Adephi37
17. Megalagos25 35. Amriel38
18. Beni26 36. Qoph[i]39

Ilan I: Tal Ilan, Lexicon of Jewish Names in Antiquity: Part 1: Palestine 330 BCE–200 CE
(Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2002); Ilan II: Tal Ilan, Lexicon of Jewish Names in Late Antiquity:
Part II: Palestine 200–650 CE (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2012); Ilan III: Tal Ilan, Lexicon
of Jewish Names in Late Antiquity: Part III: The Western Diaspora 330 BCE–650 (Tübingen:
Mohr Siebeck, 2008); Ilan IV: Tal Ilan, Lexicon of Jewish Names in Late Antiquity: Part IV:
The Eastern Diaspora 330 BCE–650 CE (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011). The designation
“Biblical” indicates both canonical and extra-canonical scriptural texts known to be used
by those responsible for the Dead Sea Scrolls.
14  See http://www.lgpn.ox.ac.uk/database/lgpn.php. Attested in LGPN 3a. While Leukippos
would give us a far more attested name, it seems wiser to stay with what seems most plau-
sible on the basis of reading the second letter. However, I do accept that it is also possible
that this first “name” is simply a sequence of letters, given what follows on the line, as
Naveh assumed.
15  Arinnas, LGPN 4.
16  Similar names include: Assanos LGPN 4; Assinos LGPN 3b; Asanos, LGPN 4.
17  This is one option among several. Thersis is found in LGPN 1, 3a and 3b, but alternatives
include: Tharsias LGPN 1, 2a, 3a, 3b; Tharsis LGPN 1, Tharses LGPN 4, Thersias LGPN 2,a, 3a,
3b, 5, Thyrsis LGPN 3a, 4.
18  Theōrikos LGPN 1, 2a.
19  Ilan I, “Besai,” 83–84.
20  The Latin name Magnus is found among Jews, see Ilan II, 284; the name is found in all
volumes of the LGPN (55 times).
21  Ilan II, “Malkiah,” 144, 432–33; Ilan IV 104–106.
22  L DPN Vol 3a, 3b, 4; Minias Vol 3a.
140 Taylor

As can then be seen, most names are attested in either identical or very close
forms elsewhere, but there are some that have no extant parallel, and it may be
that the reading can be improved. If some of these names belong to women,
then the lack of a parallel would be understandable, for there are far more
epigraphic and literary records of male names than female names. There
are three names that may sound “angelic”: Zokhel, Zakariel and Amriel (or
Omriel). However, there is clearly use of –el ending names at this time (fa-
mously Gamaliel40 or Nathaniel41), so we cannot assume this type of name
only relates to angels, especially when these are not clearly attested in the lit-
erature of this period. Actual angelic names are also found as names of real
people, e.g. Gabriel.42

Parallels

There are two other Qumran manuscript texts that are significant as paral-
lels: 4Q234 (Exercitium Calami A) and 4Q360 (Exercitium Calami B), both

23  Ilan I, “Maqlit,” 392.

24  Biblical: 2 Sam 9.
25  Megalagos seems to fit with numerous names in the LGPN beginning with “Megal-”
(meaning “great”) in Greek, though there is no exact parallel. Megale and Megalos are
both names attested in Ilan II, 229, 257.
26  Ilan I, “Benaiah,” 81; Ilan II, 72, Ilan IV 64.
27  Ilan I, “Gadia,” 366; Ilan II, 334, Ilan IV, 341.
28  Ilan I, “Daliah,” Ilan II, 79, 418.
29  Ilan I, “Helkiah,” 97–98.
30  Ilan I, “Hyrcanus,” 350–51; Ilan II, 310, 471–72.
31  Ilan I, “Vaniah,” 89.
32  Ilan I, “Zachariah,” 90.
33  Ilan I, “Yitra,” 181–82.
34  Ilan I, “Zachariah,” 90.
35  Ilan I, “Aquila,” 327–28; Ilan II, 464–65.
36  Ilan I, “Aliʿo,” 400, from a Nabataean inscription.
37  Adelphia and Adelphios are attested Greek names, LGPN 3a, 4.
38  Unattested in contemporaneous literature.
39  Ilan II, “Qaifa,” 618.
40  Ilan I, 85.
41  John 1:45; 21:2. See also Ilan I, “Abigael,” 239; “Daniel,” 87; “Satriel,” 398, inter alia.
42  Ilan II, 76.
4Q341: A Writing Exercise Remembered 141

published by Ada Yardeni.43 4Q234 (4QExercitium Calami A) is a writing

exercise using Gen 27:19–21. 4Q360 mainly has the name Menahem appear-
ing three times in different directions and in parts.44 From the buildings of
Qumran a number of ostraca have emerged that are clearly writing exercises:
KhQ161=KhQ Ostracon, found in Trench A and dated to Period I by Roland de
Vaux, is a rough abecedary, running from bottom to top, with the final two let-
ters of the initial sequence (yod and kaph, which follow tet and precede lamed),
found in the bottom right corner, and with some letters repeated (tet, aleph,
and shin).45 KhQ2207 is another writing exercise, found in Locus 129, though
it has been read as indicating something quite hymnic.46 While it is extremely
hard to determine the letters distinctly in this ostracon, one wonders if breaks
between letter groups might suggest clusters beginning with the letters aleph
and yod/vav respectively, ending with tav or he, but only further analysis would
help here. KhQ1996/2 has not been identified as a writing exercise but it con-
tains a list of names, as “sons of,” ‫בני‬.47
Elsewhere in the region, abecedaries and lists of names have come to light
on ostraca and also on other materials, dating from the 1st century BCE through
to the 4th century CE.48 Most relevant to 4Q341 is an unprovenanced abece-
dary bought on the open market and now in the École Biblique, with a list of
names ordered by the letters of the alphabet. This ostracon was published by
Émile Puech in 1980 and rightly noted by Naveh as an important parallel. After
the first two lines that have Hebrew letters from aleph to tav the remainder

43  Ada Yardeni, “234. 4QExercitium Calami A”; Yardeni, “360. 4QExercitium Calami B,” DJD
36, 185–86 (pl. IX), 297 (pl. XX).
44  Annette Steudel, “ ‘Bereitet den Weg des Herrn:’ Religiöses Lernen in Qumran,” in
Religiöses Lernen in der biblischen, frühjüdischen und frühchristlichen Überlieferung, ed.
Beate Ego and Helmut Merkel, WUNT 180 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2005), 99–116.
45  Roland de Vaux, “Fouilles de Khirbet Qumran: Rapport préliminaire sur la deuxième cam-
pagne,” RB 61 (1954): 206–36, 229 (pl. Xa); Esther Eshel, “3. Khirbet Qumran Ostracon,”
DJD 36:509–12 (pl. XXXIV); André Lemaire, “Inscriptions du Khirbeh, des grottes et de
ʿAïn Feshkha,” in Khirbet Qumran et ʿAïn Feshkha, ed. Jean-Baptiste Humbert and Jan
Gunneweg (Fribourg: Academic Press, 2003), 341–88, 341–42.
46  See Lemaire, “Inscriptions,” 360–62.
47  Frank Moore Cross and Esther Eshel, “Ostraca from Khirbet Qumran,” IEJ 47 (1997): 17–
28, 27; Émile Puech, “L’ostracon de Khirbet Qumrân (KHQ1996/1) et une vente de ter-
rain à Jéricho, témoin de l’occupation essénienne à Qumrân,” in Flores Florentino: Dead
Sea Scrolls and Other Early Jewish Studies in Honour of Florentino García Martínez, ed.
Anthony Hilhorst, Émile Puech, and Eibert Tigchelaar, JSJSup 122 (Leiden: Brill, 2007),
1–30, 17–18, 21.
48  David Carr, Writing on the Tablet of the Heart: Origins of Scripture and Literature (Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 2005), 242.
142 Taylor

of the lines (3–8) contain personal names in alphabetical order. 4Q341 seems
to involve a freer form of listing names than one finds on the École Biblique
abecedary, in which the following names are listed in strict alphabetical order:
Uriah, Baniah, Gamariah, Daliah, Hodiah, Oni, Zakariah, Hananiah, Tobiah,
Yeremiah, Kuliah, Luliah, Menahem, Nehemiah, Samiah, Asiah.49 Masada os-
traca 608 and 609 are remarkable for having remnants of what seems to be the
same list of names as found in the École Biblique ostracon, with the names
Uriah, Oni, Zak[ariah], and Luliah distinguishable on 608 and Oni, Zakariah,
and Yeremiah legible on 609. However, unlike these, in 4Q341 some of the
endings of the names have –os forms we would expect to find in masculine
Greek names, rather than the –ah forms frequent in Hebrew names. Some of
the names may be for women (see above), and some may not be particularly
Jewish (and hence unfamiliar). Such types of names may be paralleled in an-
other fragmentary ostracon from Masada (no. 610) in which the name ‫הוקרנס‬,
Hokranos is read, with the Greek style -os ending, followed by a name ]..[‫טובי‬,
Tobi[as/h]. Masada 744 is made up of two pieces of papyrus, with Greek names
written, and Greek name lists are also found in 748, 749, 782–90, and possibly
also in frag. 935 and 942.50 Also from Masada, ostraca have been found with
Hebrew/Aramaic and Greek writing exercises involving the alphabet. Ostracon
no. 606 has a two lines with some extant letters: he, wav, zayin, and khet on the
top line and mem, nun, samek, ayin, pe, and tsade on the bottom: thus one as-
sumes the alphabet would have been complete originally.51
At Herodion an abecedary was found on two sides of a rounded ostracon
(no. 53).52 One side has the letters aleph to samek, and the other side has
the whole alphabet and the name Ahyahu. Ostraca from the 1st century BCE
through to the 1st century CE with Hebrew alphabets were discovered in a
miqveh in Jerusalem’s Jewish Quarter.53

49  Émile Puech, “Abécédarie et liste alphabétique de noms hébreux du début du IIe s. A.D.,”
RB 87 (1980): 118–26; Naveh, “Medical Document?” 55. Puech considers the likely origin of
this ostracon to be Herodion, which was under excavation at the time of the ostracon’s
appearance on the antiquities market; it also has similarities to Herodion ostracon no. 53.
50  Hannah Cotton and Joseph Geiger, Masada II: The Yigael Yadin Excavations 1963–1965 Final
Reports: The Latin and Greek Documents (Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1989).
51  Yigael Yadin and Joseph Naveh, Masada I: The Yigael Yadin Excavations (Jerusalem: Israel
Exploration Society, 1989), 61–64.
52  Emanuele Testa, Herodion IV: I graffiti e gli ostraca (Jerusalem: Franciscan Printing Press,
1972), 77–78, at 80 as read by Puech, “Abécédarie,” 122.
53  Esther Eshel, “Hebrew and Aramaic Inscriptions,” in Jewish Quarter Excavations in the Old
City of Jerusalem III: Area E and Other Studies, Final Report, ed. Hillel Geva (Jerusalem:
Israel Exploration Society, 2006), 301–6, 301.
4Q341: A Writing Exercise Remembered 143

From Murabbaʿat there are six examples of abedecaries in Hebrew writing.

Ostracon Mur 73 dates from the 1st century BCE, and has four letters—bet,
gimel, dalet, he—at the top, possibly followed by two or three personal names
which attest multiple attempts at letters.54 Ostracon Mur 78 is a simple abece-
dary with each letter written twice, and is dated to the Second Revolt.55 There
are some other indeterminate markings on the ostracon. Ostracon Mur 79 has
the alphabet in several jumbled lines with medial and final forms of the let-
ters, and a partial repeat. Ostracon 80 shows two lines of what once probably
were two whole alphabets written out, one on top of the other. The top line has
only part of khet, tet, and yod and the lower line tet, yod, medial kaph and final
kaph, and lamed.56 In Murabbaʿat there was also a palimpsest with an abece-
dary (Mur 10a) and an account (Mur 10b), as well as a piece of parchment with
part of an abecedary (Mur 11).57 In addition to these alphabetic pieces there
are probably fragmentary name lists or single names in Mur 4158 and exercises
in Greek in Mur 122–132.59 Mur 74 appears as a long list with each name usu-
ally on one line, and there is no alphabetical order. The script is a mixture of
calligraphic and cursive. Fifteen people are named, four with patronyms, and
five or six are probably nicknames: thus these seem to be real people. Mur 41
was written on papyrus in Hebrew letters in a chancellery script by the same
hand. Mur 95 in Greek may have several hands, using cursive and irregular
script, but it is very smudged and hard to read. As Hezser notes, “The particular
purposes of these lists cannot be determined anymore and one can imagine a
variety of functions for which they were used.”60 The fact that these texts are
found with accounts prompts one to consider quite utilitarian reasons for the
non-alphabetic name lists. Additionally, Murabbaʿat also yielded a fragmen-
tary wax writing tablet made of wood.61
In 2007 excavations in Area M1 at the Jerusalem Givati Parking Lot in the City
of David area an inscription was found on a stone vessel fragment containing

54  Pierre Benoit, Jozef T. Milik, and Roland de Vaux, eds., Les Grottes de Murabbaʿât, DJD 2
(Oxford: Clarendon, 1961), no. 73 (pl. LII).
55  Benoit, Milik and de Vaux, Grottes de Murabbaʿât, pl. LIV.
56  Jozef T. Milik, “Abédédaires,” in Benoit, Milik, and de Vaux, Grottes de Murabbaʿât, 178–79,
pls. LIII–LV.
57  Milik, “Palimpseste: compte, abécédaires,” in Benoit, Milik, and de Vaux, Grottes de
Murabbaʿât, 90–92 and pls. XXVI–XXVII. See also Catherine Hezser, Jewish Literacy in
Roman Palestine (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2001), 85–88.
58  Benoit, Milik and de Vaux, Grottes de Murabbaʿât, 74–77, 87, 95, 154–55.
59  Benoit, Milik and de Vaux, Grottes de Murabbaʿât, pls. XCIII–XCV.
60  Hezser, Jewish Literacy, 335.
61  Benoit, Milik and de Vaux, Grottes de Murabbaʿât, 64–67 (pl. XII:7).
144 Taylor

the first six letters of the Greek alphabet, very roughly scratched, with dupli-
cates of alpha and beta at the top and the letters Α Β Γ Δ Ε Ζ underneath. It was
in remains of a large building destroyed in 70 CE.62
Relevant too though from a slightly later period is that the Nessana ex-
cavations revealed a structure of the Byzantine upper town with a floor on
which there were numerous pottery sherds covered in writing exercises (in
Nabataean) as well as conch shells that could have been inkwells.63 There may
be much more evidence out there from archaeological sites that is simply not
noted by the investigative teams; it is only fairly recently that random letters on
potsherds have been considered interesting.
Alphabets could also be inscribed or written on the walls of tombs, caves
and structures. In Wadi Michmas, on the wall of a plastered bell-shaped cistern
in a cave used by Jewish refugees, two alphabets were written one above the
other, the upper one running from aleph to mem, and the lower one entire.64
Several similar inscribed alphabetic inscriptions were found in Jewish rock-cut
tombs.65 In Jericho, on the inside of a reused lid of an ossuary (no. 6) dated
to the 1st century CE, propped up in a tomb, were Greek letters running from
alpha to theta (and possibly to iota).66 In one of the Akeldama tombs of the 1st
century CE, there are the first seven letters of the Hebrew alphabet drawn in
charcoal.67 At Rehavia, part of a Hebrew alphabet was scratched on an ossu-
ary in a 1st century tomb.68 In Bet Shearim a 3rd-century CE inscription con-
sisting of the Greek letters alpha to iota was found in catacomb 1 on an arch

62  Doron Ben-Ami and Yana Tchekhanovets, “A Greek Abecedary Fragment from the City of
David,” PEQ 140 (2008): 195–202.
63  Dan Urman, “Nessana Excavations 1987–1995,” Beer Sheva 17 (2004): 1–118, 35–36, figs.
37–40.
64  Joseph Patrich, “Inscriptions araméennes juives dans les grottes d’El-ʿAleiliyat,” RB 92
(1985): 265–73; Patrich, “Caves of Refuge and Jewish Inscriptions on the Cliffs of Naḥal
Michmas,” Eretz Israel 18 (1985): 153–66 (Hebrew); Patrich, “Refuges juif dans les gorges du
Wadi Mukhmas,” RB 96 (1989): 235–39.
65  Alice bij de Vaate, “Alphabet Inscriptions from Jewish Graves,” in Studies in Early Jewish
Epigraphy, ed. Jan Willem van Henten and Pieter W. van der Horst (Leiden: Brill, 1993),
148–61.
66  Rachel Hachlili, “The Goliath Family in Jericho: Funerary Inscriptions from a First Century
A.D. Jewish Monumental Tomb,” BASOR 235 (1979): 31–66.
67  Gideon Avni and Zvi Greenhut, The Akeldama Tombs: Three Burial Caves in the Kidron
Valley, Jerusalem (IAA Reports I; Jerusalem: Israel Antiquities Authority, 1996), 12–13,
figs. 1.17, 1.18, 1.21.
68  Haggai Misgav, “An Alphabetic Sequence on an Ossuary,” Atiqot 29 (1996): 47–9.
4Q341: A Writing Exercise Remembered 145

between two burial chambers,69 and there are also two Hebrew alphabets.70 In
Kh. Eitun two Hebrew alphabets (3rd–4th century) were found on walls of a
tomb passage.71 The role of the alphabet in such contexts, for apotropaic pur-
poses, was explored already by Franz Dornseiff in 1922.72 Alice bij de Vaate has
appropriately noted: “A grave is an odd place in which to do one’s homework.”73
She has set the evidence found in Israel-Palestine in the context of other alpha-
betic inscriptions in the Graeco-Roman world, often in epitaphs, and including
a dedication to Jupiter Dolichenus, found in Naples.74 A magical meaning has
indeed been ascribed to some of these by the relevant archaeologists,75 and
Dornseiff’s identification of the magical use of the alphabet is certainly con-
firmed by prescriptions for amulets collected by bij de Vaate.76 For example,
in the Anecdota Atheniensia (I 634, 13–17) it said that you have to write your
name, the names of your parents and the name of the archon Michael with the
alphabet. Moreover, in the Testament of Solomon (18:38) a demon Rhyx Autoth
is thwarted by “the alphabet, written down.” The power of the alphabet itself
seems to function in a world in which literacy itself is highly limited, and in
which there is a mystique about letters.
There is then the tricky question about deciding when an abecedary or
alphabet-oriented piece of text is a writing exercise and when it is an amulet
or apotropaic in some way. Even if the letters are badly formed, it may be that
the alphabet or alphabetic sequence is written by someone who does not have
a high standard of literacy, yet still wishes to create something with an apo-
tropaic function. Context is vital in understanding whether this is the case.
Alphabets on the walls of refugee caves or tombs, or on the plaster of struc-
tures, should perhaps often be understood as apotropaic, given there was fear

69  Moshe Schwabe and Baruch Lifshitz, Beth Shearim II: The Greek Inscriptions (New
Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1974), 46–47, no. 73 (=CIJ 1092).
70  Benjamin Mazar, “Preliminary Report of the Eighth Season at Beth Shearim,” Yediot 22
(1957): 163 (Hebrew).
71  Amos Kloner, “ABCDerian Inscriptions in Jewish Rock-Cut Tombs,” in Proceedings
of the Ninth World Conference in Jewish Studies, Jerusalem, August 4–12, 1985: Division A
(Jerusalem: World Union of Jewish Studies, 1986), 125–32, 96–100 (Hebrew).
72  Franz Dornseiff, Das Alphabet in Mystik und Magie (Leipzig: Teubner, 1922), 158–68.
73  Bij de Vaate, “Alphabet Inscriptions,” 154.
74  Bij de Vaate, “Alphabet Inscriptions,” 152; Pierre Merlat, Répertoire des inscriptions et mon-
uments figurés du culte de Jupiter Dolichenus (Paris: Geuthner, 1951), 252, no. 253.
75  Patrich, “Caves of Refuge,” 153–4 n. 22; Schwabe and Lifshitz, Beth Shearim II, 46–47;
Rachel Hachlili, “Did the Alphabet have a Magical Meaning in the First Century C.E.?”
Cathedra 31 (1984): 27–30 (Hebrew).
76  Bij de Vaate, “Alphabet Inscriptions,” 155–58.
146 Taylor

of grave robbers or enemies. Ostraca that have been shaped into a wearable
object, such as ostracon 53 from Herodion, may also be considered amuletic
in character. But we should be wary of assuming every writing example is apo-
tropaic, especially in cases where practising of letters is clearly indicated by
their multiple repetition, or poor form.77 We have to assess each text on a case
by case basis.
There are, after all, many instances of simple writing exercises using the al-
phabet that have been found in the Graeco-Roman world. It is to the evidence
for ancient education we now turn, in order to understand the genre of 4Q341
more precisely.

Ancient Education

We can know about how children in antiquity learnt their “ABCs” on the basis
of a body of literature known as the Hermeneumata.78 As Raffaella Cribiore
has explored, these texts show that in elementary learning children would
be drilled, with an older student pronouncing letters and syllables aloud and
the smaller children writing them down.79 Stephen Davies has analysed how
in the Paidika, or Infancy Gospel of Thomas, there is a cultural memory of
how children learnt their first letters. He notes how in this text the teacher
Zacchaeus (ch. 6) writes out the alphabet and then reads out each letter over
and over; the young Jesus proves he knows the letters by reciting them back,
from alpha to omega, and then interrogates the teacher in regard to the letters’
meaning. In Paidika 13 a second teacher repeats the process, and asks Jesus to
“Say alpha,” and Jesus responds “You tell me first what beta is and I shall tell you
what alpha is.”80 In chapter 14 the same process repeats. The work combines
then the mystical with the educational; the story of the simple learning of the
alphabet is a launching pad for a reminder of the deeper meaning of the alpha-
bet recognised by the adept, but the basic template presented would have been
familiar to all: a teacher pronounces and a student repeats.

77  As with Ben-Ami and Tchekhanovets, “A Greek Abecedary Fragment.”

78  A. Carlotta Dionisotti, “From Ausonius’ Schooldays?” JRC 72 (1982): 83–125; Rafaella
Cribiore, Gymnastics of the Mind: Greek Education in Hellenistic and Roman Egypt
(Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2001), 15–17.
79  Hermeneumata Einsidlensia, Georg Goetz, ed., Corpus Glossariorum Latinorum (Leipzig:
Teubner, 1888–1923), 3:225 (56); Cribiore, Gymnastics, 15 .
80  Stephen J. Davies, Christ Child: Cultural Memories of a Young Jesus (New Haven: Yale
University Press, 2014), 108.
4Q341: A Writing Exercise Remembered 147

If we take simply the question of the exercises towards literacy, what is de-
scribed here conforms to what can be determined from the Hermeneumata
that the youngest pupils would learn “letters and syllables,” as Davies notes.81
Quintilian (Inst. 10.2.2) mentions that “boys copy the shapes of letters that they
may learn to write,” and provides some detailed prescriptions on ideal learn-
ing. Here Quintilian notes types of syllabaries in elementary education: “As re-
gards syllables, no short cut is possible: they must all be learnt, and there is no
good in putting off learning the most difficult; this is the general practice, but
the sole result is bad spelling” (Inst. 1.1.30).82 More specifically, he recommends:
“It will be worthwhile, by way of improving the child’s pronunciation and dis-
tinctness of utterance, to make him rattle off a selection of names and lines of
studied difficulty: they should be formed of a number of syllables which go ill
together and should be harsh and rugged in sound: the Greeks call them ‘gags’
[χαλινοί]. This sounds a trifling matter, but its omission will result in numerous
faults of pronunciation, which, unless removed in early years, will become a
perverse and incurable habit and persist through life” (1.1.37).83 In 4Q341 the
inclusion of names that begin with the first letter but have variant syllables,
or shift between different beginning letters, may illustrate the kind of tricky
literacy (and pronunciation) exercise Quintilian refers to. The Greek term
χαλινοί, “gags,” indicates that the verbal exercises are liable to make the student
make mistakes. Literary proficiency and verbal skill appear to go hand in hand
in learning. One wonders then if in 4Q341 some of the unfamiliar names are
designed to furnish examples almost impossible to pronounce, let alone spell.
The initial “name” Labippas, may simply be created because it is easy to con-
fuse the sound of a “b” and a “p” and it is hard to say. The same is true for the
head word of line 2, Saḥerah, perhaps even said Saḥrah, where khet and he are
awkwardly found together.84
More importantly still, in terms of fixing the category in which 4Q341 be-
longs, there is the Athbash sequence at the start, and the irregular employment
of alphabetic order. Quintilian notes: “teachers, when they think they have suf-
ficiently familiarised their young pupils with the letters written in their usual
order, reverse that order or rearrange it in every kind of combination, until
they learn to know the letters from their appearance and not from the order
in which they occur” (Inst. 1.1.25).85 The Athbash sequence is attested as an

81  Davies, Christ Child, 109.

82  Quintilian, Institutio Oratoria, LCL (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1920), 1:36.
83  Quintilian, Institutio Oratoria, 39.
84  Note that the vocalisation of the vowels rendered here can only be hypothetical.
85  Quintilian, Institutio Oratoria, 36.
148 Taylor

educational tool from the Iron Age to the Graeco-Roman era.86 As Rex Wallace
states, summarising the evidence of students writing graffiti in Pompeii and
Herculaneum: “[t]here are many examples of abecedarian . . . both in Latin
and in Greek . . . Sometimes the alphabets were written in reverse order, and
sometimes they were written by alternating one letter from the beginning
and then one letter from the end of the alphabet, e.g., AXBVCT, etc. Exercises
such as these must have been employed in school to help students master the
alphabet.”87
Evidence of Jewish learning, as collected by Catherine Hezser, mainly by
reference to rabbinic material, confirms there was a similar process in terms
of letter familiarisation for reading. A teacher wrote down alphabetic exercises
for the pupils,88 but there is very little in the rabbinic sources about the pupils
actually learning to write, leading Hezser to wonder whether there was any
significant elementary education involving writing in Judaea in the Second
Temple period. This view has now been systematically countered by the study
of Michael Wise, who argues for skills in writing on the basis of surviving Bar
Kokhba material.89 Indeed, Josephus states that the Law γράμματα παιδεύειν
ἐκέλευσεν, “orders (children) to learn (their) letters” (Ag. Ap. 2.204), which im-
plies more than reading.
Indeed, the evidence of writing on ostraca as cited above (from Masada,
Murabbaʿat and other sites) tallies very well with the evidence elsewhere iden-
tified as elementary writing exercises, surviving in the form of waxed wooden
tablets, papyri, and ostraca. This evidence has been assembled by Cribiore, in
her exhaustive and careful work on identifying school exercises from Graeco-
Roman Egypt.90 In defining the work of students she focuses on such matters
as the roughness of papyrus used, or the ubiquitous use of ostraca, and certain
known types of exercises.91 There are instances where there are single letters

86  See Aaron Demsky, “A Proto-Canaanite Abecedary dating from the Period of the Judges
and its Implications for the History of the Alphabet,” Tel Aviv 4 (1977): 14–27, 19–20, dis-
cussing the ‘Izbet Sartah ostracon.
87  Rex Wallace, An Introduction to Wall Inscriptions from Pompeii and Herculaneum
(Wauconda: Bolchazy-Carducci, 2005).
88  ʾAbot R. Nat. 6, 15; t. Yad. 2:11; Hezser, Jewish Literacy, 76.
89  Michael Wise, Language and Literacy in Roman Judaea: A Study of the Bar Kokhba
Documents (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2015).
90  Raffaella Cribiore, Writing, Teachers and Students in Graeco-Roman Egypt (Atlanta:
Scholars Press, 1996), 173–284. Learning the letters of the alphabet, nos. 1–40; whole alpha-
bets (nos. 41–77), syllabaries (nos. 78–97), lists of words (nos. 98–128), writing exercises
(nos 129–74).
91  Cribiore, Writing, 35–118.
4Q341: A Writing Exercise Remembered 149

or strings, in or out of order (nos. 1–40), whole alphabets (nos. 41–77), sylla-
baries (nos. 78–97), lists of words (nos. 98–128), writing exercises (nos. 129–74),
and more. Among these, there are several examples that can function as com-
paranda in regard to 4Q341. Nos. 44, 79, and 85 are examples in which the first
letter is coupled with the last letter of the alphabet, the second with second
to last, and so on. In Hebrew this would make the aleph become coupled with
the tav, bet to shin, the Athbash, which is exactly what we have in the first lines
of 4Q341.
The lists of words used in school exercises as catalogued by Cribiore include:
months of the year, days of the week, deities, birds, occupations. There is also
a list of bisyllabic words from alpha to omega, with many made up,92 as well as
lists of proper names.93 No. 105 is a list of proper names in alphabetical order,
some of which are Greek and Roman current names, while some are from his-
tory or myth.94 No. 106 has a third line reading “since you are young, work.”95
These examples therefore furnish quite clear parallels for the type of alpha-
betic name list we have in 4Q341.
While 4Q341 might be classified then as an elementary writing exercise,
there are obstacles to understanding the text in this way. This text is written on
leather/parchment, an offcut of a roll surely intended for good use, as opposed
to rough papyrus or an ostracon. An elementary school child would not usually
pick up such an item. Therefore, we might better imagine a scribal environ-
ment. The hand, in addition, is not uneducated: the letters are well formed
and even, despite being thickened at times by heavy ink flow. In Naveh’s es-
timation the hand itself indicates an accomplished scribe, though the reason
he provides is slightly curious: “the Masada ostraca were writing exercises of
beginners who did not deviate from the prescribed formula, while the much
more skilled scribe from Qumran permitted himself variations on the same
theme.”96 Whether we can really determine “variations” on the basis of an
attested standard of alphabetic name listing is more doubtful than Naveh

92  Cribiore, Writing, 197, no. 100, P. Genova II: 53.

93  Cribiore, Writing, 197–201, nos.101, 105, 106, 109, 118, 119, 128.
94  Cribiore, Writing, 198.
95  Cribiore, Writing, 198, P. Ryl. II.443, 3rd cent. A late Roman notebook is made up of five
waxed wooden tablets bound together which contains a teacher’s model of noun syl-
labification and exercises, including writing out the alphabet in full, names and words.
Cribiore, Writing, 279, no. 400; Cribiore, Gymnastics, 43–44.
96  Naveh, “Medical Document?” 291. Though Naveh also categorised the Masada examples
as ultimately not too elementary: “Nevertheless it should not be assumed that the latter
were school exercises; they could have been written by any person familiar with pen and
ink” (Naveh, Masada I, 62).
150 Taylor

suggests, since we would have to review considerably more writing exercises

than exist in Masada to form an opinion about this. That the scribe of 4Q341
was accomplished nevertheless seems clear on the basis of the script. The let-
ters are well formed and the lines are adhered to well. The scribe can even
write adeptly on the crumpled surface of the lower left side. A reasonably ac-
complished hand has also written the name “Menahem” in three directions
in 4Q360, and 4Q234 shows similar expertise.97 However, a word of warning
about assuming too much scribal competence is provided by Cribiore, who
notes, “The few syllabaries and the many lists of words written in the hands of
students display handwriting more practiced than that of complete beginners.
These students . . . followed the regular progression of steps toward reading
and proper writing (letters, syllables, words, sentences), and had already made
considerable progress in penmanship.”98
Naveh tends to associate all evidence of writing exercises with scribal study,
not elementary education as such,99 and this may be too sweeping. However, it
does seem most likely that at least 4Q341 was indeed a “warm-up” for a scribe
for the purpose of familiarisation with the available writing instrument and
ink, written down on a piece of leather that would not be usable for the proper
text. The context in which the piece was found—with examples of sophisticat-
ed and well-written texts—would make it unlikely to be an elementary exer-
cise, yet the poor material suggests there was a practice taking place on a scrap
piece. The reason for this writing was not to practise lettering, but to practise
the ink flow. In ancient scribal practice, refining the kalamos reed pen to allow
for an appropriate flow of ink was not necessarily an easy process.100 Thus we
see significant thickening in the letters at several places on the piece, especial-
ly obvious in line 8, where the letter yod is very thick indeed, almost a blotch.
Thus, Brooke was so right to be suspicious of a conclusion that 4Q341 is
“just” a scribble of no consequence. We are given a glimpse into elementary
learning. A scribe had to start his learning with elementary exercises. What

97  Steudel, “ ‘Bereitet den Weg des Herrn,’ ” 110.

98  Cribiore, Gymnastics, 170.
99  Hezser states, regarding children’s writing, “there is no unambiguous evidence that it ever
took place” and “practically all the abecedaries and scribbles on ostraca and pieces of
parchment which had been identified as ‘writing exercises’ can be attributed to scribes
or apprentice scribes and probably had the function of testing the writing instruments
rather than the writing skills.” Hezser, Jewish Literacy, 88.
100  For this type of pen and the ink used, see Emanuel Tov, Scribal Practices and Approaches
Reflected in the Texts Found in the Judean Desert, STDJ 54 (Leiden: Brill, 2004), 52.
4Q341: A Writing Exercise Remembered 151

is in the scribe’s mind as he dipped his uncooperative ink, I would suggest, is

the kind of writing exercises he would have learnt when he was a beginner.
In the same way that someone can write out, “A quick brown fox jumps over
the lazy dog,” to test a pen, we may assume that experts in ancient times could
use elementary exercises for such “scribbling.” Thus this exercise in 4Q341 tells
us something about the education received by the scribe, even though it is
written by someone adept, with literary expertise. Its genre is then best under-
stood within the context of ancient educational exercises, now well attested. It
gives us a glimpse into the kind of writing exercise a trainee scribe would have
undertaken in order to master his craft.

Conclusions

At the outset, I asked: to what extent can we define 4Q341 as belonging in the
category of magic, and to what extent can we define it within the category
of ancient education? This discussion has ultimately led from the text to the
types of evidence that exists for using alphabets, attested in various ways in
ostraca, papyri, stone or other materials. In 4Q341 this partial abecedary and
particular kind of alphabeticised list of names falls into a category of texts that
are classified as writing exercises in the Graeco-Roman world. The question
then arises about whether someone can do two things at the same time: cre-
ate a writing exercise that is also apotropaic, or a practice for such a work,
as Brooke has suggested. Here it may be we need to tread carefully, because
there appears to be no parallel. There are instances where an alphabet itself
is apotropaic, written on a tomb wall, for example, or in an inscription or an
amulet, but a list of names arranged in alphabetical order is a different case.
Had the list involved an alphabet written out in full, or been a series of verifi-
able angelic proper names, then we may have more reason to suggest a magical
function, but the blotchy ink and the poor scrap used to write out the text sug-
gests that a flap of leather/parchment has been snipped off to use for a simple
utilitarian purpose: ink flow management. The scribe here avoids practising
with a sacred text, and instead employs the exercises he would have used to
gain proficiency in writing Hebrew at an elementary stage, with a list of proper
names. We have a sequence beginning (after the name/word Labippas) with
an Athbash set, a jump to the letter mem, and then a semi-alphabetic list. This
text in fact provides a fascinating glimpse into ancient Jewish scribal educa-
tion, which can be seen to connect well with educational practices in the wider
Graeco-Roman world.
4Q47 (4QJosha): An Abbreviated Text?
Ariel Feldman

For George, ‫אדם אחד מאלף‬

Eccl 7:28

∵
Careful attention to materiality of ancient texts is one of the hallmarks of
George Brooke’s work on the Dead Sea Scrolls. In several of his studies Brooke
deals with fragmentary scrolls preserving excerpted or abbreviated scriptural
texts.1 Following in his footsteps, this essay re-visits the scroll 4Q47 (4QJosha)
and suggests that it is an abbreviated text of Joshua.

4Q47 5

Praised as the “oldest extant witness to the book of Joshua in any language,”
4Q47 is extant in twenty-two fragments inscribed in a Hasmonean hand.2 It
features portions of Joshua 4–5 (col. 1), 6 (col. 2), 7 (col. 4), 8 (col. 5), and 10

* The work on this paper was supported by the Newton International Fellowships Alumni
Funding. I am grateful to Dr. Joseph McDonald for his helpful suggestions on both contents
and style of this essay.
1  George J. Brooke, “Torah in the Qumran Scrolls,” in Bibel in jüdischer und christlicher
Tradition, ed. Helmut Merklein et al., BBB 88 (Frankfurt am Main: Anton Hain, 1993), 97–120,
108–11; Brooke, “Ezekiel in Some Qumran and New Testament Texts,” in The Madrid Qumran
Congress, ed. Julio Trebolle Barrera and Luis Vegas Montaner, STDJ 11 (Leiden: Brill; Madrid:
Editorial Complutense, 1992), 1:317–37, 318–19; Brooke, “4QGenesisd Reconsidered,” in Textual
Criticism and Dead Sea Scrolls Studies in Honour of Julio Trebolle Barrera, ed. Andrés Piquer
Otero and Pablo Torijano Morales, JSJSup 157 (Leiden: Brill, 2012), 51–60.
2  Eugene Ulrich, “4Q47. 4QJosha,” in Qumran Cave 4.IX: Deuteronomy, Joshua, Judges, Kings,
ed. Eugene Ulrich et al., DJD 14 (Oxford: Clarendon, 1995), 143–52, 143. The scroll has been
recently re-edited by Émile Puech, “Les copies du livre de Josué dans les manuscrits de la Mer
Morte: 4Q47, 4Q48, 4Q123 et XJosué,” RB 122 (2015): 481–506. Puech’s contribution reached me
after the completion of this paper and I was able to incorporate here only some of his work
on 4Q47.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ���7 | doi ��.��63/9789004344532_010

4Q47 (4QJosh a ): An Abbreviated Text ? 153

(frgs. 17–22). Scholarly discussion of 4Q47 has focused on col. 1 juxtaposing

Josh 8:34b–35, a paraphrase of Josh 4:18, and Josh 5:2–7.3 Less attention has
been given to col. 5, which contains the account of the conquest of Ai (Joshua
8). The editor of 4Q47, Eugene Ulrich, identified five fragments comprising
col. 5 (frgs. 9 ii; 13–16). Comparing their wording to the MT and LXX versions of
Josh 8:3–18, he placed these fragments as follows:4

top margin
] [‫המלחמה‬ ̊ ‫ יהושוע וכל עם‬1
] ‫וישלחם ̊ל[ילה‬ ̊ ‫ גבורי החיל‬2
] ‫מאח[רי‬ ̊ ‫ אל העיר‬3
] [‫ ואני וכל‬4
] [‫עד‬ ̊ ‫]א ̇ח ̇רינו‬
̊ ‫בר ̊א ̊ש[נה ונסנו לפניהם ויצאו‬ ̇ 5
] [ 6
] ‫]את הע[יר‬ ̊ ‫ [והורשתם‬7
] [‫באש‬ ̊ ‫ [את הע]י̊ ר‬8
] [‫[ויל]כו ̊א ̊ל‬ ̇ 9
‫ו]הזקנים‬
̊ [ 10
‫א]תו וישובו‬̇ [ 11
‫]העי̊ [ר ] כראות‬ ̊ ‫ [ויבאו נגד‬12
‫לק]ראתם‬ ̊ 5‫[]ל[צאת‬
̊ ‫מהר‬
̊ ̊‫ [ ]י‬13
‫ב]י̇ דך אלהעי‬ [ 14

3  For an overview of scholarship on 4Q47 see Armin Lange, Handbuch der Textfunde vom Toten
Meer: Band 1: Die Handschriften biblischer Bücher von Qumran und den anderen Fundorten
(Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009), 187–89; Emanuel Tov, “Literary Development of the Book
of Joshua as Reflected in the MT, the LXX, and 4QJosha,” in The Book of Joshua, ed. Ed Noort,
BETL 250 (Leuven: Peeters, 2012), 65–85; Tov, Textual Criticism of the Hebrew Bible, 3rd rev. ed.
(Minneapolis: Fortress, 2012), 314–16.
4  Ulrich’s text (DJD 14:150) is reproduced here with a few changes (explained below) and mini-
mal reconstructions. On the Septuagint version of Joshua see the recent overview by Michaël
N. van der Meer, “Joshua,” in T&T Clark Companion to the Septuagint, ed. James K. Aitken
(London: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2015), 86–101.
5  Ulrich, DJD 14:150, reads and restores ‫מהר[ו‬ ̊ ̊‫]י‬. On PAM 43.060 the upper tip of a lamed is
visible (noted also by Mazor and van der Meer). It is rather close to the resh; hence the pro-
posed reconstruction: ‫מהר[] ̊ל[צאת‬̊ ̊‫]י‬. Lea Mazor, “The Septuagint Translation of the Book of
Joshua—Its Contribition to the Understanding of the Textual Transmission of the Book and
Its Literary and Ideological Development” (PhD diss., Hebrew University, 1994), 55 (Hebrew);
Michaël N. van der Meer, Formation and Reformulation, VTSup 102 (Leiden: Brill, 2004), 461
n. 98.
154 Feldman

Frg. 15 containing the endings of lines 10–14 is noteworthy on two counts. First,
the last line in this fragment is inscribed by a different hand, “in larger letters,
in different ink.”6 Second, it seems to preserve a bottom margin.
Several scholars observe that the blank space under the phrase ‫]ידך אלהעי‬
could be a bottom margin, yet discard it for two main reasons. First, Emanuel
Tov points out that the surface of the fragment is damaged precisely where
the letters might have appeared and cautions that some of the parchment

Figure 1 PAM 42.273.

courtesy of Israel Antiquities Authority

6  Ulrich, DJD 14:150.

4Q47 (4QJosh a ): An Abbreviated Text ? 155

could have flaked off.7 Second, Ulrich and van der Meer consider a bottom
margin implausible as their overall reconstruction of this scroll as a running
text of Joshua 5–10 requires 27–30 lines of text. Ulrich resolves this difficulty by
suggesting that this is a vacat.8 Van der Meer, firmly convinced that the blank
space in question can only be a bottom margin, proposes that frg. 15 comes
from another column or from a different scroll.9 These arguments are not with-
out flaws. First, the images of frg. 15 indicate that there is enough surface with
no marks of peeling to preserve at least some traces of writing. Second, the
solutions offered to uphold a reconstruction of col. 5 as containing 27–30 lines
are unconvincing. As van der Meer observes, a vacat in the envisioned line 19
would be “highly surprising from a narrative point of view.”10 Moreover, the
wording of frg. 15 clearly belongs with Josh 8:10–18, and Ulrich’s placement of
this fragment in col. 5 is plausible.11 In light of these considerations, it seems
reasonable to pursue a reconstruction assuming that frg. 15 preserves the left
bottom corner of col. 5. What are the ramifications of such an assumption?
The data gleaned from other Dead Sea Scrolls suggest that the number of lines
in a given scroll tends to be consistent.12 Hence, it is likely that other columns
of 4Q47 also had some 14 lines of text.13 This leads to a conclusion that the
scroll’s text of Joshua 4–10 must have been about half as long as that of the
MT. The following analysis of cols. 5 and 1 indicates that these columns indeed
yield shorter texts, respectively, of Joshua 8 and 4–5.

7  Tov, “Literary Development,” 68 n. 17.

8  Ulrich, DJD 14:150. Thus also Puech, “Copies du livre Josué,” 490–91 and n. 19.
9  Van der Meer, Formation, 463. To support his argument, he claims that the reading ‫וישובו‬
(line 11), which he understands to refer to a return of an army, makes little sense in the
context of Josh 8:11 (reading ‫)ויגשו ויבאו‬. However, the reconstruction ‫ [ויבאו‬/ ‫וישובו‬
(Mazor, “Septuagint Translation,” 224) describes rather well the second attempt at subdu-
ing the city.
10  Van der Meer, Formation, 463. The extant fragments of the scroll contain several blank
spaces (col. 4; frgs. 19–22) corresponding to the Masoretic division into parshiyyot.
11  Van der Meer himself (Formation, 464) acknowledges the fact that the handwriting and
the skin of frg. 15 closely resemble those of the rest of the fragments associated with 4Q47
and that its separation from this scroll is rather improbable.
12  Emanuel Tov, Scribal Practices and Approaches Reflected in the Texts Found in the Judean
Desert, STDJ 54 (Leiden: Brill, 2004), 93–94.
13  In fact, the other extant columns of 4QJosha preserve no more than eleven lines. Even if
one assumes that frgs. 17–18 and 19–22 belong with the same column and restores the text
missing in between them with the MT, the obtained column will amount to 15 lines. See
van der Meer, Formation, 515. Puech’s reconstruction (“Copies du livre Josué,” 494) posits
16 lines of text.
156 Feldman

Reconstructing Column 5 with MT and LXX

The extant text of col. 5 features the following variant readings:14

8:4 (3) ‫ לעיר [ אל העיר‬M > G

8:6 (5) [‫עד‬̊ ]>G
8:7 (7) ‫ ] ̊את‬M ] εἰς G
8:8 (8) [‫באש‬̊ ‫ את הע]י̊ ר‬M ] > G
8:10 (10) ‫ ו] ̊הזקנים‬G ] ‫ וזקני ישראל‬M
8:11 (11) [ ‫ עלו ויגשו] וישובו‬M ἀνέβησαν καὶ πορευόμενοι G
8:14 (13) ‫מהר[] ̊ל[צאת‬̊ ̊‫ וימהרו וישכימו ויצאו ] ]י‬M ἔσπευσεν καὶ ἐξῆλθεν (‫ )ימהר ויצא‬G
8:14 (13) ‫ לק] ̊ראתם‬G15 ] ‫ לקראת ישראל‬M
8:18 (14) ‫ אלהעי‬M (‫ ] )אל העי‬ἐπὶ τὴν πόλιν G

This list reveals several readings that are slightly shorter than those found in
the MT and LXX Joshua. However, the major divergences between the wording
of Joshua 8 as found in col. 5 and the MT and LXX versions of this chapter come
to the fore when one attempts to reconstruct col. 5 with these texts. Col. 5 re-
stored with MT Joshua reads as follows:

top margin
]‫המלחמה[ לעלות העי ויבחר יהושוע שלשים אלף איש‬ ̊ ‫יהושוע וכל עם‬3 1
]‫ויצו אתם לאמר ראו אתם ארבים‬4 ‫וישלחם ̊ל[ילה‬̊ ‫ גבורי החיל‬2
]‫מאח[רי העיר אל תרחיקו מן העיר מאד והייתם כלכם נכנים‬ ̊ ‫ אל העיר‬3
]‫ואני וכל[ העם אשר אתי נקרב אל העיר והיה כי יצאו לקראתנו כאשר‬5 4
]‫עד[ התיקנו אותם מן העיר‬ ̊ ‫ויצאו‬6 ‫בר ̊א ̊ש[נה ונסנו לפניהם‬
̊ ‫]א ̇ח ̇רינו‬ ̇ 5
] ‫ואתם תקמו מהאורב‬7 ‫ [כי יאמרו נסים לפנינו כאשר בראשנה ונסנו לפניהם‬6
]‫והיה כתפשכם את העיר תציתו‬8 ‫]את הע[יר ונתנה יהוה אלהיכם בידכם‬ ̊ ‫ [והורשתם‬7
]‫וישלחם יהושוע‬9 ‫באש[ כדבר יהוה תעשו ראו צויתי אתכם‬ ̊ ‫ [את הע]י̊ ר‬8
‫ויל]כו ̊א ̊ל[ המארב וישבו בין בית אל ובין העי מים לעי וילן יהושוע בלילה ההוא בתוך‬̇ [ 9
]‫העם‬
̊ ‫וישכם יהושוע בבקר ויפקד את העם ויעל הוא‬10[ 10
‫ו]הזקנים‬

14  M stands for the Masoretic Text and G for the Septuagint.
15  The LXX reads here εἰς συνάντησιν αὐτοῖς ἐπ’ εὐθεíας. Mazor, “Septuagint Translation,”
450 n. 8, suggests that the reading before the Greek translator was ‫לקראתם ישראל‬. For
her, this is an attempt to preserve two readings, ‫ לקראתם‬and ‫לקראת ישראל‬. The scribe,
whose main text read ‫לקראתם‬, wrote ‫ ישראל‬between the lines. Later on, this gloss got
into the main text. To make sense of this reading, the LXX translator read ‫ ישראל‬as ‫ישר‬
‫ אל‬and rendered it as ἐπ’ εὐθεíας.
‫? ‪4Q47 (4QJosh a ): An Abbreviated Text‬‬ ‫‪157‬‬

‫‪[ 11‬לפני העם העי ‪11‬וכל העם המלחמה אשר   ̇‬

‫א]תו וישובו‬
‫העי̊ [ר ויחנו מצפון לעי והגי בינו ובין העי ‪12‬ויקח כחמשת אלפים איש וישם‬
‫‪[ 12‬ויבאו נגד ] ̊‬
‫אותם ארב בין בית אל ובין העי מים לעיר ‪13‬וישימו העם את כל המחנה אשר מצפון לעיר‬
‫ואת עקבו מים לעיר וילך יהושוע בלילה ההוא בתוך העמק ‪14‬ויהי] כראות‬
‫לק]ראתם‬
‫̊‬ ‫[]ל[צאת הוא ואנשי העיר  ‬ ‫מהר ̊‬
‫̊‬ ‫‪[ 13‬מלך העי ו]י̊‬
‫למלחמה הוא וכל עמו למועד לפני הערבה והוא לא ידע כי ארב לו מאחרי העיר ‪15‬וינגעו‬
‫יהושוע וכל ישראל לפניהם וינסו דרך המדבר ‪16‬ויזעקו כל העם אשר בעיר לרדף אחריהם‬
‫וירדפו אחרי יהושוע וינתקו מן העיר ‪17‬ולא נשאר איש בעי ובית אל אשר לא יצאו אחרי‬
‫ישראל ויעזבו את העיר פתוחה וירדפו אחרי ישראל‬
‫‪18[ 14‬ויאמר יהוה אל יהושוע נטה בכידון אשר ב]י̇ דך אלהעי‬
‫‪bottom margin‬‬

‫‪The reconstruction of col. 5 with the MT produces fairly reasonable results in‬‬
‫‪lines 1–8. Yet, line 9, unless some of its text is fitted into line 10, is excessively‬‬
‫‪long. At the same time, lines 10, 11, and 13 tend to be shorter than lines 1–8. It‬‬
‫‪is in these lines that the scroll’s wording frequently does not match the MT.16‬‬
‫‪Hence, some tweaking of the MT’s text is required to fit it into the lacunae.17‬‬
‫‪Most importantly, lines 12–14 cannot accommodate the MT text of vv. 11b–13‬‬
‫‪and 14b–17.‬‬
‫‪A reconstruction of col. 5 with the retroverted Greek text of LXX Joshua 8‬‬
‫‪yields the following results:18‬‬

‫‪top margin‬‬
‫המלחמה[ לעלות העי ויבחר יהושוע שלשים אלף איש]‬ ‫̊‬ ‫‪3 1‬יהושוע וכל עם‬
‫וישלחם ̊ל[ילה ‪4‬ויצו אתם לאמר אתם ארבים]‬ ‫̊‬ ‫‪ 2‬גבורי החיל‬
‫מאח[רי העיר אל תרחיקו מן העיר והייתם כלכם נכנים]‬ ‫̊‬ ‫‪ 3‬אל העיר‬
‫‪5 4‬ואני וכל[ אשר אתי נקרב אל העיר והיה כי יצאו ישבי העי לקראתנו כאשר]‬
‫עד[ התיקנו אותם מן העיר]‬ ‫בר ̊א ̊ש[נה ונסנו לפניהם ‪6‬וכי יצאו ̊‬
‫]א ̇ח ̇רינו ̊‬ ‫‪̇ 5‬‬
‫‪[ 6‬כי יאמרו נסים המה לפנינו כאשר בראשנה ‪7‬ואתם תקמו מהאורב]‬
‫‪[ 7‬והורשתם ] ̊את הע[יר               תציתו]‬
‫באש[ כדבר הזה תעשו ראו צויתי אתכם ‪9‬וישלחם יהושוע]‬ ‫̊‬ ‫‪8[ 8‬את הע]י̊ ר‬
‫ויל]כו ̊א ̊ל[ המארב וישבו בין בית אל ובין העי מים לעי]‬ ‫̇‬ ‫‪[ 9‬‬
‫‪10[ 10‬וישכם יהושוע בבקר ויפקד את העם ויעל הוא ̊‬
‫ו]הזקנים‬
‫‪[ 11‬לפני העם העי ‪11‬וכל העם המלחמה אשר     ̇‬
‫א]תו וישובו‬

‫  ‪16‬‬‫מהר[] ̊ל[צאת ‪ (line 11),‬וישובו ‪ (line 10),‬ו] ̊הזקנים‬

‫̊‬ ‫‪ (line 13).‬לק] ̊ראתם ‪,‬י]י̊‬
‫‪17  Cf. Puech’s recent reconstruction of these lines, where he is forced to modify the MT text‬‬
‫‪significantly (“Copies du livre Josué,” 490).‬‬
‫”‪18  I follow here the retroverted Greek text proposed by Mazor, “Septuagint Translation,‬‬
‫‪211–13.‬‬
158 Feldman

‫ויהי] כראות‬14 ‫העי̊ [ר מקדם ומארב העיר מים‬

̊ ] ‫ [ויבאו נגד‬12
‫[]ל[צאת       לק] ̊ראתם‬ ̊ ‫מהר‬
̊ ̊‫ [מלך העי ו]י‬13
‫וירא וינס‬15 ‫למלחמה הוא וכל העם אשר עמו והוא לא ידע כי ארב לו מאחרי העיר‬
‫ולא נשאר איש בעי‬17 ‫וירדפו אחרי בני ישראל וינתקו מן העיר‬16 ‫יהושוע וישראל מפניהם‬
‫אשר לא רדפו אחרי ישראל ויעזבו את העיר פתוחה וירדפו אחרי ישראל‬
‫ויאמר יהוה אל יהושוע נטה ידך בכידון אשר ב]י̇ דך אלהעי‬18[ 14
bottom margin

The fluctuation in the length of lines is less pronounced in this text, though
lines 9–13 are shorter than lines 1–6, 8. Some of the retroverted Greek requires
adjustments to fit the extant text of the scroll, which has wording that is ab-
sent in, or different from, the LXX (but present in the MT).19 Verse 7 in LXX is
clearly too short for line 7. And although the shorter Greek text, lacking much
of vv. 11b–13, fits better than the MT in lines 11–13, the scroll clearly goes its own
way here. Neither ‫ וישובו‬of line 11 nor ‫מהר[] ̊ל[צאת‬
̊ ̊‫ ו]י‬of line 13 matches the pre-
sumed Hebrew Vorlage of the LXX. Moreover, the retroverted Greek text is too
short for lines 11 and 13. Most importantly for the present argument, the scroll
seems to omit Josh 8:11b–17 (lines 13–14).

Column 1

Col. 1 also features a shorter text of Joshua. This column contains: a. Josh
8:34b–35, b. an expansion paraphrasing Josh 4:18, c. Josh 5:2–7:20

‫שה[ את יה]ו̇ שוע אשר לא קרא יהשע‬

̇ ‫לא היה דבר מכל ̇צוה ̇מ‬8:35 ‫[בספר ] ̇ה ̊תורה‬8:34 1
‫נגד כל‬
] [ ̇‫הירד[ן ]ו̊ הנשים והטף והג[ר] ההולך בקרבם אחר אשר נתקו‬
̇ ‫ [ישראל בעברם ]את‬2

19  ‫ר‬
 ‫( אל העי‬line 3), ‫עד[ התיקנו‬ ̊ (line 5), ‫( [והורשתם ] ̊את הע[יר‬line 7), [‫באש‬̊ ‫[את הע]י̊ ר‬
(line 8), ‫( אלהעי‬line 14). In the case of ‫( [והורשתם ] ̊את הע[יר‬line 7), the Greek reads καὶ
πορεύσεσθε εἰς τὴν πóλιν. Mazor, “Septuagint Translation,” 211–13, retroverts it as ‫והלכתם‬
‫אל העיר‬, yet notes that ‫ ונגשתם אל העיר‬is also possible (449 n. 6). Since the verb ‫הלך‬
takes prepositions -‫ ל‬or ‫אל‬, the presence of ‫ ̊את‬in the scroll may indicate that it reads, as
does the MT, ‫[והורשתם ] ̊את‬, although a construction ‫ נגש את‬is also attested in Biblical
Hebrew (e.g., Num 4:19).
20  The text is that of Ulrich, DJD 14:147, with slight alterations justified below. For a slightly
different reconstruction of lines 1–6 with a particular attention to the size of the lacunae,
see recently Puech, “Copies du livre Josué,” 484–85.
4Q47 (4QJosh a ): An Abbreviated Text ? 159

‫הארון[ מן‬
̇ ‫ נושאי‬22 ̇‫ ספר התורה אחר ̇כן [ע]לו‬21‫ [ ]ל[ ] ̊את‬3
]‫הירדן‬
‫בעת ] ̊ההיא אמר יהוה אליהש[ע ע] ̇ש[ה לך חרבות צרים‬5 2 ‫ [וישובו מי הירדן למקומם‬4
:

]‫ושוב‬
‫צ]ר[ים וימל את בני ישראל אל‬ ̊ ‫י]השע ח[רבות‬ ̇ ‫ויעש ]ל[ו‬5:3 ‫ [מל את בני ישראל שנית‬5
]‫גבעת‬
]‫וזה הדבר אשר מל יהושוע כ]ל[ ] ̊ה ̊ע ̊ם ̊הי̊ ̊צ[א ממצרים הזכרים כל אנשי‬5:4 ‫ [הערלות‬6
]‫ ̇כי̊ [ מלים היו כל העם היצאים‬5:5 ‫מצ ̇רי̇ ם‬
̊ ‫ [המלחמה מתו במדבר בדרך בצאתם ] ̊מ‬7
]‫כי ארבעים שנה הלכו‬5 6 ‫ממצ[רים לא מלו‬
: ̊ ‫בצ]אתם‬ ̊ ‫ [וכל העם הילדים במדבר בדרך‬8
]‫המלח[מה היצאים ממצרים אשר לא שמעו‬ ̊ ‫]אנ̇ ̇שי‬̊ ‫ [בני ישראל במדבר עד תם כל הגוי‬9
]‫לב]לתי ראות את ̊ה[ארץ אשר נשבע יהוה לאבותם‬ ̇ ‫ [בקול יהוה אשר נשבע יהוה להם‬10
]‫ואת בני]הים הק[ים תחתם אתם מל יהשע כי ערלים‬5:7 ‫ [לתת לנו ארץ זבת חלב ודבר‬11

Translation of lines 1–4

1. [in the book of ]the Law. 8:35There was not a word of all that Moses had
commanded[ J]oshua that Joshua failed to read in the presence of the
entire
2. [Israel upon their crossing of ]the Jorda[n ]and the women and the
children and the sojourne[rs] who accompanied them after that they
stepped[ ]
3. [        ] [   ]the book of the Law. Then c[a]me up
the bearers of the Ark[ from the Jordan]
4. [And the waters of the Jordan returned to their place. 5:2At ]that[ time]
YHWH said to Joshu[a, “Ma]k[e flint knives and again]

21  Tov, “Literary Development,” 84, suggests that the scroll might have read something like
“after [the soles of the feet of the priests] were lifted up [to the dry ground, they brought
up?] the book of the Torah.” Puech, “Copies du livre Josué,” 485, reads and restores ‫אחר‬
‫ [כפות רגלי הכהנים א]ל[ החרבה ]את ספר התורה אחר כן [ע]לו נושאי הארון‬/ ‫אשר נתקו‬
‫ [יהוה‬/ ]‫ברית‬. He understands the particle ‫ את‬as “with,” “avec le livre de la Loi.” However,
it appears that a reconstruction taking ‫ את‬as a nota accusativi would be more appropriate
syntactically.
22  D JD 14:147 reads ◦‫] [ל‬. Alex Rofé suggests ‫ [ע]לו‬and so reads Puech, “Copies du livre Josué,”
485. This reading is confirmed by the photographs PAM 40.584; B-496174, where a vertical
stroke with a hook-shaped top, as in a vav or in a yod, is visible. Alex Rofé, “Editing of the
Book of Joshua in the Light of 4QJosha,” in New Qumran Texts and Studies, ed. George J.
Brooke and Florentino García Martínez, STDJ 15 (Leiden: Brill, 1994), 43–80, 78.
160 Feldman

The juxtaposition of Josh 8:34b–35 with Josh 5:2–7 has been variously
assessed.23 Some assume that 4QJosha introduces here the entire literary
unit found in Josh 8:30–35(MT). For these scholars, the scroll’s reading is
superior to that of the MT and LXX (which places this unit after Josh 9:2) and
reflects a different edition of the book of Joshua (from MT and LXX).24 Others
argue, rather convincingly, that the purpose of the insertion and of the en-
suing paraphrase of Josh 4:18 is exegetical, perhaps nomistic. The scroll pres-
ents Joshua faithfully fulfilling Mosaic commands from Deuteronomy 27.25 For
this study one aspect of col. 1 is particularly important. Clearly, col. 1 lacks
Josh 5:1.26 Moreover, if lines 1–4a indeed expand on Josh 4:18, than vv. 19–24
may be absent as well.27 To be sure, since the preceding column is lost, this
proposal must remain tentative. Still, it appears to be a much more plausible
solution than an assumption that the text found in lines 1–4a was appended to
Josh 4:24.
In light of the foregoing analysis of cols. 1 and 5, it appears to be quite pos-
sible that 4Q47, as compared to MT and LXX, preserves a significantly shorter
text of Joshua 4–10. If so, what is this scroll? Does it preserve an earlier stage
in the literary growth of Joshua (than the MT and LXX)? Or is this an abbrevi-
ated text of this book (or part thereof)? The sheer amount of absent material
indicated by the column size (14 lines instead of the 27–30 lines required for
the MT text) seems to suggest that 4Q47 is an abbreviation of Joshua 4–10. Yet,
this does not have to imply that all of the significant minuses detected in col-
umns 1 and 5 (Josh 4:19–5:1, 8:11b–13, and 8:14b–17) are the result of a skillful ab-
breviation. For instance, in the case of 8:11b–13 the evidence of the Septuagint

23  For a detailed survey of scholarship see van der Meer, Formation, 485–96.
24  See, for instance, Ulrich, DJD 14:145–46 (for additional bibliography see the preceding
note).
25  On the nomistic motivation for this insertion, see Rofé, “Editing of the Book of Joshua,” 78.
Van der Meer and Tov suggest that there is no need to assume that the entire unit known
as Josh 8:30–35 was placed here, but only the verses concerned with the reading of the
Torah. Van der Meer, Formation, 513; Tov, “Development,” 82–83; Tov, Textual Criticism,
315–16.
26  The absence of Josh 5:1 may also be understood as nomistically driven. As a result, the
scroll depicts circumcision taking place right after the crossing. On the circumcision as
taking place on the day of the crossing, see y. Pesaḥ. 8:8, 36b. Another rabbinic tradition
postpones the circumcision to the day after the crossing (see ibid.; S. ‘Olam Rab. 11; cf. also
b. Yebam. 71b).
27  This appears to be the view of Tov (Textual Criticism, 315). Van der Meer, Formation, 513,
proposes that the scroll appends Josh 8:32, 34–35 to Josh 4:20.
4Q47 (4QJosh a ): An Abbreviated Text ? 161

may suggest that the scribe responsible for this scroll utilized a Vorlage close
to that of the LXX.28 Clearly, more work needs to be done on 4Q47, including
deciphering the letters in the right margin of frg. 21 which may facilitate the
reconstruction of this scroll.29 While this must await further study, it seems
fitting now to try to place 4Q47 within a wider corpus of excerpted and abbre-
viated texts found at Qumran.

4Q47 in Its Literary Context

In his study of excerpted and abbreviated texts from Qumran, Tov distinguishes
between anthologies of scriptural passages accompanied by an interpretation
and scrolls that string together scriptural excerpts without explicit exegesis.30
With the former belong texts such as Florilegium (4Q174). The latter category
includes multiple scrolls intended for ritual, liturgical, and devotional use.
Among them are tefillin,31 mezuzot, and various compilations of excerpts from
Exodus (e.g., 4QExodd,e), and/or Deuteronomy (e.g., 4QDeutj,k,l,n,q), and Psalms
(e.g., 4QPsb,g,h). There are also two manuscripts containing an abbreviated text
of Song of Songs (4QCanta,b). Since the scribes responsible for these two scrolls

28  On the shorter text of Joshua 8 in col. 5 as an earlier than the MT and even than the
shorter LXX version of the story of the conquest of Ai, see Mazor, “Septuagint Translation,”
244.
29  These appear to be traces of ink “seeping through from the words in the next revolution
of the scroll” (Ulrich, DJD 14:152).
30  Emanuel Tov, “Excerpted and Abbreviated Biblical Texts from Qumran,” in Tov, Hebrew
Bible, Greek Bible, and Qumran: Collected Essays, TSAJ 121 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2008),
27–41. For more on excerpted texts in Second Temple period, see Helen R. Jacobus’s con-
tribution to this volume, as well as Lutz Doering, “Excerpted Tests in Second Temple
Judaism: A Survey of the Evidence,” in Selecta colligere, II: Beiträge zur Technik des
Sammelns und Kompilierens griechischer Texte von der Antike bis zum Humanismus, ed.
Rosa M. Piccione and Matthias Perkams, Hellenica 18 (Alessandria: Ediziioni dell’Orso,
2005), 1–38; Brent Strawn, “Excerpted Manuscripts at Qumran: Their Significance for the
History of the Hebrew Bible and the Socio-Religious History of the Qumran Community
and Its Literature,” in The Bible and the Dead Sea Scrolls: Vol. 2: The Dead Sea Scrolls and
the Qumran Community, ed. James H. Charlesworth (Waco: Baylor University Press, 2006),
107–67; Strawn, “Excerpted Non-Biblical Texts,” in Qumran Studies: New Approaches, New
Questions, ed. Michael Thomas and Brent A. Strawn (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2007),
65–123.
31  See Tov’s contribution on tefillin in this volume.
162 Feldman

“abbreviated the biblical book according to the sequence of the chapters in the
other textual witnesses,” Tov prefers to describe them as “abbreviated,” rather
than “excerpted,” texts.32 One may also add here a single fragment 4QJudga
(4Q49) containing Judg 6:2–6, 11–13. Among the explanations offered for its
lack of vv. 7–10 is that it abbreviates the text of Judges 6.33
With which of these two groups does 4Q47 belong? It appears to take a
middle course. On the one hand, this scroll seems to treat Joshua sequentially,
yielding significant chunks of plain scriptural text, as do 4QCanta,b. On the
other hand, col. 1:1–4a features several textual phenomena that appear to be ex-
egetical. This scroll is not the only abbreviated or excerpted text from Qumran
that resists a neat classification. In his discussion of 4Q47 Tov draws a parallel
between this text and the 4QReworked Pentateuch scrolls, observing that they
“contain long stretches that are close to the MT+, as well as greatly deviating
exegetical segments.”34 Indeed, along with the well-known Song of Miriam (6a
ii+6c 1–7), one of the 4QReworked Pentateuch texts, 4Q365, features what may
appear to be strings of scriptural excerpts (frgs. 28 [Num 4:47–49; 7:1]; 36 [Num
27:11; 36:1–2]). However, close scrutiny reveals that these are rearrangements
of scriptural text, rather than abbreviations.35 Still, one of the scrolls initially
associated with the 4QRewritten Pentateuch, 4Q367, is relevant for this study.
Frg. 2a-b of 4Q367 contains Lev 15:14–15; 19:1–4, 9–15, while frg. 3 features an ad-
dition unattested in other textual witnesses, followed by Lev 20:13 and 27:30–
34. In the absence of a better explanation, Michael Segal tentatively suggests
that 4Q367 is an excerpted (or, perhaps better, abbreviated) Leviticus scroll.36

32  Tov, “Excerpted and Abbreviated Biblical Texts,” 38.

33  See Richard S. Hess, “The Dead Sea Scrolls and Higher Criticism of the Hebrew Bible:
The Case of 4QJudga,” in The Scrolls and the Scriptures: Qumran Fifty Years After, ed.
Stanley E. Porter and Craig A. Evans, JSPS 26 (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 1997), 122–28;
Natalio Fernández Marcos, “The Hebrew and Greek Text of Judges,” in The Earliest Text
of the Hebrew Bible: The Relationship between the Masoretic Text and the Hebrew Base of
the Septuagint Reconsidered, ed. Adrian Schenker, SBLSCS 52 (Atlanta: SBL Press, 2003),
1–16, 5.
34  Tov, “Development,” 85. Van der Meer, Formation, 521, observes that 4QJosha I and
4QRewritten Pentateuch scrolls share a harmonistic tendency.
35  This appears to be the case also with 4Q364 14 (Exod 19:17?; 24:12–14) and 4Q366 2
(Lev 24:20–22?; 25:39–43). See Michael Segal, “4QReworked Pentateuch or 4QPentateuch?”
in Dead Sea Scrolls: Fifty Years after Their Discovery, ed. Lawrence H. Schiffman, Emanuel
Tov, and James C. VanderKam (Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, Shrine of the Book,
Israel Museum, 2000), 391–99, 394–97.
36  Segal, “4QReworked Pentateuch,” 398.
4Q47 (4QJosh a ): An Abbreviated Text ? 163

Its stringing together of scriptural passages, along with what appears to be ex-
egetical content in frg. 3, resembles 4QJosha.37

Conclusion

The purpose that an abbreviated text of Joshua might have served is unclear. It
could have been intended for didactic use or for personal study. That the book
of Joshua was the subject of intense study is suggested by the multiple Dead
Sea Scrolls that rewrite this book.38 Interestingly, one of these rewritten Joshua
scrolls, 4Q379, preserves a nomistic interpretation of the crossing of the Jordan
(frg. 12). Moreover, it is even possible that, like 4Q47, this scroll reads Joshua 4
in light of the Mosaic commands from Deuteronomy 27 (frgs. 15–17).39
An abbreviated scriptural text incorporating an exegetical expansion akin
to those frequently found in Rewritten Scripture, 4Q47 stands at the cross-
roads between scriptural, rewritten, and excerpted Second Temple writings.
No other scholar has done as much to help us understand the extremely fine
lines separating these texts as George Brooke has. This essay is a small token of
gratitude for his scholarship, mentorship, and friendship.

37  As was already mentioned, it must remain unknown which of the peculiarities found in
4Q47 originate with the scribe responsible for the abbreviation and which might have
been in his Vorlage. Hence it is not impossible that this Vorlage, the “unabridged” Joshua
text, could have belonged with texts like 4Q365, which Tov (“Development,” 85) describes
as “exegetical Bible texts.”
38  Ariel Feldman, The Rewritten Joshua Scrolls from Qumran: Texts, Translations, and
Commentary, BZAW 438 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2013).
39  See Feldman, Rewritten Joshua Scrolls, 113–19.
Memories of Amalek (4Q252 4:1–3):
The Imprecatory Function of the Edomite
Genealogy in the Dead Sea Scrolls
Kipp Davis

Introduction1

The so-called Commentary on Genesis A from Qumran Cave 4 was edited by

George J. Brooke and published in volume 22 of the Discoveries of the Judaean
Desert series in 1996.2 The whole manuscript reads partly as a commentary
on a series of pericopae and texts known from the biblical book of Genesis,
partly as a “reworking” of several of these texts, and partly as an eschatological
prediction of the last days. Near the end of Brooke’s reconstructed work (col.
4) there is a recounting of at least part of the Edomite genealogy from Gen 36
which includes an intriguing comment about the ominous future:

1. Timnah was a concubine of Eliphaz, Esau’s son; she bore Amalek to him,
he whom
2. Saul def[eated.] Just as he said to Moses, “In the last days, you will blot out
the remembrance of Amalek
3. from under heaven.”

This pesher is then followed by a citation of Gen 49:3–4—Jacob’s testimony

for Reuben—in lines 3–5, and then 49:10—Jacob’s testimony for Judah—in
the following column, Brooke’s reconstructed col. 5. Jacob’s prognostications
about the last days (49:1) in the form of blessings to his sons allude to an apoca-
lyptic setting.
The dependence on the family history of Esau in this manuscript is used to
introduce the fate of Amalek as a representative of the enemies of Israel, and
by extension, the opponents of the covenant community that owned this text:

1  I am grateful for the opportunity to offer this article in dedication to my Doktorvater, George
Brooke, who remains one of the finest scholars, mentors, and men who I have had the privi-
lege to know and from whom I continue learn so much.
2  George J. Brooke et al., eds., in consultation with James C. VanderKam, Qumran Cave 4.XVII:
Parabiblical Texts, Part 3, DJD 22 (Oxford: Clarendon, 1996), 185–207.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ���7 | doi ��.��63/9789004344532_011

Memories of Amalek ( 4Q252 4:1–3 ) 165

the Qumran Essenes.3 But why Amalek? And how did his persona contribute
to the formation and function of the identity for the group that wrote or mini-
mally collected and copied this text among the hundreds that were discovered
in the eleven Qumran caves? Moreover, how does the interpretative handling
of the family history of Esau in 4QCommGen A factor into the covenant expec-
tations of the Qumran Essenes? In this paper I shall seek to offer further insight
into the meaning and function of the pericope from Gen 36 as it appears in
4QCommGen A, with the inclusion of some additional textual evidence from a
recent manuscript discovery, and in accordance with an appraisal of Amalek’s
persona from a “reputational” perspective. I will begin with a short descrip-
tion of the Edomite genealogy in 4QCommGen A 4 and its function within
the whole manuscript, and especially relative to the exegetical treatment of

3  Defining and describing the community who wrote and collected the Dead Sea Scrolls is an
enterprise that is being met with increasing difficulty. The early notions of an aescetic group
of temple dissidents who formed their own counter religious community in the desert in
anticipation of the end of the world are ideas that are no longer accepted as entirely suit-
able to reconcile the archaeological remains at Khirbet Qumran with the many hundreds
of scrolls discovered in the vicinity of the site. Cf. i.e. the classic works by Devorah Dimant,
“Qumran Sectarian Literature,” in Jewish Writings of the Second Temple Period: Apocrypha,
Pseudepigrapha, Qumran Sectarian Writings, Philo, Josephus, ed. Michael E. Stone, CRINT
2/ii (Assen: Van Gorcum, 1984), 483–550; Dimant, “The Qumran Manuscripts: Content and
Significance,” in Time to Prepare the Way of the Wilderness: Papers on the Qumran Scrolls by
Fellows of the Institute for Advanced Studies of the Hebrew University, Jerusalem, 1989–1990,
ed. Devorah Dimant and Lawrence H. Schiffman, STDJ 16 (Leiden: Brill, 1995), 23–58. More
recent and nuanced discussions of the “Qumran Essenes” appear in, e.g., Alison Schofield,
From Qumran to the Yaḥad: A New Paradigm of Textual Development for The Community Rule,
STDJ 77 (Leiden: Brill, 2009), esp. 21–47; John J. Collins, Beyond the Qumran Community:
The Sectarian Movement of the Dead Sea Scrolls (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010); Collins,
“Sectarian Communities in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in The Oxford Handbook of the Dead Sea
Scrolls, ed. Timothy H. Lim and John J. Collins (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010), 151–
72; Jutta Jokiranta, “Sociological Approaches to Qumran Sectarianism,” in Lim and Collins,
Oxford Handbook of the Dead Sea Scrolls, 200–31; Jokiranta, “Social Scientific Approaches to
the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in Rediscovering the Dead Sea Scrolls: An Assessment of Old and New
Approaches and Methods, ed. Maxine L. Grossman (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2011), 246–63.
For the purposes of this essay, it must suffice for the sake of simplification to use the terms
“Qumran,” with reference to the Khirbet Qumran site, and its residents from between the
second century BCE and the first century CE; “sectarian” with reference to peculiar ideas and
religious distinctions represented in the Dead Sea Scrolls that differentiate the writers and
collectors of their scrolls and the Qumran residents as a Jewish faction; “Yaḥad” to refer to the
wider community or communities beyond the Qumran site that shared various ideas, and
exhibited characteristics as an elite sub-group from the more extensive “Essene” movement
of the later Second Temple period.
166 Davis

Gen 49 in col. 5. Second, I will briefly survey the representations of Esau and
Amalek—who are both mentioned in 4Q252 col. 4—in the Hebrew Bible and
in a selection of Second Temple Jewish texts in an effort to establish some con-
textual grounding to the exegesis in 4QCommGen A. Third, I will present a re-
cently published fragment from The Schøyen Collection which preserves part
of the Edomite genealogy in DSS F.Gen1, but likely in the form of an “apotropaic”
text. This textual artefact serves to contextualise the reputational treatment of
the descendants of Esau in ritualised form. Finally, I shall attempt a synthesis
of the exegetical treatment of Gen 36 in 4QCommGen A in combination with
its apotropaic usage in DSS F.Gen1 in an effort to show how the memories of
Esau and Amalek continued to affect concepts of covenant participation in
Second Temple Judaism.

4QCommGen A and the Edmonite Genealogy

George Brooke distinguished two possible readings of the whole scroll: first,
as “paraenetic historical exegesis,” in which presentations of historical peri-
copae are selected from the book of Genesis containing elements of ongoing
significance for the writers.4 These stories are provided as admonitory vehicles
to mandate an idealistic set of thoughts, ideals, and behaviours for the collect-
ing community. The admonitions are then buttressed at the conclusion of the
document by projections about the last days in which these matters of present
concern find resolution. Second, Brooke identifies a “quasi-legal” layer within
the document which is primarily concerned with demonstrating the justified
possession of the land, and its continuing occupation by members of the com-
munity, the ‫( אנשי היחד‬4Q252 5:5).
On this reading of 4QCommGen A the genealogy of Esau is employed with
a focus on Amalek as the one whom Saul defeated (]‫הכ[ה‬ ̇ ‫ ;הוא אשר‬4Q252 4:1).
The lineage of Amalek is then connected to the instruction by YHWH to Moses
in Deut 25:19 to “blot out his memory,” only with the adjustment that this will
finally occur in the last days (‫ ;באחרית הימים‬4Q252 4:2). This description points
forward to the eschatological event and to the blessing of Jacob in Gen 49:1,
which is then introduced as the next section of the document (‫;ברכות יעקוב‬
4Q252 4:3) and which occupies the text of the final extant column (col. 5:1–6).
In the space of only three lines the author of this text rather masterfully capi-
talises on the memory of Amalek as the offspring of Esau and his concubine
Timnah, and what his final elimination means for the satisfaction of God’s

4  George J. Brooke, “The Genre of 4Q252: From Poetry to Pesher,” DSD 1 (1994): 160–79, 175–78.
Memories of Amalek ( 4Q252 4:1–3 ) 167

promised inheritance for Jacob.5 Brooke draws our attention to Amalek’s de-
scent as an admonitory explanation for why the heritage of Jacob has bypassed
the firstborn son Reuben, in favour of Judah:6 “(Jacob) rebuked him because
he lay with Bilhah his concubine” (‫ ;הוכיחו אשר שכב עם בלהה פילגשו‬col. 4:5–6).
Shani Tzoref has more recently written a pair of articles that explore the
purpose and function of 4QCommGen A in greater depth. She has read this
manuscript through the lens of traditions that appear in the contemporary
composition Jubilees.7 Tzoref argues that the intersection of the three passages
in cols. 4–5 concerning Edom “serve as prooftexts for the fulfilment of Isaac’s
pronouncement to Jacob and Esau” from Gen 27:39–40, but based on the ad-
justed formulation of this episode at it appears in Jub. 26:33–34:

The place where you live is indeed to be (away) from the dew of the earth
and from the dew of heaven above. You will live by your sword and will
serve your brother. May it be that if you become great and remove his
yoke from your neck, then you will commit an offence worthy of death
and your descendants will be eradicated from beneath the sky.8

Tzoref posits that 4QCommGen A and those passages attributed to the

“Heavenly Tablets” in the book of Jubilees all stem from a cluster of shared
exegetical traditions “as key points in a pre-determined and dualistic history
of humanity.” She goes on to say that “these events correspond to blessings
and curses recorded in the book of Genesis—blessings bestowed by God upon
elect patriarchs and their progeny, and pronouncements by those patriarchs
upon their offspring.”9 In her assessment, the election of the patriarchs Noah,
Abraham, and Jacob stands in sharp contrast to the covenantal exclusion of
their sons, Ham, Ishmael, and Esau respectively.10 The family history of Esau

5  On the relationship between Amalek’s defeat by Saul and the commitment by God to his
ultimate obliteration cf. the discussion between Brooke and Moshe Bernstein in Brooke,
“The Thematic Content of 4Q252,” and Bernstein, “4Q252: Method and Context, Genre
and Sources,” JQR 85 (1994): 33–60 50; 61–79, 71–72.
6  Brooke, “The Genre of 4Q252,” 172.
7  Shani Tzoref, “Covenantal Election in 4Q252 and Jubilees’ Heavenly Tablets,” DSD 18 (2011):
74–89, and Tzoref, “Pesher and Periodization,” DSD 18 (2011): 129–54.
8  Tzoref, “Covenantal Election,” 83. Translation by James C. VanderKam, The Book of Jubilees,
CSCO 88 (Leuven: Peeters, 1989), 169–70.
9  Tzoref, “Covenantal Election,” 78.
10  Tzoref, “Covenantal Election,” 80–84. A counter-opinion of the purpose and method
which guided the writer of 4QCommGen A belongs to Bernstein, “4Q252: Method and
Context,” who argues for a more explicit view of the composition as a collection of
168 Davis

then is set as an antithesis to covenant participation and inclusion: the sons

of Esau are thus represented in the figure of Amalek, who becomes the em-
blem of covenant exclusion. But to understand how this is worked out in the
imagination of the Qumran group, we must survey the memories of Edom and
Amalek as represented most prominently within the Hebrew Bible, but also
elsewhere in the book of Jubilees.

The Descendants of Esau in the Hebrew Bible Outside of Genesis

Israel and the Descendants of Esau in Their Entry to Canaan

Esau is presented in the book of Genesis as the progenitor of Israel’s neighbour-
ing nation Edom, who is fairly consistently understood to be an obstacle to
their rightful possession of their divine inheritance. This is first demonstrated
in an incident in Num 20:14–21. On their journey to inhabit the land of
promise in Canaan the recently escaped Hebrew slaves under the direction
of Moses sought to travel through the territory of their closest ethnic relative,
only to be rebuffed by the king of Edom:

Edom answered him, “You shall not pass through us, else we will go out
against you with the sword.”
“We will keep to the beaten track,” the Israelites said to them, “and if
we or our cattle drink your water, we will pay for it. We ask only for pas-
sage on foot—it is but a small matter.”
But they replied, “You shall not pass through!” And Edom went out
against them in heavy force, strongly armed. So Edom would not let Israel
cross their territory, and Israel turned away from them (Num 20:18–21).11

The Edomites deny passage for Israel through their territory on Israel’s way to
Canaan, and they protect their borders in force to prevent entry. Israel’s request
is couched in an appeal to their common lineage: in v. 14 the messengers from
Moses depart from Kadesh and entreat the king of Edom as “your brother.” The
response from the Edomites strikes the reader as particularly callous in light
of this familiarity, and the detour caused a more difficult entry into Canaan by
way of the much less hospitable desert to the south.

difficult texts from Genesis that lacks a precise theological agenda, and is without a clear
connection between successive lemmata: “4Q252 in the form in which we have it does not
go farther than a non-ideological interpretation of biblical passages” (79).
11  All scripture translations follow NJPS.
Memories of Amalek ( 4Q252 4:1–3 ) 169

Deut 2:2–8 recalls this incident in rather different detail, noting that the ter-
ritory of Edom was to be avoided because it was rightly the possession of the
descendants of Esau by divine right: “Though they will be afraid of you, be very
careful not to provoke them. For I will not give you of their land so much as a
foot can tread on; I have given the hill country of Seir as a possession to Esau”
(vv. 4–5). As Israel’s kinsmen, the Edomites are allotted the region of Seir for
an inheritance.12 Bradford A. Anderson has argued that this explicit depiction
of Edom’s heritage is to be understood in terms of the broader theme of elec-
tion throughout Deuteronomy.13 Accordingly, the direct implication of YHWH
as the giver of Seir to Edom protects the reader from a misappropriated sense
of hubris about Israel’s own claim to its heritage, and it also invests YHWH as
“the acting agent in the dispossession of Seir and other lands.”14

Edom in the Oracle of Balaam

Balaam’s second oracle condemning the Canaanite inhabitants specifically
mentions the destruction of Edom and of Seir. The oracle appears to counter-
act the later Deuteronomic tradition about Edom’s inheritance in Deut 2:2–8 by
forecasting their dispossession at the hand of their enemies. The fate of Edom
is contrasted with Israel who is “triumphant,” and will produce a “victor . . . to
wipe out what is left of Ir” (v. 19). Interestingly, this oracle also recalls the bless-
ing of Judah from Gen 49:10, which is set directly prior to the pronouncement
of judgment upon Edom. Verse 17 reads: “What I see for them is not yet; what
I behold will not be soon: a star rises from Jacob, a sceptre comes forth from
Israel; it smashes the brow of Moab, the foundation of all children of Seth.”
Following this, Balaam’s attention turns to the Amalekites—who were also
part of the Edomite genealogy in Gen 36—upon whom YHWH pronounces
an eternal punishment. The pronouncement of judgement beginning in v. 15
and ending in v. 24 encompasses the population of the southern region of
Palestine which included Moab, Edom, the Amalekites, and the Kenites. At the
conclusion of Balaam’s oracle, he specifies the ultimate fate of these nations
as follows: “Alas, who can survive except God has willed it! Ships come from
the quarter of Kittim; they subject Asshur, subject Eber. They, too, shall perish

12  For historical critical assessments of the dependency of these two texts upon one another
compare Moshe Weinfeld, Deuteronomy 1–11, AB 5 (New York: Doubleday, 1991), 165–67,
and John R. Bartlett, Edom and the Edomites, JSOTSup 77 (Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1989),
91–93.
13  Bradford A. Anderson, Brotherhood and Inheritance: A Canonical Reading of the Esau and
Edom Traditions, LHBOTS 556 (London: T&T Clark, 2011), 157–68.
14  Anderson, Brotherhood and Inheritance, 168.
170 Davis

forever” (vv. 23–24). The mention of the Kittim is particularly significant in

light of its occurrence as a commonly used epithet to refer to Rome in litera-
ture from Qumran.15 Its appearance in this oracle as a vehicle of destruction
for Israel’s southern enemies is also noteworthy in conjunction with the link-
age provided to the prophecy in Gen 49:10. The connection with Edom’s antici-
pated destruction was also made in 4QCommGen A.

The Descendants of Esau in the Oracles of the Prophets

Edom features in collections of oracles against nations that appear in Isaiah
(Isa 34:5–7) and in Jeremiah (Jer 49:7–22). While both of these oracles are rich
in their descriptions of Edom’s fate at the hands of foreign nations they differ
from the oracle of Balaam and from the incidents described in Numbers and
Deuteronomy in that they are not clearly imagined in terms of the close rela-
tionship between the descendants of Esau and Israel. Isa 34:8 insinuates that
Edom’s destruction is a “vindication for Zion’s cause,” but the oracle itself is
less directly connected to the family history of Esau. Prophecies against Edom
are also preserved in Amos 1:6–12, 9:11–15, and Mal 1:2–5. Here I shall rather
focus on the oracle in Obadiah and the oracle in Ezek 35—both of which have
a special interest in more current memories of Edom which developed from
the conquest of Jerusalem and exile.
Obadiah’s vision features a harrowing description of Edom’s fate that occa-
sionally echoes Jeremiah’s oracle:

Your arrogant heart has seduced you—You who dwell in clefts of the rock,
In your lofty abode. You think in your heart, “Who can pull me down to
earth?” Should you nest as high as the eagle, should your eyrie be lodged
among the stars? Even from there I will pull you down—declares YHWH.
(Obad 3–4; cf. Jer 49:16)

What is striking about Obadiah’s prophecy is the introduction of new informa-

tion about the role that Edom played in the destruction of Jerusalem by the
Babylonian forces in 586 bce.

For the outrage to your brother Jacob, disgrace shall engulf you, and you
shall perish forever. On that day when you stood aloof, when aliens car-
ried off his goods, when foreigners entered his gates and cast lots for

15  1QpHab 2:12, 14, 16; 3:4, 9, 15; 4:5, 10; 6:1, 10; 9:7; 1QM 1:2, 4, 6, 9, 12; 11:11; 15:2; 16:3, 6, 8–9;
17:12, 14–15; 18:2, 4; 19:10, 13; 1QpPs (1Q16) 9–10 1, 4; 4QpIsaa (4Q161) 8–10 3, 5, 7–8; 4QpNah
(4Q169) 1–2 3; 3–4 i 3; 4Q247 1 6; 4QSM (4Q285) 3 4; 4 5; 7 6; 4Q332 3 2.
Memories of Amalek ( 4Q252 4:1–3 ) 171

Jerusalem, you were as one of them. How could you gaze with glee on
your brother that day? On his day of calamity! How could you gloat over
the people of Judah on that day of ruin?! How could you loudly jeer on
a day of anguish?! How could you enter the gate of my people on its day
of disaster? Gaze in glee with the others on its misfortune on its day of
disaster, and lay hands on its wealth on its day of disaster! How could you
stand at the passes to cut down its fugitives?! How could you betray those
who fled on that day of anguish?! (Obad 10–14)

This prophecy censures the Edomites for their participation in the capture and
plunder of Jerusalem, as well as for their poor treatment of the occupied na-
tion and the exiles. As with the message from Moses to the King of Edom in
Num 20:14, here in Obad 10 the Edomites are addressed by their kinship, “Jacob,
your brother.” And in keeping with the story from Num 20 the reader is appalled
by Edom’s deplorable treatment of a close relative (cf. also Amos 1:9–11).16
Ezekiel’s oracle against Edom recalls the same incident recorded by
Obadiah, and sanctions them for their betrayal of the inhabitants of Jerusalem
(cf. also Ps 137:7–8): “Because you harboured an eternal enmity, and you had
a hand in delivering Israel in their time of calamity, and the time of final pun-
ishment” (Ezek 35:5). Ezekiel’s prophecy further accuses Edom of attempting
to dispossess Israel in an act of clear disregard for YHWH’s claim on the land:
“because you said: ‘Two nations and two lands will be mine; so I will possess her,
even though YHWH is there’ ” (v. 10; cf. 35:2–3). According to Anderson the re-
lationship of this passage to the account in Obadiah is even more pronounced
by the possibility of a textual variant in Obad 17 (= 𝔊), which would also
reflect the depiction of Edom as attempting to “dispossess” Israel.17 Anderson
observes in its placement within the book of Ezekiel, that the oracle against
Edom would resonate with the later promise in Ezek 37 of Israel’s restoration:
in other words, those in exile were reassured that the descendants of Esau who
remained in Judah would not ultimately inherit the land.18 One is reminded
through Edom’s behaviour of YHWH’s guarantee in Deut 2:4–5 where he had al-
lotted Mount Seir to Edom as their heritage. This recollection emphasises not
only Edom’s treacherous abandonment of their kin, it intensifies the gravity of
this offence by alluding to their flagrant disregard of YHWH’s beneficence, and
in turn reminds the reader of God’s election as depicted in Deuteronomy.

16  Cf. Ehud Ben Zvi, A Historical-Critical Study of the Book of Obadiah, BZAW 242 (Berlin:
de Gruyter, 1996), 238–46.
17  Anderson, Brotherhood and Inheritance, 192–94.
18  Anderson, Brotherhood and Inheritance, 198.
172 Davis

These pericopae are representative of a consistent disaffection with Israel’s

closest genealogical and geographical neighbour, but one which had assumed
a different shape as a result of their perceived treachery which occurred at
the lowest point in the history of the Jewish people. And while the imagery
changed in this pivotal period, the feelings of betrayal appear relatively consis-
tent especially juxtaposed to the genealogical relationship that is presumed for
Edom with Israel. New memories are thus formed which cement older ideas.
This image of Edom resonates with the late biblical writers, and is most force-
fully presented in Mal 1:2–5:

I have shown you love, said YHWH. But you ask, “How have you shown
us love?” After all—declares YHWH—Esau is Jacob’s brother; yet I have
accepted Jacob and have rejected Esau. I have made his hills a desolation,
his territory a home for beasts of the desert.
If Edom thinks, “Though crushed, we can build the ruins again,” thus
said YHWH Ṣabaot: “They may build, but I will tear down. And so they
shall be known as the region of wickedness, the people damned forever
of YHWH.”
Your eyes shall behold it, and you shall declare, “Great is YHWH
beyond the borders of Israel!”

The abundance of criticism levelled by the biblical prophets against Edom is

so prevalent that it as been suggested by some commentators to have formed
a “type” in the post-exilic period for all of Israel’s enemies.19 Bert Dicou has
furthered arguments originally made by U. Kellermann that this development
occurred in the liturgical usage of the name “Edom,” which was then applied as
a representation in dramatic form for adversarial forces of all stripes.20
Insofar as the genealogical relationship is concerned, the purpose of the
Edomite genealogy in Gen 36 is believed to have been provided explicitly in
vv. 1, 8, and 19, where in no uncertain terms the point is made saliently clear:
“Esau is Edom” (‫) ֵע ָשׂו הוּא ֱאדֹום‬.21 The author of 4QCommGen A draws from

19  Cf., e.g., Bartlett, Edom and the Edomites, 155–57; Bert Dicou, Edom, Israel’s Brother
and Antagonist: The Role of Edom in Biblial Prophecy and Story, JSOTSup 169 (Sheffield:
Sheffield Academic, 1994), 182–85; also Anderson, Brotherhood and Inheritance, 187–89.
20  Dicou, Edom, Israel’s Brother and Antagonist, 188–96. Cf. U. Kellermann, Israel
und Edom: Studien zum Edomhass Israels im 6.-4. Jahrhundert v. Chr. (Unpublished
Habilitationsschrift, University of Münster, 1975).
21  Cf. Anderson, Brotherhood and Inheritance, 134–36.
Memories of Amalek ( 4Q252 4:1–3 ) 173

the genealogy in conjunction with Balaam’s oracle from Num 24 as “bullet-

points” from history to show a pattern in Edom’s treachery, but also in the
person of Esau’s descendent Amalek. The appearance of Amalek in Gen 36
and in Balaam’s oracle thus requires some further consideration of the charac-
terisation and function of the Amalekites elsewhere in the Hebrew Bible, pre-
dominantly in Deut 25:17–19, which reflects upon the incident in Exod 17:8–16
and then foreshadows what is recorded in 1 Sam 15:1–9.

Amalek in Deut 25:17–19

Exod 17:8–16 and the Battle of Israel with Amalek

Appended to the laws in Deut 12–25, YHWH recalls the Amalekite attack on
Israel at Rephidim, which is recorded in Exod 17:8–16. The story in Exodus
begins with the Israelites already parched with thirst in the place that Moses
called Massah and Meribah, when they are attacked by the Amalekites. Joshua
and a band of chosen fighters manage to drive back their enemy, but the inci-
dent prompts the vengeful retort from YHWH:

“Write this as a reminder in a book and recite it in the hearing of Joshua:

I will utterly blot out the remembrance of Amalek from under heaven.”
And Moses built an altar and called it YHWH is my banner.
He said, “A hand upon the banner of YHWH! YHWH will have war with
Amalek from generation to generation.” (vv. 14–16)

In his instructions to the Israelites on the eve of their entry into the land of
Canaan, YHWH reaffirms his commitment to annihilate the Amalekites for this
egregious attack in Deut 25:17–19.

Remember what Amalek did to you on your journey, after you left
Egypt—how, undeterred by fear of God, he surprised you on the march,
when you were famished and weary, and cut down all the stragglers in
your rear. Therefore, when YHWH your God grants you safety from all
your enemies around you, in the land that YHWH your God is giving you
as a hereditary portion, you shall blot out the memory of Amalek from
under heaven. Do not forget!

This attack provoked YHWH to vow personally that he would “surely wipe out
from under heaven the very memory of Amalek!” (v. 14). According to Louis
Feldman, “the war with Amalek is presented as God’s unceasing war, and it is
174 Davis

God whose pledge and responsibility it is to eliminate the Amalekites.”22 The

Amalekites are depicted because of the incident at Rephidim as particularly
ignoble, for their conduct: “undeterred by fear of God, he surprised you on the
march, when you were famished and weary, and cut down all the stragglers
in your rear” (Deut 25:18). This picture of the Amalekites’ despicable action
also resonates with the later prophetic recollections of the actions of Edom re-
corded in Obadiah and Ezek 35, which no doubt enhanced embittered feelings
about their imagined shared lineage.

1 Sam 15:1–9, Saul’s Failure to Eradicate the Amalekites

Samuel said to Saul, “I am the one YHWH sent to anoint you king over his
people Israel. Therefore, listen to YHWH’s command!
“Thus says YHWH Ṣabaot: I am exacting the penalty for what Amalek
did to Israel, for the assault he made upon them on the road, on their way
up from Egypt. Now go, attack Amalek, and proscribe all that belongs to
him. Spare no one, but kill alike men and women, infants and sucklings,
oxen and sheep, camels and asses!” (vv. 1–3)

The order is given by YHWH as payment in retribution for the Amalekites’

heinous actions of the past. Saul is instructed to offer the Amalekites up as a
“devotion” (‫ל־א ֶׁשר־לֹו‬ ָ ‫)וְ ַה ֲח ַר ְמ ֶּתם ֶא‬: a suitable compensation for their unpro-
ֲ ‫ת־ּכ‬
voked attack on Israel in Exod 17, and recalled in Deut 25:17–19. However, Saul
disobeys this command and returns home with spoils of value. YHWH intends
to remove Saul from the throne for his failure in this one instance: “since he
has turned away from me, and my word he has failed to fulfil” (v. 11). There is
no connection made in this incident to the genealogical list of the house of
Esau, which included Amalek. However, Louis Feldman shows in his thorough
investigation of Amalek in especially the writings of Philo, Pseudo-Philo, and
Josephus precisely how the exchange between Esau / Edom and Amalek be-
came indistinguishable from one another by the Second Temple period.23 This
is fairly clearly demonstrated in the last two surviving columns of 4Q252
where the family history of Esau is understood in seamless conjunction with
the stories of Amalek’s treachery. Both of these eponymous ancestors become

22  Louis H. Feldman, Remember Amalek! Vengeance, Zealotry, and Group Destruction in the
Bible according to Philo, Pseudo-Philo and Josephus (Cincinnati: Hebrew Union College
Press, 2004), 9.
23  Feldman, Remember Amalek, 67–69.
Memories of Amalek ( 4Q252 4:1–3 ) 175

interchangeable representations in early Judaism as symbols of Rome—the

most recent and most deadly of the occupying powers in Palestine.

The Family History of Esau in Jubilees

As mentioned above, the Edomite genealogy plays an important role in a

variety of retellings of episodes from Genesis in the book of Jubilees.24
Jubilees is a composition from the second century BCE that not only shares
close affinities with various elements of sectarian ideology from the Qumran
scrolls,25 it is also a text that seems to have enjoyed a level of popularity for
the Qumran Essenes. Traditions known from Jubilees have been discovered
in 15 manuscripts from five of the Qumran caves,26 and it has been suggest-
ed from these numbers that Jubilees was regarded with similar importance
by the Qumran Essenes as scriptural texts such as Psalms, Deuteronomy,
Isaiah, and Genesis.27 In light of this connection, Shani Tzoref’s argument for
close parallels between the “Heavenly Tablets” traditions in Jubilees and the

24  In addition to this text from among the Qumran scrolls there is also a recounting of
Israel’s encounter with the Edomites on their journey to Canaan (cf. Num 20:14–21 and
Deut 2:2–8) in 4QRPb (4Q364) 23a-b i 1–6. This manuscript is largely believed to be a con-
flation of texts and traditions from the Pentateuch, and the presentation of Edom here
follows suit by conflating Num 20:14–21 and Deut 2:2–8 (see above).
25  Cf. Michael Stone, “The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Pseudepigrapha,” DSD 3 (1996):270–95.
26  1QJuba,b (1Q17, 1Q18), published in Dominique Barthélemy and Józef T. Milik, Qumran
Cave 1, DJD 1 (Oxford: Clarendon, 1955), 82–84; 2QJuba,b (2Q19, 2Q20), published in Józef T.
Milik in Les ‘petites grottes’ de Qumrân, ed. Maurice Baillet, Józef T. Milik, and Roland de
Vaux, DJD 3 (Oxford: Clarendon, 1962), 1:77–79; 3QJub (3Q5), published in DJD 3, 96–98;
4QJuba,c-g (4Q216, 4Q218–4Q222), 4QpapJubb? (4Q217), 4QpapJubh (4Q223–224), pub-
lished in Harold Attridge et al., in consultation with J. VanderKam, Qumran Cave 4.VIII:
Parabiblical Texts, Part 1, DJD 13 (Oxford: Clarendon, 1994), 1–140.
27  Cf., e.g., Peter W. Flint, “ ‘Apocrypha,’ Other Known Writings, and ‘Pseudepigrapha’ in the
Dead Sea Scrolls,” in The Dead Sea Scrolls after Fifty Years: A Comprehensive Assessment,
ed. Peter W. Flint and James C. VanderKam (Leiden: Brill, 1998–99), 2:24–66. There are
growing reasons to challenge the authority of Jubilees presumed from the assertion of
complete copies of the text at Qumran. The highly fragmentary nature of most of them,
combined with codicological indications of their small size could alternatively indicate
the existence of a number of traditions known from Jubilees, but prior to the creation of
the “book of Jubilees” as we know it from medieval Ethiopic and Greek mss. Cf. Matthew
P. Monger, “4Q216 and the state of ‘Jubilees’ at Qumran,” RevQ 26 (2014): 595–612 and
Eibert J.C. Tigchelaar, “The Qumran ‘Jubilees’ Manuscripts as Evidence for the Literary
Growth of the Book (1),” RevQ 26 (2014): 579–94.
176 Davis

compositional programme of 4QCommGen A is especially noteworthy for

their shared representations of the figure of Esau. Tzoref sees this most clearly
in an increasing defamation of Esau’s character in Jubilees even beyond his
arguably poor presentation in several episodes from Genesis. In addition to the
adjusted formulation of Gen 27:39–40 that appears in Jub. 26:33–34, there are
other episodes from Jubilees that have enhanced Esau’s culpability, and tend to
further support Tzoref’s argument. For example, Jub. 25:1 retells Gen 26:34–35
with a heightened concern for purity by way of negative comparison to Esau
and his two Canaanite wives (cf. also Gen 28:6–9):

In the second year of this week, in this jubilee [2109], Rebecca sum-
moned her son Jacob and spoke to him: “My son, do not marry any of
the Canaanite women like your brother Esau who has married two wives
from the descendants of Canaan. They have embittered my life with all
the impure things that they do because everything that they do (consists
of) sexual impurity and lewdness. They have no decency because (what
they do) is evil.”28

Jubilees draws specific attention to sexual impropriety and “lewdness” of

Esau’s Canaanite wives as the reason for Isaac’s and Rebecca’s “embittered spir-
ַ ‫וַ ִּת ְהיֶ ין ָ מ ַֹרת‬, Gen 26:35).29 We know the names of these women from
its” (‫רּוח‬
the Edomite genealogy to be Adah, Oholibamah, and Basmat (Gen 36:2–3).
Contrast this unflattering description of these women with the promise
of Rebecca unto Jacob for a “righteous family” and “holy descendants” in
Jub. 25:12–13: “May God be blessed, and may his name be blessed forever and
ever—he who gave me Jacob, a pure son and a holy offspring, for he belongs
to you. May his descendants be yours throughout all time, throughout the his-
tory of eternity. Bless him. Lord, and place a righteous blessing in my mouth
so that I may bless him.”30 The effort on the part of the author of Jubilees to
increase Esau’s reproach is not by accident, and thus conforms to the pattern
already established in late prophetic texts whereby Esau’s memory is provided
as a vehicle for judgement that would implicate all of Israel’s enemies. Esau’s
depiction in Jubilees runs in accordance with the distinction of Edom as the
antithesis of Israel.

28  VanderKam, The Book of Jubilees (1989), 159.

29  James C. VanderKam, The Book of Jubilees (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 2001), 61; Cf. also
Jub. 20: 1–4; 25:7–9.
30  VanderKam, The Book of Jubilees (1989), 161.
Memories of Amalek ( 4Q252 4:1–3 ) 177

The Edomite Genealogy in an Apotropaic Parchment, DSS F.Gen1

(DSS F.101)31

In 2016 Torleif Elgvin with the assistance of myself, and Michael Langlois pub-
lished the texts and artefacts of The Schøyen Collection, which included an in-
teresting parchment fragment that contains the Edomite genealogy in Gen 36.
This fragment was edited by Elgvin and myself,32 and we designated it “4Q(?)
GenMiniature (Gen 36:7–13)” in part because of its peculiarly small script. The
fragment measures only 3.4 x 2.2 cm, but contains portions of eight lines of text
with an average letter-height of about 1.5 mm. The text of this fragment has
been reconstructed as follows:

4Q(?)GenMiniature (Gen 36:7–16)33

‫וישב‬8 ‫]מ[קניהם‬
֯ ‫ל]ש[את את]ם[מפני‬ ֯ ‫[רב משבת יחדו ולא יכלה ארץ מגוריהם‬ 1
]‫עשו בהר‬
‫ואלה‬10 ‫ואלה תלדות] עשו אבי אדום בהר [שעיר‬9 ‫[שעיר עשו הוא רב אדום‬ 2
]‫שמות‬
‫ויהיו בני̇ [ אלפז תימן אומר‬11 ‫[בני עשו אלפז בן עדה רעואל בן בשמ]ת אשת עשו‬ 3
]‫צפו‬
]‫לאלכז בן עשו] ותלד לאלפז את‬ ̇ ‫ותמנע היתה פי]לגש‬12 ••••‫[וגעתם וקנז וקורח ו‬ 4
‫ובני רעואל היו] נחת וזרח[ ]מז֯ [ה ושמה אלה‬13 ‫[עמלק אלה בני עדה אשת עשו‬ 5
]‫היו בני בשמת‬
‫ואלה היו בני אהליבמה בת ענה ב]ת צבען אשת עש[ו ותלד לעשו‬14 ‫[אשת עשו‬ 6
]‫את יעיש‬

31  The designation was assigned by Eibert Tigchelaar while he served as the editor of the
forthcoming series of revised Dead Sea Scrolls editions (DSSE) to be published by Brill.
The catalogue identifier for this fragment from The Schøyen Collection is MS 4612/4.
32  Kipp Davis and Torleif Elgvin, “MS 4612/4. 4Q(?)GenMiniature (Gen 36.7–16),” in Elgvin,
Davis, and Langlois, Gleanings from the Caves, 141–49.
33  The name of the fragment “4Q(?)GenMiniature” shows the uncertainty of its provenance.
According to Elgvin: “There is some controversy concerning the provenance of the re-
cently surfaced fragments. Eibert Tigchelaar notes that only one fragment has been iden-
tified with previously published Cave 4 manuscripts (MS 5439/1, 4Q364 8a), and that the
proportion of non-biblical texts is remarkably different from Cave 4. He further notes that
most of these fragments are written in crude scribal hands, different from most Cave 4
scrolls. . . . The fragments in this volume are designated by their classification number in
The Schøyen Collection (e.g., MS 1909). This is followed by a reference to the most prob-
able place of discovery, as ‘4Q(?)’, ‘11Q(?)’, ‘Ḥev(?)’, or ‘Mur/Ḥev’, and the name of the com-
position” (Elgvin, Davis, and Langlois, Gleanings from the Caves, 50, 51).
178 Davis

֯ ‫אלה אלופי בני עשו בני‬15 ‫ [ואת יעלם ואת קרח‬7

‫]אלפז בכור עשו אלו֯ [ף תימן אלוף‬
]‫אומר‬
]‫געתם אל[וף עמלק אלה אלופי‬̇ ‫אלוף קורח א]לוף‬16 •••• ‫ [אלוף צפו אלוף קנז אלוף‬8

apparatus criticus34

L. 2 [‫𝔗 = ]אשו הוא רב אדום‬J ¦ ‫ || 𝔐 ⅏ עשו הוא אדום‬L. 3 [‫𝔖 ⅏ 𝔊 = ]ואלה‬
𝔙 𝔐Mss ¦ ‫ ]אלפז בנ עדה[ || )אליפז( ⅏ 𝔐 = ]אלפז[ ||  𝔐 אלה‬+ ‫אשת‬
‫( 𝔊 ⅏ 𝔐 עשו‬γυναικος Ησαυ) 𝔖 𝔙 || ‫רעואל בן ¦ 𝔖 𝔊 𝔐 = [רעואל בן בשמ]ת‬
‫ || ⅏ מחלת‬L. 4 [••••‫ ⅏ 𝔐 > ]ו‬Vrs35 || ‫לאלכז‬ ̇ ¦ ‫( 𝔊 ⅏ 𝔐 אליפז‬Ελιφας)
|| L. 5 [‫( 𝔊 ⅏ 𝔐 ואלה בני רעואל ¦ ]ובני רעואל הוא‬ουτοι δε υιοι Ραγουηλ) 𝔖
|| ‫( 𝔊 ⅏ 𝔐 נחת וזרח שמה ומזה ¦ נחת וזרח[ ]מז֯ [ה ושמה‬Ναχοθ Ζαρε Σομε καὶ
Μοζε) 𝔖 || [‫( 𝔊 𝔐 = ]בשמת‬Βασεμμαθ) 𝔖 ¦ ‫ || ⅏ מחלת‬L. 8 [‫> ]•••• אלוף‬
𝔐 ⅏ Vrs || [‫ܓܧܬܡ ¦ ⅏ > ¦ 𝔊 𝔐 = ]אלוף קורח‬ ݂ ‫( 𝔖 ܪܒܗ‬transposed)

The fragment features a version of the family history of Esau that is otherwise
unattested. Elgvin has suggested that the range of textual differences in this
fragment from the other versions could indicate that it was composed with an
eye to bringing the list of Esau’s descendants in vv. 15–19 into compliance with
those in vv. 9–14. He points to the changes made in the Samaritan Pentateuch
as an alternative for achieving basically the same conformity.36
But apart from the interesting textual questions raised by the discovery of
this fragment is the material question of its exceptionally small size, combined
with its contents. In addition to the small size of the script, the line spacing
and reconstructed column size of this text are both also very small, measuring
4–5 mm and about 7 cm respectively. By virtually every metric, this fragment
bears features of having survived from a very small scroll.37 When attempt-

34  A detailed discussion of the reconstruction of DSS F.Gen1 and its textual variants appears
in Davis and Elgvin, “MS 4612/4. 4Q(?)GenMiniature,” 144–46.
35  The four bullets in the reconstructed text in lines 4 and 8 represent the probable exis-
tence of an additional name not included in vv. 9–16. While we are uncertain about the
identity of these figures, there is some relative confidence in the presence of additional
names drawn from the physical dimensions of the reconstruction. Cf. Davis and Elgvin,
“MS 4612/4. 4Q(?)GenMiniature,” 145, 146.
36  Davis and Elgvin, “MS 4612/4. 4Q(?)GenMiniature,” 148.
37  Davis and Elgvin, “MS 4612/4. 4Q(?)GenMiniature,” 146–47. In a recent paper presented
at a workshop on text and magic at the University of Helsinki, I attempted a comparative
analysis of small scrolls including DSS F.Gen1 in an effort to establish some codicologi-
cal parameters for determining “small-sized” scrolls. This fragment satisfies all criteria of
script-size, line-spacing, and column-width, which strongly suggest also that the whole
Memories of Amalek ( 4Q252 4:1–3 ) 179

ing to classify the manuscript codicologically, the best comparable examples

from Qumran are equally small manuscripts that have been positively identi-
fied by scholars as ancient phylacteries.38 The phylacteries from Qumran are
most obviously recognised as such by their conformity to a standardised set of
texts—Exod 13:1–10; 11–16; Deut 6:4–9; 11:13–21,39 but Milik also observed that
these specialised small manuscripts were clearly distinguishable in their con-
struction from very thin membranes of skin.40 DSS F.Gen1 does not share this
feature, and additionally is not written in the same roughshod manner as the
Qumran phylacteries, which were described by J.T. Milik as “irrégulières.”41
The phylacteries are not structured into columns, are written without word-
separators and frequently by unpractised hands. A handful of other Qumran
manuscripts that do not reflect the same physical features, but were closely
aligned to phylacteries as small scrolls containing the same set of texts were
thus designated by Milik as mezuzot.42 8QMezuza (8Q4) is one of the best

ms. was very small, and very likely only consisted of a single column of text. Kipp Davis,
“Miniature scripts and manuscripts: Physical features for classifying ritual text objects in
the Judaean Desert scrolls.” (Paper presented at Text and Magic Workshop, University of
Helsinki, Helsinki, Finland, 14–15 April 2015).
38  Cf. Józef T. Milik in Qumrân grotte 4.II: I. Archéologie, II. Tefillin, Mezuzot et Targums
(4Q 128–4Q157), ed. Roland de Vaux and Józef T. Milik, DJD 6 (Oxford: Clarendon, 1977),
34–47; also Lawrence H. Schffman, “Phylacteries and Mezuzot,” EDSS 2:675–77.
39  Ruth Santinover Fagen, “Phylacteries,” ABD 5:368–70, 368. The passages contained in the
Qumran phylacteries appear in different orders from those prescribed in rabbinic sources
(Schiffman, “Phylacteries and Mezuzot,” 676). However, it would seem that their contents
were often more extensive; Schiffman has understatedly recognised this feature for only
“some Qumran phylacteries” (ibid.). 1QPhyl (1Q13) contains Deut 5:1–22; 4QPhyl A (4Q128),
Deut 5:1–14, 27–6:3; 10:12–11:17 [recto]; 11:18–21; Exod 12:43–13:7 [verso]; 4QPhyl B (4Q129),
Deut 5:1–6:5 [recto]; Exod 13:9–16 [verso]; 4QPhyl G (4Q134), Deut 5:1–21 [recto]; Exod
13:11–12 [verso]; 4QPhyl H (4Q135), Deut 5:22–6:5 [recto]; Exod 13:14–16 [verso]; 4QPhyl I
(4Q136), Deut 11:13–21; Exod 12:43–13:10 [recto]; Deut 6:6–7(?) [verso]; 4QPhyl J (4Q137),
Deut 5:1–24 [recto]; 5:24–32; 6:2–3 [verso]; 4QPhyl K (4Q138), Deut 10:12–11:7 [recto]; 11:7–12
[verso]; 4QPhyl L (4Q139), Deut 5:7–24; 4QPhyl M (4Q140), Exod 12:44–13:10 [recto]; Deut
5:33–6:5 [verso]; 4QPhyl N (4Q141), Deut 32:14–20, 32–33; Phyl O (4Q142), Deut 5:1–16
[recto]; 6:7–9 [verso]; 4QPhyl P (4Q143), Deut 10:22–11:3 [recto]; 11:18–21 [verso]; 4QPhyl Q
(4Q144), Deut 11:4–18 [recto]; Exod 13:4–9 [verso]; 4QMez A (4Q149), Exod 20:7–12; 4QMez
B (4Q150), Deut 6:5–6; 10:14–11:2; 4QMez C (4Q151), Deut 5:27–6:9; 10:12–20; 8QMez (8Q4),
Deut 10:12–11:21.
40  Milik, DJD 6:36. See further Tov’s contribution to this volume.
41  Milik, DJD 6:36.
42  According to Milik, “pour les mezuzot on utilisait les mêmes sortes de peaux que pour les
manuscrits ordinaires. Elles resemblent pourtant aux phylactères par les dimensions des
180 Davis

preserved examples of such a text, and it compares very positively in its con-
struction and scribal features to DSS F.Gen1.43 This is particularly true with
regard to the quality of the script, in which the tiny words are distinguished by
wordspaces, and the lines are arranged into a neat column.
Much like the phylacteries and mezuzot from Qumran, the exceptionally
small size of DSS F.Gen1 precludes it from having served any practical liter-
ary function. It has in the past been suggested that small scrolls were so con-
structed for their portability, and functioned for private use.44 But a text like
DSS F.Gen1 is so small that it strains credulity to imagine that it served any
function which presumed its readability. Moreover, its unusual genealogical
contents also seem strangely out of place in such contexts. The dimensions of
this manuscript fit more naturally with the phylacteries and mezuzot, which
were treated in antiquity more like amulets. Ruth Santinover Fagen has sug-
gested that the practice of attaching phylacteries as “signs on your hand and
reminders between your eyes” (‫ ;וְ ָהיָ ה ְלָך ְלאֹות ַעל־יָ ְדָך ְוּלזִ ָכּרֹון ֵבּין ֵעינֶ יָך‬Exod 13:9)
was in some ways connected to the ANE prophylactic custom of tattooing
the name of a deity on various parts of the body, especially the forehead and
hands.45 Does this small genealogical list serve a similar prophylactic or apo-
tropaic function? This seems to be the most practical explanation for the usage
of a manuscript like DSS F.Gen1, and it also aligns neatly with the theory about
the history of Edom’s antipathy in the lamentation cult.46 According to this
interpretation the fragment would have been ceremonial and imprecatory in
some respect that connected the names of the family history of Esau with the
concept of covenant inclusion for its owner, who was presumably a member
of the Qumran group.

pièces inscrites, la taille miniscule des lettres, parfois le type d’écriture et quelques détails
paléographiques, p. ex. l’absencede lignes sèches pour guider les lignes texte” (DJD 6:36).
43  Milik, DJD 3, 1:158–61.
44  Cf., e.g., Stephen .J. Pfann and Menahem Kister, in Qumran Cave 4.XV: Sapiential Texts,
Part 1, ed. Torleif Elgvin et al., in consultation with Joseph A. Fitzmyer, DJD 20 (Oxford:
Clarendon, 1997), 7, esp. n.17.
45  Fagen, “Phylacteries,” 370.
46  Dicou, Edom, Israel’s Brother and Antagonist, 188–96, cf. above.
Memories of Amalek ( 4Q252 4:1–3 ) 181

The Public Personae of Esau and Amalek and the Formation of

Community Identity

How does the genealogy of Esau in an apotropaic manuscript DSS F.Gen1 cor-
respond to the collection of proof texts that predict the final demise of Israel’s
most notorious foe in 4QCommGen A? I believe that the existence of this
newly published parchment most plausibly reflects a ceremonial context for
establishing community identity and covenant participation, but upon the
basis of the public personae that were ascribed to the personages of Esau and
Amalek. Memories of these figures became the embodiment of covenant ex-
clusion that was actualised in a performative context similar to the covenant
renewal ceremony in 1QS 2:4–19.
Shani Tzoref persuasively argues for a dichotomy between election and
curse, and inclusion / exclusion from the covenant as a thematic basis for
4QCommGen A. She has observed from other similar “anthologies” in the
Damascus Document (CD 2:17–3:4), 4QAges of Creation A (4Q180), and in
4QCatena A (4Q177) the specification of names as a key idea in each text.47
In CD 2:11–13 we read:

But during those (years), (God) raised up for himself those called by name
so as to leave a remnant for the land and fill the face of the world with
their seed. And he informed through those anointed in his holy spirit, and
who view his truth of the details of their names (‫)ובפרוש »שמו« שמותיהם‬.
But those whom he hated he caused to stray.48

The translation of the key phrase here—‫—ובפרוש שמותיהם‬reflects the cor-

rection of the dittography based on 4QDa (4Q266 2 ii 12–13) where ‫ שמו‬is
removed.49 Significantly, a variation of the same phrase appears in 4Q177 1–4
10–12, ‫מפורשים בשמות‬, where there is a similar fixation on parallel themes:
“eternal blessing, fathers and sons, the specification of names, and revealed
knowledge.”50 It seems from these texts that the remembrance or invocation

47  Tzoref, “Pesher and Periodization,” 136–37, 140.

48  Translation by Joseph Baumgarten and Daniel R. Schwartz, “Damascus Document (CD),”
The Dead Sea Scrolls: Hebrew, Aramaic, and Greek Texts with English Translations, Volume
2: Damascus Document, War Scroll, and Related Documents, ed. James H. Charlesworth,
PTSDSS (Tübingen, Louisville: Mohr Siebeck, Westminster John Knox, 1995), 4–57, 15.
49  Tzoref, “Pesher and Periodization,” 137–38.
50  Tzoref, “Pesher and Periodization,” 140. Cf. also 1QM 4:7. Annette Steudel has recon-
structed line 12 to read‫[וכברי?]ת אבותם ̊במספר שמות[ם] מפורשים ̇בשמות לאיש‬
182 Davis

of names—which plausibly included the naming of the patriarchs or others—

played an important role in distinguishing between insiders and outsiders of
the covenant community.
Interestingly, the so-called “Second Admonition” in CD does not mandate
for any mention of those who were excluded from the covenant, as it does for
the covenant insiders. Those separated from the community are identified
as those “who wilfully depart from the way and despise the statute, leaving
them neither remnant nor survivors” (2:6–7).51 The presence of the impreca-
tory text DSS F.Gen1—which contained the specific inventory of the damned
descendents of Esau—seems to have served a similar function, but one by
which an accursed group was named in writing.52 Relative to the somewhat
ambiguous appearance of Esau as an apparent polemical figure in Jubilees and
in 4QCommGen A, it is perhaps best to consider this peculiar genealogy in this
light: as a collection of names that symbolically represented covenant outsid-
ers. Alternatively, DSS F.Gen1 may point to a practice whereby the inscribed
outsiders’ “genealogy” was part of a ceremonial forgetting: “leaving them nei-
ther remnant, nor survivors” could take place by way of inscription instead
of recitation. The usage of figures and names as representative of covenant

[‫ואיש‬, “[. . . according to the covena]nt of the fathers by the number of [their] names,
they are clearly specified by name, man by man” (Der Midrasch zur Eschatologie aus der
Qumrangemeinde (4QMidrEschata.b): Materielle Rekonstruktion, Textbestand, Gattung und
traditionsgeschichtliche Einordnung des durch 4Q174 (“Florilegium”) und 4Q177 (“Catena
A”) repräsentierten Werkes aus den Qumranfunden, STDJ 13 (Leiden: Brill, 1994), 73. The
reading was made by joining frgs 1, 4, and 2 (cf. p. 61). Steudel assigns these fragments
to col. 10 of a work that is extant in a second copy, 4QFlorelegium (4Q174), but with no
overlaps between them. More cautionary appraisals of these mss have appeared in re-
views of Steudel’s volume; cf. George J. Brooke, “Review of Steudel, Der Midrasch zur
Eschatlogie aus der Qumrangemeinde (4QMidrEschata.b),” JSJ 26 (1995): 380–84, and James
C. VanderKam, “Review of Steudel, Der Midrasch zur Eschatlogie aus der Qumrangemeinde
(4QMidrEschata.b),” CBQ 57 (1995): 576–77. Cf. also George J. Brooke, “Catena,” EDSS
1:121–22; and the short discussion in Jonathan G. Campbell, The Exegetical Texts, CQS 4
(London: T&T Clark, 2004), esp. 53–54.
51  Baumgarten and Schwartz, “Damascus Document,” 15.
52  One is reminded of 4QList of False Prophets (4Q339): a small fragment that comprises
an Aramaic list of “false prophets who have arisen in Israel” (line 1); Magen Broshi et al.,
in consultation with James C. VanderKam, Qumran Cave 4.XIV: Parabiblical Texts, Part 2,
DJD 19 (Oxford: Clarendon, 1995), 77–79. This text was described by its editors, Magen
Broshi and Ada Yardeni as a “card” measuring c.8.5 × 7 cm, which shows signs of having
been folded along its length and width into a square. The existence of parallel holes could
indicate that it was held together by a string passed through them; perhaps also intended
to secure the object as an “amulet” worn around the neck.
Memories of Amalek ( 4Q252 4:1–3 ) 183

inclusion and exclusion was a function of public persona and “reputational

authority” that may have implicitly served to underscore a variety of ideologi-
cal motifs in Second Temple Judaism.53

Conclusion

When situating these texts and traditions together with others in the Second
Temple period, one can discern an increasingly negative depiction of Edom
that begins in the at least the Hasmonaean period, and escalated well into
mediaeval thought. The rabbinical treatment of Esau tends to be highly un-
sympathetic. In their interpretations of Isaac’s blessing of Esau from Gen
27:39–40, David H. Richter observes that the midrashim preserve a somewhat
surprisingly strong disaffection with Esau. For example, in Gen. Rab. 67.2 Rabbi
Johanan wonders about Isaac’s trembling (‫ד־מאֹד‬ ְ ‫ ;וַ ּיֶ ֱח ַרד יִ ְצ ָחק ֲח ָר ָדה ּגְ ד ָֹלה ַע‬Gen
27:33), and resolves “that when Esau went in, Gehenna went in with him.”
Another anonymous interpreter understands Esau’s words in 27:41—“let but
the mourning period of my father come, and I will kill my brother Jacob”—to
reveal his intentions of murdering both his father and his brother: “So I will first
slay my father and then my brother and inherit the world alone” (Gen. Rab.
75.9).54 The poor impression of the rabbis reveals something of the apocalyptic
interpretation that became attached to the lineage of Esau, whereby Edom—
literally “redness”—came to be identified with Rome, presumably in part with
Esau’s distinction as the “man of (red) blood.”55 Richter suggests that this con-
nection is likely to be made through tracing the Edom traditions in scripture.
Beginning in Ps 137, v. 7, indicts the Edomites, who are said to have encouraged

53  For a full discussion of “reputational authority,” cf. Kipp Davis, The Cave 4 Apocryphon of
Jeremiah and the Qumran Jeremianic Traditions: Prophetic Persona and the Construction
of Community Identity, STDJ 111 (Leiden: Brill, 2014), 37–45, 302–6; also Eva Mrozek, The
Literary Imagination in Jewish Antiquity (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2016), forthcom-
ing, esp. ch. 2 “The Sweetest Voice: The Poetics of Attribution.” The appearance of Esau/
Amalek in the Dead Sea Scrolls as an antithetical commemoration is similar in respect
to the development and usage of historical “villains” in collective memory and histori-
ography to effect community ideals. Cf. Gary Alan Fine, Difficult Reputations: Collective
Memories of the Evil, Inept, and Controversial (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2001).
54  David H. Richter, “Midrash and Mashal: Difficulty in the Blessing of Esau,” Narrative 4
(1996): 254–64, 257. Translations in Richter’s article are drawn from Harry Freedman and
Maurice Simon, Bereshit Rabbah, 3rd ed. (London: Soncino, 1983).
55  Richter, “Midrash and Mashal,” 258.
184 Davis

the Babylonian invasion. Then in Obad 8–14, they are more explicitly culpable
for their part in the plunder of Jerusalem as we saw above.
By the time of the Seleucid persecution by Antiochus IV the Edomites
are remembered to have actually burned the Jerusalem temple: 1 Esd. 4:45
records Zerubabel’s request made to King Darius that he would “rebuild
the temple, which Edomites burned when Jerusalem was made desolate by the
Chaldeans.”56 According to Richter, “When the Romans destroyed the Second
Temple in 70 a.d., the metaphorical / historical link between Edom and Rome
was forged that would last for more than a millennium.”57 This is most clearly
illustrated by Rashi’s interpretation of Obadiah’s oracle against Edom, where
there also appears to be a pronounced exchange between Esau / Edom and the
Amalekites, similar to that which appears in 4QCommGen A:

“And saviours shall ascend Mt. Zion to judge the mountain of Esau, and
the Lord shall have the kingdom” (Obad 21):

Shall ascend: Princes of Israel as saviours on Mt. Zion. To judge the moun-
tain of Esau: to exact retribution from the mountain of Esau for what
they did to Israel. And the Lord shall have the kingdom: This teaches you
that His kingdom will not be complete until He exacts retribution from
Amalek.58

It should come as no surprise then that—while subtle—the presence of Esau /

Edom in the Qumran Scrolls drew similar eschatological comparisons with the
fate of Amalek in the last days. The presence of an intriguing imprecatory text
that contained the genealogy of Esau and the Edomite tribes could be situated
in this context: reflecting 4QCommGen A as part of a covenantal commemora-
tion by which the “elect”—symbolised by their progeny in the noble patriarchs
Noah, Abraham, and Jacob—were juxtaposed against covenant outsiders—
symbolised by their alignment with the families of Ham, Ishmael, and Esau.

56  The dating and provenance of 1 Esdras is difficult to determine, however the close simi-
larities between the pericope dealt with here and the parallel text in 2 Chr 35–36 above
suggests that it is reasonably located in the mid-second century bce. Cf. Anne E. Gardner,
“The Purpose and Date of 1 Esdras,” JJS 37 (1986): 18–27, 18–19; Richard J. Coggins and
Michael A. Knibb, The First and Second Books of Esdras, CBC (Cambridge: Cambridge UP,
1979), 4–5; Jacob M. Meyers, I and II Esdras, AB 42 (New York: Doubleday, 1974), 8–15.
57  Richter, “Midrash and Mashal,” 258.
58  Cited from The Complete Jewish Bible with Rashi Commentary at Chabad.org (http://www
.chabad.org/library/bible_cdo/aid/16182#showrashi=true).
 Part 3
Reading Texts within Texts

∵
Texts within Texts: The Text of Jeremiah in the
Exegetical Literature from Qumran

Armin Lange

My friendship and cooperation with George Brooke go back for half a jubi-
lee this year. I met George first at the famous Madrid Qumran Conference in
19911 and know him since then as a friend and critical colleague who is always
willing to interact with new ideas. George’s lifetime passion are the Dead Sea
Scrolls and since his PhD thesis one of his main interests is the exegetical litera-
ture from Qumran.2 Nevertheless, George ventured into many other areas con-
nected with the Dead Sea Scrolls, among them the biblical manuscripts from
Qumran.3 I hope an article studying the Jeremiah quotations and allusions in
the exegetical literature from Qumran text-critically is therefore a fitting con-
tribution to his Festschrift that combines two of George’s many interests. As
exegetical literature, I classify only those texts from the Qumran library that
interpret Jewish scriptures explicitly and not by retelling or expanding them.
My analysis below will argue that all those explicitly exegetical texts from the
Qumran library that employ the book of Jeremiah with any degree of certainty
were written by members of the Essene community.
In total, between seven and thirteen uses of the book of Jeremiah can still be
identified in the exegetical literature from Qumran. Of the eight certain uses

1  Julio Trebolle Barrera and Luis Vegas Montaner, eds., The Madrid Qumran Congress:
Proceedings of the International Congress on the Dead Sea Scrolls: Madrid, 18–21 March, 1991,
STDJ 11 (Leiden: Brill, 1992).
2  George J. Brooke, Exegesis at Qumran: 4QFlorilegium in its Jewish Context, JSOTSup 29
(Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1985).
3  See e.g., George J. Brooke, “E Pluribus Unum: Textual Variety and Definitive Interpretation in
the Qumran Scrolls,” in The Dead Sea Scrolls in Their Historical Context, ed. Timothy H. Lim et al.
(Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 2000), 107–19; Brooke, “The Qumran Scrolls and the Demise between
Higher and Lower Criticism,” in New Directions in Qumran Studies: Proceedings of the Bristol
Colloquium on the Dead Sea Scrolls, 8–10 September 2003, ed. Jonathan G. Campbell, William
J. Lyons, and Lloyd K Pietersen, Library of Second Temple Studies 52 (London: T&T Clark
International, 2005), 26–42; Brooke, “The Twelve Minor Prophets and the Dead Sea Scrolls,”
in Congress Volume Leiden 2004, ed. André Lemaire, VTSup 109 (Leiden: Brill, 2006), 19–43;
Brooke, “What is a Variant Edition? Perspectives from the Qumran Scrolls,” in In the Footsteps
of Sherlock Holmes: Studies in the Biblical Text in Honour of Anneli Aejmelaeus, ed. Kristin
De Troyer, T. Michael Law, and Marketta Liljeström, CBET 72 (Leuven: Peeters, 2014), 607–22.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ���7 | doi ��.��63/9789004344532_012

188 Lange

(two explicit quotations, one implicit allusion, four employments, and one
reminiscence), 23 words of Jeremiah text are still extant on the fragmentary
manuscripts that preserve them. Three cases in which Essene rhetoric devel-
oped out of language from the book of Jeremiah amount to a total of five words
in the fragments that preserve them. Of two further uncertain uses among the
fragmentary exegetical texts from Qumran, four words of Jeremiah text are
extant. At best, the exegetical texts from Qumran preserve thus 32 words of
Jeremiah texts in their intertextual uses of the book of Jeremiah as detailed in
the tables below.4

Table 1 Two explicit quotations of the book of Jeremiah in the exegetical literature from
Qumran

Anterior Text Posterior Text Amount of Jeremiah Text

Preserved

Jer 5:7 4QMidrEschatc? (4Q182) 1 5 3 words

Jer 18:18 4QMidrEschatb (4Q177) 11:6a 3 words

a The scrolls 4Q174 and 4Q177 (on which see below) are cited here from the edition by Annette
Steudel, Der Midrasch zur Eschatologie aus der Qumrangemeinde (4QMidrEschata.b): Materielle
Rekonstruktion, Textbestand, Gattung und traditionsgeschichtliche Einordung des durch 4Q174
(“Florilegium”) und 4Q177 (“Catena A”) repräsentierten Werkes aus den Qumranfunden, STDJ 13
(Leiden: Brill, 1994).

4  For the identification of such uses see my discussions in Lange, “The Text of Jeremiah in the
War Scroll from Qumran,” in The Hebrew Bible in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls, ed. Nora David
et al., FRLANT 239 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2012), 95–116; Lange, “The Textual
History of the Book Jeremiah in Light of its Allusions and Implicit Quotations in the Qumran
Hodayot,” in Prayer and Poetry in the Dead Sea Scrolls and Related Literature: Essays in Honor
of Eileen Schuller on the Occasion of Her 65th Birthday, ed. Jeremy Penner, Ken M. Penner, and
Cecilia Wassen, STDJ 98 (Leiden: Brill, 2012), 251–84; Lange, “The Book of Jeremiah in the
Hebrew and Greek Texts of Ben Sira,” in Making the Biblical Text: Textual Studies in the Hebrew
and the Greek Bible, ed. Innocent Himbaza, OBO 273 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht,
2015), 118–61. With slight revisions, the allusions to and quotations from Jeremiah included in
this article were identified by myself and Matthias Weigold, Biblical Quotations and Allusions
in Second Temple Jewish Literature, JAJSup 5 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2011). I
have also discussed the typology of quotations and allusions and described the methodology
that led to our list in ibid., 15–35.
Texts within Texts 189

Table 2 One implicit allusion to the book of Jeremiah in the exegetical literature from
Qumran

Anterior Text Posterior Text Amount of Jeremiah Text

Preserved

Jer 33:17 4QCommGen A (4Q252) 5:2 4 words

Table 3 Four employments of the book of Jeremiah in the exegetical literature from Qumran

Anterior Text Posterior Text Amount of Jeremiah Text

Preserved

Jer 29(36):21–24 4QList of False Prophets ar (4Q339) 5 3 words

Jer 29(36):21–24 4QList of False Prophets ar (4Q339) 6 3 words
Jer 29(36):24–32 4QList of False Prophets ar (4Q339) 7 2 words
Jer 28(35) 4QList of False Prophets ar (4Q339) 8 3 words

Table 4 One reminiscence to Jeremiah in the exegetical literature from Qumran

Jer 23:5 or 33:15 4QCommGen A (4Q252) 5:3–4 2 words

Table 5 Language evolving out of Jeremiah in the exegetical literature from Qumran

Anterior Text Posterior Text Amount of Jeremiah Text

Preserved

Jer 23:5 or 33:15 4QpIsaa 8–10 22 1 word

Jer 23:5 or 33:15 4QMidrEschata (4Q174) 3:11 2 words
Jer 31(38):31 1QpHab 2:3 2 words
190 Lange

Table 6 Two uncertain uses of the Book of Jeremiah in the exegetical literature from Qumran

Anterior Text Posterior Text Amount of Jeremiah Text

Preserved

Jer 36(43):12 4Qpap cryptA Midrash Sefer Moshe 2 words

(4Q249) 1–4 9a, 9b i, 12 5
Jer 51(28):20 4Qpap pIsac (4Q163) 25 3 2 words

In the first part of my article, I will discuss each of the above uses of the book
of Jeremiah in the exegetical literature from Qumran. Afterwards I will draw
some conclusions and summarize my results by way of a variant list.

Textual Criticism of the Employments of Jeremiah in the Exegetical

Literature from Qumran

Jer 36(43):12 in Midrash Moshe

For 4Qpap cryptA Midrash Sefer Moshe (4Q249) 1–4 9a, 9b i, 12 5 the editio
princeps5 proposes a quotation of Jer 36(43):12. Most of the line is reconstruct-
ed though. Only two words of text are preserved: ‫]י̊ ̇רד ̇בי̊ ת‬.6 The verb ‫ י̊ ̇רד‬fol-
lowed by the noun ‫ בית‬occurs several times in the Jewish scriptures: Exod 2:5;
Josh 10:11; 15:10; Jer 18:2, 3; 22:1. Of these occurrences Josh 15:10 and Jer 36(43):12
include the combination of the same consonants, i.e. ‫ירד בית‬. Although Pfann’s
reconstruction of the fragment and his identification of the quotation are
impressive, they cannot be regarded as certain.7 4Qpap cryptA Midrash Sefer
Moshe (4Q249) 1–4 9a, 9b i, 12 5 is hence of no text-critical value.

5  Cf. Stephen Pfann, “249. 4Qpap cryptA Midrash Sefer Moshe,” DJD 35:1–24. Pfann’s paleo-
graphic date for 4Q249 and even the title Midrash Sefer Moshe were criticized by Jonathan
Ben-Dov and Daniel Stökl Ben Ezra (“4Q249 Midrash Moshe: A New Reading and Some
Implications,” DSD 21 [2014]: 131–49). Ben-Dov and Stökl Ben Ezra argue for a paleographic
date around 100 BCE as opposed to Pfann’s early second century BCE date and demonstrate
that the original title of the work was Sepher Moshe, which was corrected later to Midrash
Moshe.
6  On page 20 Pfann reads ‫ ]ו̊ י̊ ̇רד ̇בי̊ ת‬instead of ‫]י̊ ̇רד ̇בי̊ ת‬.
7  Cf. Lange and Weigold, Biblical Quotations, 361.
Texts within Texts 191

Jer 33:15, 17 in Commentary on Genesis A

4QCommentary on Genesis A-D (4Q252–53, 254–54a) is a much discussed
group of texts. The four manuscripts are regarded as attesting to four sepa-
rate but related commentaries on the book of Genesis.8 The text-critical study
of Jeremiah quotations in 4QCommentary on Genesis A is not affected by
these questions. It suffices to say that 4QCommentary on Genesis A begins
with an introduction reiterating and rewriting selected passages from Genesis
(4QCommGen A 1:1–4:3). After the heading “Blessings of Jacob” (4QCommGen
A 4:3) follows a lemmatic commentary on the Blessings of Jacob in Gen 49:1–
27. In this lemmatic commentary, the famous pesher formula is attested in
4QCommGen A 4:5. This characteristic use of the word pesher in a lemmatic
commentary strongly suggests an Essene origin of the commentary on the
Blessings of Jacob in particular and all of the 4QCommentary on Genesis A
in general. Such an Essene origin of 4QCommentary on Genesis A is corrobo-
rated by the use of the typical rhetoric of Essene texts, such as the phrase ‫אנשי‬
‫ היחד‬in col. 5:5. 4QCommentary on Genesis A employs the book of Jeremiah
by way of an implicit allusion and a reminiscence in lines 2 and 3–4 of col. 5
respectively.

Jer 33:17 and 23:5/33:15 in 4QCommGen A (4Q252) 5:2, 3–49

‫לו] ̊א יסור שליט משבט יהודה בהיות לישראל ממשל‬ [ 1

‫כסא לדויד כי המחקק היא ברית המלכות‬
̇ ̊ ‫ [לוא‬2
‫י]כ ̊רת יושב‬
‫ עד בוא משיח הצדק צמח‬vacat ‫ישראל המה הדגלים‬
̇ ‫ [ואל]פי‬ 3
‫ דויד כי לו ולזרעו נתנה ברית מלכות עמו עד דורות עולם אשר‬4
‫] ̊התורה עם אנשי היחד‬ [◦ ‫ שמר‬5

(1) [. . .] a ruler10 shall [no]t depart from the tribe of Judah (Gen 49:10).
When Israel will rule, (2) [he will not] be cut off, a throne endures for David
(Jer 33:17).11 For the staff (Gen 49:10) is the covenant of the kingship

8  Cf. e.g., George J. Brooke, “Commentaries on Genesis and Malachi,” DJD 22 (1996): 195–236.
9  Transcription according to Brooke, “Commentaries,” 205–6. My translation is based on
Brooke’s but differs in various parts. Quotations from and allusions to Jewish scriptures
are marked with italics.
10  For ‫ שליט‬as “ruler,” cf. David J.A Clines, The Dictionary of Classical Hebrew: Volume 8: Sin-
Taw (Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix, 2011), sub voce.
11  Should be understood as a niphal like in Jer 33:17. For my translation of ‫כסא לדויד‬ ̇ ‫יושב‬,
see below.
192 Lange

(3) [and the thous]ands of Israel are the banners12 (Gen 49:10) vacat until
the messiah of righteousness comes, the shoot of (4) David, because him
and his seed was given the covenant of kingship of his people until the
generations of eternity, because (5) he kept [   ]the Torah together
with the men of the Yaḥad . . . (4QCommGen A 5:1–5)

‫ּומ ַלְך ֶ֨מ ֶל ְ֙ך וְ ִה ְׂש ִּ֔כיל וְ ָע ָ ׂ֛שה ִמ ְׁש ָ ּ֥פט‬

֤ ָ ‫הוה וַ ֲה ִקמ ִ ֹ֥תי ְל ָדִ ֖וד ֶצ ַ֣מח ַצ ִ ּ֑דיק‬
֔ ָ ְ‫יָמים ָּב ִא ֙ים נְ ֻאם־י‬ ֤ ִ ‫ִה ֵּ֨נה‬
‫ּוצ �ד ָ ָ֖קה ָּב ָ ֽא ֶרץ׃‬
ְ

Behold, days are coming—utterance of the Lord—when I will raise up

for David a righteous shoot and when he will reign as king and spread
wisdom and he will do justice and righteousness in the land. (Jer-MT 23:5)

Ἰδοὺ ἡμέραι ἔρχονται, λέγει κύριος, καὶ ἀναστήσω τῷ Δαυιδ ἀνατολὴν δικαίαν,
καὶ βασιλεύσει βασιλεὺς καὶ συνήσει καὶ ποιήσει κρίμα καὶ δικαιοσύνην ἐπὶ
τῆς γῆς.

Behold, days are coming—says the Lord—when I will raise up for David
a righteous shoot and when he will reign as king and and he will be intel-
ligent and he will do justice and righteousness in the land. (Jer-LXX 23:5)

‫ּוצ �ד ָ ָ֖קה ָּב ָ ֽא ֶרץ׃‬

ְ ‫ּוב ֵע֣ת ַה ִ֔היא ַא ְצ ִ ֥מ ַיח ְל ָדִ ֖וד ֶצ ַ֣מח ְצ �ד ָ ָ֑קה וְ ָע ָ ׂ֛שה ִמ ְׁש ָ ּ֥פט‬
ָ ‫ַּבּיָ ִ ֤מים ָה ֵה ֙ם‬

In those days and at that time I will let grow for David a shoot of
righteousness and he will do justice and righteousness in the land.
(Jer-MT 33:15)

‫ל־ּכ ֵ ּ֥סא ֵ ֽבית־יִ ְׂש ָר ֵ ֽאל׃‬

ִ ‫הו֑ה ֽל ֹא־יִ ָּכ ֵ ֣רת ְל ָד ִ ֔וד ִ֕איׁש י ֵ ֹׁ֖שב ַע‬
ָ ְ‫ִּכי־ ֖כֹה ָא ַ ֣מר י‬

For thus says the Lord: not will be cut off for David a man who sits on the
throne of the house of Israel. (Jer-MT 33:17)

12  4QCommentary on Genesis’ reading ‫ הדגלים‬points to a dependency on SP (‫דגליו‬, “his

banners”) instead of MT (‫ ַרגְ ָליו‬, “his feet”). Cf. already Brooke, “Commentaries,” 206. For
the textual affiliation of the Genesis text in 4QCommentary on Genesis A, see George J.
Brooke, “Some Remarks on 4Q252 and the Text of Genesis,” Textus 19 (1998): 1–25.
Texts within Texts 193

‫כי כה אמר יהוה לא יכרת לדוד] איש יושב על כסא בי[ת ישראל‬

For thus says the Lord: not will be cut off for David] a man who sits on the
throne of the hou[se of Israel. (4QJerc 25:1–2 [Jer 33:17])

4QCommGen A 5:1–5 establishes an intertextual web in which it interprets one

base text with the help of another one, i.e. a quotation of Gen 49:10 with the
help of an implicit allusion to Jer 33:17. Of Gen 49:10 only sub-quotations are
preserved in the extant text of the 4QCommentary on Genesis A.13 The four
parallel words between Jer 33:17 and 4QCommGen A (4Q252) 5:2 that are still
extant leave little doubt that 4QCommGen A (4Q252) 5:2 represents an im-
plicit allusion to Jer 33:17.
More difficult to categorize is the locution ‫ צמח דויד‬in 4QCommGen A 5:3–4
which occurs also in 4QMidrEschata (4Q174) 3:11, as well as in 4QSefer ha-
Milḥamah (4Q285) 7 3–5 (par. 11QSefer ha-Milḥamah [11Q14] 1 i 11), and which
is reconstructed for 4QpIsaa (4Q161) 8–10 22(17). ‫ צמח דויד‬has often be under-
stood as deriving from either Jer 23:5 or 33:15.14 That the Essene texts among
the Dead Sea Scrolls attest to the locution ‫ צמח דויד‬five times demonstrates
that it is a Messianic title which developed out of Jer 23:5 and 33:15 but which
should not normally be understood as a conscious employment of the book
of Jeremiah anymore. Matters are made even more complicated by the fact
that other parts of the Jewish scriptures, such as Zech 3:8, 6:12, and Isa 4:2 were
also part of the complicated intertextual web that led to the development of
the Messianic title ‫צמח דויד‬.15 Without other indications, the employment
of the Messianic title ‫ צמח דויד‬should therefore not be taken as a conscious
employment of either Jer 23:5 or 33:15.
Such indications exist though for 4QCommGen A 5:3–4 because col. 5:2 in-
cludes an implicit allusion to Jer 33:17. This implicit allusion in line 2 argues
for a conscious association of the locution ‫ צמח דויד‬with Jer 33:15 in the case

13  The sub-quotations ‫ המחקק‬and ‫ הדגלים‬refer to parts Gen 49:10, which are following the
quoted passage of this verse but are not included in 4QCommGen A 5:1. The best explana-
tion for this situation is that ‫לו]א יסור שליט משבט יהודה‬
̊ as well as ‫ המחקק‬and ‫הדגלים‬
are sub-quotations picking up elements of an earlier and more extensive main quotation.
14  See e.g., John J. Collins, The Scepter and the Star: The Messiahs of the Dead Sea Scrolls
and Other Ancient Literature, ABRL (New York: Doubleday, 1995), 62; Johannes
Zimmermann, Messianische Texte aus Qumran: Königliche, priesterliche und prophetische
Messiasvorstellungen in den Schriftfunden von Qumran, WUNT 2.104 (Tübingen: Mohr
Siebeck, 1998), 117–18.
15  Cf. e.g., George J. Brooke, The Dead Sea Scrolls and the New Testament: Essays in Mutual
Illumination (London: SPCK, 2005), 191–92.
194 Lange

of 4QCommGen A 5:3–4, i.e. for a reminiscence of Jer 33:15 in this part of

4QCommentary on Genesis A.16
Given the reminiscence to Jer 33:15 in 4QCommentary on Genesis A 5:3–4,
this employment of Jer 33:15 is of interest for the textual historian. Like Jer
33:17, Jer 33:15 is part of Jer 33:14–26, a passage found in the MT, but absent
from the LXX. The reminiscence of Jer 33:15 in 4QCommGen A 5:3–4 is thus a
first indication that 4QCommentary on Genesis A perused a proto-Masoretic
Jeremiah text.
For the allusion to Jer 33:17 in 4QCommGen A 5:2 both orthographic and
textual differences with the MT Jeremiah can be observed. 4QCommentary
on Genesis A attests to plene spellings characteristic for the so-called Qumran
orthography.17 It should thus not surprise that the manuscript reads in its
implicit allusion to Jer 33:17 two times fuller than MT Jeremiah. Because
4QCommentary on Genesis A uses such plene spellings often, the two plene
spellings listed below most probably go back to an orthographic adjustment
of the text of Jer 33:17 either by the scribe of the manuscript 4Q252, or by an
earlier copyist, or by the author of the original Commentary on Genesis.

4QCommGen A 5:2 ‫( ְל ָד ִ֔וד ]לדויד‬Jer-MT)

4QCommGen A 5:2 ‫( יושב‬4QJerc)] ‫( ישב‬Jer-MT)

The textual differences between 4QCommGen A 5:2 and Jer-MT 33:17 are many.
They should not distract though from a major agreement with MT Jeremiah,
namely that Jer 33:17 is part of the most extensive passage of Jer-MT as com-
pared to Jer-LXX. Without a doubt, 4QCommentary on Genesis A employed
this long text of Jer-MT. Nevertheless several textual differences between
4QCommGen A 5:2 and Jer-MT 33:17 need to be discussed.

16  Because of this reminiscence to Jer 33:15 or, less likely, to Jer 23:5, 4QCommGen A (4Q252)
5:3–4 is listed under the “Uncertain Quotations and Allusions” in Lange and Weigold,
Biblical Quotations, 360–61.
17  Cf. e.g., Brooke, “Commentaries,” 192. For the plene orthography of most sectarian scrolls,
see Emanuel Tov, Scribal Practices and Approaches Reflected in the Texts Found in the Judean
Desert, STDJ 54 (Leiden: Brill, 2004), 261–73; Brooke, “The Qumran Scribal Practice: The
Evidence from Orthography and Morphology,” in Verbum et Calamus: Semitic and Related
Studies in Honour of the Sixtieth Birthday of Professor Tapani Harviainen, ed. Hannu
Juusola, Juha Laulainen, and Heikki Palva (Helsinki: Finnish Oriental Society, 2004),
353–68; Brooke, “Dead Sea Scrolls: Orthography and Scribal Practices,” in Encyclopedia of
Hebrew Language and Linguistics, ed. Geoffrey Khan (Leiden: Brill, 2013), 1:669–73.
Texts within Texts 195

•
The word sequence of 4QCommGen A 5:2 disagrees with Jer-MT and 4QJerc.
4QCommGen A 5:2 moves the word ‫ לדויד‬to the end of its allusion, i.e. after
the noun ‫כסא‬̇ .
•
4QCommGen A 5:2 lacks the words ‫איש‬, ‫על‬, and ‫בית ישראל‬. The Jeremiah
text of 4QCommGen A 5:2 is clearly the lectio brevior and, at least in the case
of the lacking ‫על‬, also the lectio difficilior (see below).

It seems unlikely though that the 4QCommentary on Genesis A draws on a

Jeremiah text that differed significantly from Jer-MT 33:17. The key to the short
text of Jer 33:17 in 4QCommentary on Genesis A 5:2 lies in the rare phrase ‫יושב‬
‫כסא‬. In the overwhelming majority, references which use the verb ‫ ישב‬together
with the noun ‫ כסא‬are construed with the preposition ‫על‬: Exod 11:5; 12:29; Deut
17:18; 1Sam 1:9; 4:13; 1 Kgs 1:13, 17, 20, 24, 27, 30, 35, 46, 48; 2:12, 19, 24; 3:6; 8:20, 25;
16:11; 22:10, 19; 2 Kgs 10:30; 11:19; 13:13; 15:12; Isa 6:1; 16:5;18 Jer 13:13; 17:25; 22:2, 4,
30; 29:16;19 33:17; 36:30; Ps 47:9; Prov 9:14; 20:8; Esther 1:2; 5:1; 1 Chr 28:5; 29:23;
2 Chr 6:10, 16; 18:9, 18; 23:20; 4QDibHama (4Q504) 17:8; 4QTb (4Q524) 6–13 1;
11QTa (11Q19) 56:20; 59:14, 17. In poetic language the construction ‫ ישב לכסא‬is
employed rarely instead (Ps 9:5; 132:12). Only Ps 122:5 and Lam 5:19 seem to
construe ‫ ישב כסא‬without a preposition.

‫ִ ּ֤כי ָׁ֨ש ָּמה ׀ יָ ְׁש ֣בּו ִכ ְס ֹ֣אות ְל ִמ ְׁש ָ ּ֑פט ִּ֝כ ְס ֹ֗אות ְל ֵב֣ית ָּדִ ֽויד׃‬

For there the thrones of judgment stand, the thrones for the house of
David. (Ps 122:5)

‫ֹעול֣ם ֵּת ֵׁ֔שב ִּכ ְס ֲאָך֖ ְל ֥ד ֹר וָ ֹֽדור‬

ָ ‫ַא ָ ּ֤תה יְ הוָ ֙ה ְל‬

You, oh Lord, reign forever; your throne endures from generation to

generation. (Lam 5:19)

Although the lexemes ‫ כסא‬and ‫ ישב‬follow one after the other in Lam 5:19, they
belong to two different clauses. Lam 5:19 can therefore not be considered as a
linguistic parallel to 4QCommGen A 5:2. Such a linguistic parallel can be found
in Ps 122:5 where the noun ‫ כסא‬is the subject of the verb ‫ ישב‬and expresses
the standing of a throne. It is therefore possible that the 4QCommGen A 5:2
wanted to understand ‫ ישב כסא‬in a similar way, i.e. “When Israel will rule, [he

18  Isa 16:16 reads ‫הּוכ֤ן ַּב ֶ֨ח ֶס ֙ד ִּכ ֵּ֔סא וְ יָ ַ ׁ֥שב ָע ָל֛יו‬
ַ ְ‫ו‬.
19  Jer 29:16 uses ‫ אל‬for ‫על‬.
196 Lange

will not] be cut off, a throne endures for David.”20 Another possibility would
be, that 4QCommentary on Genesis A omitted the preposition before ‫כסא‬.
In this case 4QCommGen A 5:2 would need to be translated as Brooke does:
“When Israel will rule, [there will not] be cut off one who occupies the throne
for David.”21 An example for such an omitted preposition with the verb ‫ ישב‬is
the description of the God of Israel as sitting on the cherubim (‫;י ֵֹשׁב ַה ְכּ ֻר ִבים‬
1 Sam 4:4; 2 Sam 6:2; 2 Kgs 19:15; Isa 37:16; Ps 80:2; 99:1; 1 Chr 13:6).22 The problem
with the latter interpretation is that 4QCommentary on Genesis A interprets
Jer 33:17 at a time when either a Hasmonean ruler or Herod the Great ruled as
king in Judea, i.e. was sitting on the throne of David. The historical reality of
4QCommentary on Genesis A contradicts thus a translation that is based on
the analogy of the phrase ‫י ֵֹשׁב ַה ְכּ ֻר ִבים‬. The translation “When Israel will rule,
[he will not] be cut off, a throne endures for David” seems thus more prob-
able to me. The logical subject of ‫ י] ̊כ ̊רת‬from line 2 is the ruler (‫ )שליט‬men-
tioned in 5:1.
In a time, when no descendent of David occupies the throne of the tribe of
Judah, 4QCommentary on Genesis A emphasizes the eschatological hope that
David’s throne remains for his messianic offspring, i.e. the Shoot of David, the
ruler who will not depart from the tribe of Judah. To achieve this interpreta-
tion of Jer 33:17, the 4QCommentary on Genesis A needed to delete the words
‫ על‬,‫איש‬, and ‫ בית ישראל‬and transpose ‫ לדויד‬to the end of its allusion to Jer 33:17.
The words ‫ איש‬and ‫ על‬would signify that God will always have a man for David
to sit on his throne, i.e. that God will keep David’s dynasty in power in Judah
all the time.23 This meaning of Jer 33:17 contradicts the political realities during
the time when the Qumran community existed. 4QCommentary on Genesis
A understands Jer 33:17 therefore as a promise that God will keep the throne
of David in place for the messianic rule of the Shoot of David and rephrases it
accordingly. This messianic interpretation of Jer 33:17 prohibits also the use of
the phrase ‫ בית ישראל‬because it would point to a ruler of the kingdom of Israel
only and not the messianic ruler of the universe.

20  Thus my translation and interpretation of the passage in “1.7.1 Jewish Quotations and
Allusions,” in Textual History of the Bible: Volume 1: The Hebrew Bible, Part 1: Overview
Articles, ed. Armin Lange and Emanuel Tov (Leiden: Brill, 2016), 440–44, 442–43.
21  Thus e.g., Brooke, “Commentaries,” 295.
22  I am obliged to Raija Solamo for informing me about this parallel. She kindly shared her
insights with me during a presentation I gave at the University of Helsinki.
23  11QTa (11Q19) 59:14, 17 use the word ‫ איש‬in connection with the phrase ‫יושב על כסא‬
to emphasize the continued presence or absence of a member of a royal dynasty on a
throne.
Texts within Texts 197

Although the allusion to Jer 33:17 in 4QCommGen A 5:2 differs significantly

in its text from Jer-MT and 4QJerc, only the fact that 4QCommentary on
Genesis A reads with Jer-MT against Jer-LXX in Jer 33:17 is hence of interest for
the textual historian.

Jer 23:5 or 33:15 and Jer 51(28):20 in the Isaiah Pesharim from Qumran
In cave four of Qumran, five or six manuscripts attesting to continuous pe-
sharim of the book of Isaiah were found.24 According to Stegemann25 these
manuscripts preserve copies of two different Isaiah pesharim, one being attest-
ed by 4Qpap pIsac (4Q163), 4QpIsae (4Q165), and 4QpapUnclassified (4Q515),26
and the other one being attested by 4QpIsaa–b,d (4Q161–162, 164). Both texts
represent continuous pesharim but employ also the specific rhetoric of the
Essene movement27 and can hence be classified as Essene in origin. In two
cases, an intertextual relation with the book of Jeremiah cannot be excluded.
For 4QpIsaa (4Q161) 8–10 22(17) the messianic title ‫“( צמח דויד‬shoot of
David”) is reconstructed: ‫באח[רית הימים‬ ̇ ‫“( צמח] דויד העומד‬the shoot] of David
will take his stand in the lat[ter days”).28 Although likely, this reconstruction
must remain speculative. Even should it be accurate the use of the phrase
“Shoot of David” is of little text-critical value. It has been argued above, that
without additional evidence the phrase ‫“( צמח דויד‬the Shoot of David”) repre-
sents a messianic title that developed once out of either Jer 23:5 or 33:15.29 As
there are no indications that 4QpIsaa refers to either Jer 23:5 or 33:15, ‫צמח דויד‬

24  Of 3QpIsa too little text is preserved. The manuscript could attest to a continuous pesher
on the book of Isaiah but also to an Isaiah quotation which is part of a thematic pesher or
which represents an isolated pesher in a text of another literary genre.
25  Cf. Hartmut Stegemann, Die Essener, Qumran, Johannes der Täufer und Jesus: Ein Sachbuch,
4th ed. (Freiburg: Herder, 1994), 176–78.
26  For 4Q515 as another manuscript of this Isaiah Pesher, see Johann Maier, Die Qumran-
Essener: Die Texte vom Toten Meer, Die Texte aus Höhle 4 (Munich: Ernst Reinhardt, 1995),
2:679.
27  For the use of Essene rhetoric in the Isaiah pesharim from Qumran, see Devorah Dimant,
“The Vocabulary of the Qumran Sectarian Texts,” in Devorah Dimant, History, Ideology
and Bible Interpretation in the Dead Sea Scrolls: Collected Studies, FAT 90 (Tübingen: Mohr
Siebeck, 2014), 57–100.
28  For this reconstruction, see e.g., John M. Allegro, Qumran Cave 4, DJD 5 (Oxford:
Clarendon, 1968), 14 (Allegro counts the line in question as line 17) and Maurya P. Horgan,
“Isaiah Pesher 4 (4Q161 = 4QpIsaa),” in The Dead Sea Scrolls: Hebrew, Aramaic and Greek
Texts with English Translation: Pesharim, Other Commentaries, and Related Documents, ed.
James H. Charlesworth et al., PTSDSSP 6b (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2002), 83–97, 96 n. 62
(Horgan counts the line in question as line 22).
29  See above, p. 193.
198 Lange

in 4QpIsaa 8–10 22 should be understood as a Messianic title of little or no text-

critical value.
Lange and Weigold30 list 4Qpap pIsac (4Q163) 25 3 as an uncertain allu-
sion to Jer 51(28):20. The preserved text of this line reads ]‫[ז̊ רם כלי מלחמה ̊ה ̊מ ̊ה‬
(“]rainstorm instruments of battle they[”). The only overlap between the two
passages are the words ‫“( כלי מלחמה‬instruments of battle”). But the phrase ‫כלי‬
‫“( מלחמה‬instruments of battle”) occurs often in the Jewish scriptures, as well
as in extra-biblical Essene and non-Essene literature: Deut 1:41; Judg 18:11, 16;
1 Sam 8:12; 2 Sam 1:27; Jer 51(28):20; Ezek 32:27; 1 Chr 12:34; 1QpHab 6:4; 1QM
(1Q33) 1:17; 16:6; 17:1, 12; 1QHa 10:26; 14:28, 31; 4QShirShabbc (4Q402) 4 8; 4QHc
(4Q429) 4 ii 12; 4QNarrative Work and Prayer (4Q460) 8 4; 4QMa (4Q491) 11
ii 5, 21; 13 5. Still, the fact that 4Qpap pIsac (4Q163) 25 1 mentions the king of
Babylon could argue for an intertextual relation with Jer 51(28):20, as this verse
is part of Jeremiah’s extensive pronouncement against Babylon. But being far
from a certain allusion to Jer 51(28):20, 4Qpap pIsac (4Q163) 25 3 remains of no
text-critical value.
The Isaiah-pesher attested in 4Qpap pIsac (4Q163), 4QpIsae (4Q165), and
4QpapUnclassified (4Q515) attests to an explicit use of the book of Jeremiah,
too. 4Qpap pIsac (4Q163) 1 4 contains a quotation formula which originally in-
troduced a Jeremiah quotation, but the quotation itself is not preserved due to
the manuscript’s deterioration.

‫ כאשר כ] ̊תוב עלי̇ ו̇ ̊בי̇ ̇ר[מיה‬4

as it is w]ritten about him in Jere[miah

Jer 31(38):31 in Pesher Habakkuk

Pesher Habakuk is among the first Essene texts from Qumran to be published.
As it represents a continuous pesher, employs the typical sectarian vocabulary,
and appreciates the history of the Essene movement highly, there can be no
doubt about its Essene origin. Pesher Habakkuk contains two words that could
be labeled as a reminiscence or implicit allusion to Jer 31(38):31. The mention
of “The New Covenant” in 1QpHab 2:3 is clearly related to the mention of a
new covenant in the book of Jeremiah. While the phrase “The New Covenant”
evolved most certainly out of Jer 31(38):31, CD A 6:19, 8:21 (par. CD B 19:33–34),
and CD B 20:12 show that “The New Covenant” became a designation of the
Essenes’ predecessor movement.31 For 1QpHab 2:3, it is thus possible that

30  Lange and Weigold, Biblical Quotations, 361.

31  Cf., e.g., Shemaryahu Talmon, “The Essential ‘Community of the Renewed Covenant’:
How Should Qumran Studies Proceed?” in Geschichte—Tradition—Reflexion: Festschrift
Texts within Texts 199

the phrase “The New Covenant” is entirely dissociated from its Jeremianic
origin. Like the messianic title “The Shoot of David” (see above, p. 193), or the
Christian designation New Testament for the early Christian scriptures, the
phrase “The New Covenant” is most likely disconnected from the Jeremianic
text it once developed out of and is therefore of little text-critical use.
Furthermore, in 1QpHab 2:3, the first word of the phrase “The New Covenant”
(‫ )בברית‬is reconstructed, which limits the text-critical value of this reference
even more:

‫ועל הבוג[דים בברית] החדשה‬

and about those who bet[ray] the New [Covenant] (1QpHab 2:3)

‫הּודה ְּב ִ ֥רית ֲח ָד ָ ֽׁשה׃‬

֖ ָ ְ‫ת־ּבית י‬
֥ ֵ ‫ת־ּבית יִ ְׂש ָר ֵ ֛אל וְ ֶא‬
֧ ֵ ‫הו֑ה וְ ָכ ַר ִּ֗תי ֶא‬
ָ ְ‫יָמים ָּב ִ ֖אים נְ ֻאם־י‬
֥ ִ ‫ִה ֵּנ֛ה‬

Behold, days will come, utterance of the Lord, when I will make with the
house of Israel and the house of Judah a new covenant. (Jer-MT 31:31)

Ἰδοὺ ἡμέραι ἔρχονται, φησὶ κύριος, καὶ διαθήσομαι τῷ οἴκῳ Ισραηλ καὶ τῷ οἴκῳ
Ιουδα διαθήκην καινήν

Behold, days will come, says the Lord, and I will make with the house of
Israel and the house of Judah a new covenant. (Jer-LXX 38:31)

Jer 5:7, 18:18, and 23:5/33:15 in the Midrash on Eschatology

4QFlorilegium (4Q174) and 4QCatena A (4Q177) were identified by Annette
Steudel as two manuscripts of one thematic pesher which after an introduc-
tion interprets selected parts of a psalms collection.32 Steudel renamed these
manuscripts as 4QMidrash on Eschatologya, b and identified three further man-
uscripts that might or might not attest to the same pesher: 4QMidrEschatc?
(4Q182 = 4QCatena B), 4QMidrEschatd? (4Q178 = 4QUnclassified frags.), and
4QMidrEschate? (4Q183).33 The Midrash on Eschatology is a pesher which
employs the typical rhetoric of Essene texts (e.g. ‫ אנשי היחד‬and ‫ עצת היחד‬in
4QMidrEschatb 8:1; 9:10–11; 10:5) and substitutes the Jerusalem temple with

für Martin Hengel zum 70. Geburtstag, Volume 1: Judentum, ed. Peter Schäfer (Tübingen:
J.C.B. Mohr [Paul Siebeck], 1996), 323–52. For another view, see Thomas R. Blanton,
Constructing a New Covenant: Discursive Strategies in the Damascus Document and Second
Corinthians, WUNT 2.233 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2007).
32  Steudel, Midrasch zur Eschatologie.
33  Steudel, Midrasch zur Eschatologie, 152–57.
200 Lange

the spiritual sanctuary of the members of the Yaḥad (4QMidrEschata 3:1–7).

Hence, there is no doubt about the Essene origin of this work. It was most
probably composed in the years 71–63 BCE.34

Jer 18:18 in 4QMidrEschatb 11:6

‫ כיא לוא תואבד? ]תורה ̊מ ̊כ[והן ועצה מחכם ודבר? ] ̊מנ̊ ביא‬. . .[◦‫] ̇לאה‬. . .[

because] instruction [shall not perish] from a p[riest nor counsel from a
sage, nor a word (of God)] from a prophet (4QMidrEschatb 11:6)

‫ֹּתורה ִמ ֹּכ ֵ֗הן וְ ֵע ָצ ֙ה ֵ ֽמ ָח ָ֔כם וְ ָד ָ ֖בר‬

֜ ָ ‫אבד‬
ַ֨ ֹ ‫ת ִּכי ֩לֹא־ת‬ ֒ ‫הּו ַמ ֲח ָׁשֹבו‬
֮ ָ‫אמ ֗רּו ְל ֨כּו וְ נַ ְח ְׁש ָ ֣בה ַ ֽעל־יִ ְר ְמי‬
ְ ֹ ‫וַ ּי‬
‫ל־ּד ָב ָ ֽריו׃‬
ְ ‫ל־ּכ‬
ָ ‫כּו וְ נַ ֵּכ֣הּו ַב ָּל ֹׁ֔שון וְ ַאל־נַ ְק ִ ׁ֖ש ָיבה ֶא‬֙ ‫ִמּנָ ִ ֑ביא ְל‬

And they said: “Come, let us plan against Jeremiah plans, because ‘instruc-
tion shall not perish from a priest, nor counsel from a sage, nor a word (of
God) from a prophet.’ Come and let us strike him with the tongue and let
us pay no attention to any of his words.” (Jer-MT 18:18)

]‫מחש[בות כי לא תאבד תורה מכהן ועצה מחכם‬

̇ ‫[ויא]מרו לכו ונחשבה על ירמיהו‬
] ‫ודבר מנביא לכו ונכנהו בלשון ואל [נקשיבה אל כל דבריו‬

[And] they [s]aid: “Come, let us plan against Jeremiah a pla[n, because
‘instruction shall not perish from a priest, nor counsel from a sage,] nor
a word (of God) from a prophet.’ Come and let us strike him with the
tongue and [let us pay] no [attention to any of his words.”] (4QJera 12:4–5)

Καὶ εἶπαν Δεῦτε λογισώμεθα ἐπὶ Ιερεμιαν λογισμόν, ὅτι οὐκ ἀπολεῖται νόμος
ἀπὸ ἱερέως καὶ βουλὴ ἀπὸ συνετοῦ καὶ λόγος ἀπὸ προφήτου· δεῦτε καὶ
πατάξωμεν αὐτὸν ἐν γλώσσῃ καὶ ἀκουσόμεθα πάντας τοὺς λόγους αὐτοῦ.

And they said: “Come, let us plan against Jeremiah a plan, because ‘law
shall not perish from a priest and counsel from an intelligent person and
a word (of God) from a prophet.’ Come and let us strike him with the
tongue and we will hear all his words.” (Jer-LXX 18:18)

34  Steudel, Midrasch zur Eschatologie, 207–10.

Texts within Texts 201

The Jeremiah quotation in in 4QMidrEschatb (4Q177) 11:6 was first identified by

John M. Allegro.35 Although only eleven characters are preserved of Jer 18:18 in
4QMidrEschatb (4Q177) 11:6, there can be little doubt about the quotation be-
cause this combination of the words ‫תורה‬, ‫מכוהן‬, and ‫ מנביא‬occurs only in these
two references in pre-Rabbinic Hebrew literature. The reconstructed length of
nine parallel words argues for a quotation of and not an allusion to Jer 18:18.
Whether the quotation was implicit or explicit cannot be determined anymore
because a quotation formula is not preserved. The latter seems more probable
though. For the eleven characters preserved, the extant textual witnesses from
the Second Temple period attest to no textual differences. The quotation is
hence of no text-critical interest.

Jer 5:7 in 4QMidrEschatc? (4Q182) 1 5

‫ירמ[יהו‬
̊ ‫בס ̊פר‬
̇ ‫כ]תוב עליהם‬ ̊ ‫כאשר‬ 4
‫בני]כ ̊ה ̇עז̊ ̇בו̊ נ̊ י ו[ישבעו בלא‬
̊ ‫ [ הנביא אי לזאת אסלוח לך‬5
‫ [ אלהים‬6

(4) As it is w]ritten about them in the book of Jerem[iah, (5) the proph-
et: “How can I forgive you? ]Your [sons] have abandoned me, and [have
sworn by those who are no (6) gods.” (4QMidrEschatc? 1 4–5)

‫ֹזונ֖ה‬
ָ ‫ּובית‬
֥ ֵ ‫ֹאות ֙ם וַ ּיִ נְ ָ֔אפּו‬
ָ ‫ֹלהים וָ ַא ְׂש ִ ּ֤ב ַע‬
֑ ִ ‫־לְך ָּב ַנ�֣יִ ְך ֲעזָ ֔בּונִ י וַ ּיִ ָּׁש ְב ֖עּו ְּב ֣ל ֹא ֱא‬
ָ ֔ ‫ֹלוח‬
ַ ‫את ֶא ְס‬
֙ ֹ ‫ֵ ֤אי ָלז‬
‫יִתּג ָ ֹֽדדּו׃‬
ְ

How can I forgive you? Your two sons have abandoned me, and have
sworn by those who are no gods. When I fed them, they committed adul-
tery and to the house of a prostitute they trooped. (Jer-MT 5:7)

ποίᾳ τούτων ἵλεως γένωμαί σοι; οἱ υἱοί σου ἐγκατέλιπόν με καὶ ὤμνυον ἐν τοῖς
οὐκ οὖσιν θεοῖς· καὶ ἐχόρτασα αὐτούς, καὶ ἐμοιχῶντο καὶ ἐν οἴκοις πορνῶν
κατέλυον.

For which of these should I be merciful to you? Your sons have aban-
doned me and swear by those who are no gods. And I fed them and they
committed adultery and lodged in houses of prostitutes (Jer-LXX 5:7)

35  Allegro, Qumran Cave 4, 72.

202 Lange

Steudel argued that because of the type of quotation formula employed and be-
cause Jeremiah is quoted only in Isaiah Pesher, in the Midrash on Eschatology,
and in the manuscript 4Q182, 4Q182 could represent another copy of the
Midrash on Eschatology. While the characteristic quotation formula ‫כאשר‬
‫בס ̊פר‬ ̇ ‫כ]תוב עליהם‬̊ (“as it is w]ritten about them in the book”) supports Steudel’s
claim, the quotations of and allusions to Jeremiah in the Damascus Document,
the Serekh HaYaḥad, War Scroll, the Hodayot, and the Commentary on Genesis
(then known as 4QPatriarchal Blessings) were known already when Steudel
published her book. Later on further quotations of and allusions to Jeremiah
were identified in Essene literature.36 While Jeremiah quotations are therefore
no indication that 4Q182 is a further manuscript of the Midrash on Eschatology,
with some caution 4Q182 can nevertheless be regarded as a third copy of the
Midrash on Eschatology because of its specific quotation formula. The quota-
tion of Jer 5:7 was first identified by John Strugnell.37 The quotation formula
mentioning the book of Jeremiah and the preserved text of ‫“( ̊כ ̊ה ̇עז̊ ̇בו̊ נ̊ י ו‬your
[] have abandoned me and”) leave no alternative to Strugnell’s identification
of the quotation in the text of the book of Jeremiah. The quotation formula
also marks 4QMidrEschatc? (4Q182) 1 5 as an explicit quotation. Manuscript
deterioration makes it impossible to estimate how much text of Jer 5:7 was in-
cluded in the original quotation. For the preserved text of the quotation no tex-
tual variation is known between the extant witnesses. When 4QMidrEschatc?
(4Q182) 1 5 reads the plural form ‫“( בני] ̊כ ̊ה‬your[ sons]”) instead of the dual form
‫“( ָּב ַ �נ֣יִ ְך‬your two sons”) in Jer-MT 5:7, the Qumran manuscript seems to support
the reading of Jer-LXX 5:7 (οἱ υἱοί σου, “your sons”). But the unvocalized form
of this word written in the defective orthography of MT can be interpreted as
both a plural and a dual form and a Greek plural can of course render a Hebrew
dual. The plene spelling of the suffix (‫כה‬- instead of ‫ך‬-) goes most probably
back to the manuscript tradition of the Midrash on Eschatology and/or its au-
thor. The explicit quotation of Jer 5:7 in 4QMidrEschatc? (4Q182) 1 5 is hence of
no text-critical interest.

Jer 23:5 or 33:15 in 4QMidrEschata (4Q174) 3:11 (1–2 i 11)

Like 4QCommGen A 5:3–4 and 4QpIsaa 8–10 22, 4QMidrEschata 3:11 (1–2 i 11)
employs the messianic title “shoot of David”: ‫הואה צמח דויד העומד עם דורש‬
‫“( התורה‬he is The Shoot of David, who will stand together with The Interpreter

36  Cf. Lange and Weigold, Biblical Quotations, 141–47.

37  John Strugnell, “Notes en marge du Volume V des ‘Discoveries in the Judaean Desert of
Jordan’,” RevQ 5 (1969–1971): 163–276.
Texts within Texts 203

of the Torah”). It has been argued above (p. 193), the phrase ‫“( צמח דויד‬the shoot
of David”) represents a messianic title that might have once evolved out of ei-
ther Jer 23:5 or 33:15 but that has no direct dependency on either reference any
more. As there are no indications of a conscious use of the book of Jeremiah
in the context of its use of ‫צמח דויד‬, the Midrash on Eschatology most likely
did not allude to the book of Jeremiah with this phrase. Hence, the use of the
messianic title “Shoot of David” in the Midrash on Eschatology, as well as else-
where, is of no text-critical value.

Jeremiah 28–29 in the List of False Prophets

In the Qumran library, a small scrap of leather was found which includes a list
of false prophets: 4QList of False Prophets ar (4Q339). With the exception of
line 9 (“John, son of Sim]on”), all false prophets listed are found in the Jewish
scriptures. The language of this fragment has been classified as Aramaic since
its first edition.38 It should more accurately be described as a bilingual Hebrew
and Aramaic manuscript, because only its heading is written in Aramaic while
the actual list is phrased in Hebrew. That a part of the text is in Aramaic could
argue against an Essene origin.39 Elsewhere I have shown that 4Q339 is an au-
tograph written by a bilingual scribe who switched from Aramaic to Hebrew
when he began to engage with the Jewish Scriptures.40 It is unlikely that a
tiny scrap of leather such as 4Q339, was brought to Qumran from elsewhere.
Therefore, the list of 4Q339 was most probably compiled by a bilingual scribe
at Qumran itself. As we will see below, 4Q339 provides precious insight on
which text of Jeremiah was used in the last third of the first century BCE or the
first century CE in the Essene Qumran community.41

38  Magen Broshi and Ada Yardeni published the fragment repeatedly: “‫על נתנים ונביאי‬
‫שקר‬,” Tarbiẓ 62 (1992–93): 45–54 (Hebrew); Broshi and Yardeni, “On Netinim and False
Prophets,” in Solving Riddles and Untying Knots: Biblical, Epigraphic, and Semitic Studies
in Honor of Jonas C. Greenfield, ed. Ziony Zevit, Seymour Gitin, and Michael Sokoloff
(Winona Lake, IN.: Eisenbrauns, 1995), 29–37; Broshi and Yardeni, “339. 4QList of False
Prophets ar,” DJD 19:77–79.
39  Thus already Broshi and Yardeni, “‫על נתנים ונביאי שקר‬,” 50; Broshi and Yardeni, “On
Netinim and False Prophets,” 29; Broshi and Yardeni, “339. 4QList of False Prophets ar,” 77.
40  Armin Lange, “ ‘The False Prophets Who Arose against Our God’ (4Q339 1),” in Aramaica
Qumranica: Proceedings of the Conference on the Aramaic Texts from Qumran in Aix-en-
Provence30 June–2 July 2008, ed. Katell Berthelot and Daniel Stökl Ben Ezra, STDJ 94
(Leiden: Brill, 2010), 205–29.
41  For the paleographic date of 4Q339 in the time of the Herodian book hand, see Broshi and
Yardeni, “339. 4QList of False Prophets ar,” 77, and Broshi and Yardeni, “On Netinim and
204 Lange

Because my transcription and English translation of 4Q33942 differs from

the editio princeps,43 I add it here.
44‫[נ]ה‬
̊ ‫בא ̊ל ̊ה‬
̊ ‫יאי [ש]קרא ̇די קמו‬ ̇ ‫ נ̇ ̇ב‬1
‫ ̇בלעם ב[ן] בעור‬2
45‫ [ה]ז̊ קן ̊ש ̊מביתאל‬3
‫[נ]ענ̇ ה‬
̊ ‫[צד]קיה בן ̇כ‬ ̇ 4
‫[אחא]ב בן ק[ול]י̊ ̇ה‬ ̇ 5
‫[ע]שיה‬
̇ ‫[צד]קיה בן ̊מ‬
̇ 6
‫הנ]ח ̇ל ̇מי‬
̇ ‫ [שמעיה‬7
‫ [חנניה בן עז]ו̇ ר‬8
‫ [יוחנן בן שמ]עון‬9

1 The [fa]lse prophets who arose against46 our God

2 Balaam s[on] of Beor Num 22:1–25:9; 31:16
3 [the] old one who is from Bethel 1Kgs 13:11–31
4 [Zede]kiah son of Cha[n]anah 1Kgs 22:1–28 par 2Chr 18:1–27
5 [Aha]b son of K[ol]iah Jer 29(36):21–24
6 [Zede]kiah son of Ma[a]seiah Jer 29(36):21–24
7 [Shemaiah the Ne]hlemite Jer 29(36):24–32
8 [Hananiah son of Az]ur Jer 28(35)
9 [John son of of Sim]on

False Prophets,” 33. Originally Broshi and Yardeni opted for a paleographic date in the first
half of the first cent. BCE (“‫על נתנים ונביאי שקר‬,” 54). Klaus Beyer, Die aramäischen Texte
vom Toten Meer samt den Inschriften aus Palästina, dem Testament Levis aus der Kairoer
Genisa, der Fastenrolle und den alten talmudischen Zitaten: Aramaistische Einleitung, Text,
Übersetzung, Deutung, Grammatik, Wörterbuch, deutsch-aramäische Wortliste, Register
(Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2004), 2:128, narrows this paleographic date down
to around the turn of the eras.
42  See Lange, “ ‘The False Prophets Who Arose against Our God’ (4Q339 1),” 206–7.
43  Broshi and Yardeni, “339. 4QList of False Prophets ar,” 77–79.
44  This transcription of the last characters of line 1 was recommended by Émile Puech in an
oral communication. The visible character remnants clearly disagree with the reconstruc-
tion ]‫ ב[ישראל‬proposed by all existing editions.
45  The transcription ‫ ̊ש ̊מביתאל‬was suggested by Émile Puech in the same oral communica-
tion. All existing editions read ‫מביתאל‬. But the space between ‫ [ה]זקן‬and ‫ מביתאל‬re-
quires one more character. Remnants of a ‫ ש‬are still visible in an electronic enlargement
of the photograph PAM 43.248.
46  For this translation of the preposition ‫ב‬, see Aaron Shemesh, “A Note on 4Q339 ‘List of
False Prophets’,” RevQ 20 (2001–2002), 319–20, 320; cf. Ps 27:10 and Micah 7:6.
Texts within Texts 205

This table shows that the preserved text of 4Q339 includes four references to
Jeremiah 28–29. These four references attest to four textual and orthographic
differences between the extant texts of Jeremiah from the Second Temple pe-
riod and the List of False Prophets. Two of these differences concern the names
of Ahab, son of Koliah, and Zedekiah, son of Maaseiah.

‫[אחא]ב בן ק[ול]י̊ ̇ה‬

̇ 5
‫[ע]שיה‬
̇ ‫[צד]קיה בן ̊מ‬
̇ 6

5 [Aha]b son of K[ol]iah

6 [Zede]kiah son of Ma[a]seiah

‫ן־מ ֲע ֵׂש ָ֔יה‬ֽ ַ ‫ל־צ ְד ִק ָּי֣הּו ֶב‬

ִ ‫וליָ ֙ה וְ ֶא‬ָ ֽ‫ל־א ְח ָ ֤אב ֶּבן־ֹק‬ ַ ‫ֹלהי יִ ְׂש ָר ֵ֗אל ֶא‬ ֣ ֵ ‫הוה ְצ ָב ֹ֜אות ֱא‬ ֨ ָ ְ‫ה־א ַמר֩ י‬
ָ ֹ‫ּֽכ‬
‫יכם׃‬ ֽ ֶ ֵ‫ְך־ּב ֶ֔בל וְ ִה ָ ּ֖כם ְל ֵעינ‬
ָ ‫אּצ֣ר ֶ ֽמ ֶל‬
ַ ‫ּוכ ְד ֶר‬
ַ ‫ַ ֽהּנִ ְּב ִ ֥אים ָל ֶכ֛ם ִּב ְׁש ִ ֖מי ָ ׁ֑ש ֶקר ִהנְ ִנ֣י ׀ נ ֵ ֹ֣תן א ָֹ֗תם ְּביַ ֙ד נְ ֽב‬

Thus speaks the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, concerning Ahab, son of
Koliah, and Zedekiah, son of Maaseiah, who prophesy falsehood in my
name to you: “Behold, I will give them into the hand of Nebukadrezzar,
king of Babylon, and he will strike them in front of your eyes!”
(Jer-MT 29:21)

οὕτως εἶπεν κύριος ἐπὶ Αχιαβ καὶ ἐπὶ Σεδεκιαν Ἰδοὺ ἐγὼ δίδωμι αὐτοὺς εἰς
χεῖρας βασιλέως Βαβυλῶνος, καὶ πατάξει αὐτοὺς κατ᾿ ὀφθαλμοὺς ὑμῶν.

Thus speaks the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, concerning Achiab and
Sedekia “Behold, I will give them into the hands of the king of Babylon
and he will strike them in front of your eyes!” (Jer-LXX 36:21)

In lines 5 and 6 the preserved text of 4QList of False Prophets leaves no

doubt that it reads with Jer-MT the patronyms ‫ן־ֹק ָוליָ ה‬
ֽ ‫ ֶּב‬and ‫ן־מ ֲע ֵׂשיָ ה‬
ֽ ַ ‫ ֶב‬which
are missing in Jer-LXX 29(36):21. The two additional patronyms reflect a char-
acteristic feature of the MT text of Jeremiah which often adds patronyms for
reasons of specificity when the source text it shares with Jeremiah-LXX lacked
them.47

47  For the added patronyms in Jeremiah-MT, see J. Gerald Janzen, Studies in the Text of
Jeremiah, HSM 6 (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1973), 145–48.
206 Lange

Although the List of False Prophets twice reads with Jer-MT against Jer-LXX
in lines 5–6, it disagrees in lines 5–8 with both Jer-MT and Jer-LXX regarding
the sequence in which the false prophets of the book of Jeremiah are listed:

4Q339 5–6 Ahab son of Koliah and Zedekiah son of Jer 29(36):21–23
Maaseiah
4Q339 7 Shemaiah the Nehlemite Jer 29(36):24–32
4Q339 8 Hananiah son of Azur Jer 28(35)

Because the List of False Prophets reads elsewhere with Jer-MT and because
no other textual witness to the book of Jeremiah reads Jeremiah 29 before
Jeremiah 28, it is most likely that the reversed text sequence of the List of False
Prophets goes back to the compiler of that list. It seems possible, that the com-
piler of the List of False Prophets referred to a Jeremiah scroll whose last chap-
ter was at the outside of the scroll. When scrolling backwards the compiler
encountered first Jeremiah 29 and only afterwards Jeremiah 28.
An orthographic difference can be found in the name of “[Zede]kiah son
of Ma[a]seiah” (line 6). The compiler spells Zedekiah as ‫[צד]קיה‬ ̇ against the
spelling ‫ ִצ ְד ִק ָּי֣הּו‬in Jer-MT. LXX transliterates both forms of the name always
as Σεδεκιας.48 This orthographic difference does not imply a different spell-
ing in the anterior text of 4QList of False Prophets. The compiler adjusted the
theophoric element ‫יהו‬- most likely to the theophoric element ‫יה‬- because it is
used in every other name in 4QList of False Prophets lines 4–6.

Conclusions

Between eight and thirteen uses of the book of Jeremiah can still be identified
in the exegetical literature from Qumran. Of the eight certain uses, 23 words
of Jeremiah text survive in the fragmentary manuscripts from Qumran that
preserve them. In three cases, preserving a total of five words of Jeremiah-
text, Essene rhetoric developed out of language from the book of Jeremiah.
Of two further uncertain uses among the fragmentary exegetical texts from
Qumran four words of Jeremiah text are extant. At best, the exegetical texts

48  ‫ה‬
 ‫ ִצ ְד ִק ָ ֥יּ‬as Σεδεκιας can be found in Jer 27(34):12; 28(35):1; 29(36):3 and ‫ ִצ ְד ִק ָּי֣הּו‬as Σεδεκιας
can be found in Jer 1:3; 21:1, 7; 24:8; 27(34):3; 32(39):1, 3, 4, 5; 34(41):2, 4, 6, 8, 21; 36(43):12;
37(44):1, 3, 17; 39(46):1; 44(51):30; 51(28):59; 52:1, 5, 10, 11.
Texts within Texts 207

from Qumran preserve 32 words of Jeremiah text in their intertextual uses of

the book of Jeremiah.
Among the eight certain uses of Jeremiah in the exegetical literature from
Qumran four cases of textual difference between MT and LXX can be found.
In all four cases, the exegetical literature from Qumran reads with the longer
text of Jer-MT against the shorter text of Jer-LXX. The proto-Masoretic text
of Jeremiah was thus employed exclusively in the exegetical literature from
Qumran. Given the small amount of preserved evidence this observation does
not amount to much. It should be noted though that this exclusive employ-
ment of Jer-MT is not restricted to the Essene exegetical texts but agrees with
all other Essene texts from the Qumran library as well: all uses of the book of
Jeremiah in the Essene literature from Qumran read with the proto-Masoretic
text of Jeremiah.49 This observation is all the more interesting, because with
4QJerb, the Qumran library contained at least one Hebrew manuscript that is
close to the Hebrew Vorlage of Jer-LXX.50 Apparently, in the case of the book
of Jeremiah, the Essene movement employed exclusively a text affiliated with
the proto-Masoretic literary edition of Jeremiah. Before this observation can
be applied to the overall textual history of the Jewish scriptures similar stud-
ies for the textual affiliation of other biblical books in the Essene literature
from Qumran need to be undertaken. It seems entirely possible that the two
literary editions of Jeremiah were so different that in the case of Jeremiah the
difference between the two literary editions led to the preferred use of one
text. In cases where the differences between the various biblical texts are less
drastic such preferences did not emerge as easily. The employment of various
text types of the Jewish scriptures in the letters of Paul supports the latter in-
terpretation of my evidence.51

49  See Lange, “The Text of Jeremiah in the War Scroll from Qumran,” 95–116; Lange, “The
Textual History of the Book Jeremiah,” 251–84; Lange, “The Text of the Book of Jeremiah
according to Barkhi Nafshi and the Rule of Benedictions” (forthcoming). For the remain-
der of the Essene literature from Qumran, a preliminary survey confirms my observations
regarding the Hodayot, the War Scroll, Barki Nafshi, and the Essene exegetical literature.
50  See e.g., Emanuel Tov, “The Jeremiah Scrolls from Qumran,” RevQ 14 (1989): 189–206, 198;
Tov, “Jeremiah,” DJD 15:145–207, 172: Richard J. Saley, “Reconstructing 4QJerb according to
the Text of the Old Greek,” DSD 17 (2010): 1–12.
51  For the various text-types of the Jewish scriptures employed in the letters of Paul,
see Dietrich-Alex Koch, Die Schrift als Zeuge des Evangeliums: Untersuchungen zur
Verwendung und zum Verständnis der Schrift bei Paulus, BHT 69 (Tübingen: Mohr, 1986).
208 Lange

Appendix. A List of Variant Readings from the Uses of Jeremiah in

the Exegetical Literature from Qumran

Jer 33:15
4QCommGen A 5:3–4 ‫צמח דויד‬, cf. MT ‫ > ] ְל ָדִ ֖וד ֶצ ַ֣מח‬LXX

Jer 33:17
4QCommGen A 5:2 ‫כסא לדויד‬ ̊ ‫[לוא‬, MT ‫ל־ּכ ֵ ּ֥סא‬
̇ ‫י]כ ̊רת יושב‬ ִ ‫ > ] ֽל ֹא־יִ ָּכ ֵ ֣רת ְל ָד ִ ֔וד ִ֕איׁש י ֵ ֹׁ֖שב ַע‬LXX

Jer 29:21
4QList of False Prophets ar 5 ‫בן ק[ול]י̊ ̇ה‬, MT ‫ן־ֹק ָוליָ ֙ה‬
ֽ ‫ > ] ֶּב‬LXX

Jer 29:21
4QList of False Prophets ar 6 ‫[ע]שיה‬
̇ ‫בן ̊מ‬, MT ‫ן־מ ֲע ֵׂש ָ֔יה‬
ֽ ַ ‫ > ] ֶב‬LXX
Text, Intertext, and Conceptual Identity: The Case
of Ephraim and the Seekers of Smooth Things

Matthew A. Collins

Introduction

The labels, sobriquets, and typological language utilised within the sectarian
Qumran scrolls have, ever since their discovery, generated widespread specula-
tion and countless theories as to the precise nature of their significance and, of
course, the identities of their historical referents.* While debate has raged over
the identities of such figures as “the Teacher of Righteousness” (‫)מורה הצדק‬
and “the Wicked Priest” (‫)הכוהן הרשע‬, there has, in most quarters, been an un-
common degree of consensus (or at least, tacit acceptance) that (re)use of the
scriptural terms “Judah” (‫)יהודה‬, “Ephraim” (‫)אפרים‬, and “Manasseh” (‫)מנשה‬
in the pesharim should be understood as typological labels for the Commu-
nity and its opponents—according to most constellations, the Essenes, Phari-
sees, and Sadducees respectively.
“Ephraim” has received particular attention for its prominent use in the pe-
sharim as an epithet denoting apparent forces of opposition. The cipher is as-
sociated with a group labelled “the Seekers of Smooth Things” (‫)דורשי החלקות‬,

* It is a pleasure to contribute this essay to a Festschrift in honour of George J. Brooke, whose

immeasurable contribution to scholarship goes far beyond simply the (extensive) number
of his publications but is reflected in his collegiality, collaborative spirit, and the unending
support, mentorship, and guidance he offers those around him.
This essay had its origins in a rather distinctive commission from George himself, who in
July 2013 organised a small three-day symposium in Manchester (the Manchester, Newton
Fellowship, and Nordic Network Symposium) on the topic of “References to the Patriarchs
in the Dead Sea Scrolls.” However, given the appearance of Rewriting and Interpreting the
Hebrew Bible: The Biblical Patriarchs in the Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls, ed. Devorah Dimant
and Reinhard G. Kratz, BZAW 439 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2013) addressing explicit references to
the patriarchs in the scrolls, George was keen that the focus of this symposium be implicit
allusions to the patriarchs (in other words, the places where they are not mentioned but are
implied). Since by their very nature you cannot easily search for implicit references (short
of reading through the entire scrolls corpus, hoping to spot something!), those of us who
were there found it a somewhat challenging (albeit intriguing) commission. It did, however,
produce some interesting results, and the following essay is accordingly a tribute to George’s
scholarly instinct.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ���7 | doi ��.��63/9789004344532_013

210 Collins

who, at least in the ideological world of the texts, constitute prominent an-
tagonists to the Yaḥad. Indeed, 4Q169 3–4 ii 1–2 seems to use the two labels
synonymously, explicitly identifying the two. The term also appears to be asso-
ciated more generally with the community of “the Man of the Lie” (‫)איש הכזב‬.
However, that “Ephraim” appears in a number of the pesher elements of these
texts without occurring in the scriptural lemmata being interpreted suggests
that these terminological or conceptual associations must have their origins
somewhere beyond the immediate context in which they appear. If not sug-
gested by the lemma, can an alternative sectarian provenance be found for the
conceptual identification of these (literary/historical) entities with “Ephraim”?
This essay will first highlight some ambiguities in the use of “Judah” and
“Ephraim” (and to a lesser extent, “Manasseh”) in the sectarian texts, which
together problematize a straightforward reading of these typological labels
in relation to distinct (let alone historical) groups. It will then turn to focus
on “Ephraim” and its seemingly unprompted employment as an identifying
label for “the Seekers of Smooth Things.” Proposing an alternative sectarian
provenance for this conceptual identification, it will suggest that the explicit
association of “Ephraim” with “the Seekers of Smooth Things” (and indeed the
community of the Liar) in the pesharim both derives from and builds upon
implicit scriptural allusions present in the Damascus Document.

Judah and Ephraim (and Manasseh) in Scripture and the Scrolls

In Gen 41:50–52, Ephraim and Manasseh are born to Joseph and Aseneth (cf.
Gen 46:20; Jub. 44:24; Jos. Asen. 21:9), but are subsequently “adopted” by their
grandfather, Jacob, who claims them as his own:

Therefore your two sons, who were born to you in the land of Egypt be-
fore I came to you in Egypt, are now mine; Ephraim and Manasseh shall
be mine, just as Reuben and Simeon are. (Gen 48:5)1

They are accordingly elevated to the status of Joseph’s brothers, the other tribal
patriarchs (including their uncle, Judah), and in Gen 48:9–20 receive Jacob’s

1  All English translations of biblical passages follow the NRSV, albeit with occasional minor
alterations for reasons of terminological consistency. English translations of DSS passages
are essentially my own, though often indebted to and/or closely following the DSSSE, DJD
editions, etc., again with alterations for terminological consistency or clarity.
Text, Intertext, and Conceptual Identity 211

blessing.2 Despite being the younger of the two (and despite Joseph’s protests),
Ephraim receives the firstborn blessing (48:17–19), a reversal that echoes that
of Jacob and Esau (25:21–23; 27:27–40).3 Thus Jacob “put Ephraim ahead of
Manasseh” (48:20).4
When the land is divided into twelve in Josh 13–19, the tribes of Ephraim
and Manasseh each receive a portion in the north (Josh 16–17; cf. 14:4). After
the death of Solomon and the division of the kingdom, it is an Ephraimite,
Jeroboam, who becomes the first king of the Northern Kingdom of Israel
(1 Kgs 11:26; 12:20). Under the Divided Monarchy, the name “Ephraim” eventually
becomes synonymous with “Israel,” as defined over and against the Southern
Kingdom of Judah (e.g., Isa 7:1–17; Ezek 37:15–22; Hos 11:1–12).5 Thus the di-
vision of the kingdom is retrospectively presented as “the day that Ephraim
departed from Judah” (Isa 7:17; cf. Jer 31:18–20; Sir 47:20–21). As a result, the
dichotomy Judah/Israel (e.g., Jer 31:27, 31; Zech 8:13) is often found instead in
the form Judah/Ephraim (e.g., Isa 11:13; Hos 5:12–14; Ps 78:67–68).
This ideological pairing of “Judah” and “Ephraim” in the context of the two
kingdoms is similarly found in the Qumran sectarian scrolls, for instance in CD
7:11–14 (which cites and interprets Isa 7:17),6 and in such texts as 4QTestimonia
(4Q175 27), 4QApocryphon of Joshuab (4Q379 22 ii 13), and 4QNon-Canonical
Psalms B (4Q381 24 5). However, the designations are also employed in such
constructions as: “the house of Judah” (‫)בית יהודה‬,7 “the princes of Judah” (‫שרי‬
‫)יהודה‬,8 “the simple of Judah” (‫)פתאי יהודה‬,9 “the cities of Judah” (‫)ערי יהודה‬,10
“the land of Judah” (‫)ארץ יהודה‬,11 “the wicked of Ephraim” ([‫)רשעי א]פרים‬,12 “the

2  See also 4Q1 12–14; 4Q6 1; 4Q364 12 1–3. Also T. Jac. 4:7–16.
3  Cf. Isaac and Ishmael (Gen 17:19–21).
4  On the background of this aetiology, see Edwin C. Kingsbury, “He Set Ephraim Before
Manasseh,” HUCA 38 (1967): 129–36.
5  For some of the possible reasons for this, see Jason Radine, “Ephraim: I. Hebrew Bible/
Old Testament,” EBR 7:1027–29. On “Ephraim” in the biblical texts, see Heinz-Dieter Neef,
Ephraim: Studien zur Geschichte des Stammes Ephraim von der Landnahme bis zur frühen
Königszeit, BZAW 238 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1995).
6  Also CD 13:23–14:1 (paralleled in 4Q266 9 iii 17–18; 4Q267 9 v 2–4; 4Q269 10 ii 6–7).
7  CD 4:11; 1QpHab 8:1; 4Q171 2:14; 4Q174 4 4. See also, 4Q167 2 2–3 (cf. Hos 5:14); 4Q177 2:14
(cf. Ezek 25:8).
8  CD 8:3. See also, CD 19:15 (cf. Hos 5:10).
9  1QpHab 12:4.
10  1QpHab 12:9. See also, 4Q167 15+16+33 ii 1–2 (cf. Hos 8:14).
11  C D 4:3; 6:5; 1Q15 5.
12  4Q169 3–4 iv 5. See also, 4Q171 1:24 (‫)רשעה ביד אפ]רי[ם‬.
212 Collins

simple of Ephraim” (‫)פתאי אפרים‬,13 “the city of Ephraim” (‫)עיר אפרים‬,14 and “the
misleaders of Ephraim” (‫)מתעי אפרים‬.15 We also find “the wicked of Ephraim
and Manasseh” (‫)רשעי אפרים ומנשה‬.16 Leaving aside for the moment the ques-
tion of what deeper meaning or significance these may have within the sectar-
ian context (e.g., their potential use as typological labels for specific groups
or individuals), there is, at times, a degree of ambiguity about the intended
(and/or unintended) scriptural association of these terms. Are the entities so
labelled being associated with the patriarchs themselves? Or with the tribes
named after them? Or with geographical territories? Or perhaps even with
other individuals of the same name (e.g., King Manasseh)?17 Or, potentially,
with all of the above?

13  4Q169 3–4 iii 5. Also reconstructed at 4Q169 3–4 i 6 in Florentino García Martínez and
Eibert J.C. Tigchelaar, DSSSE. See further, Shani L. Berrin, The Pesher Nahum Scroll from
Qumran: An Exegetical Study of 4Q169, STDJ 53 (Leiden: Brill, 2004), 199–201.
14  4Q169 3–4 ii 2. See Berrin, The Pesher Nahum Scroll, 196–98.
15  4Q169 3–4 ii 8. The meaning of the term is ambiguous. Berrin (The Pesher Nahum Scroll,
198–99) suggests that, rather than an objective genitive (“those who lead Ephraim astray”),
a partitive genitive understanding (“those of Ephraim who lead [others] astray”) is to be
preferred. However, comparison with 4Q169 3–4 iii 4–5 (‫ידודו פתאי אפרים מתוך קהלם‬
‫ )ועזבו את מתעיהם‬would appear to suggest that Ephraim itself is led astray. Hartmut
Stegemann (Die Entstehung der Qumrangemeinde [Bonn: Rheinische Friedrich-Wilhelms-
Universität, 1971], 70–72) notes the same parallel but concludes that the term ‫מתעי אפרים‬
is more likely to denote “Mitglieder der Gruppe ‘Ephraim’ ” (72) who have led astray the
‫פתאי אפרים‬, “einen Teil aus der Gesamtgruppe ‘Ephraim’ ” (72).
16  4Q171 2:18. See Håkan Bengtsson, What’s in a Name? A Study of Sobriquets in the Pesharim
(Uppsala: Uppsala University, 2000), 148–49.
17  Gregory L. Doudna (4Q Pesher Nahum: A Critical Edition, JSPSup 35/CIS 8 [London:
Sheffield Academic, 2001], 587–89) suggests that the occurrences of “Manasseh” in 4Q169
reflect “the personal name of the famous king Manasseh of old (2 Kgs 21; 2 Chron. 33) ap-
plied as a sobriquet to a contemporary figure of the text” (587–88), though proposes that
“[i]n contrast to Manasseh of 4QpNah who is a personal figure, Ephraim of 4QpNah is a
land, region, or society and the people therein” (589). Cf. Bengtsson, What’s in a Name, 157.
In this context, also note attempts to draw upon the prominent “Judah” imagery in the
sectarian scrolls to support an identification of “the Teacher of Righteousness” with Judah
the Essene known from Josephus (Ant. 13.311–313; J.W. 1.78–80). See William H. Brownlee,
“The Historical Allusions of the Dead Sea Habakkuk Midrash,” BASOR 126 (1952): 10–20,
esp. 18–19; Brownlee, The Midrash Pesher of Habakkuk, SBLMS 24 (Missoula: Scholars
Press, 1979), 203–4; Jean Carmignac, “Qui était le Docteur de Justice?” RevQ 10 (1980): 235–
46; cf. Jerome Murphy-O’Connor, “Judah the Essene and the Teacher of Righteousness,”
RevQ 10 (1981): 579–86.
Text, Intertext, and Conceptual Identity 213

On this issue of what exactly is being alluded to, Ida Fröhlich suggests that
multiple meanings can be held simultaneously. Thus, for instance, “when re-
ferring to [Judah] as a typological name, it can mean not only Jacob’s . . . son
(as in Genesis), but also the Southern Kingdom.”18 Similarly, with regard to “the
house of Peleg who joined with Manasseh” (4Q169 3–4 iv 1), Richard T. White
proposes that:

If in this instance we take Manasseh not simply as the brother of Ephraim,

for it is obvious that in other passages that is one of the intended associa-
tions of the name, but rather as the king Manasseh whose sins brought
on the destruction of the first Temple we can relate it to the idea of the
House of Peleg as Temple polluters in [the Damascus Document].19

Whether intentional or unintentional, the ambiguity of these labels allows for

a plurality of possible allusions to different scriptural uses of these terms, and
thus enables multiple layers of meaning and interpretation. Authorial inten-
tion aside, the terms “Judah,” “Ephraim,” and “Manasseh” conjure up a diverse
range of biblical imagery and connotations, and can therefore feasibly be
taken to allude to any (or indeed, all) of these by different interpreters. The pre-
dominant association of this terminology in the sectarian literature, however,

18  Ida Fröhlich, “Qumran Names,” in The Provo International Conference on the Dead Sea
Scrolls: Technological Innovations, New Texts, and Reformulated Issues, ed. Donald W. Parry
and Eugene Ulrich, STDJ 30 (Leiden: Brill, 1999), 294–305, 300. George J. Brooke likewise
notes that Judah is “a term of polyvalent significance” (“The Pesharim and the Origins of
the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in Methods of Investigation of the Dead Sea Scrolls and the Khirbet
Qumran Site: Present Realities and Future Prospects, ed. Michael O. Wise et al. [New York:
The New York Academy of Sciences, 1994], 339–53, 346). See also, George J. Brooke,
“Jacob and His House in the Scrolls from Qumran,” in Dimant and Kratz, Rewriting and
Interpreting, 171–88. On the multiple levels of meaning of “Judah” and “Israel,” see John
S. Bergsma, “Qumran Self-Identity: ‘Israel’ or ‘Judah’?” DSD 15 (2008): 172–89, esp. 173–74;
Philip R. Davies, “ ‘Old’ and ‘New’ Israel in the Bible and the Qumran Scrolls: Identity
and Difference,” in Defining Identities: We, You, and the Other in the Dead Sea Scrolls—
Proceedings of the Fifth Meeting of the IOQS in Groningen, ed. Florentino García Martínez
and Mladen Popović, STDJ 70 (Leiden: Brill, 2008), 33–42.
19  Richard T. White, “The House of Peleg in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in A Tribute to Geza Vermes:
Essays on Jewish and Christian Literature and History, ed. Philip R. Davies and Richard T.
White, JSOTSup 100 (Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1990), 67–98, 80–81. Cf. CD 20:22–24. As already
noted, Doudna (4Q Pesher Nahum, 587–89) suggests that all references to “Manasseh” in
4Q169 should be understood as allusions to King Manasseh (2 Kgs 21; 2 Chr 33), though
this seems to pay insufficient attention to the relationship with “Ephraim” in the text. See
further, Bengtsson, What’s in a Name, 153–64.
214 Collins

appears to be with the ideological significance of these labels as established in

the scriptural prophetic literature, and especially the conceptual dichotomy
Judah/Ephraim.
As already noted, within the context of the sectarian texts themselves the
terms “Judah” (‫)יהודה‬, “Ephraim” (‫)אפרים‬, and “Manasseh” (‫ )מנשה‬have tradi-
tionally been understood as typological labels or “codewords” for the Yaḥad
and its opponents.

In the sectarian documents, Ephraim no longer refers to genealogical

non-Judahites and to the geographical area inhabited by them. Instead,
the term appears in the pesharim and related writings as an epithet for
spiritual opponents of the true Jews.20

Since the early 1960s, the apparent tripartite use of these terms in 4QPesher on
Nahum (4Q169) in particular has been read in the light of Josephus’ own tri-
partite description of Jewish sects (Ant. 13.171; 18.11; J.W. 2.119; Life 10). According
to this understanding, “Judah,” “Ephraim,” and “Manasseh” are ciphers for the
Essenes, Pharisees, and Sadducees respectively.21 This reading of the pesharim
has obtained an uncommon (though not unanimous) degree of consensus,
with Stephen Goranson going so far as to describe it as “one of the most assured
results of Qumran historical research.”22 The antagonism between Ephraim

20  Berrin, The Pesher Nahum Scroll, 110. Berrin further notes that “use of the term ‘Ephraim’
to deny the religious legitimacy of an opposing group is often depicted as a complete
novum at Qumran, but its development is likely to have been influenced by earlier anti-
Samaritan usage” (112).
21  First proposed by Yigael Yadin in 1961 (in correspondence with David Flusser) and
swiftly followed by Joseph D. Amusin (/Amoussine) (“Éphraïm et Manassé dans le
Péshèr de Nahum [4 Q p Nahum],” RevQ 4 [1963]: 389–96) and André Dupont-Sommer
(“Observations sur le Commentaire de Nahum découvert près de la Mer Morte,” Journal
des Savants 4 [1963]: 201–27). For an overview of the origins and early development of the
theory, see: Bengtsson, What’s in a Name, 136, 153–55; Doudna, 4Q Pesher Nahum, 577–78;
David Flusser, Judaism of the Second Temple Period: Volume 1: Qumran and Apocalypticism,
trans. Azzan Yadin (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans; Jerusalem: The Hebrew University Magnes,
2007), 224–25. Also Joseph D. Amusin, “The Reflection of Historical Events of the First
Century B.C. in Qumran Commentaries (4Q 161; 4Q 169; 4Q166),” HUCA 48 (1977): 123–52,
esp. 142–46; Berrin, The Pesher Nahum Scroll, 110–11, 115–18.
22  Stephen Goranson, “Others and Intra-Jewish Polemic as Reflected in Qumran Texts,” in
The Dead Sea Scrolls After Fifty Years: A Comprehensive Assessment, ed. Peter W. Flint and
James C. VanderKam (Leiden: Brill, 1999), 2:534–51, 543–44. So too Maurya P. Horgan,
who on this issue by 1979 noted “almost complete agreement among the modern au-
thors” (Pesharim: Qumran Interpretations of Biblical Books, CBQMS 8 [Washington, DC:
Text, Intertext, and Conceptual Identity 215

and Manasseh in Isa 9:20, and their mutual opposition to Judah (“Manasseh
devoured Ephraim, and Ephraim Manasseh, and together they were against
Judah”), is thus seen as a scriptural typology utilised by the pesharim for the
relationship between the Community (the Essenes) and its opponents (the
Pharisees and Sadducees).23
However, while it is not our intention here to perform a detailed examina-
tion of the legitimacy of these claims, it is important to highlight some am-
biguities in the use of these patriarchal/tribal labels which may undermine a
straightforward or overly simplistic understanding of their employment and
function within the sectarian texts. References to “the Doers of the Law in the
house of Judah” (‫ )עושי התורה בבית יהודה‬and their loyalty to “the Teacher of
Righteousness” (1QpHab 8:1–3),24 the identification of “the simple of Judah”

The Catholic Biblical Association of America, 1979], 161). Similarly, e.g., William H.
Brownlee, “The Wicked Priest, the Man of Lies, and the Righteous Teacher—The Problem
of Identity,” JQR 73 (1982): 1–37, esp. 6, 26; Hanan Eshel, “Ephraim and Manasseh,” EDSS
1:253–54; Eshel, The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Hasmonean State (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans,
2008), 2–3, 39–40; Flusser, Judaism of the Second Temple Period, 214–57; Fröhlich, “Qumran
Names,” 301–4; Lawrence H. Schiffman, “Pharisees and Sadducees in Pesher Naḥum,” in
Minḥah le-Naḥum: Biblical and Other Studies Presented to Nahum M. Sarna in Honour of
his 70th Birthday, ed. Marc Brettler and Michael Fishbane, JSOTSup 154 (Sheffield: JSOT
Press, 1993), 272–90; Schiffman, “The Pharisees and their Legal Traditions According to
the Dead Sea Scrolls,” DSD 8 (2001): 262–77, esp. 265–67; Hartmut Stegemann, The Library
of Qumran: On the Essenes, Qumran, John the Baptist, and Jesus (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans;
Leiden: Brill, 1998), 120, 130; Geza Vermes, The Dead Sea Scrolls: Qumran in Perspective
(London: Collins, 1977), 152. More critical, however, are, e.g., Bergsma, “Qumran Self-
Identity,” 184–86; James H. Charlesworth, The Pesharim and Qumran History: Chaos
or Consensus? (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2002), 108–9; Marie-France Dion, “L’identité
d’Éphraïm et Manassé dans le Pésher de Nahum (4Q169),” in Celebrating the Dead Sea
Scrolls: A Canadian Collection, ed. Peter W. Flint, Jean Duhaime, and Kyung S. Baek, SBLEJL
30 (Atlanta: SBL Press, 2011), 405–27; Doudna, 4Q Pesher Nahum, 577–99; Lester L. Grabbe,
“The Current State of the Dead Sea Scrolls: Are There More Answers than Questions?”
in The Scrolls and the Scriptures: Qumran Fifty Years After, ed. Stanley E. Porter and Craig
A. Evans, JSPSup 26 (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 1997), 54–67, esp. 58–60; Anthony J.
Saldarini, Pharisees, Scribes and Sadducees in Palestinian Society: A Sociological Approach
(Wilmington, DE: Michael Glazier, 1988), 279–80.
23  Fröhlich, “Qumran Names,” 303. In this sense, “the biblical story of the defection of the
Northern Kingdom is actualised and becomes a part of the depiction of the conflict affect-
ing the Qumran community” (Bengtsson, What’s in a Name, 151). Cf. Bergsma, “Qumran
Self-Identity.” Isa 9:20 is actually cited in 4QPesher on Isaiahc (4Q163 4–6 i 18–19), though
the corresponding pesher element is unfortunately not preserved.
24  Cf. CD 4:11; 4Q174 4 4. Also, Daniel R. Schwartz, “ ‘To Join Oneself to the House of Judah’
(Damascus Document IV, 11),” RevQ 10 (1981): 435–46.
216 Collins

(‫ )פתאי יהודה‬as “the Doers of the Law” (1QpHab 12:4–5), and the apparent
pesher interpretation of “the high places of Judah” (‫ ;במות יהודה‬Mic 1:5) in rela-
tion to “the Teacher of Righteousness” and “the council of the Community”
(‫ ;עצת היחד‬1Q14 8–10 5–9) have all been taken to support the use of “Judah”
as a self-designation by the Yaḥad.25 But “Judah” is not consistently or unam-
biguously portrayed in a positive light. In 4QPesher on Psalmsa (4Q171) we find
“the ruthless ones of the covenant who are in the house of Judah, who plot to
destroy the Doers of the Law who are in the council of the Community” (‫עריצי‬
‫ ;הברית אשר בבית יהודה אשר יזומו לכלות את עושי התורה אשר בעצת היחד‬2:14–15).
Indeed, these “ruthless ones of the covenant” (‫ )עריצי הברית‬are, in the course
of 4Q171, explicitly or implicitly associated with “the house of Judah” (2:14–15),
“the wicked of Ephraim and Manasseh” (2:18–20; cf. 2:14–16), and “the wicked
of Israel” (3:12–13), making difficult a clear distinction between these groups.26
Some have even restored “the wicked of Judah” (‫ )רשע]י יהוד[ה‬at 4Q169 3–4
iv 1,27 while the Damascus Document talks about the eschatological punish-
ment of “the princes of Judah” (‫ ;שרי יהודה‬CD 8:1–6 and 19:13–18), drawing upon
Hos 5:10.28
Similarly, while phrases such as “the wicked of Ephraim” ([‫;רשעי א]פרים‬
4Q169 3–4 iv 5; cf. 4Q171 1:24; 2:18), and the use of “Ephraim” in close associ-
ation with both “the Seekers of Smooth Things” (in 4Q169) and “the Man of
the Lie” (in 4Q171), support an understanding of this term as a label for the
Community’s opponents, we also find potentially more sympathetic uses. Just

25  See, e.g., Brooke, “The Pesharim and the Origins,” 346–47; Jerome Murphy-O’Connor, “An
Essene Missionary Document? CD II, 14–VI, 1,” RB 77 (1970): 201–29, esp. 217.
26  Note also, 4Q171 4:1–2. See further, Bergsma, “Qumran Self-Identity,” 185–86.
27  So, for example: García Martínez and Tigchelaar, DSSSE; Jerome Murphy-O’Connor, “The
Essenes and Their History,” RB 81 (1974): 215–44, esp. 240; Stegemann, Die Entstehung,
89–95 (also n. 264); Geza Vermes, The Complete Dead Sea Scrolls in English, rev. ed.
(London: Penguin, 2011). Horgan (Pesharim, 165, 189–90) suggests that the lacuna is
not sufficiently long enough for this reconstruction and restores instead “the wicked of
Manasseh” (‫)רשע]י מנש[ה‬. Cf. André Dupont-Sommer’s “chiefs of Judah” (‫)רשי] יהוד[ה‬
(“Observations,” 216–17), rejected by Hartmut Stegemann (Die Entstehung, A70 n. 264) and
John Strugnell (“Notes en Marge du Volume V des ‘Discoveries in the Judaean Desert of
Jordan,’ ” RevQ 7 [1970]: 163–276, 208). See further Berrin, The Pesher Nahum Scroll, 69;
Doudna, 4Q Pesher Nahum, 212–13, 536–42; Stegemann, Die Entstehung, A70 n. 264.
28  Albert L.A. Hogeterp, “Eschatological Identities in the Damascus Document,” in García
Martínez and Popović, Defining Identities, 111–30, esp. 125–26; Stephen Hultgren, “A New
Literary Analysis of CD XIX–XX, Part I: CD XIX:1–32a (with CD VII:4b-VIII:18b)—The
Midrashim and the ‘Princes of Judah’,” RevQ 21 (2004): 549–78. Also note a potential pe-
jorative reading of “the house of Judah” in CD 4:10–11; see Doudna, 4Q Pesher Nahum,
583–86; cf. Murphy-O’Connor, “An Essene Missionary Document,” 217.
Text, Intertext, and Conceptual Identity 217

as we have “the simple of Judah” (‫ ;פתאי יהודה‬1QpHab 12:4), we also encounter

“the simple of Ephraim” who have been misled (‫ ;פתאי אפרים‬4Q169 3–4 iii 5)
and who seem distinct from “the wicked of Ephraim” or “the Seekers of Smooth
Things.”29 As Gregory L. Doudna notes, “Ephraim in 4QpNah is not regarded
as inherently wicked.”30 Instead it appears to be a broader category to which
a number of groups belong, including both the wicked who mislead and the
simple who are misled.31 “Judah” is similarly ambiguous, with both good and
wicked elements. As John S. Bergsma puts it:

[T]he category “Judah” is a mixed bag. “Judah” includes some who are
sympathetic to the Teacher of Righteousness, and some who want to de-
stroy the Yaḥad.32

This renders problematic any overly simplistic approach to the association of

these terms with specific groups.33 Indeed, Doudna goes so far as to reject all
efforts to associate these labels with contemporary groups or sects, suggesting
that: “[t]here is no reason to suppose that either Ephraim or Judah are oper-
ating as sobriquets in 4QpNah, any more than in any other Qumran or bibli-
cal text.”34 This seems to overstate the case. The terms “Judah” and “Ephraim”
(and indeed, “Manasseh”) do appear to be employed within the sectarian texts

29  See especially 4Q169 3–4 iii 3–5, which appears to juxtapose ‫ דורשי החלקות‬and the ‫פתאי‬
‫אפרים‬. Cf. n. 13 above for a possible reconstruction of ‫ פתאי אפרים‬at 4Q169 3–4 i 6. Note
also “the misleaders of Ephraim” (‫ )מתעי אפרים‬at 4Q169 3–4 ii 8 (see n. 15 above).
30  Doudna, 4Q Pesher Nahum, 598.
31  So too Håkan Bengtsson, who observes that “when we turn to the concept of ‘Ephraim’,
the image we perceive is not a specific coherent group” (What’s in a Name, 114; also 139–
40, 151). See further, Berrin, The Pesher Nahum Scroll, 115–18; Stegemann, Die Entstehung,
70–72. Indeed, as Bengtsson highlights: “The most notable notion in Hosea is the one
connected with the deceit and idolatry of Ephraim. But the fact that Ephraim once
belonged to the full community of the Israelite people, still retains a certain amount of
hope concerning the conversion and return of Ephraim. It would be likely that both these
features are contained in the typological use of “Ephraim” also in the pesharim” (What’s
in a Name, 141).
32  Bergsma, “Qumran Self-Identity,” 186. Also Hogeterp, “Eschatological Identities,” 125–26.
33  Moreover, the predominantly stereotypical (and anonymous) nature of these labels lends
itself to reapplication and/or a range of possible interpretation, allowing not only indi-
vidual authors but subsequently individual readers to “identify” different entities behind
these epithets. The conceptual stability of these labels cannot, therefore, be taken for
granted. See Matthew A. Collins, The Use of Sobriquets in the Qumran Dead Sea Scrolls,
LSTS 67 (London: T&T Clark, 2009), 209.
34  Doudna, 4Q Pesher Nahum, 598 (also 586–87).
218 Collins

in a manner which serves to associate the entities so labelled with a host of

scriptural connotations, and thus some use of these labels in relation to the
construction of conceptual or typological identities remains likely.35 We can
even say that, generally speaking, “Judah” tends to be cast in a rather more posi-
tive light than “Ephraim,” and that, despite some rather more ambiguous use
of the terminology, the Community is (at times at least) specifically associated
with “Judah” though seemingly never with “Ephraim,” while “Ephraim” is (at
times) specifically associated with the Community’s opponents though seem-
ingly never with the Community itself. That said, a direct correspondence be-
tween “Judah” and the Community, or “Ephraim” and the opponents, seems
problematic. While we can make generalisations, we have to accept a degree of
ambiguity and an apparent lack of consistency in the usage of these labels—in
the world of the sectarian texts, “Judah” is not always good, and “Ephraim” is
not always wicked.

Ephraim, the Seekers of Smooth Things, and the Liar

One of the most common associations of “Ephraim” in scholarly literature

on the scrolls is with a group labelled “the Seekers of Smooth Things” (‫דורשי‬
‫)החלקות‬.36 Both terms appear frequently in 4Q169, with one passage in particu-
lar setting them directly alongside each other:

‫ הוי עיר הדמים כולה [כחש פר]ק מלאה‬1

‫ פשרו היא עיר אפרים דורשי החלקות לאחרית הימים אשר בכחש ושקר[ים‬2
‫י]תהלכו‬

“Woe the city of bloodshed, all of it [deceit,] full of [plund]er.” 2Its interpre-
tation, it is the city of Ephraim, the Seekers of Smooth Things at the end
of days who walk in deceit and falsehood[s]. (4Q169 3–4 ii 1–2)

35  See further: Collins, The Use of Sobriquets, 182–207; Maxine L. Grossman, Reading for
History in the Damascus Document: A Methodological Study, STDJ 45 (Leiden: Brill, 2002),
162–209; Jutta Jokiranta, Social Identity and Sectarianism in the Qumran Movement, STDJ
105 (Leiden: Brill, 2013), 111–213.
36  Variant forms of this label include ‫( דורשי החלקות‬4Q163 23 ii 10; 4Q169 3–4 i 2; i 7; ii 2; ii
4; iii 3; iii 6–7; 4Q177 9:12) and ‫( דורשי חלקות‬1QHa 10:17; 10:34). Also ‫( דרשו בחלקות‬CD 1:18;
4Q266 2 i 21). Note too ‫( חלקות‬1QHa 12:11; cf. 4Q184 1 17; 4Q185 1–2 ii 14) and ‫( החליקו‬1QHa
12:8). See Bengtsson, What’s in a Name, 110–35; Berrin, The Pesher Nahum Scroll, 91–99;
Collins, The Use of Sobriquets, 24, 186–91.
Text, Intertext, and Conceptual Identity 219

The apparent apposition of the two labels (along with shared connotations
elsewhere in the text of leading astray, misdirection, and lies)37 has led in
most quarters to an assumed identification of the two.38 However, other pas-
sages from 4Q169 suggest that Ephraim was itself “led astray” by “the Seekers of
Smooth Things,” and that “the simple of Ephraim” will ultimately desert them
and join with Israel (3–4 iii 3–5; cf. 3–4 ii 8; 3–4 iii 6–8). Once again, the use of
“Ephraim” is inconsistent and/or ambiguous, and so it is unclear whether it is
truly synonymous with “the Seekers of Smooth Things” or only associated with
the sobriquet in some indistinct way.39
Similarly, “Ephraim” has been linked with the community of “the Man of
the Lie” (‫)איש הכזב‬. In the fragmentary first column of 4Q171, “wickedness
at the hands of E[phra]im” (‫ ;רשעה ביד אפ]רי[ם‬4Q171 1:24) appears in the
context of a passage concerning “the Man of the Lie who led many astray”
(‫ ;איש הכזב אשר התעה רבים‬4Q171 1:26), language immediately reminiscent of
4Q169 where “Ephraim” and/or “the Seekers of Smooth Things” are likewise
associated in some way with wickedness and having “led many astray” (e.g.,
‫ יתעו רבים‬. . . ‫ ;אשר‬4Q169 3–4 ii 8).40 Indeed, the same language is also used of
“the Spouter of the Lie” (‫ )מטיף הכזב‬in 1QPesher Habakkuk (‫;אשר התעה רבים‬
1QpHab 10:9).41 Interestingly, the immediate context of this passage concerning

37  E.g., 4Q169 3–4 ii 1–2; ii 8; iii 4–5; iii 6–8. There is also a shared association with “the Lion
of Wrath” (‫ ;כפיר החרון‬4Q169 3–4 i 1–8; i 10–12; note too 4Q167 2 2–4 [cf. Hos 5:14]).
38  Indeed, often a three-way identification of “the Seekers of Smooth Things,” “Ephraim,” and
the Pharisees. See especially, James C. VanderKam, “Those Who Look for Smooth Things,
Pharisees, and Oral Law,” in Emanuel: Studies in Hebrew Bible, Septuagint, and Dead Sea
Scrolls in Honor of Emanuel Tov, ed. Shalom M. Paul et al., VTSup 94 (Leiden: Brill, 2003),
465–77. Also, e.g., Albert I. Baumgarten, “Seekers after Smooth Things,” EDSS 2:857–59;
Brownlee, “The Wicked Priest,” 26, 28–29; Phillip R. Callaway, The History of the Qumran
Community: An Investigation, JSPSup 3 (Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1988), 158, 166–67; Eshel,
“Ephraim and Manasseh,” 253–54; Horgan, Pesharim, 161; Gordon L. Watley, “Ephraim: II.
Judaism, A. Second Temple and Hellenistic Judaism,” EBR 7:1029–30.
39  Doudna suggests, “[t]he Seekers-after-Smooth-Things are in relationship with Ephraim in
the world of 4QpNah, but the two terms are not equivalent or interchangeable” (4Q Pesher
Nahum, 590). Similarly Bengtsson: “The two designations seem to be interrelated, but are
not exactly synonymous” (What’s in a Name, 137; also 110–14, 128, 132, 136–40, 145–46, 151).
On a more flexible (and/or inconsistent) employment of these two labels, see further
Berrin, The Pesher Nahum Scroll, 115–18 (cf. 196–201); Grabbe, “The Current State,” 60.
40  See also 4Q169 3–4 iii 4–5; iii 6–8.
41  Cf. CD 1:14–15 (‫)איש הלצון אשר הטיף לישראל מימי כזב ויתעם בתוהו לא דרך‬. The labels
“the Man of the Lie” (‫)איש הכזב‬, “the Spouter of the Lie” (‫)מטיף הכזב‬, and “the Man of
Scoffing” (‫)איש הלצון‬, appear at times to be interchangeable and on other occasions to be
distinct. On the complex and/or fluid relationship between them, see Collins, The Use of
Sobriquets, esp. 76–79, 146–52, 170–73, 185.
220 Collins

“the Spouter” (1QpHab 10:5–10) further associates him with the one who “builds
a city by bloodshed” in Hab 2:12 (‫ )בנה עיר בדמים‬and with “falsehood” (‫)שקר‬, de-
scriptive elements associated with Ephraim in 4Q169 3–4 ii 1–2.42 Thus, as with
“the Seekers,” while the precise nature of the relationship between Ephraim
and the community of the Liar is unclear, it is nevertheless apparent that there
is an association of some form.43
Even more intriguing, however, is the fact that, although it features in the
pesher (interpretative) elements of both 4Q169 and 4Q171, Ephraim does not
appear in (and is therefore not suggested by) the scriptural lemmata.44 What
then is the provenance here of “Ephraim” in relation to “the Seekers of Smooth
Things” and the community of “the Man of the Lie”? More specifically, if not
suggested by the lemmata themselves, can an alternative sectarian provenance
be found for the conceptual identification of these (literary/historical) entities
with “Ephraim”?
It has been suggested that language and interpretation in the pesharim
sometimes appears to be dependent upon other sectarian texts, such as the
Damascus Document and the Hodayot.45 Antecedent forms of a number of
the Qumran sobriquets can also be found in these earlier texts.46 These so-
briquets constitute specific elements of (originally) contextualised scriptural

42  Cf. ‫ שקר‬in 4Q171 1:26–27 (‫)איש הכזב אשר התעה רבים באמרי שקר‬. Also 4Q169 3–4 ii 8
(again along with ‫ כזב‬and ‫ )תעה‬in the context of “Ephraim.” On ‫עיר‬, see Berrin, The Pesher
Nahum Scroll, 196–98.
43  Indeed, Stegemann argues for a straightforward identification of “Ephraim” with both
“the Seekers of Smooth Things” and the community of the Liar (Die Entstehung, 69–87
[esp. 72–73]), advocating “[d]ie Richtigkeit der aufgestellten Gleichung ‘Ephraim’ =
‫‘ = דורשי החלקות‬Lügenmann’-Gemeinde” (73). See further Brooke, “The Pesharim and
the Origins,” 349; Callaway, The History, 158–60. Bengtsson suggests that “ ‘Ephraim’ must
be considered as a wider basic category . . . in which both the ‘Liar’ characters and ‘the
Seekers of Smooth Things’ are included” (What’s in a Name, 146).
44  The case is somewhat different with the fragmentary text 4Q167, where Ephraim in
the pesher (4Q167 2 3) is clearly anticipated by the presence of Ephraim in the lemma
(Hos 5:14; 4Q167 2 2–3).
45  See especially, Philip R. Davies, Behind the Essenes: History and Ideology in the Dead Sea
Scrolls, BJS 94 (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1987), 87–105; Davies, “What History Can We Get
from the Scrolls, and How?” in The Dead Sea Scrolls: Texts and Context, ed. Charlotte
Hempel, STDJ 90 (Leiden: Brill, 2010), 31–46. See also George J. Brooke, “The Messiah of
Aaron in the Damascus Document,” RevQ 15 (1991), 215–30, 228–29; Collins, The Use of
Sobriquets, 23–26; Grossman, Reading for History, 75–78, 153–57.
46  See, e.g., Bengtsson, What’s in a Name, 135, 288–90; Collins, The Use of Sobriquets, 25,
182–93; Davies, Behind the Essenes, 97–105; Davies, “What History Can We Get”; Fröhlich,
“Qumran Names,” 299–300 (n. 33), 304–5.
Text, Intertext, and Conceptual Identity 221

terminology which are at first employed descriptively (in order to identify an

individual or group, positively or negatively, with a scripturally-grounded ty-
pology) but which may subsequently be adopted, isolated, and re-employed
so as to perform a titular function within later sectarian literature.47 In
doing so, the designations become increasingly prototypical.48 The use and
repetition of associated terminology and the explicit (or frequently, implicit)
influence of relevant scriptural and/or sectarian passages betray the subtle
complexities of this process and the web of inter-related texts and root forms
which lie behind each epithet.49
When we turn to the Damascus Document, we find that “Ephraim” appears
in only two passages by name (CD 7:11–14 and 13:23–14:1),50 both of which cite
Isa 7:17, “the day that Ephraim departed from Judah.” Clearly much could be
made of this (at least retrospectively) in terms of conceptual identity in rela-
tion to the Community and its opponents.51 However, more intriguing is the
passage in column 1 which contains what appears to be the antecedent form of
the label “the Seekers of Smooth Things” (‫)דורשי החלקות‬:

‫ בעבור אשר דרשו בחלקות ויבחרו במהתלות ויצפו‬18

‫ לפרצות ויבחרו בטוב הצואר‬19

For they sought smooth things and chose illusions and watched for
19breaches and chose the fair neck. (CD 1:18–19)52

47  Collins, The Use of Sobriquets (esp. 182–207).

48  E.g., Jokiranta, Social Identity, 175–82; Jokiranta, “Qumran—The Prototypical Teacher in
the Qumran Pesharim: A Social-Identity Approach,” in Ancient Israel: The Old Testament
in Its Social Context, ed. Philip F. Esler (London: SCM, 2005), 254–63; Jokiranta, “Pesharim:
A Mirror of Self-Understanding,” in Reading the Present in the Qumran Library: The
Perception of the Contemporary by Means of Scriptural Interpretations, ed. Kristin De
Troyer and Armin Lange (Atlanta: SBL Press, 2005), 23–34.
49  See further: Bengtsson, What’s in a Name; Collins, The Use of Sobriquets.
50  The second of these, CD 13:23–14:1, is paralleled in: 4Q266 9 iii 17–18; 4Q267 9 v 2–4; 4Q269
10 ii 6–7.
51  Bengtsson suggests that the scriptural passage “is interpreted in CD VII:11–13 as a refer-
ence to a splinter group, who separated itself from the ‘true’ community” (What’s in a
Name, 141). It is not in fact clear that “Ephraim” here is intended to mean anything other
than the Northern Kingdom, though this of course does not preclude the possibility that
it may nevertheless have been read and understood by sectarian readers in the light of ty-
pological language utilised elsewhere in the scrolls. See further, Julie A. Hughes, Scriptural
Allusions and Exegesis in the Hodayot, STDJ 59 (Leiden: Brill, 2006), esp. 41–62.
52  Paralleled in 4Q266 2 i 21–22.
222 Collins

This pairing of “smooth things” (‫ )חלקות‬and “illusions” (‫ )מהתלות‬would appear

to stem from Isa 30:10, where we find “speak to us smooth things, prophesy il-
lusions” (‫)דברו־לנו חלקות חזו מהתלות‬. Furthermore, Isa 30:13 refers to “a breach”
(‫)פרץ‬, which is likewise paralleled here. In the Damascus Document, this
accusation of seeking smooth things and preferring illusions is brought
against “a congregation of traitors” (‫ ;עדת בוגדים‬CD 1:12) who follow “the Man
of Scoffing” (‫)איש הלצון‬, described as having “spouted to Israel waters of a lie”
(‫ ;הטיף לישראל מימי כזב‬1:14–15).53 This figure is said to have “led them astray in a
wilderness without a way” (1:15), and they are further described as “those who
departed from the way” (1:13) and who “depart from the paths of righteous-
ness” (1:15–16). These elements too may draw to some extent upon Isa 30:9–11,
which has not only “speak to us smooth things, prophesy illusions” (applied to
“a rebellious people”) but also “leave the way, turn aside from the path” (30:11).
These all strengthen the case for a direct dependence of CD 1:18–19 upon the
passage in Isaiah.54
Two elements, however, cannot be straightforwardly derived from Isaiah
30—the act of “seeking” (‫ )דרשו בחלקות‬and the reference to “the fair neck” (‫טוב‬
‫)הצואר‬. Instead, both are to be found in Hos 10:11–12, a scriptural passage which
also appears to lie behind the reference to “a teacher of righteousness” a few
lines earlier, in CD 1:10–11. Turning first to Hos 10:12:

Sow for yourselves righteousness; reap steadfast love; break up your fal-
low ground; for it is time to seek the Lord (‫)לדרוש את־יהוה‬, that he may
come and rain righteousness (‫ )ירה צדק‬upon you.

Here seeking the Lord (‫ )דרש‬leads to the raining of righteousness (‫)ירה צדק‬.
In CD 1:10–11, seeking God (‫ )דרש‬leads to the raising up of “a teacher of righ-
teousness” (‫)מורה צדק‬.55 The recurrence of ‫ דרש‬in CD 1:18 (‫ )דרשו בחלקות‬thus
serves to form a direct contrast between the group who sought smooth things
and the righteous remnant who sought God. The influence of Hos 10:12 on this
passage is confirmed by the anomalous reference to “the fair neck” (‫)טוב הצואר‬

53  Note as well the label ‫ מטיף הכזב‬in 1QpHab 10:9–12 and 1Q14 8–10 4–5 (also ‫[ מטיף כזב‬CD
8:12–13; cf. 19:24–26] and ‫[ מטיף‬CD 4:19–20]), and the specific association of ‫איש הכזב‬
with ‫ הבוגדים‬in 1QpHab 2:1–6 and 5:8–21.
54  See further, Jonathan G. Campbell, The Use of Scripture in the Damascus Document 1–8,19–
20, BZAW 228 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1995), 51–67.
55  Note fragmentary parallels to CD 1:10–11 in 4Q266 2 i 14–15 and 4Q268 1 17. Cf. also CD 6:6,
10–11 (paralleled in 4Q266 3 ii 13–17; 4Q267 2 13). See Campbell, The Use of Scripture, 56, 62;
Collins, The Use of Sobriquets, 39–43, 53–55.
Text, Intertext, and Conceptual Identity 223

in CD 1:19, which is taken from the immediately preceding verse (10:11) where,
significantly, it is explicitly associated with Ephraim.

Ephraim (‫ )אפרים‬was a trained heifer that loved to thresh, and I spared

her fair neck (‫ ;)טוב צוארה‬but I will make Ephraim (‫ )אפרים‬break the
ground; Judah must plough; Jacob must harrow for himself.56

Thus, while this sectarian spawning ground for the sobriquet “the Seekers of
Smooth Things” contains no explicit mention of Ephraim, the interweaving
of Isa 30:9–13 and Hos 10:11–12 leads to a clear implicit connection. The use of
scripture in this passage from the Damascus Document results in the concep-
tual development of a group described as having sought smooth things (‫דרשו‬
‫)בחלקות‬, who are further associated with themes of “leading astray” (‫ )תעה‬and
the “spouting” (‫ )נטף‬of lies (‫)כזב‬, and who moreover are implicitly identified
with “Ephraim” (‫)אפרים‬. These are all elements which appear to find fuller ex-
pression (and more explicit interconnectivity) in the later pesharim.
This unspoken implicit association of the Community’s opponents with
Ephraim can likewise be found in CD 4:19–20. The passage elaborates further
on the followers of the “spouter” (‫ ;מטיף‬cf. CD 1:11–18), identifying them as those
who “walked after ‫”צו‬:

‫ בוני החיץ אשר הלכו אחרי צו הצו הוא מטיף‬19

‫  אשר אמר הטף יטיפון הם ניתפשים בשתים‬20

The “builders of the wall” who walked after ‫—צו‬the ‫ צו‬is a spouter
20of whom he said “they shall surely spout”—are caught in two (nets).
(CD 4:19–20)57

56  See further, Campbell, The Use of Scripture, 56, 62.

57  Paralleled in 4Q269 3 1–2; 6Q15 1 1–2. For the “builders of the wall” (‫)בוני החיץ‬, see Ezek
13:10. The “spouter” (‫[ מטיף כזב‬CD 8:13]; ‫[ מטיף אדם לכזב‬CD 19:25–26]) is again associated
with the “builders of the wall” in CD 8:12–13 and 19:24–26, where the influence of Ezek
13:10 is further confirmed by the additional reference to the “daubers of whitewash” (‫טחי‬
‫[ התפל‬CD 8:12]; ‫[ טחי תפל‬CD 19:25]; see ‫[ והוא בנה חיץ והנם טחים אתו תפל‬Ezek 13:10];
cf. ‫[ טחי תפל‬Ezek 13:11]). Also note the pesher interpretation of Hab 2:12 in 1QpHab:
‫פשר הדבר על מטיף הכזב אשר התעה רבים לבנות עיר שוו בדמים ולקים עדה בשקר‬
(1QpHab 10:9–10; cf. 4Q169 3–4 ii 1–2). See further, Collins, The Use of Sobriquets, 72–76,
146–50.
224 Collins

However we might best translate it, this specific accusation of “walking after
‫ ”צו‬also comes from Hosea, where it is once again explicitly associated with
Ephraim.

‫עשוק אפרים רצוץ משפט כי הואיל הלך אחרי־צו‬

Ephraim is oppressed, crushed in judgement, because he was determined

to walk after ‫צו‬. (Hos 5:11)58

Moreover, this scriptural precedent for “walking after ‫ ”צו‬occurs in the immedi-
ate context of accusations regarding the removal of the boundary/landmark
(‫ ;גבול‬Hos 5:10).59 In the Damascus Document this same accusation (‫;לסיע גבול‬
CD 1:16) is brought against the followers of “the Man of Scoffing who spouted
to Israel waters of a lie” (‫ ;איש הלצון אשר הטיף לישראל מימי כזב‬CD 1:14–15), those
who “sought smooth things” (‫ ;דרשו בחלקות‬CD 1:18).60 As with CD 1:11–19, so too
here in CD 4:19–20 the particular use and selection of scripture to characterise

58  The NRSV renders “to go after vanity,” following LXX ματαίων (with a note adding that the
meaning of the Hebrew is uncertain). Note also the appearance of ‫ צו‬in Isa 28:10 and 28:13
(‫)צו לצו צו לצו‬. Dupont-Sommer suggests that ‫ צו‬may here be “a sort of onomatopoeia to
describe ironically a prophet’s prating” (The Essene Writings from Qumran, trans. Geza
Vermes [Oxford: Blackwell, 1961], 128 n. 10); cf. “a syllable mimicking prophetic speech”
(William L. Holladay, ed., A Concise Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament
[Leiden: Brill, 2000], 304). White (“The House of Peleg,” 82) considers a possible con-
nection between ‫( צו‬CD 4:19) and ‫( שוו‬1QpHab 10:10–11), the latter term qualifying the
“city” built “with bloodshed” by “the Spouter of the Lie” (1QpHab 10:5–13; cf. 4Q169 3–4 ii
1–2; see n. 57 above). Gert Jeremias further draws attention to ‫( סוד שוא‬1QHa 10:24), ‫עדת‬
‫( שוא‬1QHa 14:8), and ‫( עדת שו‬1QHa 15:37), positing a connotational equation between
‫צו‬, ‫שוא‬, and ‫ שוו‬in the sectarian texts (Der Lehrer der Gerechtigkeit, SUNT 2 [Göttingen:
Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1963], 88). In relation to CD 4:19–20, Jeremias notes that “[d]as
Wort Zaw ist schon sehr früh auf eine Person gedeutet worden, sowohl bei Aq., Sym.,
Targ., Pesch. als auch bei den Rabbinen. Entsprechend wird an unserer Stelle der ‫ צו‬auf
den Leiter der Gegner, den uns hinlänglich bekannten ‫ מטיף‬gedeutet” (Der Lehrer, 97).
59  Note, however, that in Hos 5:10 it is “the princes of Judah” who are associated with this
activity (‫ ;)היו שרי יהודה כמסיגי גבול‬cf. CD 8:1–6 and 19:13–18. Hogeterp, “Eschatological
Identities,” 125–26; Hultgren, “A New Literary Analysis.”
60  Also CD 5:20 (‫)ובקץ חרבן הארץ עמדו מסיגי הגבול ויתעו את ישראל‬, paralleled in 4Q266 3
ii 7–8; 4Q267 2 4; 4Q271 1 2; 6Q15 3 2–3. Cf. Deut 19:14; 27:17. Note further that ‫ צו‬in Isa 28:10
and 28:13 (‫ )צו לצו צו לצו‬appears in the immediate context of “men of scoffing” (‫;אנשי לצון‬
Isa 28:14; cf. CD 1:14; 20:11; 4Q162 2:6). James C. VanderKam even suggests that “[p]erhaps
the overlap in letters between ‫ צו‬and ‫ לצון‬is not accidental” (“Those Who Look for Smooth
Things,” 474 n. 30).
Text, Intertext, and Conceptual Identity 225

the Community’s opponents results in their implicit (though not yet explicit)
identification with “Ephraim,” an association that is developed and built upon
in the pesharim.
Thus, while no explicit connection is to be found, implicit allusions in the
Damascus Document establish for the reader an implied conceptual identifica-
tion of those who seek smooth things and those who are associated with the
Liar’s community (and accused of “leading astray”) with the scriptural typology
“Ephraim.” It is this implicit conceptual identification which we find reflected
explicitly in 4QPesher on Nahum (4Q169) and 4QPesher on Psalmsa (4Q171).

Conclusion

The use of “Judah” and “Ephraim” (and “Manasseh”) as labels in the sectar-
ian literature is not clear-cut or consistent. Indeed, the ambiguity of the terms
themselves (with the potential to refer both alternatively and simultaneously
to the patriarchs, the tribes, the territories, etc.) allows for their flexible usage
(and re-usage) as sectarian labels, allowing for multiple layers of meaning and
interpretation.61 It is also frequently unclear who or what is being so labelled
within the sectarian context, especially since the terms cannot unambiguously
be identified as denoting consistently “good” or “wicked” parties. This calls into
question our ability to relate these terms in any meaningful way to distinct (lit-
erary/historical) groups. Nevertheless, general associations do seem to be pos-
sible across a number of texts, and “Ephraim” remains a label which appears to
be associated with “the Seekers of Smooth Things” and the community of the
Liar, in some form, at least some of the time.
Noting the absence of any reference to “Ephraim” in the lemmata of 4Q169
or 4Q171, it is suggested that this explicit association with “the Seekers of
Smooth Things” and the community of the Liar in the pesharim can instead
legitimately be derived from underlying implicit allusions already present in
the Damascus Document. This may in turn provide an additional lens through
which to understand the Community’s use of “Judah,” and, more generally, af-
ford us further insight into the sectarian (re)employment of these typological
labels for the purposes of constructing and conceptualising insider/outsider
group identity.

61  See n. 33 above.

Strangers to the “Biblical Scrolls”: Balaam’s Fourth
Oracle (Num 24:15–19) and its Links to Other
Unique Excerpted Texts
Helen R. Jacobus

This contribution hopes to engage with one of the well-known interests of my

doctoral supervisor and honorand, that of the sectarian manuscripts containing
excerpted biblical quotations.1 My focus is on a selected cluster of biblical ex-
cerpts in some so-called “non-biblical,” sectarian scrolls that are not preserved in
the “biblical” scrolls. This group of texts is also characterised by “rearranged” bib-
lical excerpts that frequently do not exist in the later textual witnesses, and some
that appear in different forms to “biblical” scrolls, as they are currently defined.2
The excerpts are variously connected by the same biblical quotations, overlaps,
parallels, or identical phrases in the “sectarian” interpretative commentary.
My objective is to argue that excerpts from biblical books in the “non-bib-
lical” sectarian scrolls should, in fact, be included in the editions of the so-
called “biblical” scrolls and in the text books. On a related note, this essay asks
whether this particular textual cluster was intended to be read as a group of
inter-linking texts in a performative context.
It is possibly coincidental that the main excerpts from the biblical books in
this cluster, from the Torah and Prophets, are largely unattested in the “biblical
scrolls” from Qumran. Most of these excerpted texts happen to be unique early
witnesses to their source material. Some of the biblical quotations may have
been deliberately rearranged as an interpretative method, or the scribe made
corrections to his Vorlage, or he copied from earlier textual witnesses that
did not survive.3 However, there is no certain way of ascertaining definitive

1  This essay is indebted to an earlier article, Helen R. Jacobus, “Balaam’s ‘Star Oracle’ (Num
24:15–19) in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in The Star of Bethlehem and the Magi, ed. Peter Barthel
and George van Kooten, TBN 19 (Leiden: Brill, 2015), 399–429 on the possible use of the fourth
Balaam oracle in an early Christian context. Here, I aim to explore this same area from a
Second Temple Jewish textual viewpoint.
2  See George J. Brooke, “What is a Variant Edition? Perspectives from the Qumran Scrolls,” in
In the Footsteps of Sherlock Holmes. Studies in the Biblical Text in Honour of Anneli Aejmelaeus,
ed. Kristin De Troyer, Timothy Michael Law, and Marketta Liljestrom, CBET 72 (Leuven:
Peeters, 2014), 607–22.
3  Eugene Ulrich, The Dead Sea Scrolls and the Developmental Composition of the Bible, VTSup
169 (Leiden: Brill, 2015), 313, states: “There was no ‘final form’ until the organic development
of the texts was halted due to extraneous circumstances.”

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ���7 | doi ��.��63/9789004344532_014

Strangers to the “ Biblical Scrolls ” 227

“scripture” in the “biblical” scrolls from textual differences in “non-biblical

scrolls” where the same excerpts exist.
Where there are internal structural consistencies in excerpts in the “non-
biblical” scrolls, I have assessed them in their own right.4 A cross-manuscript
perspective between related biblical quotations may inform us about other
aspects, especially their poetic structures, performative and aural effects. This
study suggests creating a highly detailed model of classification so that “rear-
rangements,” composited texts, and pluses and minuses in the biblical textual
traditions are finely distinguished.
Calls have begun to emerge for all genres to be given a clear conceptual
framework for literary analysis. For example, taking the rewritten texts as her
starting point, Molly Zahn has argued for a classification model encompassing
a broad range of texts to be included in a well-defined analytical system. She
states, “Recent thought on the issue of genre has emphasised that all texts can
be classified in multiple ways and that texts can participate in multiple genres
or categories simultaneously.”5
Emanuel Tov, in his comments on the purpose of excerpted and abbreviated
biblical texts, such as the tefillin, several manuscripts of Exodus, Deuteronomy,
and Psalms texts from Caves 4 and 11 states that the excerpted biblical texts
(and abbreviated biblical texts) probably do not accurately reflect their sourc-
es because the scribes were not intending to preserve the scriptural written
tradition:

4  For a selection of some arguments in favour of studying the literary variety of biblical texts in
non-biblical scrolls, without placing an anachronistic priority value on the MT, see Timothy
H. Lim, “Biblical Quotations in the Pesharim and the Text of the Bible—Methodological
Considerations,” in The Bible As Book: The Hebrew Bible and the Judaean Desert Discoveries,
ed. Edward D. Herbert and Emanuel Tov (London: The British Library, New Castle, DE: Oak
Knoll, 2002), 71–80; Timothy H. Lim, “Authoritative Scriptures and the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in
The Oxford Handbook of the Dead Sea Scrolls, ed. Timothy H. Lim and John J. Collins (Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 2010), 303–22; James C. VanderKam, “The Wording of Biblical
Citations in Some Rewritten Scriptural Works, in The Bible as Book, 41–56; George J. Brooke,
“The Rewritten Law, Prophets and Psalms: Issues for Understanding the Text of the Bible,” The
Bible As Book, 31–40; Brooke, “E Pluribus Unum: Textual Variety and Definitive Interpretation
in the Qumran Scrolls,” in The Dead Sea Scrolls in Their Historical Context, ed. Timothy H.
Lim et al. (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 2000), 107–22; Hans Debel, “Rewritten Bible, Variant
Literary Editions and Original Text(s): Exploring the Implications of a Pluriform Outlook
on the Scriptural Tradition,” in Changes in Scripture: Rewriting and Interpreting Authoritative
Traditions in the Second Temple Period, ed. Hanne von Weissenberg, Juha Pakkala, and Marko
Martilla, BZAW 419 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2011), 65–91; Alex P. Jassen, Scripture and the Law in the
Dead Sea Scrolls (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2014), 216–46.
5  Molly M. Zahn, “Talking About Rewritten Texts: Some Reflections on Terminology,” Changes
in Scripture, 93–117, 115.
228 Jacobus

If the characterization of these scrolls as excerpted and abbreviated texts

is correct, their major omissions and transpositions should be disregard-
ed in the text critical analysis, but other deviations from MT should be
taken into consideration, for example in the case of the tefillin.6

Tov further argues that excerpted texts do not emanate from the circles “foster-
ing the tradition of the writing of Scripture texts . . . These texts reflect a dif-
ferent approach to the Bible, and they reflect textual traditions beyond that
of the MT. In this context it is relevant to note that several of the excerpted
texts are written in the Qumran scribal practice . . . Several of texts reflect a free
approach to Scripture, which may indicate that they were prepared for per-
sonal use.”7
Such texts, however, may contain literary data about the development of
compositions, or possible remnants of lost literary editions, and poetic tradi-
tions. They could also inform us about methods of editing to integrate biblical
extracts alongside commentaries and mixed biblical quotations.
Currently, only manuscripts containing single, autonomous “biblical” books
without “non-biblical” material, such as paraphrasing or accompanying exege-
sis, sectarian, or otherwise, tend to be considered by some scholars as textual
witnesses to the development of scriptural compositions. Excerpted biblical
texts in “ ‘non-biblical’ scrolls’ ” and abbreviated texts are generally outside
discussions on textual development and the textual transmission of the early
Hebrew Bible and Septuagint.
Often when a verse or passage in an excerpted “non-biblical” scroll has not
been preserved in the “biblical” scroll due to damage, the surviving text in the
“non-biblical” scroll is not referenced in the apparatus to the “biblical” scroll.
The modern editor’s assumption, as expressed by Tov, is that the excerpted ma-
terial was not used for the purposes of transmitting scripture textually. This is
despite the situation that versions of lost texts in “biblical” scrolls have possibly
survived as biblical excerpts, or in abbreviated scrolls.
Valuable biblical quotations and biblical extracts from “non-biblical” scrolls
are not only usually excluded from the critical apparatus of modern scholarly
editions of “biblical” scrolls but they are also omitted from all the secondary

6  Emanuel Tov, “The Biblical Texts from the Judean Desert—An Overview and Analysis,” in
Hebrew Bible, Greek Bible, and Qumran: Collected Essays (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2008),
128–54, 140. The abbreviated texts of 4QCanticles a–b are discussed separately below. See also
Tov’s contribution to this volume.
7  Tov, “Excerpted and Abbreviated Biblical Texts from Qumran,” in Hebrew Bible, Greek Bible
and Qumran, 27–41, 41.
Strangers to the “ Biblical Scrolls ” 229

source books and electronic materials representing the “Dead Sea Scrolls
Bible” corpus. Frequently, excerpted biblical verses in sectarian compositions
are not footnoted or tagged in the “biblical” corpus to alert scholars where bib-
lical passages exist elsewhere.
This rigid division of biblical material into separate categories comes as a
surprise when researching biblical literature, particularly when one discovers
that there are alternative versions, or missing passages that survived outside
the “biblical” scrolls. Although references to the book, chapter and verse of the
biblical extracts are always given in the transcriptions and translations of
“non-biblical” scrolls, the fact that the text may be substantially different from,
or similar to a variety of other sources is rarely noted. An example of textual
differences between the “non-biblical” and the “biblical” scrolls is footnoted
below with reference to the opening half-verse in 4QTestimonia (4Q175).8

8  For example, SP Exod 20:21b (similar to MT Deut 5:28 [25b (Heb)] and Deut 18:18–19) is not pre-
served in “biblical” scrolls as they are defined but it is similar to the version in 4QTestimonia
(4Q175 1–8). In 4Q175 1a the first verse opens in the third-person using ‫ דבר‬and reports direct
speech from the divine voice in the second person singular. In contrast, in MT Deut 5:28b
(25b [Heb]), and 4QDeutj (4Q37) Moses’s report is written in the first person. MT Deut 5:28b
(25b [Heb]) and 4QDeutn (4Q41) 6 1 use ‫ אמר‬for the third person, the divine voice to Moses.
In MT/LXX Deut 5:28b (25b [Heb]) and 4QDeutj the reported quote from Moses uses the first
person pronoun, and the divine direct speech is in the first person singular, as it is in SP Exod
20:21b. The same opening is preserved in the third person in SP Exod 20:21b and 4Q175 using
the verb ‫דבר‬, with the difference that in 4Q175 the divine direct speech to Moses is in the
second person singular (and 4Q175 uses four dots for the Tetragrammaton):
4Q175 1: And **** spoke to Moses saying: “You have heard . . .” ‫וידבר **** אל מושה לאמור‬
‫שמעת‬
 S P Exod 20:21b: And the Lord said to Moses saying: “I have heard . . .” ‫וידבר יהוה אל מושה‬
‫לאמור שמעתי‬
 4QDeutj 3 13:  . . . to me: “I have heard . . .” ‫עת[י‬
̇ ‫ש]מ‬
֯ ‫[אלי‬.
 M T Deut 5:28 (25b {Heb}): And the Lord said to me: “I have heard . . .” ‫ויאמר יהוה אלי‬
‫שמעתי‬
4QDeutn 6 1: And the Lord said . . . ‫ויאמר י̇ [הוה‬.
Hence, 4Q175 does not quote the SP of Exodus almost verbatim at this point, contra Eugene
Ulrich, The Dead Scrolls and the Developmental Composition of the Bible, 182. The full section
4Q175 1–8 that otherwise cites SP Exod 20:21b does not appear comparatively or in full, or
with an explanation in the apparatus of the editions of Exodus or Deuteronomy. However,
the second use of the “prophet” in 4Q175 7 that does not appear in MT Deut 18:19 or SP Exod
20:21b is noted comparatively in the critical apparatus to 4QDeutf (4Q33) frg. 10–12, for Deut
18:19 (Sidnie White Crawford, DJD 14:45–54; Eugene Ulrich, The Biblical Qumran Scrolls:
Transcriptions and Textual Variants, VTSup 134 [Leiden: Brill, 2010], 216). This textual witness
is discussed in the section on 4Q175: First quotation, below). My point is that biblical excerpts
in “non-biblical” scrolls would have a very useful presence in the source books on the Bible in
230 Jacobus

In his Preface to The Biblical Qumran Scrolls, a key reference book, Eugene
Ulrich states:

As in the Discoveries in the Judaean Desert series, “biblical” is understood

in the sense of the traditional Masoretic canon of the Hebrew Bible. That
is, only Qumran Hebrew manuscripts of the twenty-four books of the
Masoretic Text (MT) are included, whether written in the Palaeo-Hebrew
or the Jewish (“square”) script. Not included are manuscripts found at
other sites near the Dead Sea; 4Q(“Reworked”)Pentateuch or other books
which may have been considered Scripture such as Jubilees, 1 Enoch, or
Sirach; recently identified small fragments which do not add in a major
way to our knowledge; quotations in nonbiblical scrolls; or translations of
biblical books into Greek or Aramaic, for example, the Septuagint manu-
script of Leviticus (4QLXXLeva) or the Targum of Job (11QtgJob).9

So, although it is axiomatic that there was a plurality of biblical traditions

in the scrolls from the Judean Desert, a wide variety of biblical texts and the
“biblical” scrolls are still not referenced as witnesses to the early formation of
the Bible in important study resources. Yet, the case of the Book of Jeremiah,
for example, supports an argument in favour of including the “reordered” and
shorter biblical extracts that we find in the “non-biblical” scrolls within our
scholarly reference materials of “biblical” scrolls. 4QJerb,d follows a Vorlage
in Hebrew that is similar to the Septuagint’s edition of LXX Jeremiah. This is
shorter than MT Jeremiah and it also includes some verses in a different order
to MT Jeremiah. 4QJera,c,e reflect a proto-MT version that follows the longer
recension of the MT.10 Had our only source for a Hebrew Vorlage of Jeremiah
that was similar to the LXX existed as a biblical quotation in a “non-biblical”
excerpted scroll, it would not have been included in the reference material of
Bible texts in the Dead Sea Scrolls, and we would not understand that literary
diversity in Jeremiah existed at an earlier date than was once thought.
Moreover, all literary editions are of interest, not only as texts to be com-
pared with the MT and “biblical” scrolls. As Jože Krašovec remarked with refer-
ence to the diversity of textual witnesses in the Book of Jeremiah, “We treat

the Dead Sea Scrolls, and that there is currently an inconsistency so far as their presence
and absence is applied.
9  Ulrich, The Biblical Qumran Scrolls, “Preface.”
10  Ulrich, Dead Sea Scrolls and the Developmental Composition of the Bible, 140–50; Emanuel
Tov, The Greek and Hebrew Bible: Collected Essays on the Septuagint, VTSup 72 (Leiden:
Brill, 1999), 363–84; for transcriptions, see Ulrich, The Biblical Qumran Scrolls, 558–83.
Strangers to the “ Biblical Scrolls ” 231

every version according to its own given structure. In this way we can arrive at
certain conclusions on a level other than the merely text-critical.”11

Numbers 24:17 in a Compositional Web at Qumran

The cluster of texts to be discussed in this short study may be compared to a spi-
der’s web. The thread being unwound here is just one possible strand between
several “non-biblical” scrolls. The cluster contains reoccurrences of different
biblical verses and it may be argued that these surviving repetitions would in-
dicate that the verses concerned were regarded as significant. The heart of our
cluster of excerpted texts is Num 24:15–19, Balaam’s fourth oracle, which is not
extant in any of the “biblical” scrolls of the book of Numbers from Qumran, nor
from other sites in the Judean desert. It has survived as an excerpted text in no
fewer than three separate “sectarian” scrolls in different forms.
These three “non-biblical” manuscripts contain the only witnesses to Num
24:15–19 that have been preserved in the Dead Sea Scrolls. As excerpted biblical
quotations, they are not included in the indexes, photographic reproductions,
translations or reconstructions of the book of Numbers, nor in the apparatus
to its editions because those are based on compilations of passages from the
“biblical” scrolls.12

11  Jože Krašovec, Antithetic Structure in Biblical Hebrew Poetry, VTSup 35 (Leiden: Brill,
1984), 78.
12  Nathan Jastram, “Numbers, Book of,” EDSS 2:615–19. The longest and best-preserved
Numbers scroll from Qumran, 4QNumb (4Q27) represents a different text-type to the edi-
tion of Numbers preserved in the MT: it is expanded with readings that are preserved in
the Samaritan Pentateuch, Num 11–36. The critical edition is Nathan Jastram, “4QNumb
(4Q27),” in Eugene Ulrich et al., Qumran Cave 4.VII: Genesis to Numbers, DJD 12 (Oxford:
Clarendon, 1995), 205–68. For the collected transcriptions of all the Hebrew Numbers
scrolls from different caves at Qumran only, see Ulrich, Biblical Qumran Scrolls, 138–74;
note, two are from Naḥal Ḥever, and one from Wadi Murabbaʿât (not included in Biblical
Qumran Scrolls). See the introduction and English translations to all the biblical Numbers
scrolls from all the sites in Martin Abegg, Peter Flint, and Eugene Ulrich, The Dead Sea
Scrolls Bible (New York: HarperCollins, 1999), 108–44; Peter W. Flint and Andrea E. Alvarez,
“The Preliminary Edition of the First Numbers Scrolls from Nahal Hever,” Bulletin for
Biblical Research 9 (1999): 137–43, contains a comprehensive index of Numbers passages
in biblical scrolls from all the sites. Emanuel Tov, “The Biblical Texts from the Judaean
Desert: 1. Categorized List of the Biblical Texts,” in The Texts from the Judaean Desert:
Indices and an Introduction to the Discoveries in the Judaean Desert Series, ed. Emanuel
Tov, DJD 39 (Oxford: Clarendon, 2002), 169, 179; Eugene Ulrich, “The Biblical Texts from
232 Jacobus

The cluster includes other excerpted biblical verses in the “non-biblical”

scrolls within which the citation of Balaam’s fourth oracle may be situated,
and cross-manuscript links that are directly, or indirectly connected with the
textual context of Num 24:15–19, that is, other manuscripts related to the texts.
This contribution’s journey into one small corner of the textual web of
the “non-biblical” scrolls takes as its point of departure what George Brooke
calls the “Controlling Intertext,” the authoritative, base hypotext that controls
the structure of the hypertextual commentary, the dependent text.13 Using
4QEschatological Commentary A (4Q174) and 4QEschatological Commentary
B (4Q177), two eschatological commentaries as case studies, Brooke argues
that there are four levels of hierarchy in early Jewish exegetical texts. He states,
“The author of the commentary (or his sources) makes explicit reference to
other authoritative texts that are used to support the interpretation and there
are echoes of possible textual worlds.”14 This idea is here adapted to include
manuscripts in addition to 4Q174 and 4Q177 that include biblical quotations re-
flecting “possible textual worlds.” These possibilities will be carefully assessed
using literary methodologies to delineate the cluster.
We discuss Num 24:17cdef that is cited in three manuscripts: 4QTestimonia
(4Q175) 9–13, 1QWar Scroll (1QM or 1Q33) 11:6–7, and the Damascus Documenta
7 (CD 7) 19b–21, which is the closest to the MT. The last is parallel to 4QDamascus
Documenta ([4QDa] 4Q266) 3 iii 20b–21a.15 Translations of Num 24:15–19 as

the Judaean Desert: 2. Index of passages in the Biblical Texts,” in DJD 39:179. All exclude
Num 24:15–19 excerpted in “non-biblical” texts.
13  George J. Brooke, “Controlling Intertexts and Hierarchies of Echo in Two Thematic
Eschatological Commentaries from Qumran,” in Between Text and Text: The Hermeneutics
of Intertextuality in Ancient Cultures and Their Afterlife in Medieval and Modern Times,
ed. Michaela Bauks, Wayne Horowitz, and Armin Lange (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck &
Ruprecht, 2013), 181–95.
14  Brooke, “Intertexts and Hierarchies of Echo,” 194, has proposed that the title of 4Q174
should be 4QEschatological Commentary A, and that the related text, 4Q177 should be
entitled 4QEschatological Commentary B. See George J. Brooke, “From Florilegium or
Midrash to Commentary: The Problem of Re-naming an Adopted Manuscript, in The
Mermaid and the Partridge, ed. George J. Brooke and Jesper Høgenhaven (Leiden: Brill,
2011), 129–50. These titles have now been adopted on the Leon Levy Dead Sea Scrolls
Digital Library website for those manuscripts.
15  Joseph M. Baumgarten, “266. 4QDamascus Documenta,” in Qumran Cave 4.VIII: The
Damascus Document (4Q266–273), ed. Joseph M. Barmgarten et al., DJD 18 (Oxford:
Clarendon, 1996), 44; García Martínez and Tigchelaar, DSSSE, 586–87; David Hamidović,
“CD-A (Damascus Documenta) col. vii,” in L’Ėcrit de Damas: Le manifeste essénien, CREJ 51
(Louvain: Peeters, 2011), 47–49; García Martínez and Tigchelaar, DSSSE, 560–61.
Strangers to the “ Biblical Scrolls ” 233

they appear in the MT and LXX are given below. Major differences between the
MT and LXX are in italics:

Masoretic Text of Num 24:15–19

Num 24:15a And he uttered his prophecy, and he said:

Num 24:15b Oracle of Balaam, son of Beor,
Num 24:15c Oracle of the man whose eye is open
Num 24:16a Oracle of the one who hears the words of God
Num 24:16b And knows the knowledge of the Most High
Num 24:16c (Who) beholds the vision of Shaddai
Num 24:16d Fallen down but eyes uncovered:
Num 24:17a I see him, but not now
Num 24:17b I behold him, but not near
Num 24:17c A star has marched forth16 from Jacob
Num 24:17d A sceptre shall rise from Israel17

16  For some traditional Jewish interpretations of this verse see Leonard Elliott Binns, The
Book of Numbers (London: Methuen, 1927), 171–72. Thus a “star,” ‫כוכב‬, is understood as a
symbol of a monarch in Isa 14:12 and Ezek 32:7, while the Targums agree with the replace-
ment of “star” by “king” (see further Alberdina Houtman and Harry Sysling, “Balaam’s
Fourth Oracle,” in The Prestige of the Pagan Prophet Balaam in Judaism, Early Christianity
and Islam, ed. George H. van Kooten and Jacques T.A.G.M. van Ruiten, TBN 11 [Leiden:
Brill, 2008], 189–212). Milgrom states that if ‫ כוכב‬means “host,” not “star,” then the transla-
tion should be “a host shall march forth from Jacob” (Jacob Milgrom, Numbers, JPS Torah
Commentary [Philadelphia: JPS, 1990], 207). Ronald E. Clements, TDOT 7:82, states, “The
‘star’ out of Israel that crushes Moab and Edom undoubtedly represents the historical
David and the period of his rule in Israel.” The meaning of ‫ דרך‬here is “tread” or “march”
(qal, perfect). See BDB, 201; DCH 2:462.
17  L XX Num 24:17d renders the Hebrew noun ‫שבט‬, “sceptre,” as ἄνθρωπος, “man,” while the
ancient Syriac version reads “leader” (cf. Isa 14:15 and Gen 49:10, the death-bed blessing of
Jacob to Judah and his descendants for kingly rulership who would include David). See
comment on the messianic “man” in the LXX by Adela Yarbro Collins and John J. Collins,
King and Messiah as Son of God: Divine, Human, and Angelic Figures in Biblical and Related
Literature (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2008), 55, “There is no hint that a future king will
have more than human status.” The traditional rabbinical translation is “meteor” (see
The Torah: Numbers, [Philadelphia: JPSA, 1962], 296, and the note to the text, in Milgrom,
Numbers, 208). Stanley Gervitz rejects the traditional translations of ‫ שבט‬as “sceptre” or
“meteor” the latter as a parallel with “star” and favours the translation of shevet, as “tribe,”
on comparative philological grounds, translating Num 24:17cd as: “A host shall march
from out of Jacob and a tribe (or militia) shall arise out of Israel.” Stanley Gevirtz, “A New
Look at an Old Crux: Amos 5:26,” JBL 87 (1987): 267–76, 269–70.
234 Jacobus

Num 24:17e It shatters the [forehead-]temples18 of Moab

Num 24:17f And destroys19 all the children of Shet
Num 24:18a Edom will become a possession
Num 24:18b And Seir, a possession of those who destroy it
Num 24:18c And Israel performs valiantly
Num 24:19a One from Jacob shall have dominion20
Num 24:19b He will destroy the remnant from a city.21

Septuagint Text of Num 24: 15–19

Num 24:15a And he took up his parable and said:

Num 24:15b Says Balaam, son of Beor,
Num 24:15c Says the man who truly sees
Num 24:16a One who hears divine oracles,
Num 24:16b One who understands knowledge of the Most High
Num 24:16c And one who sees a divine vision,
Num 24:16d In sleep when his eyes had been uncovered:
Num 24:17a I will point to him but not now
Num 24:17b I deem him happy, but he is not at hand

18  ‫ה‬
 ‫פא‬, “corner, side” (BDB, 802), “temples and forehead” (DCH 6:644–45). In the Septuagint,
the phrase reads ἀρχηγούς Mοαβ, “leaders (synonym: “heads”) of Moab.” NETS, 131, renders
“chiefs of Moab.” Milgrom, Numbers, 207–8 n. 66, translates ἀρχηγούς as “foundation.”
19  The English Standard Version: translates ‫ קרקר‬as “destroy, break down,” the pilpel of the
verb, ‫קור‬, “bore,” “dig” (‫קור‬, BDB, 881), “tear down” (DCH 7:330). However, BDB, 869b, sug-
gests that ‫ קרקר‬should be read as ‫קדקד‬, a noun meaning “the crowns [of the heads], of
all the children of Shet” (with dalet replacing resh), as this verse reads in Jer 48:45. The
altered reading would be a parallel noun to ‫“( פאה‬the corners of the forehead/temples of
Moab”) in Num 24:17e and follow the pun-interpretation in the Septuagint where “heads”
means “leaders.” On the other hand, since the full cola of Num 24:17e is not contained in
the citation of the verse in CD 7, the rearrangement of the text in CD 7:20 (below) would
suggest that this word makes more sense as a verbal parallel with that in Num 24:17e. In
CD 7:20 the syntax can only work if the lexeme is a verb. Therefore, “and destroy (‫)וקרקר‬
all the children of Shet” parallels the verb “and shatters (‫ )ומחץ‬the forehead-corners of
Moab,” rather than paralleling the noun, “crowns (of the heads) . . . Shet,” with “the cor-
ners of the skull [temples] . . . Moab.” Note, in all three occurrences of the verse in the
texts here discussed, the word is spelled with resh, not dalet, overturning the old theory
in BDB.
20  L XX Num 24:19a reads, “And one shall arise out of Jacob,” instead of “exercise dominion,”
‫( וירד‬from the root ‫רדה‬, “have dominion,” “rule”; BDB, 921; DCH 7:420; not ‫ירד‬, “descend”).
21  Translation follows English Standard Version (with modifications).
Strangers to the “ Biblical Scrolls ” 235

Num 24:17c A star shall dawn out of Jacob

Num 24:17d And a person shall rise up out of Israel
Num 24:17e And he shall crush the chiefs of Moab,
Num 24:17f And he shall plunder all Seth’s sons.
Num 24:18a And Edom will be an inheritance
Num 24:18b And Esau, his enemy, will be an inheritance
Num 24:18c And Israel acted with strength
Num 24:19a And one shall arise out of Jacob,
Num 24:19b And he shall destroy one being saved from a city.”22

Significant variants to the vocabulary of ‫ קום‬in MT Num 24:17d occur in 4Q175

and 1QM. These include: “has arisen” in 4Q175 12 (supralinear) (‫ )ויקום‬and
“rises” in 1QM 11 6 (‫)קם‬. The declination “shall arise” (‫ )וקם‬in CD 7:19 agrees
with the MT.23

4QTestimonia (4QTest; 4Q175)

Even though none of the manuscripts in the cluster under discussion contain-
ing Num 24:17 is strictly speaking, a pesher, they all follow a similar thematic
formula of having the biblical quotation introduced exegetically in different
ways.24 Shani Tzoref offers an extensive classification of pesher and pesher-like
commentaries that use and do not use the term pesher. One of the criteria
is the use of formulas associated with explicit biblical citations, whether or
not the term pesher itself is used.25

22  Translation follows NETS.

23  For an overall summary of scholarship on in the Dead Sea Scrolls on the pluriformity
of the messianic element of Num 24:17 in the Dead Sea Scrolls, see Florentino García
Martínez, “Balaam in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in The Prestige of the Pagan Prophet Balaam
in Judaism, Early Christianity and Islam, 71–82, 75–80; John J. Collins, The Sceptre and the
Star, 78–82; 103–4; Brooke, “E Pluribus Unum,” 113–14.
24  For an in-depth study on aspects of this issue, see, Moshe Bernstein, “Introductory
Formulas for Citation and Re-Citation of Biblical Verses in the Qumran Pesharim:
Observations on a Pesher Technique,” in Moshe Bernstein, Reading and Re-Reading
Scripture at Qumran: Law, Pesher and the History of Interpretation, STDJ 107 (Leiden: Brill,
2013), 2:635–73.
25  Shani Tzoref, “Qumran Pesharim and the Pentateuch: Explicit Citation, Overt Typologies,
and Implicit Interpretative Traditions,” DSD 16 (2009): 190–220, esp. 199–200.
236 Jacobus

4QTestimonia does not contain explicit interpretative commentary, and is,

therefore, not strictly speaking a pesher. Jonathan Campbell describes 4Q175
as being at “the minimalist extreme of the spectrum of scriptural exegesis.”26
It comprises four excerpts based on other texts.27 Emanuel Tov refers to the
work as a “small anthology”28 and states that 4QTest is “definitely a sectarian
composition.”29 The scribe who copied the text came from Qumran circles;30
its orthography conforms to the “Qumran” scribal practice according to Tov’s
criteria, and he suggests that it may have been a de luxe edition.31

4Q175: First Quotation

The text’s opening excerpt consists of a similar version to proto-SP Exod

20:21b,32 comprising similarities to two biblical extracts from Deuteronomy:
MT Deut 5:28b–29 (25b–26 {Heb})and Deut 18:18–19 running consecutively. An
early version of SP Exod 20:21b is also reflected in 4QReworked Pentateucha

26  John G. Campbell, The Exegetical Texts (London: T&T Clark, 2004), 88.
27  John Allegro, “175. Testimonia,” DJD 5:57–60; John Strugnell, “Notes en marge du volume
V des Discoveries of the Judaean Desert of Jordan,” RevQ 26 (1970): 163–229, 225–29;
Frank M. Cross, “Testimonia (4Q175=4QTestimonia=4QTestim),” PTSDSSP 6B, 308–27;
Campbell, Exegetical Texts, 88–99, esp. 92–93; Tov, Hebrew Bible, Greek Bible, and Qumran:
Collected Essays, 30–31. Molly M. Zahn, Rethinking Rewritten Scripture: Composition and
Exegesis in the 4QReworked Pentateuch Manuscripts, STDJ 95 (Leiden: Brill, 2011), 135–77;
David Katzin, “The Use of Scripture in 4Q175,” DSD 20 (2013): 200–36; Annette Steudel,
“Testimonia,” EDSS, 2:936–38; García Martínez and Tigchelaar, DSSSE, 356–57; Michael
Wise, Martin Abegg, and Edward Cook, eds., The Dead Sea Scrolls: A New Translation (New
York: HarperCollins, 1996), 258–60; George J. Brooke, Exegesis at Qumran: 4QFlorilegium
in its Jewish Context, JSOTSup 29 (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic, 1985), 309–19.
28  Tov, Hebrew Bible, Greek Bible and Qumran: Collected Essays, 29.
29  Tov, Hebrew Bible, Greek Bible and Qumran: Collected Essays, 90.
30  The scribe, whose handwriting is known from sectarian documents including 1QS, 1Sa,
1QSb, and 4QSamuelc, uses four dots in row to represent the Tetragrammaton, see Eibert
Tigchelaar, “In Search of the Scribe of 1QS,” in Emanuel, ed. Shalom M. Paul et al., VTSup
94 (Leiden: Brill, 2003), 439–52.
31  Emanuel Tov, Textual Criticism of the Hebrew Bible, 3rd ed. (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2012),
208–17; Emanuel Tov, Scribal Practices and Approaches Reflected in Texts Found in the
Judean Desert, STDJ 54 (Leiden: Brill, 2004), 65, 129.
32  See n. 8 for textual comparison in the opening verse unit.
Strangers to the “ Biblical Scrolls ” 237

(4Q158) frg. 6 7–933 which contains expansions of the SP.34 Unlike the scribe of
4Q175, the scribe of 4Q158 does not use dots to represent the Tetragrammaton.35
The Deuteronomy content of SP Exod 20:21b in 4Q175 is represented in sepa-
rate Deuteronomy scrolls.36
One noteworthy feature of the variant of SP Exod 20:21b in 4Q175 is that
there is a second use of the noun ‫הנביא‬, “the prophet,” (4Q175 7c) (without the
final aleph). The phrasing is slightly different in both the MT (Deut 18:19b) and
SP (Exod 20:21b), as well as in the biblical scroll, 4QDeutf (4Q33) frgs. 10–12
2.37 The first use of “prophet” is in MT Deut 18:18a/SP Exod 20:21b; 4Q175 5: “I
will raise up a prophet like you, for them . . .” The second use of “prophet” in
4Q175 7, “which the prophet will speak in my name,” ‫ידבר הנבי בשמי‬, is in con-
trast to 4Q33 10–12 2 (‫)]ידבר בשמי‬, MT Deut 18:19b, and SP Exod 20:21b reading
“which he shall speak in my name.”
The second use of the epithet “prophet” in Deut 18:19b is preserved in the
Septuagint.38 The quotation in 4Q175 otherwise has the same arrangement as
SP Exod 20:21b.

33  Plate 138, frg. 7 on the Leon Levy Digital Dead Sea Scrolls website: http://www.deadsea
scrolls.org.il/explore-the-archive/image/B-358489 (infrared, black and white); http://
www.deadseascrolls.org.il/explore-the-archive/image/B-358488 (full spectrum, colour).
It is numbered frg. 6 in John M. Allegro, “158. Biblical Paraphrase: Genesis, Exodus,” DJD
5:3 (pl. 1); John Strugnell, “Notes en marge,” 171–73; Zahn, Rethinking, 251, Daniel Falk,
The Parabiblical Texts: Strategies for Extending the Scriptures among the Dead Sea Scrolls,
LSTS 63 (T&T Clark: London, 2007), 112–14; Michael Segal, “Biblical Exegesis in 4Q158:
Techniques and Genre,” Textus 19 (1998): 55–56.
34  For further discussion, see Christoph Berner, “The Redaction History of the Sinai Pericope
(Exod 19–24) and its Continuation in4Q158,” DSD 20 (2013): 378–409 (esp. 392–95). A new
edition of 4Q158 is being prepared by Moshe Bernstein and Molly Zahn. See also Molly
Zahn, “Building Textual Bridges: Towards Understanding 4Q158 (Reworked Pentateuch
A), in The Mermaid and the Partridge, 13–32; Magnar Kartveit, The Origin of the Samaritans
(Leiden: Brill, 2009), 268, 271–73; Emanuel Tov, Textual Criticism of the Hebrew Bible, 2nd
rev. ed. (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2001), 88. Tov describes 4Q158 as of a “pre-Samaritan char-
acter,” in his Scribal Practices and Approaches, 30.
35  John Allegro, “158. Biblical Paraphrase: Genesis, Exodus,” DJD 5:3 (revised in Strugnell,
“Notes en marge,” 171–73).
36  Deut 5:28: 4QDeutj 3:12; Deut 5:28–29: 4QDeutn 4:1–3; 4QDeutkl 1 1–3; Deut 5:29: 4QDeutj
4:1–2; Deut 18:18–19: 4QDeutf 10–12 1, see Ulrich, Biblical Qumran Scrolls, 190–91, 216.
37  4Q175 7c: “to the words which the prophet will speak in my name,” ‫אל דברי אשר ידבר‬
‫הנבי בשמי‬. Cf. MT Deut 18:19b: “to the words which he will speak in my name,” ‫אל דברי‬
‫ ;אשר ידבר בשמי‬4QDeutf (4Q33) 10–12, 2: ‫]ידבר בשמי‬. White Crawford, “33. Deutf,” DJD
14:49; Ulrich, Biblical Qumran Scrolls, 216.
38  Allegro, DJD 5:59; White Crawford, DJD 14:49; Ulrich, Biblical Qumran Scrolls, 216.
238 Jacobus

In his reconstruction of 4Q158 6 7 Christoph Berner does not insert a second

“prophet” between ‫ בשמי‬and ‫ידבר‬.39 He states:

Exod 20:21; Deut 5:28b–29 (Heb: 5:25b–26) and Deut 18:18 originally
existed separately and only at a fairly late stage developed a set of ex-
plicit cross references . . .; the literary evolution reached its temporary cli-
max with the amalgamated version of all three sources in the proto-SP.
However, the development had not yet come to a close. 4Q158 6 7–9 pre-
serves the proto SP text with some characteristic expansions which con-
vey at least an impression of the further course redaction history took.40

Other scholars have reconstructed “[that the prophet shall speak in my

name . . .]” in 4Q158 6 7.41 4Q175 contains a more accurate compilation of
Deut 5:28b–29 (5:25–26 [Heb]) and Deut 18:18 than 4Q158.
The expansion “that the prophet shall speak in my name” in 4Q175 7 may
not have been regarded as redundant from a literary point of view because it
clarifies the possible ambiguity of “he shall speak in my name” in 4Q33 10–12 2,
SP Exodus 20:21b, and MT Deut 18:19b. Thus, its use at this point grammatically
reinforces the first reference to “a prophet like you” (Moses) in the preceding
verse (4Q175 5). It may be argued that the second use of “prophet” creates a
context for the opening of Balaam’s speech, the second quotation in 4Q175. If
the first two quotations—speeches by Moses and Balaam—were read sequen-
tially, the second use of “prophet” may imply that Balaam is the future prophet
like Moses referenced in MT Deut 18:18a//SP Exod 20:21b.
However, since the second use of “prophet” exists in LXX Deut 18:19b, it is an
open question as to whether the copyist of 4Q175 had this meaning in mind, or
if he chose to use the Hebrew base text of the Septuagint at this juncture, or if
both texts came from a common source.
In terms of “textual worlds,” the first quotation of 4Q175 is based on SP Exod
20:21b, which is related to 4Q158 6 6–7. It also incorporates the Hebrew Vorlage
of LXX Deut 18:19b. I have suggested that 4Q175 focuses on the context of the
relationship between the quotations, rather than the narrative concerns of
4Q158. If so, it leads smoothly to the second quotation, Num 24:17.

39  Berner, “The Redaction History of the Sinai Pericope,” 395; nor does Zahn, Rethinking, 251,
or Falk, Parabiblical Texts, 112.
40  Berner, “The Redaction History of the Sinai Pericope,” 394.
41  See, the reconstruction of 4Q158 6 7 in the Qumran module of Martin J. Abegg, Accor-
dance, OakTree Software, 2016.
Strangers to the “ Biblical Scrolls ” 239

4Q175: Second Quotation

It is believed that the quotation of Num 24:15–17 (4Q175 9–13) has multiple
citations in the Dead Sea Scrolls because of its messianic overtones. As noted
above it has the reading “has arisen,” inscribed above ‫שבט‬, “sceptre,” written
with a medial instead of a final mem (Num 24:17d [4Q175 12]), in contrast to
“shall rise” in MT, LXX, and CD 7. The text follows the proto-MT with “sceptre”
(instead of “man” as in the LXX).

4Q175 9–13

Num 24:15–17
9. (Num 25:15a) And he uttered his poem and said: (Num 24:15b)
“Oracle of Balaam, son of Beor (Num 24:15c) and oracle of the man
10. of penetrating eye, (Num 24:16a) oracle of him who listens to the
words of God (Num 24:16b) and knows the knowledge of Most High,
(Num 24:16c) who (‫אשר‬, not in MT)
11. sees the vision of Shaddai, (Num 24:16d) lying down and with an
uncovered eye (‫עין‬, MT; LXX: “eyes”). (Num 24:17a) I see him but not
now,
12. (Num 24:17b) I behold him, but not close up (Num 24:17c). A star has
departed from Jacob, (Num 24:17d) and a sceptre ^has arisen^ from
Israel. (Num 24:17e) He shall crush ‫ומחץ‬
13. the (forehead-) temples of Moab, (Num 24:17f) and smash all the
children of Shet.”

The quotation is used differently in the three scrolls in which it appears. Within
4Q175, it is suggested, above, that it can be read on from the previous quota-
tion. If so, it identifies Balaam as a prophet and has a thematic connection
to Moses in the first quotation, Levi in the third quotation, and Joshua in the
fourth quotation. Brooke points out that there is a link word ‫ מחץ‬in Deut 33:11c
and Num 24:17e.42

42  Brooke, Exegesis at Qumran, 318.

240 Jacobus

4Q175: Third Quotation

The next biblical quotation in 4Q175 is Deut 33:8–11 (4Q175 14–20), which also
partly occurs in the more fragmentary 4Q174 6 3–7.43 It is preserved in the “bib-
lical” scroll 4QDeuth (4Q35) 11–15 1–4, an “independent” text type aligned with
the LXX.44 The third quotation also has some affinities with the proto-MT and
LXX. Like the two previous quotations, there is no commentary attached. The
parallel excerpt in 4Q174 is lacunose.45
Moses’s death-bed blessing to Levi in Deut 33:8–11 reproduced in 4Q175 in-
cludes the instruction, “Give to Levi” which is not in the MT and SP, but exists
in the LXX and 4QDeuth 11–15 1. Jonathan Campbell suggests that the phrase
“Give to Levi” in LXX Deut 33:8b (4Q175 14b), may have dropped out of the pro-
to-MT due to scribal error.46 The fact that it also occurs in 4QDeuth though, il-
lustrates that the scribe of 4Q175 was probably following his Vorlage correctly:47

4Q175 14b: ‫הבו ללוי‬, “Give to Levi”

̇ ‫]הבו‬, “Give to Lev[i”
4QDeuth 11–15 1 (and LXX): ‫ללו֯ [י‬

43  Brooke, Exegesis at Qumran, 89, text of 4Q174 6–7 (see DJD 5, pl. XX) containing the text
and its interpretation, translation, 94; Jacob Milgrom, “Florilegium: A Midrash on 2 Samuel
and Psalms 1–2 (4Q174=4QFlor),” PTSDSSP 6B, 248–63 (text and translation, 256–57), tex-
tual comparison with 4Q175, 256 n. 72; Allegro, “174. Florilegium,” DJD 5:53–57; Strugnell,
“Notes en marge,” 220–25; 4QDeuth 11–15, Biblical Qumran Scrolls, 244. Note, that on the
Leon Levy Dead Sea Scrolls Digital Library website former 4Q174 6 has been labelled as
frg. 4; former 4Q174 7 has been relabelled as frg. 2; and former 4Q174 4 is now frg. 1. To avoid
confusion, all fragment numbering follows that of the published editions. 4Q174 has been
renamed 4Q Eschatological Commentary A on the website. http://www.deadseascrolls
.org.il/explore-the-archive/manuscript/4Q174-1 .
44  Emanuel Tov, “The Biblical texts from the Judean Desert—An Overview and Analysis
of the Published Texts,” in The Bible as Book: The Hebrew Bible and the Judean Desert
Discoveries, 150. For 4QDeuth 11–15, see Ulrich, Biblical Qumran Scrolls, 244; Julie A.
Duncan, DJD 14:68–70; see also Tov, The Greek and Hebrew Bible: Collected Essays on the
Septuagint, 297; Tov, Scribal Practices and Approaches, 29–30. On the Leon Levy Digital
Dead Sea Scrolls website the quotations cited are on pl. 390, frg. 6 http://www.deadsea
scrolls.org.il/explore-the-archive/image/B-475284 (infrared, black and white); http://www
.deadseascrolls.org.il/explore-the-archive/image/B-475283 (full spectrum, colour).
45  Campbell, Exegetical Texts, 37, 93; Brooke, Exegesis at Qumran, 89, 94, 317–18; J. Allegro,
“174. Florilegium,” DJD 5:56.
46  Campbell, Exegetical Texts, 93–94. See also, Ulrich, Developmental Composition, 182–83.
47  Ulrich, Developmental Composition, 182–83.
Strangers to the “ Biblical Scrolls ” 241

This example shows the value of excerpted texts in helping to provide confir-
mation of a composition in the “biblical” scrolls, particularly where there is
an underlying Hebrew version of the Old Greek text, or an unknown Hebrew
text. Readable excerpted biblical quotations in the “non-biblical” scrolls can
aid in the reconstruction of “biblical” scrolls. Similarly, preserved text in “bibli-
cal” scrolls can be useful for restoring damaged text in “non-biblical” scrolls. In
this case, 4Q175 is very well preserved, while 4QDeuth is not.
4Q175 16b differs from MT Deut 33:9c, ‫לא ראיתיו‬, “I have not seen him,” and
SP Deut 33:9c, ‫לא ראיתי‬, “I have not seen.” 4Q175 16b reads with ‫ידע‬, “I have not
known you,” ‫לאדעתיכהי‬ ֯ .48 By contrast, 4QDeuth 11–15 2 also uses ‫ ראה‬in “I have
not seen you,” [‫( לא] ראיתך‬in agreement with LXX Deut 33:9c):

4Q175 16b: ‫לאדעתיכהי‬

֯
4QDeuth 11–15 2 (and LXX): [‫לא] ראיתך‬
SP Deut 33:9c: ‫לא ראיתי‬
MT Deut 33:9c: ‫לא ראיתיו‬

This mixed text-type model is also applicable to the continuing section of

Balaam’s fourth oracle in 1QM which overlaps with 4Q175 at Num 24:17c-f, as
shall be examined in the section on the War Scroll.

4Q175: Fourth Quotation

The fourth and final passage in 4Q175 21a–30, is a near-replication of the frag-
mentary remains of 4QApocryphon of Joshuab (4Q379) 22 ii 7–15.49 It contains
a citation of Josh 6:26 and an interpretation on the cursing of the rebuilder of
the city (Jericho).50 According to the editor of 4Q379, Carol Newsom, 4Q379

48  Transcription according to Ulrich, Biblical Qumran Scrolls, 244; Allegro read that the aleph
was erased and overwritten by a yod. He further read the final letter as a vav, rather than a
yod, ‫לידעתיכהו‬, DJD 5:58–59.
49  For the critical edition see Carol A. Newsom, “379. 4QApocryphon of Joshuab,” in Qumran
Cave 4.XVII: Parabiblical Texts, Part 3, ed. George J. Brooke et al., DJD 22 (Oxford: Clarendon,
1996), 263–88, pls. 21–25.
50  The first verse of the commentary in 4Q175 23b–24 differs slightly from 4Q379 22 ii 9b–10:
“And [now cursed be the man of Belial who rises to b]e a fowler’s trap for his people
and ruin for all his neighbour[s]” (García Martínez and Tigchelaar, DSSSE, 750–51). For a
comparative study of the text between 4Q175 and 4Q379, see Ariel Feldman, The Rewritten
Joshua Scrolls from Qumran: Texts, Translations and Commentary (Berlin: de Gruyter,
2014), 74–127, 122–23.
242 Jacobus

itself was not copied by scribes at Qumran since it does not reflect the linguis-
tic criteria defined by Tov for Qumran sectarian compositions, or for copies of
earlier works at Qumran. Several scholars are of the view that the text contains
actual historical references.
If the theory that Joshua’s curse was a symbolic allusion to the real historical
figures of Simon or John Hyrancus holds then the original composition may
have been written in the late second or early first century.51 Newsom makes the
point that the “city” intended by the author of 4Q175 may be Jerusalem.52
The commentary on the citation of Josh 6:26 in 4QApocryphon of Joshuab
contains more scribal corrections than the version in 4Q175. In general, 4Q175
has fewer corrections and it does not contain any duplications. By contrast,
4Q379 has a possible repetition of the phrase, “amongst the sons of Jacob” in
4Q379 22 ii 13 (reconstructed). On the same line in 4Q379 22 ii 13, the phrase
“in Israel, and a horror in Ephraim [and Judah]” is inserted above the line, fol-
lowed by “amongst the sons of Jacob” again in 4Q379 22 ii 14.
In 4Q175 27, the first mention of “in Israel, and a horror in Ephraim and
Judah” is followed by the first and only reference to the “sons of [Jacob,” in
4Q175 28–29. Since the duplication in 4Q379 appears to be an error, ruining the
poetic parallelism, this text is unlikely to be the original version from which
4Q175 was copied.
Devorah Dimant notes that both 4Q175 and 4Q379 22 ii contain scribal al-
terations and she contends that one cannot argue that 4Q379 was copied from
4Q175.53 This is in contrast to Hanan Eshel who asserts that 4Q379 was cop-
ied from 4Q175 and is an historical allusion.54 In an alternative position, Lutz
Doering states that due to the nature of 4Q175 as an anthologised collection it

51  Newsom, “379. 4QApocryphon of Joshuab,” DJD 22:281 and 238 citing Emanuel Tov, “The
Orthography and Language of the Hebrew Scrolls Found at Qumran and the Origin of
these Scrolls,” Textus 13 (1986): 31–57 (Hebrew). See also Kenneth Atkinson, A History of
the Hasmonean State: Josephus and Beyond (London: Bloomsbury, 2016).
52  Newsom, “379. 4QApocryphon of Joshuab,” DJD 22:80.
53  Devorah Dimant, “Between Sectarian and Non-Sectarian: The Case of the Apocryphon
of Judah,” in Reworking the Bible: Apocryphal and Related Texts at Qumran, ed. Esther G.
Chazon, Devorah Dimant and Ruth A. Clements, STDJ 58 (Leiden: Brill, 2005), 105–33,
129–33. So also Brent A. Strawn, “Excerpted ‘Non-Biblical’ Scrolls at Qumran? Background,
Analogies, Function,” in Qumran Studies: Approaches, New Questions, ed. Michael Thomas
Davis and Brent A. Strawn (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2007), 65–123, 75–76.
54  Hanan Eshel, “Historical Background of the Pesher Interpreting Joshua’s Curse on the
Builders of Jericho,” RevQ 15 (1991/92): 409–20; Eshel, “A Note on a Recently Published
Text: ‘The Joshua Apocryphon’,” in The Centrality of Jerusalem: Historical Perspectives, ed.
Marcel Poorthuis and Chana Safrai (Kampen: Kok Pharos, 1996), 89–93.
Strangers to the “ Biblical Scrolls ” 243

is more probable that the scribe’s model came from another source.55 In a simi-
lar vein, David Katzin argues that 4Q175 21–30 are not an import from 4Q379.56
Another view is taken by Ariel Feldman who proposes that 4Q175 quotes the
composition preserved in 4Q379, and that the work probably circulated in sev-
eral versions.57
From the literary perspective, there is a pattern that each quotation in 4Q175
begins alternately with a voice: first, the divine voice talking to Moses followed
by passages of a prophet speaking: the SP Exod 20:21b section opens with God
speaking to Moses. The Num 24:15–17 passage begins with the prophet Balaam
uttering his oracle; the Deut 33:8–11 pericope cites the death-bed blessing by
Moses to Levi, and the Apocryphon of Joshuab opens with Joshua completing
his prayer to God, and uttering his curse of the rebuilders of Jericho. Brooke
suggests that there is common formulaic structure linking the four passages in
4Q175 connected to the theme of an eschatological struggle, and reckoning.58
Patrick Skehan, Eugene Ulrich, and Judith Sanderson observed with refer-
ence to assigning the first passage of 4Q175 to Exodus, that the text follows
the biblical order: Exodus, Numbers, Deuteronomy, Joshua.59 Within that se-
quence, there is the theme of God communicating to and through the proph-
ets, Moses, Balaam and Joshua: God to Moses—Balaam’s voice—Moses’s
voice—Joshua’s voice. Feldman notes that all the passages are connected by
the use of the verb ‫קום‬, which is used in MT Josh 6.26, but not in the quotation
of that verse in 4Q379 22 ii 8. Nor does ‫ קום‬appear in the quotation of Josh 6:26,
as it appears in 4Q175 from the source common to 4Q379. The exegetical com-
mentary in 4Q379 22 ii 10 uses ‫ עמוד‬and ‫ ועמד‬as possible verbal parallels, which
are reproduced in 4Q175 24.60 Ulrich states that the MT “exhibits a secondary
form of Josh 6:26” with “additions” of ‫יקום‬, and, ‫לפני יהוה‬, and ‫את יריחו‬, so:

55  Lutz Doering, “Excerpted Texts in Second Temple Judaism: A Survey of the Evidence,” in
Selecta Colligere II, ed. Rosa Maria Piccione and Matthias Perkams (Alessandria: Edizione
dell’ Orso, 2005), 1–38, 30–31.
56  David Katzin, “The Use of Scripture in 4Q175,” DSD 20 (2013): 200–36. See also, Timothy
H. Lim, “The Psalms of Joshua (4Q379 frg. 22, col 2): A Reconsideration of Its Text,” JJS 44
(1993): 309–12.
57  Feldman, Rewritten Joshua Scrolls, 123.
58  Brooke, Exegesis at Qumran, 311–19.
59  Patrick W. Skehan, Eugene Ulrich, and Judith E. Sanderson, “22. 4QpaleoExodusm,”
in Qumran Cave 4.IV: Palaeo-Hebrew and Greek Biblical Manuscripts, DJD 9 (Oxford:
Clarendon, 1992; repr. with corrections 1995), 68.
60  Feldman, Rewritten Joshua Scrolls, 123, n. 399.
244 Jacobus

4Q175 22a (Josh 6:26b): ‫ארור ה(א)יש אשר יבנה את העיר הזות‬
MT Josh 6:26b: ‫ארור האיש לפני יהוה אשר יקום ובנה את העיר הזאת את יריחו‬

The verse also serves as commentary to the related proof-text MT Num 24:19b:
‫ והאביד שריד מעיר‬where the remnant of an unnamed city is also targeted for
annihilation.
Of additional interest, ‫ קום‬and ‫ עמד‬are used in poetic parallelism in CD 7:20
in a paraphrase of Num 24:17e intertwined with commentary on Num 24:17d
(see section on CD 7). Therefore, the MT version of Josh 6:26 which has the
addition of ‫ קום‬works better in poetry linguistically than the replicated source
that is found in 4Q175 and 4Q379. However, the version in 4Q175 and 4Q379 is
a better reading rhythmically than the MT. The shorter version of Josh 6:26b in
4Q379 and 4Q175 is more aurally poetic by being of the same syllabic length
as the second part of the verse, Josh 6:26b, whereas MT Josh 6:26b is almost
double the length of Josh 6:26c and does not read so well as a verse-pair.

4Q175 22b–23a (Josh 6:26c): ‫בבכרו ייסדנה ובצעירו יציב דלתיה‬

In summary of 4Q175, all four quotations have cross-manuscript connections

and share an exegetical formula tradition with the sectarian scrolls. The cross-
manuscript connections are: first quotation: (SP Exod 20:21) and the LXX with
an indirect connection to 4Q158; second quotation: (Num 24:15–17) with CD
7//4Q266 and 1QM 11, discussed below; third quotation (Deut 33:8–11) with
4Q174, LXX, and 4QDeuth; fourth quotation: 4Q379 with MT Josh 6:26. In that
sense 4Q175 behaves as a kind of scribal hub with spokes linked to other texts.
The thread of the second quotation is the focus of our textual cluster, but the
other quotations lead into other networks and “textual worlds,” too.

1QWar Scroll (1QM; 1Q33) 11:6b–7

The oracles of Balaam belong to the genre of the victory hymn in “Yahwistic”
poetry,61 although scholars variously suggest that Num 24:17–19 was used as
an eschatological battle hymn in the sectarian War Scroll,62 or rooted in his-
torical events. Jean Duhaime states that unlike the use of Num 24:17 in 4Q175
or CD 7:18–19 (see below), the message was not messianic, but “as forecast-

61  William F. Albright, “The Oracles of Balaam,” JBL 58 (1944): 207–33.

62  Text and translation: Jean Duhaime, “War Scroll,” PTSDSSP 2, 118–19; García Martínez and
Tigchelaar, DSSSE, 130–31.
Strangers to the “ Biblical Scrolls ” 245

ing an act of salvation that God himself will perform.”63 Brian Schultz argues
that the prayer was intended for the war against the “Kittim.”64 It is interesting
that 1QM 11:6–7 completes the extract Numbers 24:17cdef from Balaam’s oracle
in 4Q175, albeit not as it is preserved in the MT or LXX. The entire quotation in
1QM 11:6b–7 encompasses MT Num 24:17–19 in a different arrangement. Since
Num 24:15–19 is not preserved in the “biblical” scrolls, the term “rearranged” is
here understood to mean that the version of Balaam’s oracle deviates signifi-
cantly from the Masoretic Text, without drawing conclusions that the scribe
made deliberate changes from proto-MT-type Vorlagen.
It is likely, as shall be argued from a literary perspective, that the order of
verses in 1QM was an earlier version of Num 24:18–19 and that these were ex-
panded in the proto MT and LXX to reflect another composition that did not
survive.
The extract in the War Scroll that is similar to that preserved in 4Q175 lines
12b–13 at Num 24:17cdef includes the “star and sceptre” passage and continues
in an apparent “reordered” arrangement of poetic units known from MT Num
24:18–19. The poetic order in the War Scroll is accordingly referred to as “1QM
Num 24:18–19,” meaning that the sequence in the War Scroll is reversed com-
pared to the MT (see Table 1 below):

Table 1 1QM 11:6b–7 (1QM poetic units with the parallel poetic units in the MT/LXX in
brackets: Num 24:19a, 19b; 18a, 18c)

Line 6b to end of line

1QM Num 24:17c–f: A star has marched forth from Jacob. A sceptre (LXX:
“man”) rises (4Q175: “has arisen”; MT, LXX: “shall arise”) from Israel. It
shatters the [forehead-]temples of Moab. And destroys all the children
of Shet

Line 7 (1QM Num 18–19//MT/LXX Num 19–18 with divergences)

1QM 18a: One from Jacob shall have dominion (//MT 19a)
1QM 18b: He shall destroy the remnant of a city (//MT 19b)
1QM 19a: The enemy will become an possession ‫( ירשה‬//MT/LXX “Edom” 18a)
1QM 19b: and Israel performs valiantly ‫( עשה חיל‬//MT and LXX 18c)

63  Jean Duhaime, The War Texts, CQS 6 (London: T&T Clark), 104–5, 110–11.
64  Brian Schultz, Conquering the World: The War Scroll (1QM) Reconsidered, STDJ 76 (Leiden:
Brill, 2009), 397.
 246 Jacobus

If one adapts James Kugel’s method of analysing biblical poetry by categorising

thematic content, where A represents parallel verses on the same theme and
B represents contrasting verses, it may be seen that the MT/LXX Num 24:18–19
verse structure and 1QM 24:18–19 have different thematic arrangements. See
Table 2 below for a comparison between 1QM and MT/LXX following the ar-
rangement of poetic units in 1QM. The “heightening” form of parallelism in
Balaam’s fourth oracle in which there is a stepping-up of action from the first
poetic unit to the second, mirroring an ecstatic seizure,65 is clear in 1QM Num
24:18–19 but not so in the parallel poetic structure in the MT/LXX. It may be
argued that, therefore, 1QM Num 24:18–19 is a better reading.

Table 2 Comparison between 1QM Num 24:18–19 and MT/LXX

1QM Num 24:18–19 MT/LXX Num 24:19–18

1QM 18a: One from Jacob shall have dominion Num 24:19a: One from Jacob shall have
dominion
A A

1QM 18b: He shall destroy the remnant of a Num 24:19b: He will destroy the remnant from
city a city
B B

1QM 19a: The enemy will become a possession Num 24:18a: Edom will become a possession
B LXX 18a: And Edom will be an inheritance
Num 24:18b: And Seir, a possession of those
who destroy it
LXX:18b: And Esau, his enemy, will be an
inheritance
AA

1QM 19b: And Israel performs valiantly Num 24:18c: And Israel performs valiantly
A B

65  James L. Kugel, The Idea of Biblical Poetry: Parallelism and Its History (New Haven: Yale
University Press, 1981), 1–23; Robert Alter, The Art of Biblical Poetry, rev. ed. (New York:
Basic Books, 2011), 22.
Strangers to the “ Biblical Scrolls ” 247

1QM Num 24:19a does not begin with the toponym “Edom” that is preserved
in MT/LXX Num 24:18a, reading “The enemy,” instead. 1QM entirely omits the
poetic unit of MT Num 24:18b. Since MT Num 24:18a–18b both repeat the same
noun ‫ירשה‬, “possession,” as LXX 24:18a–18b duplicate the same noun, “inher-
itance,” in contravention of the rules of parallelism, it is possible that Num
24:18b in the MT and LXX are a gloss. The half-verses MT Num 24:18b beginning
with “Seir” and LXX Num 24:18b beginning with “Esau” are probably later inser-
tions that were forced into the poem as parallel half verses with Num 24:18a
where “the enemy” had been changed to “Esau” in order to emphasise the sym-
bolic name of the foe concerned.66 This resulted in one too many parallel lines
at the expense of structural symmetry, and the duplication of words in the
matching half-verses of MT/LXX Num 24:18b is jarring.67
The phrase “And Esau, his enemy” in LXX Num 24:18b suggests that the copy-
ist of the proto-Septuagint knew the same source as the scribe of 1QM, or that a
Hebrew text of the proto-Septuagint was known to the scribe of 1QM. Based on
the structural rules of poetic parallelism, there is a case for arguing that the ex-
cerpt of the fourth oracle in 1QM Num 24:18–19 is not rearranged from a proto-
MT textual witness. 1QM Num 24:18–19 has its own internal logic and rhythm.
See Table 3 below comparing MT/LXX Num 24: 18–19 and 1QM with parallels
in parenthesis, following the arrangement of the poetic units in the MT/LXX.
It may be seen that MT/LXX Num 24:18–19 would be expressed as ABAAB.
The arrangement for 1QM 24:18–19 takes the form of ABBA. 1QM Num 24:19b
as the final, ascendant, victorious accompanying half verse to 1QM Num 24:19a
reads better as a closing unit than MT Num 24:19b which is an abrupt ending.
However, the concluding half-verse in MT Num 24:19b arguably works better
if recited in sequence before the shorter composition of Josh 6:26 in 4Q175 22
(reflecting the shorter version in 4Q379 22 ii).
1QM Num 24:17cdef follows in the MT tradition of “sceptre” not the
Septuagint’s “man”; and “(forehead-) temples of Moab,” not the Septuagint’s
“chiefs of Moab.” It is likely, therefore, that here, like 4Q175, there may be a
mixture of sources that were also used in the early families of LXX and MT.
The question is whether Balaam’s fourth oracle in 1QM 11:7 was copied from
another composition that did not survive.

66  For the list of references and bibliography on the connection between Edom and Seir,
and Edom, and Esau, see New Interpreter’s Dictionary of the Bible (Nashville: Abingdon,
2006–2009), 2:189–91. See also Kipp Davis’s contribution to this volume.
67  See Alter, Art of Biblical Poetry, 1–29.
248 Jacobus

Table 3 Thematic Comparison between MT/LXX Num 24:18–19 and 1QM

MT/LXX Num 24:18–19 1QM Num 24:18–19

Num 24:18a: Edom will become a

possession
LXX 18a And Edom will be an inheritance
A

Num 24:18b: And Seir, a possession 1QM 18a: One from Jacob shall have
of those who destroy it dominion (//MT 19a)
A
LXX:18b: And Esau, his enemy, will be
an inheritance
B

Num 24:18c: And Israel performs 1QM 18b: He shall destroy the remnant
valiantly of a city (//MT 19b)
A B

Num 24:19a: One from Jacob shall 1QM 19a: The enemy will become a
have dominion possession (//MT and LXX 18ab changed)
A B

Num 24:19b: He will destroy the 1QM 19b: and Israel performs valiantly
remnant from a city (//MT and LXX 18c)
B A

The content of this section is introduced by the exegetical formula: “Thus you
taught us from ancient times, saying: ‫( ”כאשר הגדה לנו מאז לאמור‬1QM 11:5–6).
It follows the statement in 1QM 11:5b: “Neither our power nor the strength of
our hands have done valiantly (‫)עשה חיל‬, but by Your power and the strength
of your great valor (‫)חילכה‬.”68 This verse poetically echoes 1QM Num 24:19b:
“and Israel performs valiantly (‫)עשה חיל‬.”69

68  Translation, Martin Abegg, The Dead Sea Scrolls: A New Translation, 157.
69  Duhaime, The War Texts, 110–11.
Strangers to the “ Biblical Scrolls ” 249

A number of other features stand out. As well as the different arrange-

ment compared with the MT and the LXX this text continues the extract from
Balaam’s fourth oracle in 4Q175 which ends at Num 24:17d. The existence of
continuation texts is also attested in Song of Songs in the Dead Sea Scrolls.
Tov has argued that 4QCanticlesa (4Q106) and 4QCanticlesb (4Q107), both of
which are differently abbreviated versions of MT Song of Songs, have a connec-
tion although the two scrolls are written by different hands.
Song 4:8–6:11 is omitted in 4Q106 3 and is preserved in 4Q107 2 ii and 3. Song
3:6–8 is omitted in 4Q107 2 i and is partially represented in 4Q106 2, while
Song 4:7 is absent from the text in 4Q107 2 ii and occurs in 4Q106 3. Tov com-
ments: “different sections are thus lacking in 4QCanticlesa and 4QCanticlesb,
and to some extent the two scrolls supplement each other.”70
Unless the overlaps and completions of biblical texts between two abbre-
viated scrolls are taken as coincidental, it may be argued that Num 24:15–19
has also been partially preserved in two scrolls from Qumran: 1QM overlaps
and completes the citation of the fourth oracle in 4Q175. In addition, there is a
thematic link between 1QM 11:7b and 4Q175 22, the first line of the shorter Josh
6:26b referencing the destruction of an unnamed city. If this idea is accepted,
a performative connection between these manuscripts cannot be ruled out.

Damascus Documenta (CD 7 [CD-7])//4QDamascus Documenta

(4Q266)

The fourth oracle of Balaam is attested in another “non-biblical” text, the so-
called Amos-Numbers Midrash. More than standing as a biblical quotation
it is used in a semi-paraphrased form as an exegetical commentary to the
Amos quotations cited in Damascus Document a col. 7 [known as CD 7] 18b–
21a//4QDamascus Documenta (4QDa) (4Q266) 3 iii 20c–22.71

70  Emanuel Tov, “4Q106. 4QCanta,” DJD 16:195–98, 199–204; Tov, “4Q107. 4QCantb,” DJD
16:205–18; Tov, Hebrew Bible, Greek Bible and Qumran, 34. The texts’ overlaps are also sum-
marised in Brian Gault, “The Fragments of Canticles from Qumran: Implications and
Limitations for Interpretation,” RevQ 95 (2010): 351–71.
71  Text and translation, García Martínez and Tigchelaar, DSSSE, 560–61, 586–87. For the liter-
ary review, bibliography, discussions on the exegetical methodology, and eschatology, see
Géza G. Xeravits, King, Priest, Prophet: Positive Eschatological Protagonists of the Qumran
Library, STDJ 47 (Leiden: Brill, 2003), 38–47; George J. Brooke, “The Amos-Numbers
Midrash (CD 7, 13b–8,1a) and Messianic Expectation,” ZAW 397 (1980): 397–404.
250 Jacobus

The Amos “midrash” element is a composite of parts of Amos 5:26–27 in a

different arrangement to that in the MT, and it is the only witness to this text
at all in the Dead Sea Scrolls. The second Amos quotation is Amos 9:11, part of
which appears in Mur 88 viii 26–27, and agrees with the MT.72 The translation
below is followed by a discussion on ways that the Amos-Numbers Midrash
may be related to manuscripts with textual connections to it.

Translation of the Amos-Numbers Midrash in CD 7

Line 14 escaped to the land of the north. vacat. As it is said: “I will exile
(‫ ;והגליתי‬Amos 5:27a is substituted for Amos 5:26a according to the MT
sequence) the Sikkut73 of your king (‫)את סכות מלככם‬
Line 15 and the Kiyyun of your images (Amos 5:26bc worded as in the MT]
from the tents of Damascus (Amos 5:27b [variant])” vacat.74 The
Books of the Law/Torah (‫ )ספרי התורה‬are the Sukkat (‫)הם סוכת‬
Line 16 of the King (‫)המלך‬, as it said: (Amos 9:11) “I will cause to be raised
(‫ ;והקימותי‬so 4Q174 1–2 i 12b: ‫ ;והקימותי‬cf: MT ‫אקים‬, “I will raise up” and
Mur 88 viii 26] the fallen booth of David”75 vacat. The king [4Q266:
“The images”]
Line 17 is the assembly (‫;)הוא הקהל‬
and the Kiynaii of the images (‫ )וכיניי הצלמים‬Kiyyun of the images
(‫ ;וכיון הצלמים‬sic repeated with variant spelling).76 They are the Books
of the Prophets (‫)הם ספרי הנביאים‬

72  Józef T. Milik “88. Rouleau des Douze Prophètes,” in Les Grottes de Murabbaʿât, ed. Pierre
Benoit, Józef T. Milik, and Roland de Vaux, DJD 2.1 (Oxford: Clarendon, 1961), 188, pl. 58.
See online http://www.deadseascrolls.org.il/explore-the-archive/image/B-499714 (photo
taken in January 2014). All that has been preserved is ‫אקים את‬.
73  The Septuagint presupposes that this word refers to “booths” (sukkat, spelled defectively),
rather than “idols.” According to Andersen and Freedman “idols” in the MT is assumed
due to an artificial Masoretic vocalisation to create that interpretation of the noun. See
Francis I. Andersen and David N. Freedman, Amos: A New Translation and Commentary,
AB (New York: Doubleday, 1989), 533 (s.v. 26a. Sakkuth).
74  “Beyond Damascus” in the text reads: ‫מאהלי דמשק‬. García Martínez and Tigchelaar,
DSSSE, 561, translate “away from my tent to Damascus.” The MT Amos 5:27b reads ‫מהלאה‬
‫לדמשק‬, “beyond Damascus” (BDB, 229, s.v. ‫ ;הלאה‬DCH 2:544: “beyond,” “further”).
75  “I will establish,” or “re-erect” (Abegg, A New Translation, 58). This is a hiphil perfect with
a conversive vav. Cf. MT Amos 9:11, where the simple hiphil imperfect is used, ‫)אקים‬.
76  M T Amos 5:26c reads “your images,” ‫כיון צלמיכם‬, not “the images” of the exegetical text
(repeated). A correction has been made to the nomen regens of the construct (“Kiyyun”
which agrees with the MT from “Kiynaii” of the images), ‫וכיני הצלמים וכיון הצלמים‬, but
not to the possessive suffix of the nomen rectum (“the images” has not been corrected
to “your images” as it reads in the MT). It is noticeable from a scribal practices point of
Strangers to the “ Biblical Scrolls ” 251

Line 18 whose words Israel despised. vacat And the star is the Interpreter of
the Torah (‫)דורש התורה‬77
Line 19 who will come to Damascus. As it is written: “A star marches forth
from Jacob and a sceptre will arise ‫וקם‬78
Line 20 from Israel.” [Num 24:17cd] The sceptre is the prince of the whole
congregation ‫ נשיא כל העדה‬and in his rising ‫ ובעמדו‬he will destroy79
‫[ וקרקר‬Num 24:17e]
Line 21 all the children of Shet [Num 24:17f ]. Vacat

The quotation of Amos 5:26–27 omits MT Amos 5:26c: “Your star-god which
you made for yourselves,” although this colon appears to operate as a proof-
text in the “midrash” element: “And the star is the Interpreter of the Law

view that the first version of the construct phrase has not been deleted or corrected but
the scribe has carried on and written a second version adjacent to it on the line. Boyce
regards the correction as an example of dittography, see Mark Boyce, “The Poetry of the
Damascus Document” (PhD diss., University of Edinburgh, 1988), 246. Another explana-
tion could be that the scribe made the error to “Kiyyun” because he was conscious that
he was about to make an exegetical change to the biblical text (“the images” instead of
“your images”), so he was aware that he was not copying the text but replacing it with a
different text.
77  “Interpreter of the Law”: there is intertextuality here with the sectarian text 4Q174. Brooke,
Exegesis at Qumran, 200, argues that the Interpreter is the “Aaronic Priest Messiah.” See
also James C. VanderKam, “Messianism in the Scrolls,” in The Community of the Renewed
Covenant: The Notre Dame Symposium on the Dead Sea Scrolls, ed. Eugene Ulrich and
James C. VanderKam (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 1994), 217–18;
Collins, Star and Sceptre, 103–4.
78  The Damascus Documenta and the Masoretic Text, both medieval texts, are the only tex-
tual witnesses to this verse that has the verbal construction of the vav conversive +perfect,
creating the imperfect tense, a future action. This creates the meaning of “shall arise.” In
contrast, the tenses used in the Dead Sea Scrolls: 4Q175 9 (‫ויקום‬, imperfect with a con-
versive vav) and 1QM (‫קם‬, perfect) refer to completed actions, “has arisen” or “arises.”
According to Qimron, the conversive construction is unusual at Qumran, including in
biblical quotations; the simple imperfect is preferred. See Elisha Qimron, The Hebrew of
the Dead Sea Scrolls, HSS 29 (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1986), 73. Yet Abegg suggests that the
conversive form is not so uncommon. See Martin G. Abegg Jr., “The Linguistic Analysis of
the Dead Sea Scrolls: More Than Initially Meets the Eye,” in Rediscovering the Dead Sea
Scrolls, ed. Maxine L. Grossman (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010), 63–64. Syntax notwith-
standing, the meaning in the scrolls implies that the metaphorical figure in the oracle
may be anticipated in the present, or has already arrived, or is past, rather than coming
from the future. See also, Brooke, “E Pluribus Unum,” 113–14.
79  This citation supports the interpretation that this word is a verbal parallel to “shatter
(‫ )מחץ‬the brow of Moab” (Num 24:17e); the object is not contained in this paraphrase.
252 Jacobus

(Torah; ‫ )דורש התורה‬who will come from Damascus” (CD 7:18b–19//4Q266 3

iii 19b). The phrase, “the Interpreter of the Law” is also preserved in 4Q174 and
4Q177,80 the former with a related citation of Amos 9:11, a noticeable textual
overlap,81 and the latter without a citation of Amos 9:11.
The second proof-text to the omitted colon Amos 5:26c, is Num 24:17c linked
to “the Interpreter of the Law” by the connecting exegetical phrase, “As it is
written: ‘A star marches forth from Jacob (Num 24:17c) and a sceptre shall rise
from Israel (Num 24: 17d)’ ” (CD 7:19b). There then follows the interpretation to
Num 24:17d by citing Num 24:17ef in a summary form as both exegesis and a
proof-text.
There is another link to the use of ‫ קום‬in the proof-text Amos 9:11 (CD 7:16)
that is dependent on its use in Num 24:17d for effect. It serves as an interpreta-
tive verse to the “rearranged” colon of Am 5:27a–5:26bc (CD 7:14–15).82
The grammatical use of ‫ קום‬in the Amos 9:11 quotation of 4Q174 1–2 i 11b–13
and CD 7:19 is the same, ‫והקימותי‬, conforming to Qumran Scribal Practice (not
extant in 4Q266).83 It disagrees with the grammatical form in Mur 88 viii 27,
‫אקים‬, preserved in the MT.
It is of interest that the use of ‫ קום‬in Num 24:17d in CD 7:19 agrees with the MT
against 4Q175 and 1QM 11 (see note to quotation, below). Furthermore, the
paraphrase, “in his rising (‫( ”)ובעמדו‬CD 7:20c), interpreting ‫ וקם שבט‬of CD 7
Num 24:17e, uses the rules of synonymous parallelism by employing ‫ עמד‬as a
synonym for ‫קום‬.

80  4Q174 1–2 i 11; 4Q177 10–11 5; 4Q266 3 iii 19. See The Dead Sea Scrolls Concordance: The Non-
Biblical Texts from Qumran, ed. Martin G. Abegg, James E. Bowley, and Edward M. Cook,
in consultation with Emanuel Tov (Leiden: Brill, 2003), 1:200.
81  For example, Hanne von Weissenberg, “The Twelve Minor Prophets at Qumran and the
Canonical Process: Amos as a Case Study,” in The Hebrew Bible in the Light of the Dead
Sea Scrolls, ed. Nora Dávid, Armin Lange, Kristin De Troyer, and Shani Tzoref (Göttingen:
Vandenhoek & Ruprecht, 2012), 357–78 (esp. 372); George J. Brooke, “Controlling Intertexts
and Hierarchies of Echo in Two Thematic Eschatological Commentaries from Qumran,”
in Reading the Dead Sea Scrolls: Essays in Method, SBLEJL 39 (Atlanta: SBL Press, 2013),
85–97, 91–92: “This is a shared vocabulary that is indicative of a literary tradition. It does
not seem to be the case that the author of 4QEschatological Commentary A is alluding to
the Damascus Document; it is not a matter of literary dependence or influence. Rather
here are intertextual echoes that identify the literary tradition to which the author of
4QEschatological Commentary A belongs.”
82  Ulrich, Developmental Composition, 287, n. 11, refers to Amos 9:11–15 as a post-exilic “(un-
Amos-like)” redaction.
83  Tov, Textual Criticism of the Hebrew Bible, 2nd ed., 109–10.
Strangers to the “ Biblical Scrolls ” 253

Num 24: 15–19: Indirect Connections to Other Manuscripts

A non-linear cluster approach to studying texts from the Judean Desert sites
means considering an excerpted text’s relationship to related texts in other
manuscripts. One identifies clusters by taking parallel texts as a starting point,
and following their indirect textual links. In this way a cross-manuscript model
can be constructed that treats the “sectarian” texts surveyed here as textually
interactive. The “re-ordered” verses in comparison with their sequence in the
MT, pose an additional challenge. Below is a diagram of the text-cluster model
concerning the unique readings in “non-biblical” scrolls that are mainly unac-
counted for in the “biblical” scrolls and their cross-manuscript connections. It
is intended to be a visual aid concerning the minimum number of manuscripts
and texts that are related directly and indirectly to Num 24:15–19 (see Figure 1).
As is well-known 4Q174 1–2 i 11 is textually connected to 4Q177 10–11 5 by the
phrase “Interpreter of the Law,” 4Q174 also has a link to CD 7 by sharing a cita-
tion of Amos 9:11 (4Q174 1–2 i 12).84 The citation of Amos 9:11 in 4Q174 is con-
nected to a “rearranged” sequence of 2 Sam 7:11c, 12b, 13b–14a.
Of additional interest to this textual history of 4Q174 is that 4QPsx (formerly
4Q236, now 4Q98g 6//LXX Ps 89:23) is composited with a quotation from 2 Sam
7:10b–11a (4Q174 1–2 i 1), as identified by John Strugnell. Brooke suggested that
there may be some direct “liturgical association” between the possible indirect
quotations from 2 Sam 7:10 and Ps 89:23 in the fragmentary opening text of
4Q174 1 i 1–2.85 2 Sam 7:10–14 is not extant in the “biblical” scrolls and the text
from 4QPsx is a separate literary edition to the MT and LXX. It may be an early
form of Ps 89, or a preservation of one of its sources.86 In that sense, 2 Sam
7:10–14 with 4QPsx are “strangers to the ‘biblical’ scrolls,’ ” as is Num 24:15–19.

84  The citation of Amos 9:11 in 4Q174 is the same as that in Acts 15:16. See Brooke, Exegesis at
Qumran, 114, 210–11, and 302–9 for a discussion of the Amos-Numbers Midrash including
the citation of Amos 9:11 in relation to 4Q174.
85  Brooke, Exegesis at Qumran, 225, n. 36; Brooke, Exegesis at Qumran 8; for notes to restora-
tion of col. 1, line 1, see Brooke, ibid., 97–99; on 2 Sam 7:10–14 in 4Q174, see Brooke, ibid.,
86, 91, 97–99, 129–39, 149. See also, Campbell, Exegetical Texts, 33–44; Patrick W. Skehan,
Eugene Ulrich, and Peter W. Flint, “98g. 4QPsx,” in Qumran Cave 4.IX: Psalms to Chronicles,
ed. Eugene Ulrich et al., DJD 16 (Oxford: Clarendon, 2000), 163–67; Mika Pajunen, “4QPsx:
A Collective Interpretation of Psalm 89:20–38,” JBL 133 (2014): 479–95; Matthew W.
Mitchell, “Genre Disputes and Communal Accusatory Laments: Reflections on the Genre
of Psalm LXXXIX,” VT 55 (2005): 511–27.
86  Peter W. Flint, “A Form of Psalm 89 (4Q236 = 4QPs89),” PTSDSSP 4A, 40–43; Devorah
Dimant, “4QFlorilegium and the Idea of the Community as a Temple,” in History, Ideology
254 Jacobus

4Q158
4Q266//cd 7
mt Josh
6:26 Num 24:17
Am 9:11
Interpreter of the 4Q177
Law (Am 5.26-7 Interpreter
4Q175: composited and of the Law
“reordered’”
Proto-sp Exod 20:21; lxx Deut 18:19b
Num 24:15-17
4QDeuth: Deut 33:8-
4Q174
11//4Q174
4Q379 [composited 4QPsx 6;
‘reordering’ 2 Sam 7:10-14]
( Mur xii): Am 9:11
Interpreter of the
1QM xi 6b-7 Law//cd 7//4Q177
Num 24:17-19 4QDeuth: Deut 33:8-
(vv. 18-19 11//4Q175
“reordered and
reworded” with
minuses), lxx

Figure 1 Diagram of the text cluster directly and indirectly related to Num 24:15–19 in three
“non-biblical” scrolls: 4Q175, 1QM, 4Q266// CD 7, appearing as Num 24:15–17, 17–19,17,
respectively (in red). Arrows link Deut 33:8 in 4Q175 to 4Q174, which is also linked to
4Q266// CD 7 and to Mur XII by Amos 9:11 (in pink). 4Q177 is linked to 4Q174 and
to 4Q266// CD 7 by the phrase “Interpreter of the Law (in pink italics).” 4Q158 is only
linked to 4Q175, and MT Josh 6:26 is linked to 4Q175 and 4Q379. The black circles
indicate separate manuscripts and texts.

The leaves of the cluster with the darker outline contain the direct textual links
to Num 24:15–19, and the leaves with the thinner outline the indirect connec-
tion, that is, a connection from a directly linked text. These indirect links in-
clude 4Q158 and MT Josh 6:26 to 4Q175 (see Figure 1).
In addition to the diagram of the text cluster, Table 4 outlines the textual
intersections between the three texts containing the citation of Num 24:15–19
in 4Q175, 1QM, and CD 7//4Q266. The cluster also includes 4Q174 which has

and Bible Interpretation in the Dead Sea Scrolls (Tubingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2014), 269–88,
270 n. 6.
 Strangers to the “ Biblical Scrolls ” 255

textual commonalities with 4Q175 and CD 7. The quotations have been ar-
ranged to line up together.
All the compositions have the introductory formulas common to the
genre of exegetical texts. The table’s first row refers to the words preceding
the “as it is said” introductory phrase (which may include a commentary).
The second row is the introductory exegetical phrase itself (the “as it is said”
formula); the third row comprises the proof-text. The fourth row can con-
sist of a concluding commentary. Textual connections have been coloured,
italicised, and typed in boldface, so that it is possible to see a sketch of the
overlaps in the biblical text and the connecting commentaries before and
after the biblical citations.

Table 4 Textual intersections between 4Q175, 1QM, 4Q174, CD 7 and 4Q266.

4Q175 1QM 11:5–7 CD 7:18b–21a 4Q174 1–2 i CD 7:13b–15a CD 7:15b–18

11b–13

“The man who does “Your great valour” And the 2 Sam 7:11c, All who held The books of
not listen to my star is the 12b, 13b–14a fast escaped the Law are the
words which the Interpreter This refers to to the land of booths of the
prophet will speak of the Law the shoot of the north king
in my name, I shall who comes David who
require a reckoning to Damascus will arise
from him:” (SP Exod with the
20:21b/LXX Deut Interpreter
18:19b/4Q158) of the Law
(so 4Q177)

“So he uttered his “So have you told us As it is As it is As it says As it says

parable, saying”: in time past saying:” written written
(Num 24:15a)
 256 Jacobus

Table 4 Textual intersections between 4Q175, 1QM, 4Q174, CD 7 and 4Q266 (cont.)

4Q175 1QM 11:5–7 CD 7:18b–21a 4Q174 1–2 i CD 7:13b–15a CD 7:15b–18

11b–13

“Oracle of Balaam, “A star has marched “A star has “I will raise “I will exile “I will raise up
son of Beor and forth from Jacob. A marched up the fallen the booths the fallen booth
oracle of the man of sceptre rises from forth from booth of of your king of David”
penetrating eye, oracle Israel and shatters the Jacob; a David” and the (Am 9:11)
of him who listens to (forehead)-temples of sceptre will (Am 9:11) kiyyun of
the words of God and Moab and destroys the arise from your images
knows the knowledge all the sons of Shet. Israel” (Num from the
of the Most High who One from Jacob shall 24:17, so MT) tents of
sees the vision of have dominion. He will Damascus”
Shaddai, lying down destroy the remnant (Amos
and with an open eye. from a city. The 5:26–27
I see him but not now. enemy will become reordered
I behold him but not an possession. And compared
close up. A star has Israel does valiantly.” with MT)
marched forth from (Num 24–17–19
Jacob; a sceptre has reordered MT and
arisen from Israel LXX)
and shatters the
(forehead)-temples
of Moab and
destroys the all the
sons of Shet.
And about Levi he The sceptre This (refers The books of (4Q266 3 iii)
says: (Deut 33:8–11); is the prince to) the fallen the Law are The “king”
Apocryphon of of the whole booth of the booths of [4Q266: the
Joshuaa (4Q379 22 ii assembly David which the king images] is the
8–15) and when has fallen, congregation
he rises he which he will and the “kiyyun
will destroy raise up to of your images”
all the sons save Israel is the books of
of Shet the prophets
(Num 24:17f) whose words
Israel despised.
Strangers to the “ Biblical Scrolls ” 257

Conclusion

This contribution presents the case for a cross-manuscript taxonomy of bibli-

cal passages in “non-biblical” scrolls.87 Following the valuable work of George
Brooke on textual plurality and fluidity, it also argues that all biblical material
from the “non-biblical” scrolls should be included in reference works that col-
late texts from the so-called “biblical” scrolls from sites in the Judean Desert.
Many of these biblical extracts studied here are the only witnesses to the early
stages of biblical formation and in some cases they offer better readings to
those in the Masoretic Text or Septuagint.
Currently many modern scholars believe that the purpose of the “non-bib-
lical” scrolls was not to pass on scriptural text in the way that they define the
transmission process. However, all the biblical quotations used in this essay
from excerpted texts connected to Num 24:17–19 contain data that are not
only relevant to textual criticism but of interest to research on oral transmis-
sion and performance. By exploring interlocking textual clusters in the Dead
Sea Scrolls we can glimpse early biblical literature in different forms before
it became standardised, and further explore our ideas about ancient scribal
culture.

87  A useful type of model to consider might be that used in the project at Manchester and
Durham Universities from 2007–2011. See Alexander Samely, in collaboration with Philip
Alexander, Rocco Bernasconi, and Robert Hayward, Profiling Jewish Literature in Antiq-
uity: An Inventory from Second Temple Texts to the Talmud (Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 2013).
Deriving Negative Anthropology through Exegetical
Activity: The Hodayot as Case Study

Carol A. Newsom

One of the distinctive features of Second Temple literature is the emergence of

a variety of complex and often negative anthropologies that contrast sharply
with the more widespread assumptions about human nature in most of the
Hebrew Bible.1 Though these negative anthropologies are documented most
extensively in the Dead Sea Scrolls, they are not purely a Qumran sectarian
phenomenon but appear to have both pre-Essene roots and a pattern of in-
fluence that includes but is broader than Qumran sectarianism. Focusing on
the development of a negative connotation for the notion of “flesh” (bāśār),
Jörg Frey has cogently argued that speculations about human nature develop
in a variety of pre-Essene, late wisdom texts, notably 1Q/4QInstruction and
1Q/4QMysteries, and that traces of the influence of these texts and their an-
thropologies can be identified both at Qumran (notably in the Hodayot) and in
non-sectarian writings such as the Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs, as well
as in the letters of Paul.2 The Two Spirits Treatise found in some recensions of
the Qumran Community Rule is judged by many to be a pre-Essene wisdom
text appropriated by the sectarian movement. Its striking and complex dualis-
tic anthropology appears to have roots in Persian dualism, though reconceived
in distinctively Jewish ways. Although the particular formulation of a dualistic
spirit anthropology in the Two Spirits Teaching is unique, certain analogous
and perhaps related conceptions appear in texts such as the Testaments of the
Twelve Patriarchs and in the early Christian Shepherd of Hermas. Finally, a
significant number of texts in many genres from a variety of social contexts

1  It is with pleasure that I offer this essay in honor of George Brooke, whose work has been so
central to the study of the Dead Sea Scrolls and their relation to Jewish and Christian scrip-
ture. I wish to thank the faculty and students of Yeshiva University for their comments on an
earlier version of this paper, which I presented to them on October 15, 2015. In particular I
wish to thank Profs. Ari Mermelstein and Steven Fine for encouraging me to think more care-
fully about oral vs. scribal modes of intertextual allusion.
2  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 The Wisdom Texts from Qumran
and the Development of Sapiential Thought, ed. Charlotte Hempel, Armin Lange, and
Hermann Lichtenberger, BETL 159 (Leuven: Leuven University Press, 2002), 367–404.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ���7 | doi ��.��63/9789004344532_015

Deriving Negative Anthropology through Exegetical Activity 259

develop the notion of an “evil inclination” or an “evil heart,”3 a line of develop-

ment that leads to the Rabbinic conception of the yēṣer hārāʿ.
Although a full inquiry into the forces encouraging the development of such
novel views of human nature might delve into broad socio-cultural and even
political issues, I wish to focus on a narrower but no less important question
concerning the exegetical derivation and authorization of these claims. The
views about human nature expressed in any one of the texts mentioned above
not only differ significantly from those commonly assumed in the Hebrew
Bible. They also differ significantly from one another, even as there are indica-
tions that some are aware of and sometimes even borrow elements from oth-
ers. The hypothesis that I want to explore is that in these Second Temple texts
novel ideas about human nature are generated and made persuasive in large
part through exegetical activity. Texts that are already assumed to be authorita-
tive can be made to disclose additional information through accepted exegeti-
cal reading practices. The exegesis is not explicit in the text, but it leaves its
traces there. The question is whether or not we can “reverse engineer” the ex-
egetical process that lies behind the text. To a significant extent, I think we can.
The Hodayot make a particularly interesting test case, in part because they
contain the most extreme version of a negative anthropology among the Dead
Sea Scrolls. This perspective is represented in its most developed form in the
passages dubbed Niedrigkeitsdoxologien, passages that contrast human noth-
ingness with the glory of God (e.g., 5:30–34; 9:23–25; 20:27–31).4 But the nega-
tive anthropology is actually widely diffused throughout the two collections of
Community Psalms in the Hodayot.5 The negative imagery is overwhelmingly
associated with the mortal, material nature of human being, the most com-
mon negatively marked terms being dust, clay, and flesh, complemented by the
occasional reference to corpses, worms, and maggots. This being is character-
ized by immorality (sin, guilt, iniquity) and by impurity (most often niddāh).
The term niddāh (“menstrual impurity”) is used in an extended sense already
in the Bible (e.g., Ezek 36:17; Ezra 9:11) and in some places in the Hodayot (e.g.,
19:14; 21:36), but in the Hodayot it often appears with other sexualized or femi-
nized language (e.g., “fount of [menstrual] impurity” [māqôr hanniddāh, 9:24;
20:28; cf. Lev 20:18], “shameful nakedness” [ʿerwat qālôn, 5:32; 9:24; 20:28], “one

3  See, most recently, Ishay Rosen-Zvi, Demonic Desires: Yetzer Hara and the Problem of Evil in
Late Antiquity (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2011), 44–64.
4  This term was coined by Heinz-Wolfgang Kuhn, Enderwartung und gegenwärtiges Heil, SUNT
3 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1966), 26–29.
5  Small and occasional passages reflecting this negative anthropology also occur in the Teacher
Hymns but do not seem to be a standard element of them.
260 Newsom

born of woman” [yĕlûd ʾis̆sā̆ h, 5:31]), suggesting that the Hodayot somehow as-
sociate the negativity of the human condition in its fleshly mortality with the
impurity connected with the female body.6 Finally, the human condition is as-
sociated with limited or distorted understanding (e.g., error, without under-
standing). The cognitive and moral defects are also expressed in terms of the
“spirit” that characterizes humans.7
Strikingly, this wretched condition does not simply characterize a wicked
subset of human beings. Nor is it the result of some sort of “fall” or the conse-
quence of some sort of angelic mischief (pace Hultgren8). Rather this flawed
being represents the fundamental human condition. And the human is that
way because God created it to be that way (most explicitly, 20:27–28). Though
this may seem shocking, the wretchedness of the basic human condition serves
to underscore the miraculousness of God’s transformation of a select group of
persons who are then suited for fellowship with the angels. Needless to say,
this is a view of human nature and destiny that cannot simply be read off of
biblical narratives and teachings. It is an extraordinarily different account. And
yet, in the Qumran community such a claim could not be persuasive unless
it were grounded in authoritative texts. Indeed, it acquires its own authority
and persuasiveness by being shown to be the hidden meaning of the texts that
outsiders have not discerned but that has been made accessible to those trans-
formed by God.
Even within literature from Qumran, the radical view that is articulated in
the Hodayot is distinctive. Outside of the Hodayot from Caves 1 and 4, similar
passages occur only in the Maskil’s hymn in cols. 9–10 of the Community Rule,
a composition generally recognized as itself a hodayah-type psalm, and in one
passage in the Songs of the Maskil (4Q511 28–29 4–6), which uses similar an-
thropological expressions. Since the Songs of the Maskil appear to “sample”
other sectarian texts as well, such as the Sabbath Songs and the Berakot, it is

6  Hermann Lichtenberger, Studien zum Menschenbild in Texten der Qumrangemeinde, SUNT

15 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1980), 84–85; Nicholas A. Meyer, Adam’s Dust and
Adam’s Glory in the Hodayot and the Letters of Paul: Rethinking Anthropology and Theology,
SNT 168 (Leiden: Brill, 2016), 33–34.
7  I discuss the role of the spirit more fully in “Predestination and Moral Agency in the
Hodayot,” in The Religious Worldviews Reflected in the Dead Sea Scrolls: Proceedings of the
Fourteenth International Symposium of the Orion Center for the Study of the Dead Sea Scrolls
and Associated Literature, 28–30 May, 2013, ed. Menahem Kister, Michael Segal, and Ruth A.
Clements, STDJ (Leiden: Brill, forthcoming).
8  Stephen J. Hultgren, From the Damascus Covenant to the Covenant of the Community: Literary,
Historical, and Theological Studies in the Dead Sea Scrolls, STDJ 66 (Leiden: Brill, 2007), 436–
37. See the effective refutation by Meyer, Adam’s Dust, 38.
Deriving Negative Anthropology through Exegetical Activity 261

likely a case of borrowing from the Hodayot, not a source for it. Thus I take
the Hodayot, the Maskil hymn from 1QS, and the passage in the Songs of the
Maskil as reflecting one anthropological conception found in a closely related
group of texts, distinct from the anthropologies found in other sectarian and
non-sectarian texts in the Dead Sea Scrolls. That is not to say that the Hodayot
are ignorant of these other traditions. The Hodayot do, apparently, appropri-
ate some expressions from 1Q/4QInstruction, notably “spirit of flesh,” but the
anthropology that each text develops is quite different. Similarly 1QHa 9:17–21
appears to reflect the predestinarian language and concepts of the Two Spirits
Teaching, but does not use its dualistic anthropology.9
Correlated with the distinctiveness of the nature of the anthropology in
the Hodayot is the profile of the intertexts that it uses for exegesis. For exam-
ple, both the Two Spirits Treatise and 1Q/4Q Instruction make use of Gen 1
for anthropological speculations, though in different ways. The Hodayot do
not.10 Similarly, though the use of the phrase concerning the inclination of
the thoughts of humankind in Gen 6:5 and 8:21 can be found in numerous
texts (e.g., the Plea for Deliverance [11QPsa], the Prayer of Levi [Aramaic Levi
Document], Barkhi Nafshi, and the Damascus Document), the Hodayot make
extensive use of the term yēṣer but very rarely in the sense of “inclination” and
never clearly in the sense of an inherent moral inclination toward evil.11 By con-
trast, the Hodayot make a critical and strategic use of anthropological passages
from Job, notably the negative anthropologies of Eliphaz and Bildad, but other
passages as well. And yet, so far as I have been able to determine, no other text
at Qumran or elsewhere draws upon Job in constructing an anthropological

9  Armin Lange, Weisheit und Prädestination: Weisheitliche Urordung und Prädestination in

den Textfunden von Qumran, STDJ 18 (Leiden: Brill, 1995), 220–22.
10  The most explicit allusion in the Two Spirits Treatise occurs in 1QS 3:17–18 (whwʾh brʾ
ʾnwš lmmšlt tbl), though the phrase “all the glory of Adam” (kwl kbwd ʾdm) in 4:23 prob-
ably also alludes to Gen 1:26–28. More broadly, however, the language of Gen 1 is invoked
through the use of dense citation of its vocabulary in certain portions of the composition
(see Carol Newsom, The Self as Symbolic Space, STDJ 52 [Leiden: Brill, 2004], 86–87; cf.
Samuel D. Giere, A New Glimpse of Day One, BZNW 172 [Berlin: de Gruyter, 2009], 160–65).
Anthropology, angelology, and cosmology are all to be understood in relation to the fun-
damental binaries of light and darkness. Although the anthropology of 1Q/4QInstruction
remains debated, 4Q417 1 i 16–18 clearly constructs its anthropological speculation on the
basis of a combination of Gen 1 and 2–3 (see Matthew J. Goff, 4Q Instruction, WLAW 2
[Atlanta: SBL Press, 2013], 162–68).
11  Of the 42 occurrences of the noun in the Hodayot only two might possibly refer to a fixed
evil disposition in humans (13:8 and 19:23), and these are equally subject to different in-
terpretations. See further discussion below.
262 Newsom

reflection.12 Thus, even though authors of texts may be aware of other com-
positions and even borrow certain concepts and phrases from them, each ap-
pears to develop a distinctive anthropology in part by exegetical activity based
on a different configuration of texts. Even when they do use some of the same
biblical texts (such as Gen 2–3), the way these are combined with other texts,
what we might call the exegetical recipe, is different. Thus one needs to look
for a self-conscious and disciplined exegetical practice behind each of these
compositions, not a general “shopping basket” approach to conceptions and
terminology.
Attempting to discern an implicit exegetical basis for expressions in a text
raises methodological issues. How does one “reverse engineer” the process?
Clearly, the first step is to establish patterns of intertextuality on the basis of
the most obvious cases. Once one has demonstrated the interest of the Hodayot
in a particular text, then the appearance of other less distinctive expressions
from that text may be more plausibly considered as part of the intertextual
engagement. As will become apparent, in the Hodayot the critical exegetical
work appears to be done by juxtaposing texts on the basis of words shared in
common and then by importing the valence of one text into the other. This is
a common practice in Second Temple Judaism, evident in many diverse texts.
While the clearest examples of such a practice should be sufficient to indicate
the intention of the author to direct the reader’s attention to the intertextual
connection, it should be remembered that the author’s intentions do not fi-
nally control how readers read texts. Once one has established “what kind of
game it is,” some readers will be more adept and some less at making relevant
connections, including some that authors might not have intended. Modern
critical readers, too, may recognize a more or less developed network of allu-
sions. Though a measure of subjective judgment is necessarily involved, the
goal is to recover, insofar as possible, the exegetical practices of the commu-
nity. We want to figure out the rules of the game in order to perceive the good
plays and the strategies they embody.

The Data

Since the overarching issue for investigation is the presence of negative anthro-
pology in the Hodayot, the first step is to assemble the data through a content

12  4Q267 (4QDb) 1 5 uses the phrase “dust and ashes,” though in a broken context. 4Q 301
(4QMystc?) 4 3 preserves the words “what is ash[. . .,” though it is not clear this is an allu-
sion to Job. See also Sir 17:32; 19:9; 40:3.
Deriving Negative Anthropology through Exegetical Activity 263

or theme analysis.13 In this analysis the text is carefully read, and all examples
of negative anthropology are identified and listed.14
As suggested briefly above, the term “dust” (ʿāpār) occurs with the greatest
frequency, some 35 times. Its close synonym “clay” (ḥēmar) occurs 17 times,
with “dirt” (ʾădāmāh) 1 time. “Flesh” (bāśār), which is the animate form of this
material being, appears 22 times. Seven passages employ a developed image of
the human as a piece of pottery, mixed with clay or dust and water or spittle.
Moreover, apart from one instance in a broken context, 21 or 22 of the 30 oc-
currences of the word yēṣer in the Community Hymns have the sense of “a
thing shaped,” “a vessel,” rather than the meaning “inclination” or “purpose”
and clearly belong to the image of the human as pottery. This trope is thus
at the center of the negative anthropology of the Hodayot. The term “spirit”
also figures prominently as an anthropological term in the Hodayot, most
often in a neutral sense, referring to the human self and its various disposi-
tions. But it also occurs in expressions of negative anthropology (7 times), and
in statements referring to the positive transformation of the speaker through
God’s action.15

Methodology: Identifying Intertextuality

Since intertextuality can refer to a variety of things, from intentional allusions

that an author expects will be recognized by the reader to the use of words that
generally evoke the “already spoken,” it is important to specify what aspect of
the phenomenon one is examining and what counts as evidence for identifying
it. What I am interested in exploring is a form of allusion. The most sustained
recent reflection on criteria for identifying allusions in Hodayot texts is that of

13  These techniques are common in qualitative social science and are closely related to prac-
tices of textual analysis in the humanities. The social sciences, however, have been more
self-conscious in describing the methods involved, and scholars in the humanities can
benefit from these methodological studies. See, e.g., Gerry W. Ryan and H. Russel Bernard,
“Techniques to Identify Themes,” Field Methods 15 (2003): 85–109; Ryan and Bernard,
“Data Management and Analysis,” in Handbook of Qualitative Research, ed. Norman K.
Denzin and Yvonna S. Lincoln, 2nd ed. (London: Sage, 2011), 769–802.
14  Ideally, this stage of the research is carried out independently by several researchers who
then compare results. In this case, I performed my own analysis and asked my research as-
sistant, Justin Pannkuk, to do an independent analysis. In addition, we consulted a variety
of published studies on the topic that give lists of terms and phrases identified as negative
anthropology.
15  See footnote 6 above.
264 Newsom

Julie Hughes, in a dissertation supervised by the honoree of this volume. She

defines an allusion as “a reference which is recognized by a reader as refer-
ring to a textual source, knowledge of which contributes to the meaning for
the reader.”16 The category of “reader” requires some clarification. Obviously,
in a scholarly analysis, the actual reader is the scholar. My intent, however, is
to attempt to identify what appear to be cultural practices of intertextuality
encoded in the literature of the Hodayot and to read as much as possible ac-
cording to the norms of the text itself. This is obviously an intuitive process but
not an arbitrary one, as it is possible to articulate what the text seems to expect
as competency of its readers.
According to Hughes, verbal similarities are a necessary, though not always
sufficient criterion for identifying an allusion. Hughes attempts to make this
criterion more precise by identifying markers of allusion:

(1a) A correspondence with a hapax legomenon in the Hebrew Bible

(including any variant readings found in Qumran biblical texts).
(1b) A group of words which stand in a similar syntactical relationship
in both passages and occur in this combination in only one identifiable
scripture passage (e.g., Isa 9:6 “wonderful counselor . . . mighty/might”).
(1c) A more commonly occurring phrase which nonetheless has simi-
larities of meaning or context with one identifiable scripture passage.
This would include the case where other more certain allusions to this
particular scriptural passage or book have been identified within the
poem. . . .
(1d) In the case of (1b) or (1c) the requirement of “one identifiable scrip-
tural passage” may exceptionally be stretched to include a group of pas-
sages if a case can be made for some exegetical or other relationship
between them, which would enable them to be viewed as an entity.17

Hughes’s criteria provide objective standards that are nevertheless flexible

enough to cover a variety of possible uses of allusion.

Identifying Allusions and Exegetical Activity in the Hodayot

The trope of the human as a pottery vessel naturally leads one to look at the
creation story in Gen 2–3. But do the Hodayot simply refer to a common

16  Julie A. Hughes, Scriptural Allusions and Exegesis in the Hodayot, STDJ 59 (Leiden: Brill,
2006), 52.
17  Hughes, Scriptural Allusions, 53.
Deriving Negative Anthropology through Exegetical Activity 265

conception? Or is there an actual intertextual allusion? Hughes’s criterion

concerning words that stand in a distinctive syntactical relation allows one
to identify as a key intertext Gen 3:19. The relevant part reads: ʿad šubkā ʾel-
hāʾădāmāh kî mimmennāh luqqāḥtā; kî-ʿāpār ʾattāh wĕ-ʾel-ʿāpār tāšûb. Ten dis-
tinctive allusions to this verse occur in the second collection of Community
Hymns (18:6, 14; 20:27, 29–30 [2×], 34; 22:8, 30; 23:24, 29). This clear allusion
gives further weight to seeing other connections with Gen 2–3 that are less ex-
plicit. The noun yēṣer, meaning “vessel,” “thing shaped,” is used only one time
as a metaphor for human being in the Hebrew Bible (Isa 29:16, “Should what
is made say of the one who made it, ‘He didn’t make me,’ or should the pot
[yēṣer] say to its potter, ‘He didn’t understand?”). Moreover, the noun does not
occur with this meaning in other Qumran literature, except in the Hodayot
and the related passage in Songs of the Sage (4Q511 28–29 3).18 In the Hodayot
its use and prominence is likely derived from the presence of the verb yāṣar in
Gen 2:7, facilitated perhaps by comparison with Isa 29:16. The very prominence
of the term “dust” (ʿāpār), both used absolutely and in the construct phrase
“vessel of dust” points to Gen 2–3, since only there and in Ps 103:14 is the term
used to refer to the material composition of humans. Ps 103:14, which may itself
be an allusion to Gen 2:7, is likely another key intertext for the Hodayot. It ap-
pears to play with the vocabulary of Gen 2:7 as it explains the basis for God’s
compassion toward humans: “for he knows how we are formed (yiṣrēnû); he
is mindful that we are dust (ʿāpār).” Even though the noun yēṣer there more
likely refers to the process of formation than the product, the word play in Ps
103:14 facilitates the formation of the notion of the “vessel of dust.” To an actual
potter, of course, the expression “vessel of dust” would seem odd, since it is not
dust/dirt per se that one uses but dirt that has particular properties; one uses
clay (ḥōmer; in Qumran Hebrew ḥēmer). Thus, the prophetic texts that use the
general trope of the human as pottery (ḥōmer) and God as the potter (yôṣēr),
such as Jer 18:3–6 and Isa 45:9, are also drawn into the intertextual web. That
a systematic collocation of biblical texts relevant to the conception stands be-
hind the Hodayot’s discourse is suggested by the intertextual allusion to the
rather obscure passage in Job 33:6. There Elihu expresses his common status
with Job by saying “I, too, was pinched off from clay (mēḥōmer qōraṣtî),” a use
of the pual or qal passive that occurs only in this passage. The phrase is echoed
twice in the Hodayot (18:8; 20:28–29) and once in the related Maskil’s psalm
(1QS 11:22).

18  The term in 4Q299 appears to be a verb, not a noun, contra the Qumran concordance.
Martin G. Abegg, Jr. with James E. Bowley and Edward M. Cook, The Dead Sea Scrolls
Concordance: Volume One: The Non-Biblical Texts from Qumran (Leiden: Brill, 2003), 319.
266 Newsom

Intertextuality with known scriptural texts is not the only source for the more
graphic imagery of the human as pottery vessel that one finds in the Hodayot.
Other distinctive phrases may be drawn from texts no longer extant or be free
elaborations on the idea of humans as pottery constructed by the authors of
the Hodayot themselves. The frequent description of the person as “a structure
of dust, kneaded with water” (5:32), “a heap of dust, kneaded [with water]”
(21:30), and “a vessel of clay, kneaded with water” (9:23; also 11:24–25; 21:10–11;
similarly 1QS 11:21) use forms of the root gābal in its Mishnaic sense of “to mix”
or “knead,” as in making bread dough or clay for pottery. As Jonas Greenfield
notes, a commonly repeated Midrash employs this trope and this term in re-
ferring to the creation of humans: “In the first hour (of 1 Tishre, which was the
sixth day of creation) God thought of him (man), in the second He took coun-
sel with the attending angels, in the third He gathered his dust, in the fourth
He kneaded him, in the fifth He shaped him, in the sixth He made him a lifeless
being, in the seventh He inspired into him a soul” (Lev. Rab. 21:1).19
And so it is used here—with one important exception. Both the rabbinic
midrash and all of the biblical passages that I have cited so far that describe
human creation as analogous to the making of pottery do so without any claim
that human materiality is evidence of disgusting sinfulness and impurity. At
most, it signifies frailty and human limitation. How, then, does the author of
the Hodayot read this tradition in a way that recruits all of these neutral im-
ages into such negatively marked assertions about humans? Initially, it seemed
that Ps 103:14 might play a critical role. Was the author of the Hodayot reading
Ps 103:14 as making a connection not just with Gen 2:7 but also with 6:5 and
8:21, with its negative use of yēṣer as a moral inclination judged to be radically
defective? While it is certainly possible that such an intertextual play is at work
in Ps 103:14, the Hodayot makes little or no use of it, even though the notion of
a reified bad yēṣer was a rather well-known notion at that time.20

19  Jonas C. Greenfield, “The Root ‘GBL’ in Mishnaic Hebrew and in the Hymnic Literature
from Qumran,” RevQ 2 (1960): 157–58.
20  The Community Hymns do use the term to refer to “the yēṣer of every spirit” (7:26), a pos-
sibly predeterministic usage, implying some good and some bad spirits. Similarly, they
refer to the bad yēṣer of the wicked (21:29, 30). In one case in 19:23 (“and trouble was not
hidden from my eyes when I knew the yiṣrê of humans”) the term might possibly refer to
the notion of general human tendencies toward evil, but the following phrase suggests it
may instead simply refer to mortality (“and I un[derstood] to what mortals return”). In
the Teacher Hymns it can refer to an individual’s bad impulses (13:8), especially that of
the wicked (15:6), and to general intentions, whether good or bad (15:16, 19). Possibly the
phrase “vessel/inclination” of flesh” (yēṣer bāśār) in 24:6 is analogous to the phrase “spirit
Deriving Negative Anthropology through Exegetical Activity 267

It appears then that exegetical linchpins for the transposition of the value of
the biblical references are the negative anthropologies that occur in the book
of Job.21 To establish this point, one must demonstrate explicit intertextual ref-
erences to Job in the Hodayot. Four terms or words meet the criteria. The most
distinctive is the phrase “born of woman”(yĕlûd ʾiššāh), which occurs three
times in 1QHa (5:31; 21:9–10; 23:13–14) and once in the generically similar Psalm
of the Maskil (1QS 11:20). In the Bible this phrase occurs only in Job 14:1, 15:14,
and 25:4. Although the phrase on its own does not have a negative meaning,
signifying only a mortal being, the contexts in Job are all negative. In Job 15:14
and 25:4 the phrase occurs at the beginning of the characterization of humans
as guilty and abhorrent before God, and in 14:1 it occurs in a passage that
observes that one cannot produce “a clean thing out of an unclean one,” that
is, a human being. The semantic field of uncleanness is significant, since
vocabulary of ritual/moral uncleanness and of disgust (the negative counter-
part to holiness and sanctity) figure prominently in the negative anthropology
of the Hodayot. Indeed, one of the distinctive features of the anthropology of
the Hodayot is the use of pollution terminology associated with female sexu-
ality (see below).22 It may well be that the occurrence in Job of the phrase
“born of woman” in proximity to the semantic field of uncleanness facilitates
this development.
The second distinctive phrase shared between Job and the Hodayot is “dust
and ashes.” This phrase occurs in Job 30:9; 42:6, and otherwise only in Gen 18:27
in the Hebrew Bible. It occurs in the Hodayot in 18:7; 20:30 in contexts stressing
human incapacity. Apart from these occurrences there is a likely occurrence in
4QŠirb (4Q511) 126 2 and in 4QDb (4Q267) 1 5 (=4Q266 1a-b 22–23), though both
in broken contexts. The rareness of the occurrence of both “born of woman”
and “dust and ashes” in Qumran literature and, indeed, in other Second Temple
literature, suggests that they were not common idioms but were invoked with
a sense of intertextual allusion. Moreover, even if they were idioms, the dense
and sophisticated practice of intertextuality in the Hodayot would suggest that
the expressions are used with the expectation that readers and hearers would
recognize the loci of their occurrences in biblical texts.

of flesh,” though the context is broken. Had the authors of the Hodayot wishes to exploit
Gen 6:5 and 8:21, one would expect clearer intertextual allusions.
21  Frey, “Flesh and Spirit,” 398, notes but does not elaborate on the role of Job 4:17–21; 14:1–4;
and 15:14–16 in the anthropology of the Hodayot.
22  Lichtenberger, Studien zum Menschenbild, 84–85; Meyer, Adam’s Dust, 33–34, 47–53.
268 Newsom

Perhaps the most unexpected but distinctive intertextual allusion to Job is

the phrase “pinched off from clay” mentioned above. It occurs in 1QHa 18:6,
20:27, and the related 1QS 11:22. In the Bible it occurs only in Elihu’s speech in
Job 33:6. In that context Elihu does not intend anything negative by the phrase,
using it instead simply to establish a common humanity between himself and
Job. But the fact that this distinctive expression is picked up by the Hodayot
suggests that the book of Job had been studied for the topic of human cre-
ation and human nature, and that its various phrases might be interpreted in
light of one another, so that the negative anthropologies could be read even
into those phrases that were not in their own contexts negative. The picture
becomes even more clear when one examines the only other occurrence of
this phrase in literature from Qumran, 4QŠirb (4Q511) 28–29 4. There, in an
extended Niedrigkeitsdoxologie, the speaker describes himself as “pinched off
[from clay].” In the immediately preceding line the passage alludes to Eliphaz’s
statement from Job 4:19. Eliphaz had referred to people as “those who dwell
in houses of clay, whose foundation is in the dust.” In the Songs of the Maskil
the speaker refers to “my foundation of dust” (sōd ʿăpārî). Thus the passage in
4QŠirb brings together Eliphaz’s negative image with Elihu’s neutral one and
casts both as part of a description of a humanity that is guilty and disgusting in
its very created nature.
In fact, it is the ability of Job to establish verbal links that makes it such
an important exegetical tool. As noted above, anthropological passages in the
Bible using the term “dust” are limited to Genesis; those using “clay” are used
in the prophets. Only in Job does poetic parallelism use them synonymous-
ly, in 4:19; 10:9; 30:9 (also 27:16, in a non anthropological context). Thus through
verbal association the Joban passages link the relevant Genesis passages with
those in the prophets. Similarly, Job 10:9 and 34:15 use versions of the phrase
“return to the dust” (šûb + ʿāpār), gesturing to Gen 3:19.
What I want to suggest is that, giving the associative exegetical practice
of linking verses that share common words and expressions, the anthropo-
logical passages in the book of Job appear to be a kind of exegetical key to
other anthropological expressions in the Hebrew Bible. Not only do these pas-
sages from Job serve as a kind of concordance to draw together a number of
passages from Genesis, the prophets, and the psalms. They also provide the
strongly negative valence that can then serve as the means of reinterpreting
the other passages in a negative light.
It is significant that in Job the distinctly negative anthropology is most ex-
plicit in those passages that make a direct ontological contrast between the na-
ture of God and the nature of humans. In all three of the key passages, Eliphaz
Deriving Negative Anthropology through Exegetical Activity 269

and Bildad use a “great chain of being” trope that argues by comparison from
the greater to the lesser, from God to angels/luminaries to humans:

If he cannot trust his own servants

And accuses his angels of error,
How much less those who dwell in houses of clay,
whose foundation is in the dust . . . . (4:18–19)
He puts no trust in his holy ones;
the heavens are not innocent in his sight;
What then of one who is abhorrent and foul,
a person who drinks iniquity like water. (15:15–16)
Even the moon is not bright,
And the stars are not pure in His sight.
How much less a mortal, a worm,
a human being, a maggot. (25:5–6)

In the Hodayot of the Community, as in these passages from Job, the emphasis
is less on the contrast between the righteous and the wicked than between
God and wretched humanity. Though other biblical texts may gently allude
to the gulf between God and humanity for purposes of humble expression or
justification of divine compassion, only in Job is it used to qualify humans as
morally loathsome and impure.
The Hodayot are distinctive even within Qumran literature in associating
human creaturely existence as such with impurity and sin. Although it is dif-
ficult to pin down the precise exegetical process, it seems clear that the link is
made with the notion of birth from the woman, whose body is associated with
sexual impurity. As Jonathan Klawans has demonstrated, at Qumran “ritual and
moral impurity were melded into a single conception of defilement.”23 The clear
anchor point for the connection in the Hodayot is the phrase “born of woman,”
unique to Job and used 3 times in the Hodayot and once in 1QS 11. Though the
phrase itself simply refers to the finitude of all humanity, its occurrences in
Job (14:1; 15:14; 25:4) all introduce passages in which the human is described as
“unclean” (ṭāmēʾ), “abhorrent” (nitʿāb), “foul” (neʾĕlaḥ), and “guilty” (lōʾ zakkû).
Moreover, Job makes other references to birth from the female body that provide
links to creation accounts. The first is in 1:21 where Job says “Naked I came from
my mother’s womb; and naked I shall return there.” Here, of course the parallel

23  Jonathan Klawans, Impurity and Sin in Ancient Judaism (New York: Oxford University
Press, 2000), 90.
270 Newsom

between the female body and the “earth’s body” is implied, and the verb
“to return” establishes a potential connection with Gen 3:19. Job 10:8–15 details
the formation of the human as fetus, using the poetic pair of dust and clay to
describe a being who is then watched and judged by God for its inevitable sin-
fulness. Possibly other intertexts besides Job are in play as well, such as Ps 51:7,
which associates sinfulness as existing since gestation in the mother’s womb.
The Hodayot’s preferred terms for the womb are “crucible” (kûr) and, par-
ticularly, “source” (māqôr). In the three instances in which māqôr refers to
the womb (5:32; 9:25; 20:28), it occurs in the phrase māqôr niddāh (“source of
menstrual impurity”) and in two of these (5:32; 20:28) it is paralleled with the
phrase “shameful nakedness” (ʿerwat qālôn), which establishes a likely connec-
tion with Lev 20:18, prohibiting sexual relations with a menstruating woman,
a sexual sin that produces moral defilement. In that text the terms ʿerwāh and
māqôr occur, though dām rather than niddāh is used to refer to menstrua-
tion. The words niddāh and ʿerwāh are found together in v. 21, however.
The account of the exegetical development of the negative anthropology
of the Hodayot that I have given here focuses on the key nexus between the
Joban and Genesis texts, facilitated by other intertexts that provide conceptual
bridges. A different nexus could be explored concerning the flesh and spirit
terms used in the Hodayot anthropology. These are exegetically developed
largely from Genesis, with Gen 6:3 playing the critical role. This negative an-
thropology is linked to the Genesis/Job concepts through the synonymity of
flesh with clay and dust as representations of human physicality and mortal-
ity (see, e.g., Job 10:9–12). Spirit terminology has a somewhat different role to
play in the Hodayot, however, in that it is also the imagistic basis for the con-
ception of how this miserable human creature can be transformed. Through
exegetical linkages with Ezekiel 36 and 37, the transformation of the speaker
of the Hodayot is understood as a second creation, as I discuss in another con-
text.24 Thus for the Hodayot all humans are created in the fashion that Genesis
describes. That creation produces beings who are morally abhorrent, impure,
and characterized by sin and intellectual incapacity. But God elects to perform
a second creation on a select number of humans, imbuing them with his own
spirit in a manner that transforms them and fits them for a destiny of glory
with the angels.

24  See Newsom, “Predestination and Moral Agency.”

Deriving Negative Anthropology through Exegetical Activity 271

The Exegetical Practice

Even if one can identify the exegetical basis for the construction of a nega-
tive anthropology in the Hodayot, is it possible to deduce anything about the
practice by which it might have been created? If one simply reads a passage
from the Hodayot, the allusions to different biblical texts occur thickly but in
various sequences. For example:

As for me, from dust [you] took [me (Gen 3:19), and from clay] I was
pinched off ( Job 33:6), as a source of pollution and shameful nakedness
(Lev 20:18?), a heap of dust and a thing kneaded [with water (~Gen 2:7), a
council of magg]ots, a dwelling of darkness. And there is a return to dust
(Gen 3:19; Job 10:9; 34:15) for the vessel of clay (~Jer 18:3–6; Isa 29:16; 45:9)
at the time of [your] anger [. . .] dust returns to that from which it was
taken (Gen 3:19). What can dust and ashes (Job 30:19; 42:6; Gen 18:27) reply
[concerning your judgment? . . .] (1QHa 20:17–30).

Furthermore, different instances of the Niedrigkeitsdoxologien make different

combinations, and various phrases of negative anthropology are scattered in
other contexts throughout the Hodayot. What are the mental and communal
practices that enable compositions such as this, with their complex and ex-
egetically sophisticated patterns of intertextuality? One might think either in
terms of oral poetic practices or scribal practices. Within the Qumran move-
ment, of course, these are likely complementary rather than alternative modes
of producing new knowledge. The Hodayot themselves are likely oral compo-
sitions, as various poetic features suggest (e.g., the penchant for parallelism,
list structures, repeated topoi). Given the educational practices of Jewish
antiquity, memorization of significant portions of scriptural texts and other
literature can be assumed for those who were well-formed members of the
community.25 Thus it may be that an individual speaker’s memory functions
as a kind of concordance, connecting relevant passages that are then worked
into the poetic composition even as it is produced. Others, recognizing what
the speaker was doing, might—perhaps even in a spirit of competitiveness—
not only take up the speaker’s intertextual allusions but add to them in other

25  David Carr, Writing on the Tablet of the Heart: Origins of Scripture and Literature (New
York: Oxford University Press, 2005), 134–36; Karel van der Toorn, Scribal Culture and the
Making of the Hebrew Bible (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2007), 186–87;
Jonathan G. Campbell, The Use of Scripture in the Damascus Document 108, 19–20, BZAW
228 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1995), 176–77.
272 Newsom

compositions, until a body of claims about anthropology was constructed

through the oral composition process itself. This model would be not only
a rather decentralized one, but also one in which the poetic process itself,
more than an intentional exegetical investigation, becomes the primary force
behind the development.
Alternatively, one might think of a more communal and intentional process,
such as that referred to in 1QS 6:6–8, which stipulates that in every community
of at least ten, one of the community is always engaged in study of the Torah
(dôreš battôrāh) and that the community together recites from the communi-
ty’s scrolls, studies the law, and blesses together (liqrôʾ bassēper wĕlidrôš mišpāṭ
ûlbārēk bĕyaḥad) for a third of each night. Though we do not know what such
a process would have entailed, it might well have been a context for the inten-
tional searching of the scriptures with the intent to explore various topics of
concern to the community through the process of considering together differ-
ent scriptural passages on a similar topic. The results of such a process would
then constitute an agreed upon body of knowledge in the community that
might be drawn upon in the oral composition of Hodayot. What that model
does not explain, however, is why the exegetical configuration that constructs
the negative anthropology of the Hodayot appears to be limited to this type
of composition and texts closely related to it poetically. Thus the model of an
almost playfully generated, oral performative intertextuality might have more
to commend it. This particular “game” would be one played in hodayah compo-
sition and would not be triggered by other types of composition or discourse.
One alternative remains to be considered, one that focuses more on scribal
rather than oral practices. For a long time New Testament scholars have pos-
tulated the practice of compiling biblical excerpta among Second Temple
Jews and early Christians.26 Early Christian writings, notably 1 Clement and
Barnabas, contain thematic collections of biblical texts on peace and piety,
good works, love, and humility, as well as on Christ’s passion and the fulfill-
ment of prophecy. Timothy Lim has argued that the chains of scriptural quota-
tions found in Paul’s letters (e.g., Rom 3:10–18; 9:25–29; 11:33–36; 15:9–12, 11–13,
15–21; 11:8–19; 12:19–20; Gal 4:27–30; 1 Cor 3:19–20; 2 Cor 9:9–10) may similarly be
based on collections of biblical excerpts. As he observes, “one of the features
of this postulate of biblical excerpta is diversity of format and theme. They
were written on single or multiple sheets, rather than on a codex or book, but

26  Edwin Hatch, Essays in Biblical Greek (Oxford: Clarendon, 1889), 203.
Deriving Negative Anthropology through Exegetical Activity 273

in any case they must have been short enough to serve as handy collections.”27
Christopher Stanley made a similar argument about Paul and argued that
other Hellenistic writers, such as Philo, Plutarch, Longinus, and Strabo seem
also to have made use of excerpt collections either that they made themselves
from their reading or that came to them as pre-existing collections.28
Most of the evidence is inferential, since excerpt collections would have
been working documents, not compositions intended for long preservation—
though they might have had some circulation among writers interested in
similar topics. One such text, however, is preserved from Qumran, the single
sheet of leather known as 4QTestimonia (4Q175), which contains a sequence
of four scriptural citations (Exod 20:21b; Num 24:15–17; Deut 33:8–11; and
4QApocryphon of Joshua) with neither introduction nor interpretive comment.
All four passages concern or were known to have been interpreted to concern
eschatological figures. Although this is the only extant exemplar of a scriptural
excerpt collection, scholars have also posited that similar collections may lie
behind the thematic pesharim composed at Qumran, such as 4QFlorilegium
(4Q174), 4QCatenae A-B (4Q177, 182), and the similar 4QTanhumim (4Q176).29
These texts differ, of course, from the Hodayot, in that they explicitly inter-
pret scriptural passages in order to authorize a claim, whereas the Hodayot
implicitly allude to scriptural passages in order to establish a novel claim about
human moral nature. Thus, while it is not impossible to envision a series of
excerpta on the topic of creation and anthropology that stands behind the
distinctive anthropology of the Hodayot, one again runs into the difficulty of
accounting for why such a document would only influence this type of com-
position and not leave its mark more broadly on Qumran literature, if it were
known and studied in the community.

Concluding Remarks

In the end the model of the Hodayot’s distinctive anthropology as an emer-

gent property of the practice of oral composition itself in whatever context

27  Timothy H. Lim, Pesharim, Companion to the Qumran Scrolls 3 (London, New York:
Sheffield Academic, 2002), 47.
28  Christopher Stanley, Paul and the Language of Scripture: Citation Technique in the Pauline
Epistles and Contemporary Literature (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992),
74–79, 341.
29  See Lim, Pesharim, 47.
274 Newsom

the Hodayot were performed is perhaps the most likely scenario. Reflecting
on the question of the modes of intertextual practice, as well the identification
of intertextual allusions, may provide an important complement to our efforts
to understand the ways in which new ideas emerged and developed within
Qumran and similar religious movements. In the case of the Hodayot these
practices resulted in the development of a distinctively negative anthropology
grounded in the key intertextual interaction of Gen 2–3 with passages from
Job, and elaborated through the inclusion of additional linked intertexts.
 Part 4
Texts, Scribes, and Textual Growth

∵
The Tefillin from the Judean Desert and the Textual
Criticism of the Hebrew Bible

Emanuel Tov

Introduction*

In the description of the textual witnesses of the Hebrew Bible tefillin are a
stepchild, also in my own writings,1 since they are treated as idiosyncratic
biblical texts. However, in actual fact they are ordinary biblical texts, partial,
but regular, since the textual data in the tefillin were copied from larger con-
texts that provide as good evidence of the Bible text as as any other fragment
from the Judean Desert.2
In this brief study I wish to mend this situation by suggesting that the texts
included in the tefillin should be taken as evidence for the biblical text. This as-
sumption is supported by the fact that the different types of text contained in
the tefillin correspond with the text types found in regular biblical manuscripts.
The tefillin found in the Judean Desert3 allow us to examine differences
between Jewish groups in the areas of religious practice and the use of the

* This brief study is dedicated with appreciation to George Brooke, a dear friend whom I have
always admired because of the wide range and originality of his scholarship. George himself
has contributed a valuable study to the issue discussed here (see n. 5).
1  See my Textual Criticism of the Hebrew Bible, 3rd rev. ed. (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2012), 107–10.
2  The number of the tefillin and mezuzot is traditionally not included with that of the biblical
fragments which does not provide a good picture of the Scripture fragments. For example,
they are presented separately in my own listings in Revised Lists of the Texts from the Judaean
Desert (Leiden: Brill, 2010), although they can easily be added to the number of biblical man-
uscripts since they are listed in an appendix (131–32). Likewise, they are not included in the
edition of Eugene Ulrich, The Biblical Qumran Scrolls: Transcriptions and Textual Variants,
VTSup 134 (Leiden, Boston: Brill, 2010). This omission does not allow us to review the textual
relations between the texts in Ulrich’s apparatus and the tefillin so that the complete picture
is not available to the reader. The only sources that treat the tefillin and mezuzot on an par
with the other biblical fragments are the computer module of M. Abegg within Accordance
and the database of Donald W. Parry and Andrew C. Skinner, Dead Sea Scrolls Electronic
Library: Biblical Texts (Leiden: Brill, 2015).
3  The tefillin have been published in these sources: Dominique Barthélemy in Dominique
Barthélemy and Józef T. Milik, Qumran Cave 1, DJD 1 (Oxford: Clarendon, 1955), 72–76; Maurice
Baillet in Maurice Baillet et al., Les ‘petites grottes’ de Qumrân, DJD 3, 3a (Oxford: Clarendon,
1962), 149–57; Karl G. Kuhn, “Phylakterien aus Höhle 4 von Qumran,” AHAW (1957), 5–31; Józef
T. Milik, in Pierre Benoit et al., Les grottes de Murabba‘ât, DJD 2, 2a (Oxford: Clarendon, 1961),

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ���7 | doi ��.��63/9789004344532_016

278 Tov

biblical text, the latter visible in content differences and spelling systems. The
religious practice pertains to the employment of different passages included
in the various tefillin found in both the Qumran and Judean Desert sites.4 The
biblical text used in the various tefillin was copied from several sources that
were written in different orthography styles, and furthermore, the scribes of
the tefillin had their own spelling preferences. These internal differences be-
tween the tefillin sometimes shed light not only on the relations between the
texts from Qumran and those from the Judean Desert sites, but also on internal
differences within the Qumran texts themselves.
Much research has been carried out in the past on the tefillin,5 whose impor-
tance goes beyond practical and religious aspects. I myself have stressed their
importance for the study of orthography, and I use this opportunity in order to
correct and fine-tune earlier statements and to develop new ideas.6 I now real-
ize that in the Qumran tefillin we do not witness the two Scripture traditions

80–85; Milik, DJD 3:178; Milik, in Roland de Vaux and Józef T. Milik, Qumrân grotte 4.II: I:
Archéologie, II: Tefillin, mezuzot et targums (4Q128–4Q157), DJD 6 (Oxford: Clarendon, 1977),
33–79; Matthew Morgenstern and Michael Segal, in James H. Charlesworth et al., in consulta-
tion with James VanderKam and Monica Brady, Miscellaneous Texts from the Judaean Desert,
DJD 38 (Oxford: Clarendon, 2000), 183–91; Yohanan Aharoni, “Expedition B,” in The Judean
Desert Caves: Archaeological Survey 1960 (Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1961), 19–33,
31–32, and plate 15; Yigael Yadin, Tefillin (Phylacteries) from Qumran (XQ Phyl 1–4) (Jerusalem:
IES and Shrine of the Book, 1969). For corrections on Yadin, see Maurice Baillet, “Nouveaux
phylactères de Qumran (X Q Phyl 1–4) à propos d’une édition récente,” RevQ 7 (1970): 403–15.
4  I use the term “Judean Desert” sites for all the sites in the Judean Desert with the exclusion
of Qumran. This term is used for the sake of convenience and is imprecise because Qumran
itself is also located in the Judean Desert. Compositions named “X” are also ascribed to the
Judean Desert sites although they could have derived from Qumran.
5  For some studies, see Yonatan Adler, “Identifying Sectarian Characteristics in the Phylacteries
from Qumran,” RevQ 23 (2007): 79–92; George J. Brooke, “Deuteronomy 5–6 in the Phylacteries
from Qumran Cave 4,” in Emanuel: Studies in Hebrew Bible, Septuagint, and Dead Sea Scrolls
in Honor of Emanuel Tov, ed. Shalom M. Paul et al., VTSup 94 (Leiden: Brill, 2003), 57–70;
Yehudah B. Cohn, Tangled Up in Text: Tefillin and the Ancient World, BJS 361 (Providence, RI:
Brown University, 2008); David Nakman, “The Contents and Order of the Biblical Sections
in the Tefillin from Qumran and Rabbinic Halakhah: Similarity, Difference, and Some
Historical Conclusions,” Cathedra 112 (2004): 19–44 (Hebrew); David Rothstein, “From Bible
to Murabbaʿat: Studies in the Literary, Textual, and Scribal Features of Phylacteries and
Mezuzot in Ancient Israel and Early Judaism” (PhD diss., University of California, 1992);
Jeffrey H. Tigay, “tpylyn,” in Encyclopaedia Biblica (Jerusalem: Bialik Institute, 1982), 8:883–95
(Hebrew). The following valuable study appeared after the completion of my manuscript:
Jonathan Adler, “The Distribution of Tefillin Finds among the Judean Desert Caves,” in
The Caves of Qumran: Proceedings of the International Conference, Lugano 2014, ed. Marcello
Fidanzio, STDJ 118 (Leiden: Brill, 2017), 161–73.
6  Criticism against my earlier views was voiced by Adler, “Identifying,” 85.
The Tefillin from the Judean Desert and the Textual Criticism 279

that I identified in the past, the proto-Masoretic system and the Qumran Scribal
Practice,7 but the proto-Masoretic tefillin texts and another group. This group
is now defined as the popular text shared by SP and the LXX, partially written
in the QSP orthography, partially written without any specific spelling system.
The new analysis enables us to integrate the new data on the tefillin in the
general description of the development of the text of the Pentateuch.

Choice of Passages in the Tefillin

Any analysis of the tefillin starts with the choice of the Scripture passages. This
choice should be analyzed on the basis of the four passages (indicated in bold
in Table 1) that are prescribed in rabbinic literature:8

1. Exod 13:1–10 ‫קדש לי כל בכור‬

2. Exod 13:11–16 ‫והיה כי יביאך ה׳ אל ארץ הכנעני‬
3. Deut 6:4–9 ‫שמע ישראל‬
4. Deut 11:13–21 ‫והיה אם שמע תשמעו אל מצותי‬

These passages are prescribed on the basis of the following Scripture passages
in which the command of the totaphot is mentioned:

1. Exod 13:9 ‫והיה לך לאות על ידך ולזכרון בין עיניך‬

2. Exod 13:16 ‫והיה לאות על ידכה ולטוטפות בין עיניך‬
3. Deut 6:8 ‫וקשרתם לאות על ידך והיו לטטפת בין עיניך‬
4. Deut 11:18 ‫וקשרתם אתם לאות על ידכם והיו לטוטפת בין עיניכם‬

In addition to the four prescribed passages, five passages are included in many
tefillin found in Qumran (1Q-8Q and XQ), preserved in full or in part (indicated
in regular font, not in bold, in Table 1). Most of these non-required passages
are longer than the passages prescribed by the rabbis. Four of these pas-
sages precede the prescribed passages mentioned above, but they do not
always appear before them in the tefillin, although it is difficult to make
precise statements because of their fragmentary preservation. One of the

7  See my study “Tefillin of Different Origin from Qumran?” in A Light for Jacob: Studies in the
Bible and the Dead Sea Scrolls in Memory of Jacob Shalom Licht, ed. Yair Hoffman and Frank H.
Polak (Jerusalem, Tel Aviv: Bialik Institute, Chaim Rosenberg School of Jewish Studies, 1997),
44*–54*; Tov, Textual Criticism, 218.
8  For the complete evidence, see b. Menaḥ. 34a–37b, 42b–43b (esp. 34b) and Mas. Tep. 9.
280 Tov

passages (5) is included for two reasons: it leads up to the required passage 3
and contains the Decalogue. Another one is parallel to the Decalogue (9). The
Decalogue is thus included twice in a non-required passage. One long passage
(7), Deuteronomy 32, is unrelated to the required passages:

5. Deut 5:1–6:3 (Decalogue)9 together with the passages leading up to the

required passage 3 (Deut 6:4–9).
6. Deut 10:12–11:12 ‫ועתה ישראל מה ה׳ אלהיך שאל מעמך‬, including the pas-
sage leading up to the required passage 4 (Deut 11:13–21).
7. Deuteronomy 32, a stand-alone long unit containing the Song of
Moses.10
8. Exod 12:43–51 leading up to the required passage 1 (Exod 13:1–10).
9. Exodus 20, parallel to passage 5, both containing the Decalogue.

In short, the position of passages 5–9 with regard to the required passages 1–4 is:

5 precedes 3
6 precedes 4
7 a stand-alone passage
8 precedes 1
9 parallel to 5

Textual Patterns: Textual Profiles and Spelling Patterns

The tefillin differ from one another with regard to the biblical passages in-
cluded, as described above, as well as with regard to their textual profiles and
spelling patterns.11 In order to evaluate this situation, we must first review the
textual profiles and spelling patterns that were current when the tefillin were

9  It is relevant to quote here the general discussion in y. Ber. 1, 3c on the basis of which
the inclusion of the Decalogue in the tefillin may, by extension, be ascribed to the minim
(“sectarians,” “heretics”): “The Decalogue should be read every day. Why does one not read
it <now>? Because of the claim of the minim, that they will not say, ‘These only were given
to Moses at Sinai’.”
10  See the discussion of the inclusion of this passage in tefillin by Cohn, Tangled Up in Text,
75–77.
11  It is important to make this distinction that has not been made in the past. In my own
study “Tefillin of Different Origin” I identified a group of proto-MT tefillin and tefillin that
are written in the Qumran Scribal Practice. That distinction remains correct, but it does
not suffice since the textual profile of these two types of tefillin needs to be analyzed as
well, something that has not been done in the past.
The Tefillin from the Judean Desert and the Textual Criticism 281

written in the last two centuries before the common era and the first two cen-
turies of the common era.12

a. Textual Profiles in the Dead Sea Scrolls in General

α. Proto-Masoretic texts. These ancient texts belonging to the MT family from
the Judean Desert sites are virtually identical with the medieval MT texts.13
They differ from codex Leningrad B19A by up to 2% of their content, to the
same degree as some of the medieval texts differ from one another. Well-
preserved texts in this group are MasPsa (end of the 1st century BCE), MasLevb
(30 BCE–30 CE), 5/6HevPs (50–68 CE), and the Minor Prophets scroll from
Murabbaʿat (c. 115 CE).
β. MT-like texts. These are the Qumran texts, not the Judean Desert texts, that
previously were named proto-Masoretic, but in actual fact they differ by up to
10% of their content from codex L, in minutiae, mainly orthography.14 They
belong to the circle of MT, not to SP or any other text or textual family. Typical
MT-like texts are 1QIsab, 4QJera and 4QJerc.
γ. The SP and the pre-Samaritan texts. The Samaritans of later generations did
not practice the customs of tefillin, but the tefillin texts of other communities
could still be based on early texts that we name pre-Samaritan. In other words,
if we find that a tefillin found in the Judean Desert has close connections with
the SP, it does not follow that the tefillin itself is Samaritan.
δ. The LXX and its forerunners.
γ-δ The group of SP and the pre-Samaritan texts share general characteristics as
well as many details with the LXX to the extent that it is often thought that they
are derived from a common source. These shared readings are very relevant to
the topic under investigation. Presumably from the early MT group one large
LXX-SP Palestinian group branched off, from which again further branches and
twigs developed. The first textual tradition that branched off from the common
LXX–SP source was the Vorlage of the LXX, reflecting early as well as late ele-
ments. At a later stage, the SP group branched off from that common source.15

12  See Tov, Textual Criticism, 107–10.

13  For a description see my Textual Criticism, 29–31.
14  For a description see Textual Criticism, 31–35.
15  For details, see my studies “The Shared Tradition of the Septuagint and the Samaritan
Pentateuch,” in Die Septuaginta: Orte und Intentionen, ed. Siegfried Kreuzer et al., WUNT
361 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2016), 277–93, and “2.1. Textual History of the Pentateuch,”
in Textual History of the Bible Online: Volume 1, ed. Armin Lange and Emanuel Tov (Leiden:
Brill, 2015) and an earlier formulation in “Textual Developments in the Torah,” in Textual
Criticism of the Hebrew Bible: Qumran, Septuagint: Collected Writings: Volume 3, VTSup 167
(Leiden: Brill, 2015), 239–49.
282 Tov

All these sources, the LXX, the SP group, as well as their common base, should
be considered as reflecting a popular text at home in ancient Israel.

b. Spelling Patterns (General)

α. MT spelling
β. Qumran Scribal Practice (QSP). The Qumran scribal system of orthogra-
phy, morphology and scribal practices displays a very free approach in ortho-
graphical and linguistic features, including some dialectical features, as well
as scribal idiosyncrasies.16 Non-biblical, as well as biblical, texts were written
in this style, which is too inconsistent to be named a “system.” A long text that
displays most of the features of the QSP is 1QIsaa, while several smaller biblical
manuscripts are written in the same style (see n. 16).

c. Textual and Orthographic Profiles (Tefillin)

The tefillin found in the Judean Desert may be divided into five groups, primar-
ily on the basis of their content and secondarily of their spelling practices. In
matters of content I use the term “independent” or “non-aligned” for readings
that do not agree with any known source. In matters of spelling I use the term
“conservative” as opposed to the greatly innovative QSP style, when the conser-
vative style is not identical with MT, but close to it. I distinguish between the
following five groups represented in Table 1:

i. proto-MT content profile together with Masoretic spelling (three

tefillin in the first group: two from the Judean Desert and one from
Qumran);17
ii. MT-like content profile together with Masoretic spelling (one
specimen);18
iii–iv. 
S P-LXX-independent content profile19 together with MT or conserva-
tive spelling (group iii that includes the required passages, four from
Qumran and one from the Judean Desert,20 and group iv that includes

16  For an analysis, see my Textual Criticism, 100–105; “Dead Sea Scrolls: Orthography and
Scribal Practices,” in Encyclopedia of Hebrew Language and Linguistics, ed. Geoffrey Khan
et al. (Leiden: Brill, 2013), 669–73, as well as in Encyclopedia of Hebrew Language and
Linguistics Online. In the Pentateuch the QSP is reflected in the following scrolls: 1QDeuta,
4QExodb, 4QNumb, 4QDeutj,k1,k2,m, 4QRPa,b,c (4Q158, 364, 365).
17  MurPhyl, 34SePhyl, 8QPhyl I.
18  XHevSe Phyl.
19  The characterization “SP-LXX-independent” designates that this text shows proximity to
both SP and the LXX, and also has a number of readings not known from other sources.
This text shows no proximity to MT.
20  4QPhyl C; D-E-F; R; S; XQPhyl 4.
 The Tefillin from the Judean Desert and the Textual Criticism 283

also non-required passages, three from Qumran, three from the Judean
Desert, with a possible seventh one21);
v. SP-LXX-independent content profile together with QSP spelling (a fifth
group consisting of eight tefillin from Qumran).22

Three tefillin (4Q147, 4Q148, 5Q8), listed at the bottom of the Table, are insuf-
ficiently known.

Table 1 Five groups of textual and orthographic profiles23

Text No. Publication Name Textual Ortho Content Shape Opistho­ Inter- Break
Profile graph linear
add

Group i
Mur 4 a DJD II MurPhyl proto-MT MT 1243 ragged – – –
34Se 1 Aharonia 34SePhyl proto-MT MT 12 straight – – –
8Q3 a DJD III 8QPhyl I proto-MT MT 1243 straight – – –

Group ii
XHev/Se 5 a DJD XXXVIII XHevSe MT-like MT 1234 straight – – –
Phylb

Group iii
4Q130 a DJD VI 4QPhyl C SP-G-ind MT 1234 straight – –
4Q131–33 DJD VI 4QPhyl SP-G-ind MTc 412 straight + × –
D-E-F ragged
4Q145 DJD VI 4QPhyl R SP-G-ind conserv 1 straight × – ×
4Q146 DJD VI 4QPhyl S SP-G-ind MT 4 straight × – ×
XQ4 h Yadin XQPhyl 4d SP-G-ind – 1 straight × no evid

21  8QPhyl II, III, IV; XQPhyl 1, 2, 3, and possibly also 1QPhyl.
22  4QPhyl A, B, G-H-I, J-K, L-N, O, P, Q.
23  This table records the known tefillin from the Judean Desert. In 2016 a few small tefillin
have not yet been completely opened or transcribed: 4Q147, 148; 5Q8. The distinction in
the second column between a(rm) and h(ead) tefillin is indicated for the sake of formality
only, since it plays no role in the analysis of the data. The details in the last four columns
refer to the details analyzed in Appendix 1: the shape of the leather (ragged/straight), the
writing on the two sides (opisthograph) recorded as “×” or “–”), the presence of interlinear
additions, and the breaking up of words at the ends of lines.
 284 Tov

Table 1 Five groups of textual and orthographic profiles (cont.)

Text No. Publication Name Textual Ortho Content Shape Opistho­ Inter- Break
Profile graph linear
add

Group iv
8Q3 a DJD III 8QPhyl II SP-G-ind conserve 36 straight – – –
8Q3 a DJD III 8QPhyl III ind conserv 6859 straight – × –
8Q3 a DJD III 8QPhyl IV ind conserv 6 straight – – –
XQ1 h Yadinf XQPhyl 1 SP-G-ind conserv 816 straight – – ×
XQ2 h Yadin XQPhyl 2 SP-G-ind conserv 53 straight – – –
XQ3 h Yadin XQPhyl 3 SP-G-ind conserv 52 straight – – ×
1Q13 a DJD I 1QPhyl ? conserv 5641 ragged – – –

Group v
4Q128 a DJD VI 4QPhyl A SP-G-ind QSP 5 6 4 8 1 ragged × ×
(= Kuhng c)
4Q129 a DJD VI 4QPhyl B SP-G-ind QSP 531 ragged × ×
(= Kuhn b)
4Q134–36 h DJD VI 4QPhyl G-H SP-G-ind QSP? 5248 ragged × × ×
(= Kuhn d)-I
4Q137–38 h DJD VI 4QPhyl J-K SP-G-ind QSP 56 ragged + × × ×
(= Kuhn a) straight
4Q139–41 h DJD VI 4QPhyl L-N SP-G-ind QSP 5 8 3 7 1 straight × × ×
4Q142 DJD VI 4QPhyl O SP-G-ind QSP? 53 ragged × ×
4Q143 DJD VI 4QPhyl P SP-G-ind QSP? 64 ragged × ×

4Q144 DJD VI 4QPhyl Q SP-G-ind QSP? 641 ragged ×

4Q147 DJD VI 4QPhyl T – –
4Q148 DJD VI 4QPhyl U – ×
5Q8 DJD III 5QPhyl – –

a Publication: Yohanan Aharoni, “Expedition B.”

b This text is very close to being a proto-MT text, until the smallest details in orthography,
but its scribe made several negligent mistakes.
c With the exception of ‫ יביאכה‬in Exod 13:11 this text follows the orthography of MT.
d The text of this tefillin has not been deciphered in all its fragments. See Yadin, Tefillin, 30.
e With the exception of one word, ‫מצוא‬.
f See Yadin, Tefillin.
g For references to Kuhn in this table, see n. 1 above.
The Tefillin from the Judean Desert and the Textual Criticism 285

The Passages Included and Their Sequence

There is a correlation between the contents of the tefillin and their textual-or-
thographic-linguistic profile. In simple terms this correlation can be expressed
as follows: the tefillin that contain only required passages display a proto-MT
text (group i), an MT-like text (group ii), or an SP-LXX-independent text (group
iii), while those that contain a mixture of required and non-required texts
(group iv) reflect a more complex reality (see below). The following two lists
record (a) the tefillin containing the required passages (1–4) and (b) those also
containing non-required passages (5–9).
a. Nine tefillin include only the required rabbinic passages, although because
of their fragmentary status no certainty can be arrived at in several instances:

Group i
MurPhyl proto-MT 1243
34SePhyl proto-MT 12
8QPhyl I proto-MT 1243

Group ii
XHevSe Phyl MT-like 1234

Group iii
4QPhyl C SP-LXX-independent 1234
4QPhyl D-E-F SP-LXX-independent 412
4QPhyl R SP-LXX-independent 1
4QPhyl S SP-LXX-independent 4
XQPhyl 4 SP-LXX-independent 1

While in four instances the fragmentary evidence covers only two passages, in
four other tefillin more information is known about the passages included.
In all these cases, the evidence suits the rabbinic instructions (sequence: 1 2
3 4 [Rashi’s system] or the sequence 1 2 4 3 [system of Rabenu Tam]), twice
in tefillin from the Judean Desert sites (MurPhyl; XHevSe Phyl) and twice in
tefillin from Qumran (4QPhyl C; 8QPhyl I).
The well-preserved tefillin that contain only required passages display dif-
ferent textual profiles, proto-MT (2×), MT-like (1×),24 and SP-LXX-independent
(2×: 4QPhyl C and 4QPhyl D-E-F). The latter two tefillin provide surprising

24  As an example of the textual relations I mention XHevSe Phyl (MT-like) with 38 instances
of the pattern scroll = MT ≠ SP LXX, 9 of the pattern scroll = LXX ≠ MT with or without SP,
17 of the pattern scroll = SP ≠ MT with or without LXX, and 16 independent readings.
286 Tov

information, as they are not linked to MT but rather to SP-LXX and in addi-
tion they contain a large number of independent readings. At the same time
they do reflect the rabbinic prescriptions and thus open a new perspective for
analysis. The combined data analyzed in Table 1 and in this paragraph show
that the rabbinic prescriptions were applied not only to proto-MT and MT-like
texts, but also to the popular Scripture version included in the common SP-
LXX text. I have no explanation of this situation other than the great influence
of the rabbinic prescriptions on the one hand and the great popularity of the
common SP-LXX text on the other hand.
b. A mixture of required and non-required passages included in tefillin. The
inclusion of passages in addition to those required by the rabbinic sources
is connected with the textual character of the tefillin since the non-required
passages do not occur in conjunction with the proto-MT and MT-like textual
profile. In other details the required and non-required tefillin have something
in common, since representatives of both groups were written in the SP-LXX-
independent textual profile, although they are linked more with the SP-LXX
textual profile. By the same token, tefillin written in the QSP contained a mix-
ture of required and non-required passages, while a few tefillin contained
only non-required passages (4QPhyl J-K; 8QPhyl III). Phrased differently, the
tefillin written in the QSP reflect a single textual profile, named here SP-LXX-
independent, and never proto-MT or MT-like.
The first list below records the tefillin that reflect the SP-LXX-independent
profile together with a conservative orthography. This orthography is not far
removed from that of MT, while its content is different.

Group iv (conservative orthography)

8QPhyl II SP-LXX-ind 36
8QPhyl III ind 6859
8QPhyl IV ind 6
XQPhyl 1 SP-LXX-ind 8 1 6
XQPhyl 2 SP-LXX-ind 5 3
XQPhyl 3 SP-LXX-ind 5 2
1QPhyl ? 5641

The second list records the tefillin that reflect the SP-LXX-independent profile
together with the QSP practice.

Group v (QSP)
4QPhyl A QSP 56481
4QPhyl B QSP 5 3 1
The Tefillin from the Judean Desert and the Textual Criticism 287

4QPhyl G-H-I QSP? 5 2 4 8

4QPhyl J-K QSP 56
4QPhyl L-N QSP 58371
4QPhyl O QSP? 5 3
4QPhyl P QSP? 6 4
4QPhyl Q QSP? 6 4 1

Conclusions Regarding the Combination of Text and Spelling

Profiles and Content

1. Proto-MT (group i) and MT-like (group ii) texts: The four tefillin of this type
contain only required texts: MurPhyl, 34SePhyl, 8QPhyl I; XHevSe Phyl. In the
past I thought that this evidence points to an exclusive connection between
the MT profile and the rabbinic instructions,25 but that is not the case (see next
category).
2. SP-LXX-independent (required passages: group iii): The tefillin of this
kind written in a conservative orthography show that the rabbinic instructions
were also applied to tefillin that were written in a different textual profile that
may be named “popular”: 4QPhyl C, 4QPhyl D-E-F (SP-LXX-independent).
3. SP-LXX-independent (a mixture of required and non-required passages:
group iv): A large number of tefillin written in a conservative orthography and
based on the “popular” Scripture text included a number of non-required pas-
sages: 8QPhyl II, III, IV; XQPhyl 1, XQPhyl 2, XQPhyl 3; 1QPhyl (?). Since the
same passages were included in tefillin that were copied in the sectarian QSP
(below, 4), these tefillin were probably sectarian.
4. QSP (group v): Most QSP tefillin contain combinations of required and
non-required texts (4QPhyl A, B, G-H-I, L-N, O, P, Q), while only two contain
only non-required texts (4QPhyl J-K; 8QPhyl III). The QSP tefillin contain re-
quired as well as non-required passages, but there is a preference for the latter.
The five different groups of tefillin can be divided into two main groups, pro-
to-MT and MT-like tefillin on the one hand, and SP-LXX-independent tefillin on
the other, probably reflecting different socio-religious environments. The dis-
tinction does not follow geographic criteria as most of the tefillin were found
at Qumran.
a. The MT-like and proto-MT tefillin derive from the proto-Rabbinic circles
that in later generations voiced the same views in rabbinic literature about the
content of the tefillin and that exclusively reflected the MT textual tradition.

25  Tov, “Tefillin of Different Origin.”

288 Tov

However, in the last centuries BCE and the first two centuries CE these circles
were apparently less strict than the later rabbinic circles, since the rabbinic
rules were also applied to two tefillin of a different textual character, namely
4QPhyl C and 4QPhyl D-E-F (SP-LXX-ind).
b. No hard facts are known about the background of the SP-LXX/indepen-
dent tefillin. This general characterization was chosen because I believe that in
ancient Israel there were two main text groups in the case of the Torah, the MT
group and the large SP-LXX group from which the LXX and later the SP group
branched off. Most of the tefillin reflect this SP-LXX text, but they were writ-
ten by scribes who approached the text freely and inserted numerous changes
that may be characterized as “independent.” I consider this text a popular text
because both the LXX and the SP are characterized by many harmonizations
and secondary readings.26
Within this large group of SP-LXX tefillin there are three subgroups, (1) te-
fillin written in a conservative orthography containing the required passages
(group iii), (2) tefillin written in a conservative orthography containing re-
quired as well as non-required passages (group iv), (3) QSP tefillin containing
combinations of required and non-required texts (group v).
The QSP is connected with the community that wrote the Qumran sectar-
ian writings, probably in Qumran itself, and this view is based mainly on sta-
tistical arguments referring to the distribution of this practice and the almost
complete overlap with the Qumran sectarian writings.27 The preference for the
non-required passages must therefore reflect the views of the Qumran com-
munity. These tefillin may thus be named “Qumran tefillin.”
The distinction between the two groups of tefillin found in the Judean
Desert is further supported by a few scribal features. Tefillin written in the
Qumran scribal practice do not conform with the later rabbinic prescriptions,
while those written in the proto-MT and MT-like tefillin do so rather closely
(see Appendix 1).

The Development of the Text of Hebrew Scripture

We now proceed to an integration of the textual description of the groups

of tefillin in the general description of the development of the text of the
Pentateuch. In my view, the different groups of tefillin reflect a microcosmos

26  See the literature quoted in n. 15.

27  See n. 16.
The Tefillin from the Judean Desert and the Textual Criticism 289

of the larger groups of Hebrew texts that circulated in ancient Israel in the
last centuries before the turn of the era. The parallels between the proto-MT
tefillin and proto-MT Scripture scrolls are clear, as are those between the MT-
like tefillin and the MT-like Scripture scrolls and at the level of the spelling,
the QSP tefillin and the QSP Scripture scrolls. By the same token, the largest
group of tefillin represented in the Judean Desert are three groups of tefillin
(groups iii–v) that show that at the time the SP-LXX textual profile was the
largest group in evidence.
I now turn to a general description of the development of the Pentateuch text
in which the tefillin are incorporated. In my description, provided elsewhere,28
the central Scripture text is the MT group. In the case of the Pentateuch, this
was the closest to the original text of that book, in whatever way we conceive
of that term. The MT group preserved a relatively pure text form in which
we witness only very few examples of harmonization which is the dominant
criterion characterizing most of other textual witnesses. From the MT group
the common LXX-SP text branched off and at a later stage the LXX and the
SP group branched off from their common ancestor. That text or these texts
are texts that were in the possession of the “people,” because they are charac-
terized by such popular traits as renewal, modernization, and harmonization.
From that text 4QRPa (4Q158) and 4QRPb (4Q364), several liturgical texts, and
a group of tefillin branched off. The place in the stemma of 4QRPc-e and of four
non-aligned scrolls29 cannot be determined.
The number of the textual branches is larger in the Torah than in any other
of the Scriptural books. This is because of the Torah’s popularity as transmitted
by its stories and laws, and because the Torah provided instructions for daily
life in general, as well as in one small area, that of the tefillin. The five main
types of tefillin that actually should be reduced to two thus reflect the variety of
the textual transmission of the Pentateuch: The proto-MT tefillin and the MT-
like tefillin on the one hand and the SP-LXX-ind tefillin on the other have their
counterparts among the Scripture scrolls, which is not surprising, since the
tefillin were copied from Scripture scrolls. What is remarkable is the size of
the group that we named popular (SP-LXX-ind), and in retrospect not surpris-
ing as I think that this was the most popular and possibly the largest group in
ancient Israel.

28  See n. 15.

29  4Q[Gen-]Exodb, 4Q[Gen-]Exodb, 11QpaleoLeva, 4QDeutc, h.
290 Tov

Appendix 1. Two Manufacturing Styles of Tefillin

The distinction between the two types of tefillin found in the Judean Desert is support-
ed by a few scribal features. Tefillin written in the proto-MT and MT-like texts follow
some rabbinic rules rather closey, while tefillin written in the Qumran scribal practice
do not. In other cases the connection with the rabbinic prescriptions cannot be made.
In any event, the tefillin written in the QSP are less elegant than the other ones.
These prescriptions refer to the use of interlinear additions as a means of correct-
ing, the breaking up of words at the ends of lines, straight/ragged forms, the writing on
both sides of the leather, and the squeezing in of letters at the ends of lines. The details
are recorded in columns 8–11 in Table 1.
Interlinear additions. Most tefillin written in the Qumran scribal practice allowed
for interlinear additions as a corrective device or because of the lack of space. The
absence of such corrections in some texts may be ascribed to the fragmentary status
of their preservation (see col. 10 in Table 1). On the other hand, such additions are not
found in the tefillin of groups i–iv (8QPhyl III is an exception). The latter group thus
reflects the prescription of y. Meg. 1, 71c: “One may hang <the letter above the line> in
scrolls, but one may not hang <the letter above the line> in tefillin or mezuzot.”
Breaking up of words at the ends of lines. Words are not split between lines in most
tefillin of groups i–iv (see col. 11 in Table 1), but they are in the QSP tefillin of group v, as
in all paleo-Hebrew sources.30 This practice was not used in Scripture texts written in
the square script and was forbidden by Sop. 2.1.
Opistographs: The two groups of tefillin differ with regard to the writing on the two
sides of the leather (col. 9). In most instances, tefillin are not inscribed on both sides,
though they are inscribed on both sides (named “opistographs”) in groups iii and v.
Likewise, many non-biblical Qumran compositions have been inscribed on both sides,
but since biblical opisthographs have not been found, it stands to reason that it was
not customary to employ this system for biblical texts, and by extension for tefillin. The
QSP opisthographs (group v) as well as group iii form an exception.
Straight/ragged forms (col. 8). The prevalent custom was to write the tefillin in a
rectangular or square form, as in groups i–iv (13 of the 16 tefillin; 4QPhyl D-E-F has
evidence of both types). On the other hand, the tefillin of the QSP type (group v) are
mainly of the ragged type (6 x), with the exception of 4QPhyl J-K that has evidence of
both types and 4QPhyl L-N which has straight shapes. The evidence thus shows two
completely different approaches.

30  See Emanuel Tov, Scribal Practices and Approaches Reflected in the Texts Found in the
Judean Desert, STDJ 54 (Leiden: Brill, 2004), 256.
The Tefillin from the Judean Desert and the Textual Criticism 291

Appendix 2. Textual Relations in Groups III–V

Table 2 summarizes the number of agreements of the tefillin in groups iii–v with MT,
LXX and the SP. The second column refers to the relation tefillin = MT ≠ LXX SP; the
third to the relation tefillin = LXX ≠ SP MT or = LXX SP ≠ MT and the fourth to the rela-
tion tefillin = SP ≠ LXX MT or SP = LXX ≠ MT. The statistics do not make special note of
harmonizing readings—many of the readings recorded in the Table are harmonizing.

Table 2 Textual profiles of  tefillin in group III

4QPhyl = MT ≠ SP LXX = LXX ≠ MT with or = SP ≠ MT with or Unique

without SP without LXX

C 0 2 5 11
D-E-F 2 1 2 (3?) 0
R 0 3 4 0
S 2 0 0 0

Table 3 Textual profiles of  tefillin in group IV

Text = MT ≠ SP LXX = LXX ≠ MT with = SP ≠ MT with Unique

or without SP or without LXX

8QPhyl II 0 0 1 5
8QPhyl III 3 0 2 10
8QPhyl IV 0 0 0 11 including
the omission
of vv. 2–5
+ many
differences
XQPhyl 1 0 4 7 6
XQPhyl 2 0 3 5 8
XQPhyl 3 0 8 9 9
1QPhyl 2 1 1 4
292 Tov

Table 4 Textual profiles of  tefillin in group V

4QPhyl = MT ≠ SP LXX = LXX ≠ MT with = SP ≠ MT with or Unique

or without SP without LXX

Aa 0 9 [+ 1 Reconstr] 6 [+ 1 Reconstr] 8
B 0 8 5 5, incl omission of
5:31–6:1
G (G-H-I) QSP? 0 5 5 10 includ several
harmonizing
changes acc to
Exod 20 e.g. the
shabbat pericope
H (G-H-I) QSP? 0 3 3 21
I (G-H-I) QSP? 0 4 7 1
J (J-K) 0 10 7 11 incl the long
omission of
5:32–6:2
K (J-K) 0 11 5 15
L (L-N) 1 8 6 7
N (L-N) 0 4 5 7

a The statistics do not show that 4QPhyl A often agrees with MT. However, there are no cases in
which 4QPhyl A agrees with MT against LXX SP. This text is closely linked with the common
tradition of LXX and SP, while it also disagrees with them, for example, whenever 4QPhyl A
contains a unique reading.
Dittography and Copying Lines in the Dead Sea
Scrolls: Considering George Brooke’s Proposal
about 1QpHab 7:1–2
Eibert Tigchelaar

Introduction: Interpreting 1QpHab 7:1–2

In a 2015 seminar on physical features of the Cave 1 Habakkuk Pesher,1 George

Brooke discussed the characteristics which he had earlier published in an arti-
cle on physicality and paratextuality,2 and proposed some explanations which
he had not included in the article. Thus, he discussed the dittography of ‫על‬
across the line break in 1QpHab 7:1–2.

‫ וידבר אל אל חבקוק לכתוב הבאות על‬1

‫ על הדור האחרון ואת גמר הקץ לוא הודעו‬2

One may note first that two strokes (rather than dots) above the ʿayin and
lamed of ‫ על‬in line 2 apparently serve as deletion markers, indicating that
the letters should not be read.3 Secondly, line 1 has a supralinear insertion
of the second ‫אל‬.4 In the seminar, Brooke proposed an explanation which was
missing in his article: these two copying errors, namely the haplography of ‫אל‬,
and the dittography of ‫על‬, could be related if the copyist was copying from a
manuscript Vorlage with the same layout. That is, because of the scribe’s initial
omission of the second ‫ אל‬earlier on in line 1, there was enough space at the
end of this line for the word ‫ על‬which (one must conclude) apparently was al-
ready in the scribe’s mind, but in the Vorlage was the first word of the following
line. Brooke did not spell out all the details, but seemed to suggest that when

1  Yale University, March 4, 2015, as a special session in the course “Editing Dead Sea Scrolls:
Identification, Reconstruction, Interpretation.”
2  George J. Brooke, “Physicality, Paratextuality and Pesher Habakkuk,” in On the Fringe of
Commentary: Metatextuality in Ancient Near Eastern and Ancient Mediterranean Cultures, ed.
Sydney H. Aufrère, Philip S. Alexander, and Zlatko Pleše, OLA 232 (Leuven: Peeters, 2014),
175–94. The paper was presented at a 2008 conference.
3  See the discussion in Brooke, “Physicality,” 181–82. See also p. 182 for the dots to the right and
left of ‫ לוא‬in the same line.
4  See the discussion in Brooke, “Physicality,” 182.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ���7 | doi ��.��63/9789004344532_017

294 Tigchelaar

starting to write the next line, the scribe looked at the Vorlage, and automati-
cally adopted the line of the Vorlage, which started with ‫על‬, resulting in the
dittography which was subsequently corrected by means of the strokes.
This proposal is characteristic of Brooke’s signature detailed exploration of
manuscripts and texts, devoted to discover every detail, from scribal to cul-
tural, and to draw out connections. His proposal is based primarily on this spe-
cific instance of dittography, and makes a claim for the process of copying of
1QpHab only. Yet, I welcome his suggestion as an invitation to survey and ex-
plore more broadly the ways of copying and the causes of scribal errors in the
Dead Sea Scrolls. More specifically, this contribution focuses on the hypothesis
of line-by-line copying, on the different kinds of dittography, and the causes of
some of the dittographic errors.

1QpHab and Its Scribe

It is generally acknowledged that 1QpHab is (at least in part) a copy of an

earlier scroll. This is argued on the basis of scribal errors such as the original
haplography of ‫ אל‬in 7:1 and the sometimes strange distribution of blanks in
the lines, and on literary analyses which propose that the present text con-
tains multiple literary layers.5 In addition, some scholars have proposed that
the X-shaped signs were either directly copied from the Vorlage, or referenced
columns of one or more Vorlagen.6 It is not clear, however, to what extent the
scribe of 1QpHab simply copied a scroll which already had a text with these
multiple layers, or contributed to the ongoing reworking and expansion of
the text. Since neither the date of the assumed later literary layers,7 nor the

5  See Hanan Eshel, “The Two Historical Layers of Pesher Habakkuk,” in Northern Lights on
the Dead Sea Scrolls: Proceedings of the Nordic Qumran Network 2003–2006, ed. Anders K.
Petersen et al., STDJ 80 (Leiden: Brill, 2009), 107–17; Pieter B. Hartog, “ ‘The Final Priests of
Jerusalem’ and ‘The Mouth of the Priest’: Eschatological Expectation and Literary History in
Pesher Habakkuk,” forthcoming in Dead Sea Discoveries.
6  See, most recently, Stephen Llewelyn et al., “A Case for Two Vorlagen Behind the Habakkuk
Commentary (1QpHab),” in Keter Shem Tov: Essays on the Dead Sea Scrolls in Memory of Alan
Crown, ed. Shani Tzoref and Ian Young, Perspectives on Hebrew Scriptures and its Contexts
20 (Piscataway: Gorgias, 2013), 123–50. Cf. criticism of this position in Hartog, “ ‘Final Priests.’ ”
7  Eshel, “Two Historical Layers,” sees the second literary layer as a reaction to the Roman con-
quest; Hartog, “ ‘Final Priests’,” as a reaction to the demise of the Hasmonaean priesthood.
Dittography and Copying Lines in the Dead Sea Scrolls 295

paleographic date of the manuscripts8 are clear, they cannot support hypoth-
eses about the copying process.9
Since we do not have the Vorlage(n) which the scribe of 1QpHab used, it is
only by paying close attention to various details that we can try to reconstruct
how the scribe copied the Vorlage. In his article and seminar, Brooke hinted at
the possibility that the copyist actually used the Vorlage as an exemplar, that
is, that the scribe did not only copy the text of the Vorlage, but also adopted
or imitated its layout. Thus, the frequent spilling-over of words into the left
margin might suggest that the copyist copied line by line from a Vorlage which
had slightly wider writings blocks than 1QpHab.10 Secondly, there could have
been a special reason behind the unusually large number of seven columns per
sheet with narrow columns. In the seminar Brooke proposed that the scribe
may have initially tried to imitate an exemplar, which would have started the
commentary on the five woes (Hab 2:6–20) on a second sheet. However, by
inserting the text which is now in 1QpHab 2:5–10 the scribe unintentionally
disturbed this layout, so that the quotation of Hab 2:5–6 now starts in line 3 of
the second sheet.11 Thirdly, the explanation of the dittography in 1QpHab 7:1–2

8  Frank M. Cross, “Introduction,” in Scrolls from Qumrân Cave 1 from Photographs by John C.
Trever (Jerusalem: The Albright Institute of Archaeological Research and The Shrine of
the Book, 1972), 1–5, 4, characterizes 1QpHab as written in an “Early Herodian hand (ca.
30–1 BC).” See also Émile Puech in DJD 25:86, who refers to the second part of the first cen-
tury BCE. However, other scholars date this hand, and that of 11Q20, almost certainly writ-
ten by the same scribe, to the first century CE. See, e.g., Strugnell as quoted in DJD 25:85
(on 11Q20) or Annette Steudel, “Dating Exegetical Texts from Qumran,” in The Dynamics
of Language and Exegesis at Qumran, ed. Devorah Dimant and Reinhard G. Kratz, FAT
35 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009), 39–53, 47: “1–50 CE.” The latest date was given in
DJD 23:364, by the editors of 11Q20, who refer to a “developed Herodian formal script
(c. 20–50 CE),” a characterization which I now would modify.
9  Eshel, “Two Historical Layers” and Hartog, “ ‘Final Priests’,” suggest that 1QpHab is a copy
of a Vorlage which already contained the second layer or youngest additions, whereas
Brooke, Yale Seminar, seems to assign the latest additions to the scribe of 1QpHab.
10  Brooke, “Physicality,” 179, n. 24, giving credit to Ariel Feldman for this suggestion. Here,
however, one might counter that quite frequently the copyist leaves a generous space
between the last word and the left margin which, along the same line of argument, could
indicate the exact opposite.
11  One might counter that the length of the assumed insertion in col. 2 is longer than the
text of 1QpHab 8:1–3. However, if in the Vorlage a new content unit really began on a new
sheet, then the last line(s) of the previous sheet might have been unwritten which would
account for the discrepancy. Note, however, that we have very little evidence in the scrolls
for the intentional beginning of a new content unit at the beginning of a new column or
sheet. This is the case for the main part of the Rule of the Community, which in all our
296 Tigchelaar

would be compatible with this hypothesis. Cumulatively, these arguments

are suggestive of the possibility that the scribe copied line by line. However,
there is some degree of circular arguing, and none of the individual pieces of
evidence are persuasive, which explains why Brooke did not press the point in
his article.
For the study of scribal features in 1QpHab one should also pay attention
to the scribal features of 11Q20, a scroll which appears to have been copied by
the scribe of 1QpHab.12 Because of the fragmentary preservation of this scroll,
there are no completely preserved lines, or even phrases that cross over line
breaks. Nonetheless, some of the characteristic features of 1QpHab can be rec-
ognized. Here, too, we have irregular left margins, some words spilling over
into the left margin, and other lines stopping at some distance before the left
margin, though overall the irregularity in 11Q20 is less extreme than in 1QpHab.
In 11Q20 we also have twice the same X-shaped signs (indicating, by the way,
that these signs should be assigned to the scribe, and not to later readers) at
the left margin (11Q20 4:9 and 5:9), but in 4:9 it hardly could have been intend-
ed as a line filler.13 At any rate, there are no clear indications that in 11Q20 the
same scribe was involved in line-by-line copying.

manuscripts begins at the start of a new column (1QS 5:1; 4Q256 9:1; 4Q258 1:1). In 4Q258
it is the beginning of the scroll, in 4Q256 at the beginning of a new sheet, and in 1QS the
width of the columns has been adjusted in order that the text of 1QS 5 could begin at
the top of a column. Also 4Q216 organizes the text physically according to content, by
having blank lines at the bottom of col. 6, and beginning in col. 7 with the sixth day of
creation (Jub. 2:13). For more details on the layout of 4Q216, see my “The Qumran Jubilees
Manuscripts as Evidence for the Literary Growth of the Book,” RevQ 26 (2014): 579–94.
12  Johannes van der Ploeg, “Une halakha inédite de Qumrân,” in Qumrân, sa piété, sa théolo-
gie et son milieu, ed. Mathias Delcor, BETL 46 (Paris-Gembloux: Duculot, 1978), 107–13, 107,
seems to have been the first to mention that both manuscripts were copied by the same
scribe. For a brief comparison of the shared palaeographic and scribal features of 1QpHab
and 11Q20, cf. DJD 23:364. Other shared features are easily discernible. For example, in
both manuscripts the scribe generally starts to write the downstroke of line-initial lamed
on or very close to the margin ruling line, so that the body of lamed is written to the right
of the right marginal ruling. The two exceptions in 1QpHab are at the top of a column, in
5:1 and 10:1. Cf. on the writing of these lameds, Brooke, “Physicality,” 179.
13  For other speculations on the function of the X’s, cf. Emanuel Tov, Scribal Practices and
Approaches as Reflected in the Texts Found in the Judean Desert, STDJ 54 (Leiden: Brill,
2004), 209–10.
Dittography and Copying Lines in the Dead Sea Scrolls 297

Line by Line Copying in the Dead Sea Scrolls

Among the Dead Sea Scrolls, there are many works that have been copied
in multiple manuscripts, even though in most cases only fragments remain. In
spite of the paucity of remains, there are enough examples of textual overlaps
between different manuscripts to examine whether in some cases they would
correspond line after line, which could be an indication of occasional line by
line copying, or even of manuscript exemplars. Hitherto, I have found no clear
evidence of scribes who were concerned with line-by-line copying. Generally,
the size of writing blocks would depend on the size of skins, and these, like the
size of letters, vary considerably. But even in copies with writing blocks of com-
parable size, it is rare for more than two successive lines to have been copied
down identically. In part, this may be due to the accidents or preservation. For
example, the lines in 4Q400 2 1–2 and 4Q401 14 i 7–8 are identical, but the
earlier lines of 4Q400 and the following ones of 4Q401 are lacking. Similarly,
4Q434 1 i 1–2 is identical to 4Q437 1 1–2, but once again no more material for
comparison is available. Where there is evidence available for comparison, it
shows that occasionally two lines may be identical, while the preceding and
following lines are different. This holds, e.g., for 4Q405 20 ii–22 4–5 and 11Q17
7:6–8 (in both cases partially reconstructed). A longer stretch of text laid out in
exactly the same way can be found in 1QHa 7:14–17 and 4Q427 8 i 6–9, but after
these lines the exact correspondence disappears, and the lack of other layout
correspondence between 1QHa and 4Q427 rules out any systematic line-by-line
copying. A remarkable correspondence is found between 4Q30 5 lines 3–5 and
7, and DSS.F133 (APU 3) lines 2–4 and 6, with only the different placement of
‫( פי‬at the beginning of a line in 4Q30 and the end of the previous line in DSS.
F133) disturbing an identical layout over five lines.14 While there is no evidence
of consistent line-by-line copying, the examples given above may indicate that
scribes might have followed intentionally or automatically the exact layout of
the lines over a number of lines. One may also suspect that occasional cor-
respondence between the lines of the Vorlage and that of the copyist, could
affect the copying process of the copyist.

14  Note that the similar shape of the fragments and the identical textual variants strongly
suggest a direct dependency between the fragments. I surmise that DSS.F133 (APU 3) is a
modern forgery, imitating 4Q30 5, even up to a similarity of the shapes of some letters.
298 Tigchelaar

Dittographic Errors

The term dittography is commonly used as an umbrella term for the error of
repeating one or more letters, syllables, words, or even phrases by scribes or
copyists. But those forms of repetition actually have different causes and re-
quire other kinds of explanations. Thus, dittographies of letters and syllables
at the sublexical level are from a model of linguistic processing often similar
to common speech errors.15 Dittography of longer phrases or passages, how-
ever, should generally be attributed primarily to visual error (whether saut du
même au même or aberratio oculi) when the scribe (or the one who dictates!)
looks again at the exemplar. Dittography of single or multiple words in copying
can be explained as visual errors in the case of so-called “vertical dittography,”
the scribe accidentally copying a word from an adjacent line in the Vorlage.16
For most cases of dittography of single words, however, several other possibili-
ties should be considered. From a cognitive psychological perspective, repeti-
tions in spontaneous speech are the result of disfluency in speech.17 From the
study of repetitions in speech two features may be applicable to repetitions
in writing, including copying.18 First, repetitions of words in speech are gen-
erally caused if speakers cannot formulate an entire utterance at once, and
therefore suspend their speech by introducing for example a pause or a filler
(such as uh). When they continue they may simply proceed, or restart with one
of the earlier constituents of the speech. Second, the vast majority of the re-
peated words are function words, not content words.19 This may be due to the
overall frequency of function words, but specifically because some function
words introduce those content words or clauses which the speaker had not yet
fully anticipated when starting the clause. The reason for suspending speech

15  Teresa Proto, “Speech and Scribal Errors As a Window Into the Mind: Evidence for
Mechanisms of Speech (Re)production and Systems of Mental Representations,”
Cognitive Philology 3 (2010), n.p.
16  For this paper I have not attempted to systematically collect instances of “vertical dittog-
raphy.” Some are mentioned in Tov, Scribal Practices, esp. 226–27. A clear example is found
in 4Q266 11:15 ‫והמשתלח‬.
17  A much fuller discussion of a cognitive approach to copying errors is found in Jonathan
Vroom, “A Cognitive Approach to Copying Errors: Haplography and Textual Transmission
of the Hebrew Bible,” JSOT 40 (2016): 259–79, which only appeared after the submission of
this paper.
18  I have used Herbert H. Clark and Thomas Wasow, “Repeating Words in Spontaneous
Speech,” Cognitive Psychology 37 (1998): 201–42.
19  See Clark and Wasow, “Repeating Words,” who do not only present statistics, but specifi-
cally examine the place of these function words in the enunciation.
Dittography and Copying Lines in the Dead Sea Scrolls 299

(a speaker began an utterance before knowing how to complete it) is different

from a scribe’s interrupting the process of copying, which may be due either to
a disruption in the recall of the text to be copied, or to physical interruptions
of writing, such as the re-inking of the pen,20 or perhaps the movement of the
hand to the beginning of a new line. Also, unlike speakers who are “pressed
by a temporal imperative,”21 writers and scribes are not under the immediate
pressure to continue their writing, which may explain the small numbers of
repetitions. Nonetheless, just as in English the word the is the most repeated
word in writing, in the Dead Sea Scrolls almost half of the repeated words are
short function words that precede a content word (cf. below 2).

1. Dittography of Long Passages Caused by Visual Error

Within the Dead Sea Scrolls there are a few cases of partial or full dittography
of long passages.

1QS 6:4–6 the entire string of words ‫או התירוש לשתות הכוהן ישלח ידו לרשונה‬
‫ להברך בראשית הלחם‬is repeated and not corrected. The error was apparently
triggered by the occurrence of ‫ או התירוש‬and ‫ והתירוש‬in subsequent lines.
4Q128 1 26–27 uncorrected dittography, partially preserved, of Deut 10:22
‫בשבעים נפש ירדו אבותיכה מצרים ועתה שמכה יהוה אלוהיכה ככוכבי השמים לרוב‬.
Probably due to homoioarcton of ‫לרוב‬.
4Q129 1 recto 11–12 uncorrected dittography, partially preserved, of at least
the following words from Deut 5:23: ‫ותקרבון אלי כול ראשי שבטיכמה וזקניכמה‬
‫ותמרו‬, probably as a result from the eye jumping back from ‫ מתוך‬of Deut 5:24
to ‫ מתוך‬in Deut 5:23.
4Q143 1 recto 1–5 dittography of entire Deut 10:22–11:1. The first instance of
these verses was apparently encircled as a correction marker, though only
the line below line 3 remains.
4Q221 1 5–7 corrected dittography, apparently by encircling, in lines 6–7 of
the words ‫ ;ומכול תועבתם ושמור משמרת אל עליון ועשה רצונו ותצלח בכול‬there
may be more cases of extensive dittography in 4Q221, but those are badly
preserved.
4Q418 9 8–10; the entire line 10 is a dittography of the last word of line 8 and
entire line 9. The dittography is marked in the text.

20  See Peter M. Head and M. Warren, “Re-inking the Pen: Evidence from P. Oxy. 657 (P13)
Concerning Unintentional Scribal Errors,” NTS 43 (1997): 466–73.
21  Clark and Wasow, “Repeating Words,” 208.
300 Tigchelaar

The first three cases seem to be due to saut du même au même. In the last two
cases there is another kind of aberratio oculi. Since in both cases the dittogra-
phy could correspond to one line in the Vorlage, the scribe might have simply
repeated an entire line of the Vorlage.

2. Dittography of One, or Several Short Words, in the Same Line22

4Q48 2–3 3 23‫מאד ⟨מא[ד]⟩םאדם‬
4Q60 3–6 13 ‫ושביה וש[ב]יה‬
4Q86 1:6–7 ‫ [אל] ̊ה[י]נו נאוה‬/ ]‫זמרה אלהינו ̊נ ̊א[וה זמרה‬. But the reading and re-
construction are not certain, and since the text also displays other variants
vis-à-vis the MT, one may assume a different text.
4Q111 2:1 ‫לוא לוא מצא‬
4Q162 1:4 }‫ואשר {ואשר‬. It has been proposed that this is a copying error from a
Vorlage which read (in Hasmonean script) ‫ואשר אמר‬. The supralinear waw
was then added secondarily, giving the impression of a dittography.24
4Q179 2 8 ‫וכל בנותיה כאבלות על על בע[ליהן‬
4Q196 2 4 ‫ומלך ומ[לך‬
4Q216 6:4 ‫עשה עשה ביום השלישי‬
4Q216 6:12 ‫ואת ]כל ואת כ[ל‬
4Q266 3 iii 20 ‫[הבא אל] דמשק {כאשר} [כאש] ̊ר כתוב‬

22  Many examples are mentioned in Tov, Scribal Practices, when discussing correction pro-
cedures, esp. 226–27. I have also searched the DJD volumes for terms like dittography,
the Accordance modules for the repetition of specific words and for erasures of entire
words, and Qimron’s first and second volume for the use of ‫פעמיים‬. I wish to thank David
Van Acker for providing a complete list of repetition of words in the Accordance module
Qumran Nonbiblical Texts. I have checked all examples in the editions and on the photo-
graphs, and in some cases I propose other readings.
23  The editor, Emanuel Tov, discusses the reading of the dittography in DJD 14:155 and 157.
One might add that the confusion might have arisen more easily with a Vorlage written in
Paleo-Hebrew script.
24  James H. Charlesworth, “Revelation and Perspicacity in Qumran Hermeneutics,” in
The Dead Sea Scrolls and Contemporary Culture, ed. Adolfo D. Roitman, Lawrence H.
Schiffman, and Shani Tzoref, STDJ 93 (Leiden: Brill, 2011), 161–80, 168. I must confess, how-
ever, that I do not see how a Hasmonean medial mem could be confused with shin. (The
suggestion of a Hasmonean Vorlage is perhaps based on the ‫ אשר‬in 1:1, which would be a
misreading of the first three letters of ‫)אשיתהו‬.
Dittography and Copying Lines in the Dead Sea Scrolls 301

4Q266 9 iii 6 ‫ ̊וכן יבן ̊ל[מגרש‬. Thus the editor. However, the remains make it virtu-
ally impossible to decide between bet and kaph,25 and the second word has
also, more likely, been read as ‫ וכן‬or ‫יכן‬.26
4Q271 4 ii 4 ‫לשוב אל תורת מושה {כי} כי בה הכול מד[וקדק‬
4Q365 12b iii 7 ‫ויעשו את החושן ויעשו את החשן‬27
4Q365 12b iii 7 the supralinear insertion ‫ מעשי חושב כמעשה אפוד‬erroneously
adds too many words and creates a dittography with the words ‫כמעשה אפוד‬
written in line 7.28
4Q417 2 i 5 ‫יצדק כמוכה הואה כיא הואה {כיא הואה} שר‬
4Q503 11 4 }‫( במעמד { ̊ב ̊מ ̊ע‬if the reading of the last erased letter is correct, then
this was a dittography in the making and then aborted)
4Q509 97–98 i 3 {‫לע ̊ש ̊ו ̊ת‬
̊ { ‫[לעשות‬
4Q542 1 i 2 }‫ותנדעונה {ותנדעונה‬
11Q1 3:6 }‫את {את‬
11Q1 6:9 ‫{את} את‬
11Q19 58:5 }‫מעשר העם {העם‬

25  Joseph M. Baumgarten, DJD 18:71, simply states “bet as the second letter of the second
word appears preferable,” but does not adduce any arguments.
26  Józef T. Milik’s transcription in the Preliminary Concordance (see A Preliminary Edition of
the Unpublished Dead Sea Scrolls: The Hebrew and Aramaic Texts from Cave Four, Fascicle
One, reconstr. and ed. Ben Zion Wacholder and Martin G. Abegg (Washington: Biblical
Archaeological Society, 1991), 19 (Db frg. 18, col. Ii, line 5) ran {‫]ו̊ ̊כן} וכן[ למגרש‬, while
Baumgarten, DJD 18:71, reports that Milik read ‫( וכן יכן ̊ל ̊מ ̊ג ̊ר[ש‬if this is a correct repro-
duction of Milik’s notes, then Milik would have joined another tiny fragment to the con-
glomerate of 9 iii). Elisha Qimron, The Dead Sea Scrolls: The Hebrew Writings: Volume One
(Jerusalem: Yad Ben-Zvi, 2010), 49, transcribes ‫ו̊ ̊כן ו̇ ̊כן̊ ̊ל[מגרש‬. The interpretation of the
words as a dittography could be based on the Genizah text which only reads ‫וכן למגרש‬
(CD 13:17). However, the CD text might be erroneous, and Baumgarten’s reading would
give a parallel with ‫ ייסר‬in the next line. Yet, syntactically, ‫ בי״ן‬hiphil generally does not
take ‫ל‬, but ‫את‬, with direct object. (The only example is 1QHa 25:12 where ‫ הבינותה‬is—
probably incorrectly—reconstructed).
27  The editor, Emanuel Tov, comments in DJD 13:282, that “the ink of the first occurrence
of this phrase is more faint, and it may have been erased.” In fact, the ink of the words
‫ ויעשו את החושן ויעשו‬is more faint, which would then indicate that one word too many
(‫ )ויעשו‬has been erased. However, many sections and words on this fragment (and other
fragments of 4Q365) have faded, some probably due to material circumstances after the
deposit in the cave, others perhaps because of delayed re-inking of the pen.
28  Cf. below 3.2. for other inadvertent secondary dittographies by adding (or retracing) more
words than only the missing ones.
302 Tigchelaar

The following are instances that have been called dittographies, but should be
read differently.

4Q51 2:7 }◦◦◦◦{ ‫ולחם‬. The editors comment that “perhaps the scribe wrote
‫ולחם‬, a dittograph, and proceeded to erase.” In my opinion, the erased text
cannot be read ‫ולחם‬, but perhaps ‫( אחד‬even though LXX reads plural ἄρτοις).
4Q70 12:11 }‫אל ]תכפר ע[ל עונ]ם {על עונם‬. According to DJD 15. However, the pro-
posed reading is very doubtful.29
4Q328 1 4 ]‫[בשלישית מי]מ[ין] {פתחיה} פתחיה אב[יה יכין‬. According to DJD 21.
However, in the reading of the erased word, the letter before yod has a bas-
estroke, and the name was either ‫ אביה‬or perhaps ‫שכניה‬.

The causes of these dittographies will differ. A few may have been set off by the
repetition of similar words in the text (e.g., 4Q48 where the probable sequence
‫ מאד מאדם‬created problems; or 4Q417 where ‫ הואה כיא הואה‬was mistakenly
expanded to ‫)הואה כיא הואה כיא הואה‬. Close to half of the instances (including
the just mentioned 4Q417) involve function words, which also in other lan-
guages occur more often as dittographies. A special case which seems to be
merely the repetition of a letter, but which also can be interpreted as the rep-
etition of a function word is 1QM 4:6 ‫וב{ב}לכתם‬.

3. Dittographic Errors across Line Breaks in the Dead Sea Scrolls

Dittographic errors across line breaks occur in many manuscript cultures, ei-
ther in the form of letters or syllables being repeated across the line break, or
in the form of entire words (usually short ones) being written twice across the
line break. Among the Hebrew Dead Sea Scrolls words are divided between
the lines occasionally in some manuscripts written in palaeo-Hebrew or in
scripta continua (as in the phylacteries) but no examples of dittography of one
or more letters across line breaks are preserved in those manuscripts.

3.1. The following list provides all the examples I could find where the last
word of the line seems to have been accidentally repeated as the first word of
the next line.

#1 1QIsaa 54:10–11 ‫( ̇וב ̊פ ̊ר ̊ד ̊י ̊ם \ ובפרדים‬Isa 66:20)

29  The editor, Emanuel Tov, provides a long explanation in DJD 15:166, suggesting that “the
second phrase was possibly added by way of correction.” In my opinion, several traces of
the erased reading do not conform to ‫על עונם‬, so that we do not have a dittography here.
Dittography and Copying Lines in the Dead Sea Scrolls 303

The first word is faded and the reading, suggested by Eugene Ulrich and Peter
Flint, is not certain.30 If the manuscript read another word, it would be a plus
variant vis-à-vis the other textual witnesses of Isaiah. One should note that the
later hand which retraced part of col. 54, did not retrace this word, which sug-
gests that the retracer recognized the words as a dittography.

#2 1QpHab 7:1–2 ‫וידבר אל אל חבקוק לכתוב הבאות על \ {על} הדור האחרון‬

#3 1QS 7:19–20 ‫ {רבים} ובשנית‬blank \ ‫ברשונה לוא יגע בטהרת רבים‬

If this is a dittography, it is a strange one, since the scribe indented the line
that begins with the second ‫רבים‬. The dittography is found in the section of
1QS (roughly 1QS 7:8–8:12) that is, unlike the rest of the manuscript, ridden
with unexplained blanks, additions and erasures, one possibility being that the
scribe was here dependent on an incomplete Vorlage. The second ‫ רבים‬could
therefore also have been intended as the last word of a second clause which the
scribe intended to complete later. None of the other Rule of the Community
manuscripts preserve exactly this part of the Rule.

#4 1QHa 9:19–20 ‫ופקודת שלומם עם \ עם כול נגיעהם‬

The dittography has not been marked for deletion in the manuscript. Apart
from this case and the following, there seem to be no other cases of dittogra-
phy of a word in this manuscript. One might add a quasi-dittography, if the
hardly legible traces at the end of 1QHa 13:9, in the intercolumnar margin, read
‫במגור‬, just like the first word of 1QHa 13:10. Schuller suggests that “after ‫ותשמני‬,
the scribe wrote something, but erased it because it extended too far into the
margin.”31

#5 1QHa 15:14–15 ‫ שפתי שקר‬/ ‫כי תאלמנה שפתי‬

The dittography has not been marked for deletion in the manuscript.

#6 4Q24 9 i, 10–17 31–3 ‫ [ש] ̊רו̇ ̇ע‬/ }‫( { ̇ש ̊ר[ו] ̇א‬Lev 22:23); transcription according
to DJD 12.

30  See their comments in DJD 32.2:118. Donald W. Parry and Elisha Qimron, The Great Isaiah
Scroll (1QIsaa): A New Edition, STDJ 32 (Leiden: Brill, 1999), propose ‫ו̇ ב[צ]ו̇ ̇בי̇ ̇ם‬, which
would be a dittography of the preceding word.
31  Eileen Schuller, DJD 40:170.
304 Tigchelaar

Both words are badly legible, but it is clear that where the Masoretic Text reads
ַ ‫וְ שֹׁור וָ ֶשׂה ָשׂ‬, this manuscript had not one but two words in between
‫רוּע וְ ָקלוּט‬
‫ ושה‬and ‫וקלוט‬. The editor proposes that “the scribe made an erroneous attempt
at writing ‫שרוע‬, then lined it through and wrote the correct form at the begin-
ning of the next line.”32 However, the more or less vertical stroke at the end of
line 32 is not typical of the left leg of aleph, and might perhaps be interpreted
as the arm of ayin, in which case the word was crossed out in order to correct
a dittography.

#7 4Q135 1 i 13- 14 ‫( כי בחזק יד הוציאנו יהוה ממצרים \ ̇מ ̇צ ̇רי̇ ̇ם מבית עבדים‬Exod 13:14)

In his initial edition, Kuhn transcribed the first word of line 14 as ‫[מ] ̇מ ̇צ ̇רי̇ ̇ם‬,33
but the straight right margin excludes the reconstruction of the first mem.

#8 4Q266 11 10–11 ‫ ולו דרך‬/ ‫ותתעם בתהו ולו‬

The dittography (‫ לו‬stands, as often in 4Q266, for ‫ )לא‬has not been deleted
in the manuscript.

#9 4Q421 1a ii-b 8–9 ]‫ אשר דבר‬/ ‫[אשר‬.

Though the letters ‫ אשר‬at the end of line 8 could be the end of a longer word
like ‫מאשר‬, “(called) happy,” especially in this wisdom passage, a dittography of
‫ אשר‬would perhaps be more likely.

̊ ‫ בדרך‬/ ]‫ולב ̊א[ח] ̊ר נתן להם וילכו בדֹ [רך‬

#10 4Q434 1 i 10–11 ‫לבו גם הוא הגישם‬
(transcription according to DJD 29)

The translation in the DJD edition, “And he gave them another heart, and they
walked in (his) way. In the way of his heart he also brought them near . . .”
sees the two occurrences of ‫ בדרך‬as belonging to two different consecutive
clauses.34 The space allows for reconstructing ]‫בד[רכו‬
̇ or ]‫בד[רך לבו‬
̇ at the end
of line 10. The resumption of the last word of one clause as the first one of

32  Eugene Ulrich, DJD 12:183. Apparently, the “erroneous attempt” consisted of the spelling
error with final aleph.
33  Karl G. Kuhn, Phylakterien aus Höhle 4 von Qumran, Abhandlungen der Heidelberger
Akademie der Wissenschaften Philosophisch-Historische Klasse 1957/1 (Heidelberg:
Winter, 1957), 19.
34  Moshe Weinfeld and David Seely, in DJD 29:272, 278. Similarly other translations which I
checked.
Dittography and Copying Lines in the Dead Sea Scrolls 305

the following one is attested in the same poem (‫ שפטם‬in 1 i 6–7), be it there,
crucially, at the transposition of one stanza to the other (and by the way, re-
peating the same word across a line break).35 The alternative, which seems to
disregard the poetical structure, is to simply assume a dittography.36
Out of those ten possible cases, only five are certain dittographic errors
across the line breaks (##2, 4, 5, 7, 8). These different cases seem to have little,
if anything, in common. Again, about half of the words repeated are function
words. It is noteworthy that the only two cases of dittography of a word in the
Cave 1 large Hodayot scroll are dittographic errors across the lines.

3.2. In addition to the cases above where one and the same scribe wrote the
same word twice across the lines, there are three cases (##11–13) where a later
correction inadvertently introduced a dittography across the lines. I include a
fourth case (#14), where a correction resulted in a possibly erroneous repeti-
tion of ‫עם‬.

#11 1QIsaa 54:2–3 ‫( מרכבותו להשי̇ב בחמה אפו \ אפו‬Isa 66:15)

A later hand retraced some of the words at the left side of the column because
they had faded considerably. This later scribe added ‫ אפו‬at the end of line 2,
even though the word already stood at the beginning of line 3.37

#12 1QIsaa 54:9–10 ‫ כול אחיכמה‬/ ‫( והביאו את כול‬Isa 66:20)

The later scribe retraces the words ‫והביאו את‬, and added ‫ כול‬at the end of line 9,
even though the word already stood at the beginning of line 10.

#13 4Q109 1 ii+3–6i 1–2 } ̇‫( ובחושך הלך ובחושך שמו \ { ̇ש ̇מו‬Qoh 6:4)

35  See the analysis of the poem in Mika S. Pajunen, “From Poetic Structure to Historical
Setting: Exploring the Background of the Barkhi Nafshi Hymns,” in Prayer and Poetry
in the Dead Sea Scrolls and Related Literature: Essays in Honor of Eileen Schuller on the
Occasion of Her 65th Birthday, ed. Jeremy Penner, Ken M. Penner, and Cecilia Wassen,
STDJ 98 (Leiden: Brill, 2012), 355–76.
36  Elisha Qimron, The Dead Sea Scrolls: The Hebrew Writings: Volume 2 (Jerusalem: Yad Ben-
Zvi, 2013), 37 (apparatus), proposes a dittography. Cf. also Qimron for the reading of the
first two quoted words words as ‫ולב ̊ט[הו]ר‬, and Qimron and Pajunen for the possible
correction of ‫ ולב‬into ‫כי לב‬.
37  The transcription of col. 54 is a problematic amalgam of the original readings and the sec-
ondary ones. The first scribe probably wrote earlier in this line ‫מרכבותיו‬, but the second
hand retraced only ‫ תו‬at the end of the word, suggesting either ‫ מרכבותו‬or ‫מרכבתו‬.
306 Tigchelaar

The Masoretic Text reads ‫ובחשך ילך ובחשך שמו‬. Apparently the scribe copied
a similar text and jumped from the first ‫ ובחשך‬to the second one. The same
scribe later corrected the mistake by adding in the upper margin ‫הלך ובחושך‬
‫שמו‬, even though ‫ שמו‬had already been written in line 2.38 As a result, ‫ שמו‬in
line 2 needed to be erased. The editor, in contrast, suggests that the scribe real-
ized the mistake immediately after having written ‫ שמו‬in line 2, then proceed-
ed to erase the word, and inserted the missing words above line 1. However, the
ink of the marginal insertion is darker, and the strokes are slightly thicker than
in the surrounding text, suggesting it was written at a different moment, i.e.,
later, and not immediately after ‫ שמו‬was written.

#14 4Q417 1 i 16 ‫וינחילה לאנוש עם עם רוח‬

The repetition of ‫ עם‬in this famous phrase from the so-called Vision of Hagu
section from 4QInstruction is almost universally seen as the correction of an
erroneous haplography, although the editors regarded the first and the second
reading as textual variants, and extensively discussed the meanings of both
variant readings.39 In a study of this section, I stated that the first hand of
4Q417 repeatedly omitted words, which were then added by a second hand.
Nonetheless, I presented an interpretation of the section based on the first
hand reading ‫וינחילה לאנוש עם רוח‬.40 An examination of the additions by the
second hand, however, shows that none of those unambiguously correct a
mistaken text, but rather propose, as indicated in the translations of DJD 34,
different readings.41 But if the second hand actually aimed at improving the

38  The textual variant ‫ הלך\ילך‬is irrelevant for this paper.

39  John Strugnell and Daniel J. Harrington, in DJD 34:164–65.
40  Eibert Tigchelaar, “ ‘Spiritual People,’ ‘Fleshly Spirit,’ and ‘Vision of Meditation’: Reflections
on 4QInstruction and 1 Corinthians,” in Echoes from the Caves: Qumran and the New
Testament, ed. Florentino García Martínez, STDJ 85 (Leiden: Brill, 2009), 103–18, with
full references to earlier scholarship. Major subsequent contributions are John Kampen,
Wisdom Literature (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2011), 94–95, 98–101; Benjamin G. Wold,
“The Universality of Creation in 4QInstruction,” RevQ 26 (2013): 211–26; Matthew J. Goff,
4QInstruction (Atlanta: SBL Press, 2013), 138–99, 155–68; Arjen F. Bakker, “The Figure of
the Sage in Musar le-Mevin and Serekh ha-Yahad” (PhD diss., KU Leuven, 2015), 195–219.
41  The other instances are 4Q417 1 i 27 where the first hand wrote ‫אחרי לבבכמה ועיניכמה‬,
which was subsequently corrected to ‫ אחרי לבבכמה ואחרי עיניכימה‬and 1 ii 20, first hand
‫בלוא נבונות בשר‬, corrected to ‫( בלוא צוה נבובות בשר‬context broken). Another correc-
tion which may reflect variant readings is 1 i 14 where the first hand wrote ‫חרות חוקכה‬,
but the correction as well as 4Q418 43–45 i 11 read ‫חרות החוק‬. Two additions of letters in
4Q417 2 i 13, 15 are, however, valid corrections.
Dittography and Copying Lines in the Dead Sea Scrolls 307

first, then the possibility should at least be considered that the attempt at
correction introduced the mistake. If the corrector interpreted the two words
‫ עם עם‬as ʿim ʿam, as interpreted by almost all scholars, then it is not a dittogra-
phy after all.

Conclusions

It is not to be expected that one single explanation would account for all dit-
tographies, or even all dittographies across line breaks. Especially in the case
of function words preceding content words, the explanation of disruption
followed by a restart with the same function word is attractive in the light of
cognitive psychology, but this explanation would need to be checked against
dittographies of words in other manuscript collections. In the case of 1QpHab
7:1–2 the disruption could have been due to the move of the hand and the
eye to the beginning of a new line, but in this very narrow column this would
have been much less of a disruption than in an average or broad column. Any
other disruption could have caused this dittography, but a red flag is provided
by the last letter of 1QpHab 7:1. Its mast is larger and thicker than that of any
other lamed in the manuscript. It is not clear what happened. The scribe may
have re-inked the pen or retraced the mast of the lamed, in either case causing
a temporary disruption at the end of the line, and triggering a restart of the
constituent at the beginning of the next line.
Pseudepigraphy and a Scribal Sense of the Past in
the Ancient Mediterranean: A Copy of the Book
of the Words of the Vision of Amram
Mladen Popović

Introduction

Why does the Aramaic text Visions of Amram open with an incipit that com-
municates to its intended reader that this is a copy (‫ )פרשגן‬of the book (4Q543
1 a–c 1) instead of just saying that this is the book of the words of the vision
of Amram?1 A comparison of the longwinded opening statement of Visions of
Amram with the tentative reconstruction of the opening of the so-called
Pseudo-Ezekiel text may be instructive. The Hebrew text Pseudo-Ezekiel opens
with what seems an introductory title: “[And these are the wor]ds of Ezekiel”
(4Q385b 1).2 What, if any, is the added meaning of “copy” in Visions of Amram?
Explanations for the use of the word “copy” in Visions of Amram were of-
fered before, also drawing the concept of pseudepigraphy into the discussion.
In this brief article I wish to add to some of these explanations by taking the
use of “copy” in Visions of Amram as point of departure in order to rethink

1  The research for this article was carried out within the ERC Starting Grant of the European
Research Council (EU Horizon 2020): The Hands that Wrote the Bible: Digital Palaeography
and Scribal Culture of the Dead Sea Scrolls (HandsandBible #640497). It is a pleasure and
honour to dedicate this article to George Brooke. George’s great knowledge and mastery of
the fields of ancient Judaism and early Christianity and beyond, his kindness, and his won-
derful sense of humour are beacons for younger scholars. The initial idea for this brief article
occurred to me in May 2016 during the presentation by Barry Hartog and Hanna Tervanotko
on encyclopaedism and book culture in the Dirk Smilde Research Seminar in Groningen. I
thank them and all other participants in the seminar for the initial discussion. I also thank
Mirjam Bokhorst, Irene Peirano, Eibert Tigchelaar, Caroline Waerzeggers, Daniel Waller, and
Jason Zurawski for their suggestions and discussion when developing the initial idea.
2  Devorah Dimant, DJD 30:73; Mladen Popović, “Prophet, Books and Texts: Ezekiel, Pseudo-
Ezekiel and the Authoritativeness of Ezekiel Traditions in Early Judaism,” in Authoritative
Scriptures in Ancient Judaism, ed. Mladen Popović, JSJSup 141 (Leiden: Brill, 2010), 227–51,
239. However, note that apart from 2 Sam 23:1 (which is already different because ‫האחרונים‬
determines ‫ )דברי‬and perhaps Jer 29:1 (also a different kind of clause) there are no close cor-
respondences to this reconstruction in 4Q385b 1. Reconstructions such as “From the book of
the wor]ds of Ezekiel” or “This is a copy of the wor]ds of Ezekiel” may also be considered.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ���7 | doi ��.��63/9789004344532_018

Pseudepigraphy and a Scribal Sense of the Past 309

the production and transmission of ancient Jewish pseudepigraphic texts

within the ancient Mediterranean and Near Eastern contexts. Here I will focus
on a so-called scribal sense of the past and investigate notions of original and
copy. This contribution will add the notion of antiquarianism as a scribal sense
of the past as an extra feature to take into consideration in recent discussions
in the field about pseudepigraphy.

“Copy” (‫ )פרשגן‬in the Hebrew Bible and the Dead Sea Scrolls

The term ‫פתשגן‬/‫ פרשגן‬is a Persian loanword in Aramaic texts meaning “copy.”
In targumim and Peshitta ‫ פרשגן‬is used to translate ‫ משנה‬in Deut 17:18 (Tg.
Onq.) and Josh 8:32 (Tg. Ps.-J.) and in 1 Macc 11:31 and 12:7 Peshitta translates
ἀντίγραφον with ‫פרשגן‬. With regard to Deut 17:18, it is interesting to note
that the term ‫ משנה‬is lacking in 11Q19 56:21.3
The term ‫פתשגן‬/‫ פרשגן‬occurs seven times in the Hebrew Bible.4 From the
context of its use it becomes clear that the term could take on the added sense
of signalling authoritative value. In Ezra ‫ פרשגן‬refers to a copy of a letter (in
4:11 and 5:6 ‫ אגרת‬is used, cf. egertu in Neo-Assyrian and Neo-Babylonian, while
in 4:23 and 7:11 another Persian loanword is used, ‫)נשתון‬. In Esther ‫ פתשגן‬refers
to a copy of a written decree (in 3:14 and 8:13: ‫ ;פתשגן הכתב לנהתן דת‬and in
4:8: ‫)פתשגן כתב הדת‬. The narrative contexts in Ezra and Esther, which have a
Persian setting, explain the use of the term “copy” (‫פתשגן‬/‫)פרשגן‬: an original
letter or decree was disseminated and read through multiple copies. Also, in
the contexts of Ezra and Esther the reference is evidently to copies of commu-
nications by a person or a body of authority.
In the Dead Sea Scrolls the term ‫ פרשגן‬occurs at least four and maybe six
times. In the Visions of Amram there is the longwinded opening statement in
the incipit stating “Copy of the book of the words of the vision of Amram, son
of [Qahat, son of Levi” (‫)פרשגן כתב מלי חזות עמרם בר[ קהת בר לוי‬. In addition to
4Q543 1 a–c 1 and its parallel in 4Q545 1 a i 1, Daniel Machiela suggests that in

3  See below for a brief discussion of ‫ משנא הכתב הזא‬in 3Q15 12:11. I thank Mirjam Bokhorst
and Eibert Tigchelaar for calling my attention to these references.
4  Émile Puech, DJD 31:293. Henryk Drawnel, “The Initial Narrative of the Visions of Amram and
its Literary Characteristics,” RevQ 24 (2010): 517–54, 527 and Blake A. Jurgens, “Reassessing the
Dream-Vision of the Vision of Amram (4Q543–547),” JSP 24 (2014): 3–42, 8–9, list six occur-
rences. See also Andrew B. Perrin, “Capturing the Voices of Pseudepigraphic Personae: On
the Form and Function of Incipits in the Aramaic Dead Sea Scrolls,” DSD 20 (2013): 98–123,
104 and 113 n. 47.
310 Popović

the Genesis Apocryphon in 5:29 ‫ ]פר[ש]ג[ן‬preceded “the book of the words of

Noah” (‫)כתב מלי נוח‬.5 The closest parallel to the incipit of Visions of Amram in
the scrolls may be the reconstructed reference in 1QapGen 5:29, although the
reconstruction is based on 4Q543.
In a manuscript of the book of the Giants there is a reference to a copy of
the second tablet of the letter (‫ ;אי]גרתא‬cf. Ezra 4:11 and 5:6 above), in the dis-
semination of which Enoch functions as a scribe of interpretation (4Q203 8 3).6
Thus, the reference is clearly to a copy of a communication by a person of au-
thority, namely Enoch. And the same inference applies to the reconstructed
text in 1QapGen 5:29, where the authoritative figure is Noah.
In 4Q465 1 3 there is another reference to a copy of a letter but the refer-
ence is reconstructed and very fragmentary (‫)פר[שגן האגר]ת‬, and not of much
use except as a parallel occurrence of the phrase in Ezra 4:11, 5:6, and 4Q203 8
3.7 Finally, the reference to “copy” in 4Q550 6 7 is mostly reconstructed in the
lacuna and not of much use for our purposes here.8

Explanations of the Use of ‫ פרשגן‬in Visions of Amram

Taking as point of reference the use of ‫פתשגן‬/‫ פרשגן‬in Ezra and Esther where it
describes important and authoritative documents and decrees, Blake Jurgens
argued that the use of ‫ פרשגן‬signified a manuscript’s permanent authoritative
value, either as a legal decree or otherwise. Accordingly, in Visions of Amram
the signalling function of ‫ פרשגן‬is to establish that the following copied content
is inherited from the original words of Amram.9 Adopting Moshe Bernstein’s
differentiation between various categories of pseudepigraphy,10 Andrew Perrin
considered Visions of Amram an example of authoritative pseudepigraphy.11

5  Daniel A. Machiela, The Dead Sea Apocryphon: A New Text and Translation with
Introduction and Special Treatment of Columns 13–17, STDJ 79 (Leiden: Brill, 2009), 42.
6  See Loren Stuckenbruck, DJD 36:31–32.
7  Erik Larson, DJD 36:395.
8  Émile Puech, DJD 37:35–36.
9  Jurgens, “Reassessing the Dream-Vision,” 8–9.
10  Moshe J. Bernstein, “Pseudepigraphy in the Qumran Scrolls: Categories and Functions,” in
Pseudepigraphic Perspectives: The Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha in Light of the Dead Sea
Scrolls: Proceedings of the International Symposium of the Orion Center for the Study of the
Dead Sea Scrolls and Associated Literature, 12–14 January, 1997, ed. Esther G. Chazon and
Michael Stone, with the collaboration of Avital Pinnick, STDJ 31 (Leiden: Brill, 1999), 1–26.
11  Perrin, “Capturing the Voices,” 111.
Pseudepigraphy and a Scribal Sense of the Past 311

Regardless of what different modes of pseudepigraphy may be discerned in

Visions of Amram,12 both Jurgens and Perrin stressed the authoritative value
attributed to the use of ‫ פרשגן‬in Visions of Amram. The emphasis on the au-
thoritative value of ‫ פרשגן‬makes sense in light of our discussion in the preced-
ing section on the use of ‫פתשגן‬/‫—פרשגן‬in Ezra, Esther, the book of Giants, and
possibly the Genesis Apocryphon—as a reference to a copy of a communica-
tion by a person of authority.
Already in 1980 Eckhard von Nordheim drew attention to a possible paral-
lel between Visions of Amram and the Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs.
He equated the use of ἀντίγραφον (“copy”) in the Testaments of the Twelve
Patriarchs with the use of ‫ פרשגן‬in Visions of Amram.13 Harm Hollander and
Marinus de Jonge agreed with von Nordheim’s observation and added that
ἀντίγραφον λόγων is used in six of the Testaments.14 Jörg Frey has also argued for
close literary resemblances between the Visions of Amram and the Testaments
of the Twelve Patriarchs, especially also in light of the corresponding use of the
term “copy.”15
Here, I will not go into the complex discussions about the applicability of the
terms testamentary literature or testamentary discourse to a number of mostly
Aramaic texts from the Dead Sea Scrolls, their transmission, and their possible
relations to later testamentary discourse such as the Testaments of the Twelve
Patriarchs. As far as I can see no explicit acknowledgements in scholarly litera-
ture have been made as to the uniqueness in ancient Greek texts of the phrase
ἀντίγραφον λόγων in the Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs. This is not to argue
for a direct connection between Visions of Amram and the Testaments of the
Twelve Patriarchs. But while there is no extant evidence (e.g., the exact begin-
ning of the Aramaic Levi Document is not preserved), there may have been an
Aramaic precursor for the phrase ἀντίγραφον λόγων in earlier traditions.

12  See Eibert Tigchelaar, “Old Testament Pseudepigrapha and the Scriptures,” in Old
Testament Pseudepigrapha and the Scriptures, ed. Eibert Tigchelaar, BETL 270 (Leuven:
Peeters, 2014), 1–18, 6.
13  Eckhard von Nordheim, Die Lehre der Alten: I. Das Testament als Literaturgattung im
Judentum der hellenistisch-römischen Zeit, ALGHJ 13 (Leiden: Brill, 1980), 117.
14  Harm W. Hollander and Marinus de Jonge, The Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs: A
Commentary, SVTP 8 (Leiden: Brill, 1985), 30.
15  Jörg Frey, “On the Origins of the Genre of the ‘Literary Testament’: Farewell Discourses
in the Qumran Library and their Relevance for the History of the Genre,” in Aramaica
Qumranica: Proceedings of the Conference on the Aramaic Texts from Qumran in Aix-en-
Provence 30 June–2 July 2008, ed. Katell Berthelot and Daniel Stökl Ben Ezra, STDJ 94
(Leiden: Brill, 2010), 345–75, 359–61, 367–70.
312 Popović

Émile Puech interpreted a phrase in another manuscript of Visions of

Amram as taking up the title from 4Q543: “Then I awoke from the sleep of my
eyes and [I] wrote down the vision” (4Q547 9 8).16 Henryk Drawnel followed
Puech in this and added: “the first person singular narration present in the
whole composition suggests that all the content of the work, except for its in-
troductory narrative framework . . . comes directly from the patriarch.”17 Perrin
took this idea further when he focused on first person accounts in Aramaic
Dead Sea Scrolls. He took the incipit as a paratextual feature of pseudepigra-
phy. Perrin argued that the use of “copy” (‫ )פרשגן‬in Visions of Amram functions
as an internal title and reference within the narrative: “presenting the work as
a ‘copy’ indicates that the text before the reader derived from an ‘original’ in-
scribed within the narrative.”18
There seem to be two further considerations that have not yet been raised
with regard to the suggestion that the use of ‫ פרשגן‬functions as a text-internal
narrative device in Visions of Amram. First, 4Q547 9 8 refers here in the first
place to the immediately preceding vision from which Amram is said to have
awoken. Given the fragmentary nature of the manuscripts, it is far from cer-
tain that the reference in the incipit “is book-ended by the production of a
purported document at the hand of Amram near the end of the storyline.”19 Of
course, one might suggest that at least one attestation of Amram putting his
vision to writing suffices to assume that the incipit is referring to this particular
writing activity. But it is not necessary to limit the sense of ‫ פרשגן‬to the func-
tion of an internal title and reference within the narrative, as may be argued
by taking the following considerations into account. Second, the Testaments of
the Twelve Patriarchs do not include references to the patriarchs writing down
their words. On the contrary, when the patriarchs finish giving their instruc-
tions or speaking their commandments they die. But all testamentary sections
are introduced by referring to the text that follows as a “copy” (ἀντίγραφον). In
the Testaments of the Twelve Patriarch at least the use of ἀντίγραφον does not
function as a text-internal narrative device. There is, therefore, from a literary
perspective no need to assume that the use of ‫ פרשגן‬in Visions of Amram is
limited to a function of an internal title and reference within the narrative.

16  Puech, DJD 31:390.

17  Drawnel, “The Initial Narrative,” 527.
18  Perrin, “Capturing the Voices,” 109–11, 122. See also Andrew B. Perrin, The Dynamics
of Dream-Vision Revelation in the Aramaic Dead Sea Scrolls, JAJSup 19 (Göttingen:
Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2015), 111.
19  Perrin, “Capturing the Voices,” 111.
Pseudepigraphy and a Scribal Sense of the Past 313

However, the paramount importance of writing in Visions of Amram and

other such texts is evident. On the one hand, there is the farewell setting on
the day of dying in testamentary discourses. On the other hand, emphasis is
put on the transmission of instructions and commandments, and on the writ-
ing down of (revealed) knowledge.20 The Aramaic Testament of Qahat shows
clear evidence of a patriarch referring to his own writings. In 4Q542 1 ii 9–13
Qahat speaks to his son Amram, and to his sons, talking about “all my writings
(‫ )כול כתבי‬as a witness” (4Q542 1 ii 12).21 The emphasis on the importance of
key scribal activities such as reading and writing invites further investigation
into certain aspects of the scribal culture behind these manuscripts, focusing
on copying as a scribal activity within the ancient Mediterranean and Near
Eastern contexts.

Original and Copy

The reference to “copy” in the incipit of Visions of Amram brings to mind the
Babylonian and Assyrian colophons that refer to the text on the tablet being a
copy from an original.22 Texts were copied for various reasons and in various
contexts. They could be copied for the moment as an exercise in an educa-
tional context, or for long-term storage.23 Copying tablets was presumably a
lower-rank function.24

20  In addition to Drawnel, “The Initial Narrative” and Perrin, “Capturing the Voices,” see
also, e.g., Frances Flannery-Dailey, Dreamers, Scribes and Priests: Jewish Dreams in the
Hellenistic and Roman Eras, JSJSup 90 (Leiden: Brill, 2004), 139–47.
21  See also Puech, DJD 31:279; Drawnel, “The Initial Narrative,” 527.
22  Hermann Hunger, Babylonische und assyrische Kolophone, AOAT 2 (Neukirchen-Vluyn:
Neukirchener, 1968).
23  William W. Hallo, “Another Ancient Antiquary,” in If a Man Builds a Joyful House:
Assyriological Studies in Honor of Erle Verdun Leichty, ed. Ann K. Guinan et al., CM 31
(Leiden: Brill, 2006), 187–96, 188; Martin Worthington, Principles of Akkadian Textual
Criticism, Studies in Ancient Near Eastern Records (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2012), 21, 28–32.
See also Alexa Bartelmus and Jon Taylor, “Collecting and Connecting History: Nabonidus
and the Kassite Rebuilding of E(ul)maš of (Ištar)-Annunītu in Sippar-Annunītu,” JCS 66
(2014): 113–28, 121.
24  Worthington, Principles of Akkadian, 29; Bartelmus and Taylor, “Collecting and Connecting
History,” 121. Also in the Roman world the task of laboriously reproducing a manuscript
was done by trained persons of low status. See Myles McDonnel, “Writing, Copying, and
Autograph Manuscripts in Ancient Rome,” CQ (1996): 469–91, 477.
314 Popović

Differentiating between different levels of cuneiform literacy—function-

al, technical, and scholarly—colophons played an important role within the
realm of scholarly literacy as they appear in copies of traditional texts.25 In ad-
dition to information about the composition (e.g., its title and tablet number
and/or number of lines), the colophons give information on the scribe (e.g., his
name and position) and his sources (e.g., the origin of the tablet). The impor-
tance of the colophon is that it is “the place where the scribe identified him-
self and established the link between the scribal tradition and his person as a
scribe.”26 In some instances people considered the colophon itself to be part
of the text and it was thus copied and preserved by later scribes, which was the
case with one of the most famous scribal colophons that describes the edito-
rial work of an eleventh-century scholar from Borsippa named Esagil-kīn-apli.27
In addition to copies made by routine copying of relatively recent
“Vorlagen” in the normal course of scribal activity, there is also ample evidence
for copying of originals that were retrieved after a long interval.28 This instance
of scribal archaeology or antiquarianism applies mainly to inscriptions, but
there are also examples of literary texts: “If kings devoted themselves to recov-
ering monumental relics, the scribes spent their lives copying and studying
earlier texts. Statues and reliefs were collected in museums of sorts, and earlier
texts were copied and gathered at specific locations, such as the famous library
of Assurbanipal in Nineveh.”29
By the Neo-Babylonian period, to judge by the colophons, an antiquarian in-
terest in their past was shared by Babylonian kings, scribes, priests, and private
citizens.30 A characteristic feature of these copying activities is the occurrence
of archaic and archaizing palaeography. When copying earlier inscriptions
scribes faithfully preserved ancient or archaic writing styles, frequently adding

25  Niek Veldhuis, “Levels of Literacy,” in The Oxford Handbook of Cuneiform Culture, ed.
Karen Radner and Eleanor Robson (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011), 68–89, 81–82.
26  Veldhuis, “Levels of Literacy,” 81.
27  Matthew Rutz, Bodies of Knowledge in Ancient Mesopotamia: The Diviners of Late Bronze
Age Emar and Their Tablet Collection, AMD 9 (Leiden: Brill, 2013), 23–24.
28  Hallo, “Another Ancient Antiquary,” 189.
29  Gonzalo Rubio, “Scribal Secrets and Antiquarian Nostalgia: Tradition and Scholarship in
Ancient Mesopotamia,” in Reconstructing a Distant Past: Ancient Near Eastern Essays in
Tribute to Jorge R. Silva Castillo, ed. Diego A. Barreyra Fracaroli and Gregorio del Olmo Lete
(Barcelona: Editorial AUSA, 2009), 155–82, 160. See also Bartelmus and Taylor, “Collecting
and Connecting History,” 118, 126; Paul-Alain Beaulieu, “Mesopotamian Antiquarianism
from Sumer to Babylon,” in World Antiquarianism: Comparative Perspectives, ed. Alain
Schnapp (Los Angeles: Getty Research Institute: 2013), 121–39, 132–33.
30  Hallo, “Another Ancient Antiquary,” 192.
Pseudepigraphy and a Scribal Sense of the Past 315

a colophon in contemporary cuneiform.31 Thanks to the unusual formatting

and script, copies of ancient inscriptions can usually be easily distinguished.32
The study of the archaizing script formed part of the Neo-Babylonian scribal
curriculum until the Seleucid period.33 The use of palaeography in these texts
connected authority, power, and scholarship and in doing so these texts and
colophons represented the authority of the past.34 Thus, archaic and archaiz-
ing palaeography in texts and colophons also reveal an antiquarian proclivity
to connect with the distant past, especially the antediluvian past.35 Because of
accidental finds of archaic tablets perhaps some Mesopotamian scholars be-
lieved that, as Paul-Alain Beaulieu suggests, they had found those “inscriptions
from before the flood” mentioned by Ashurbanipal.36
In light of the discussion about the concept of pseudepigraphy in ancient
Judaism it may be instructive to consider briefly the so-called Cruciform
Monument, which “highlights the ability of Babylonian scribes and scholars
in the sixth century BCE to undertake methodical historical research . . . to cre-
ate a convincing forgery.”37 The Cruciform Monument may indeed have been
“triggered by and predicated on Nabonidus’ deep archaeological and historical
concerns,” but to understand it as “nothing but a symptom of the degree of
antiquarian obsession Nabonidus had reached”38 seems to exclude also taking
seriously a genuine concern with the past on the part of the expert scribes
who created this text.39 Thus, the text of the Cruciform Monument need not
be set apart as a forgery from other instances of constructions of the past in
cuneiform texts.40

31  Veldhuis, “Levels of Literacy,” 81.

32  Bartelmus and Taylor, “Collecting and Connecting History,” 120.
33  Beaulieu, “Mesopotamian Antiquarianism,” 131.
34  Veldhuis, “Levels of Literacy,” 82.
35  Stefan M. Maul, “Gottesdienst im Sonnenheiligtum zu Sippar,” in Munuscula
Mesopotamica: Festschrift für Johannes Renger, ed. Barbara Böck, Eva Cancik-Kirschbaum,
and Thomas Richter, AOAT 267 (Münster: Ugarit, 1999), 285–316, 312–13; Matthew T. Rutz,
“Archaizing Scripts in Emar and the Diviner Šaggar-abu,” UF 38 (2006): 593–616, 610.
36  Beaulieu, “Mesopotamian Antiquarianism,” 131–32.
37  Beaulieu, “Mesopotamian Antiquarianism,” 130. See also Bartelmus and Taylor, “Collecting
and Connecting History,” 122.
38  Rubio, “Scribal Secrets,” 165.
39  Cf. Beaulieu, “Mesopotamian Antiquarianism,” 130.
40  In Classics discussion of ancient frauds has evolved into a re-appreciation of pseude-
pigraphic texts. See, e.g., James E.G. Zetzel, “Emendavi ad Tironem: Some Notes on
Scholarship in the Second Century A. D.,” HSCP 77 (1973): 225–43; McDonnel, “Writing,
Copying, and Autograph Manuscripts”; Niklas Holzberg, ed., Die Appendix Vergiliana:
316 Popović

Recent research on the concept of pseudepigraphy in ancient Judaism has

made clear the need not to understand these texts as frauds or wrongfully at-
tributed texts. Instead these texts should be studied as proper contributions
to ongoing debates and discourses tied to these writers’ and their audiences’
concern with their past and their efforts in establishing ethics through the imi-
tation or emulation of an authoritative and exemplary figure.41 The past was
accessible through the texts created and copied by these writers and scribes.

A Scribal Sense of the Past

The relation between copy and original in the cuneiform evidence is obviously
very different from the evidence that is available in the extant ancient Jewish
manuscripts. If the incipit in Visions of Amram is at all comparable to the
cuneiform colophons it is evident that the cuneiform colophons refer to actual
copyists, actual copies, and actual originals in time and place, whereas in
Visions of Amram the reference to a copy of the book of the words of the vision
of Amram exists only within the literary realm.42 There was no actual original
or immediate Vorlage of which the copies as they are extant in 4Q543 and in
4Q545 were a copy.
If the colophon-turned-part-of-the-text describing the editorial work of
Esagil-kīn-apli referred to above is something to go on this may support a com-
parison between the incipit of Visions of Amram and cuneiform colophons.
The comparison between cuneiform and Jewish texts is revealing of what I
would like to call a scribal sense of the past in the latter texts. In Visions of
Amram and also in other ancient Jewish texts, for example 1 Enoch, there is
an evident tendency to harken back to the distant past, be it pre-Mosaic or

Pseudepigraphen im literarischen Kontext, Classica Monacensia 30 (Tübingen: Gunter

Narr, 2005); Irene Peirano, The Rhetoric of the Roman Fake: Latin Pseudepigrapha in Context
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012); Peirano, “Authenticity as an Aesthetic
Concept: Ancient and Modern Reflections,” in Aesthetic Value in Classical Antiquity, ed.
Ineke Sluiter and Ralph M. Rosen, Mnemosyne, Supplements 350 (Leiden: Brill, 2012),
215–42.
41  See, e.g., Tigchelaar, “Old Testament Pseudepigrapha”; Hindy Najman, “The Exemplary
Protagonist: The Case of 4 Ezra,” in Old Testament Pseudepigrapha and the Scriptures,
261–87.
42  Also, we do not find a similar use of archaic or archaizing palaeography in the manu-
scripts from the Judaean Desert, although perhaps one may suggest that the writing of
the divine name in some of the scrolls reflects a similar such use in order to represent the
authority of the past by connecting authority, power, and scholarship.
Pseudepigraphy and a Scribal Sense of the Past 317

antediluvian. Scribes evidently played an important role in these constant en-

gagements with the past.
The scribal archaeology evident in cuneiform evidence seems absent in an-
cient Judaism. However, in the literary realm there is evidence for the aware-
ness of the existence of ancient inscriptions. The function of writing and books
is important in Jubilees.43 In Jub. 8:1–4 the text states that Cainan was taught
to read and write by his father Arpachshad, that Cainan found a writing which
the ancestors engraved on stone, and that he read it, transcribed it, and copied
it down. Again, for ancient Judaism we have no historical evidence for actual
copies that are the result of such scribal archaeology, but there is at least evi-
dence in the literary setting that shows a scribal sense of the past that is similar
to what is found in cuneiform evidence.
Given the paramount importance of writing in Visions of Amram and other
such texts, the reference to a “copy” may indeed function as a paratextual de-
vice of pseudepigraphy, but also, I suggest, as an explicit acknowledgement
of the scribal tradition in which these manuscripts stood and were produced
and transmitted. As in cuneiform traditions, ancient Jewish scribes may in-
deed have had a sense of the past different from that expressed by the chain of
mediation in the literary realm.44 The use of the term “copy” (‫ )פרשגן‬in Visions
of Amram should therefore, in addition to signalling authoritative value and
being a paratextual device of pseudepigraphy, also be understood as a “nor-
mal” scribal reference, a matter of fact observation, as in cuneiform colophons.
This suggestion is further corroborated by the reference in the Copper Scroll to
another copy of the text. The text refers in 3Q15 12:10–13 to a copy of this docu-
ment or inventory list that is hidden in a particular place.45 The use of ‫ משנה‬in
the Copper Scroll (3Q15 12:11) corresponds to ‫ פרשגן‬in Visions of Amram. It is a
normal scribal reference to a copy of an original.

43  See, e.g., Eibert Tigchelaar, “Jubilees and 1 Enoch and the Issue of Transmission of
Knowledge,” in Enoch and Qumran Origins: New Light on a Forgotten Connection, ed.
Gabriele Boccaccini (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2005), 99–101.
44  See, e.g., Loren T. Stuckenbruck, The Book of Giants from Qumran: Texts, Translation,
and Commentary, TSAJ 63 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1997), 90; Tigchelaar, “Jubilees and
1 Enoch.”
45  See, e.g., Daniel Brizemeure, Noël Lacoudre, and Émile Puech, Le Rouleau de cuivre de la
grotte 3 de Qumrân (3Q15): Expertise—Restauration—Epigraphie, STDJ 55/I (Leiden: Brill,
2006), 206. The supporting evidence from the Copper Scroll is also apt in light of George
Brooke’s special attachment to this text which is evident in various ways, see, e.g., George
Brooke and Philip R. Davies, eds., Copper Scroll Studies, JSPSup 40 (London: Sheffield
Academic, 2002; repr. London: T&T Clark, 2004).
318 Popović

The endurance of their writings was what ancient Jewish scribes wished for:
“Would that someone would write these words of mine in a writing that would
not wear out, and th[is] utterance of mine [keep in a scroll that will never] pass
away” (4Q536 2 ii 12–13). Through the constant copying of manuscripts these
scribes ensured the endurance of their ancestral writings, whether they con-
tained ancient or more recent contributions to ongoing debates and discours-
es. I hope to have added with this brief article the notion of antiquarianism as
a scribal sense of the past as an extra feature to be taken into consideration
in future studies on the concept of pseudepigraphy in ancient Judaism in its
ancient Mediterranean context.
The Textual Growth of the Damascus Document
Revisited

Philip R. Davies

In this essay to honour many years of friendship and collaboration with George
Brooke, I focus on the most scripturally infused of all the Qumran composi-
tions, the Damascus Document (D). This composition lies at the heart of two
related problems that still lie unresolved at the centre of much Qumran re-
search. In previous research (including my own) D has seemed to provide the
key to the origins of a discrete community, in which the interpretation of scrip-
tural law was intrinsic to its self-understanding. But entailed in—and always
complicating—this agenda is D’s relationship, literary and historical, to the
Serek ha-Yaḥad (S), which exhibits a degree of textual overlap whose precise
relationship remains frustratingly elusive.1
D employs scriptural words, phrases, and imagery in an astonishingly rich
way. The second part (the Laws) contain many regulations directly drawn from
scriptural texts. The Serek displays a much lesser degree of allusion to scripture,
especially to scriptural law. Indeed, the function of scriptural law in communal
self-definition constitutes perhaps the most distinctive difference between the
two works. While S includes injunctions for the laws of Moses to be observed
(1QS 1:3; 5:8; 8:15, 22) and studied (6:7), their content is not explicated. One
hesitates to use the word “lip-service” of this attitude, but any reader of the
Two Spirits Discourse will appreciate that S in its fullest form suggests a move
towards a quite different understanding of the rules of human existence.

Scriptural Law in the Qumran Archive

Prompted in particular by the manuscripts collective known as 4QMMT,

alongside the Temple Scroll (11QT) and the Damascus Document, a majority of
scholars have come to accept that the issue of interpretation of Mosaic law lies

1  The literature on this is enormous and reflects a wide range of options. For a recent assess-
ment (from a rather skeptical viewpoint), see Gwynned de Looijer, The Qumran Paradigm: A
Critical Evaluation of Some Foundational Hypotheses in the Construction of the Qumran Sect
(Atlanta: SBL Press, 2015) and the bibliography provided there. In particular, I would single
out the work of Sarianna Metso, Charlotte Hempel, and Alison Schofield in this regard.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ���7 | doi ��.��63/9789004344532_019

320 Davies

at the origins of movements or groups behind the production of the Scrolls.2

Accordingly, the Laws of D have in recent years received more attention than
the Admonition, where scholars had sought to discover the identity and his-
tory of its community. Most commentators recognize, furthermore, that the
Laws are not a coherent collection, but a compilation of different kinds of
rules. Rubinstein distinguished “urban halakhah” from “camp rules,” the lat-
ter being regulations governing a particularly disciplinary form of communal
life.3 Davis developed a chronological scheme or three kinds of material: first,
“pre-Qumranic”—or perhaps we should rather say “pre-sectarian” or even “be-
fore the establishment of segregated communities”; then organizational and
disciplinary rules that apply to “camp” or “city” communities; and finally ma-
terial emanating from a redaction associated with the material in the S texts,
that is, presumably connected to the Yaḥad).4 Most recently Hempel, who has
studied this material and the relationship of the legal material in D and S more
intensively than any other, employs a basic distinction between community
legislation and “halakhah” (of general application), the latter being further
subdivided by adding a number of miscellaneous rules.5 The “halakhah,” char-
acterized by a “strong scriptural orientation,” shows no sign of redaction, is de-
void of polemic and may be compared with the contents of 11QT and 4QMMT.6
Rules of communal organization are indicated by references to camps (‫מחנות‬,
cf. 4QMMT [4Q394 3–7 ii 15, 17; 8 iv 10]) and “congregation” (‫)עדה‬, and dic-
tate the responsibilities of an “overseer” (‫ )מבקר‬and “judges” (‫ )שופטים‬in gov-
erning the community, along with priests and Levites. The array of authority
figures is apparently disturbed by the double mention (CD 12:21; 13:22) of the
‫משכיל‬, leading Hempel to suspect an editorial intrusion. There is certainly little
place in D for another official alongside the judges, priests, Levites, and the
mebaqqer. But while Hempel may well be right, ‫ משכיל‬in D may be a term for a
community member, in line with its use in Dan 11:33, 35 and 12:3, 10 to designate
one of an elite community. This interpretation, in fact, makes the best sense of

2  See e.g., Lawrence H. Schiffman, Reclaiming the Dead Sea Scrolls: Their True Meaning for
Judaism and Christianity (Philadelphia: JPS, 1994).
3  Arie Rubinstein, “Urban Halakhah and Camp Rules in the ‘Cairo Fragments of a Damascene
Covenant’,” Sefarad 12 (1952): 283–96.
4  Robert Davis, “The History of the Composition of the Damascus Covenant Statutes (CD 9–16
+ 4QD)” (PhD diss., Harvard, 1992).
5  Charlotte Hempel, The Laws of the Damascus Document: Sources, Tradition and Redaction,
STDJ 29 (Leiden: Brill, 1998).
6  Hempel, The Laws of the Damascus Document, 36.
The Textual Growth of the Damascus Document Revisited 321

the commandment laid upon such persons (12:21) to “deal with all the living
according to the rule appropriate for each occasion.”
Hempel’s explanation of the presence of ‫ משכיל‬in D is in line with her
analysis of a diverse and only loosely organized collection of materials in the
Laws. This she sees as having been arranged by a “Damascus redactor” who
also makes links with the Admonition and, like Davis, she identifies a further
redaction in which “the community behind S revised and updated the commu-
nal legislation of D.”7 This redaction evidences the priority of D over S (and was
argued on the basis of the Admonition by Davies).8 But she reserves a separate
discussion for the so-called “Penal Code” (PC), constituting a third category,
because of its very similar form in both D and S. On the assumption that the
regulations in this Code applied originally to only one of the two communities
of D and S, she assigns it to D, and supposes that it was subsequently adopted
into S to regulate the Yaḥad.
Analysis of both the Admonition and Laws, then, has led to a widely ac-
cepted (though not unchallenged) view that parallels between D and S9 may
be explained partly by shared source-material, but chiefly from a redaction of
D by authors/editors associated with S. Since there seems to be no evidence in
S of material introduced by a D redactor, it is indeed more straightforward to
consider any literary influence to run from D to S. The historical relationship
between the community/communities of D and the Yaḥad of S, however, re-
mains contested.10 Historical relationships should in any event be argued from
literary ones. And here the Penal Code, the one extended passage common to
S and D, (CD 14:18b–22; 4QDa[4Q266] 10 i–ii; 4QDb[4Q267] 9 vi; 4QDd[4Q268]
11 i–ii; 4QDe[4Q270] 7 i; 1QS 6:24–7:25) emerges as crucial to defining both the
literary and historical aspects of that relationship.

7  Hempel, The Laws of the Damascus Document, 80, 91.

8  Philip R. Davies, The Damascus Covenant: An Interpretation of the “Damascus Document”
(Sheffield: JSOT Press, 1983).
9  Those are collected and annotated in Eibert Tigchelaar, “Annotated List of Overlaps
and Parallels in the Non-biblical Texts from Qumran and Masada,” in The Texts from
the Judaean Desert: Indices and an Introduction to the Discoveries in the Judaean Desert
Series, ed. Emanuel Tov, DJD 39 (Oxford: Clarendon, 2002), 285–322. See further Charlotte
Hempel, “Shared Traditions: Points of Contact Between S and D,” in The Dead Sea Scrolls:
Transmission of Traditions and Production of Texts, ed. Sarianna Metso, Hindy Najman,
and Eileen Schuller, STDJ 92 (Leiden: Brill, 2010), 115–31 (reprinted in Charlotte Hempel,
The Qumran Rule Texts in Context [Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013], 137–50).
10  See e.g., Alison Schofield, From Qumran to the Yaḥad: A New Paradigm of Textual
Development for the Community Rule, STDJ 77 (Leiden: Brill, 2008).
322 Davies

The Evidence of the Penal Code (PC)

The prevailing view of D’s textual (and historical) priority over S has hitherto
favoured the view that the text of the PC in D is the earlier, and that therefore
its contents originally applied to the members of the D community.11 However,
a contrary position has recently been developed by Reinhard Kratz. He has
challenged the dominant view of the relationship between S and D as a whole,
including the role of scriptural laws within the Qumran archive.12 Briefly, Kratz
argues for the priority of the S text of the PC, which he sees as the kernel of S,
and from which he believes that not only D’s text of the PC, but its whole legal
material, and manner of scriptural allusion, were developed as Fortschreibung,
resulting from a desire to widen the scope of the segregated community’s iden-
tity and lifestyle to embrace all of Israel. Space does not permit me to discuss
here the theory of Kratz’s Göttingen colleague Annette Steudel that under-
stands D as a “rewriting” of S to include the Admonition.13
In what follows it will be argued that Kratz’s exegesis of the PC is by no
means compelling, though his conclusion that the PC belongs originally with
the S material is quite probably correct, on other grounds.
It is important, of course, that the question of the textual relationship of the
D and S versions of the PC remains strictly literary and does not invoke con-
sideration of historical relationships between their communities—as Kratz
insists.14 As an example of such consideration he cites Hempel’s observation
that CD 14:25b–25a mentions women, who are elsewhere alluded to in D but
nowhere in S.15 This is a perfectly sound literary, and perhaps even textual ar-
gument, but by “textual comparison” Kratz clearly means strict verbal corre-
spondence. It is noteworthy that about half of the 32 prescriptions of the PC
in S are also in D, in the same order, and with a virtually identical text.16 Kratz

11  So Joseph Baumgarten, “The Cave 4 Version of the Qumran Penal Code,” JJS 43 (1992):
268–76; Joseph Baumgarten, Qumran Cave 4.XIII: The Damascus Document (4Q266–273),
DJD 18 (Oxford: Clarendon, 1996); Hempel, The Laws of the Damascus Document.
12  Reinhard G. Kratz, “Der Penal Code und das Verhältnis von Serekh ha-Yachad (S) und
Damaskusschrift (D),” RevQ 25 (2011): 199–227.
13  Annette Steudel, “The Damascus Document (D) as a Rewriting of the Community Rule
(S),” RevQ 25 (2012): 605–20.
14  Kratz, “Der Penal Code und das Verhältnis von Serekh ha-Yachad (S) und Damaskusschrift
(D),” 203.
15  Charlotte Hempel, The Laws of the Damascus Document: Sources, Tradition and Redaction,
STDJ 29 (Leiden: Brill, 1998), 141–48.
16  On Kratz’s numbering of these prescriptions (Kratz, “Der Penal Code und das Verhältnis
von Serekh ha-Yachad (S) und Damaskusschrift (D),” 202), the shared items are 15–21,
The Textual Growth of the Damascus Document Revisited 323

limits the options to account for these literary phenomena to two: the existence
of a common source or direct dependence of one version on the other. Here,
some caution is advisable; the possibility that either version has remained
subsequently unaltered needs to be borne in mind in any direct comparison,17
while the question of 4Q265’s relationship to the PC should not be overlooked.18
But these methodological flaws notwithstanding, a direct textual comparison
between the S and D texts can prove illuminating.
Kratz begins with a challenge to Baumgarten’s contention that the harsher
penalties in D’s text of the PC betray it as earlier—presumably on an assump-
tion that penalties become more lenient rather than more stringent.19 This as-
sumption can certainly be challenged, but Kratz is wrong to try and reverse it.
He contends that there are two instances in 1QS where a punishment is varied,
once through a supralinear correction (1QS 7:8) that doubles the punishment,
and once between 1QS 7:14 and 4Q259 1 13, where the latter doubles the punish-
ment. But following Metso’s analysis, 4Q259, with a generally shorter text than
1QS, probably represents an earlier recension.20 If she is correct, the direction
of severity supports Baumgarten’s assumption. The supralinear correction in
1QS 7:8 also implies nothing if the original reading was a scribal error rather
than a correct original reading. Nothing at all can be concluded about priority
from either variation.
On the other hand, Kratz approves of Baumgarten’s observation that in S
both ‫( ענש‬niphal) and ‫( בדל‬hiphil) are indiscriminately employed to mean

23–27 and 29–30. Of the remainder, thirteen (2–14 in Kratz’s numbering) are missing and
two (31–32) are different.
17  It is important, nevertheless, to point out that such a narrow comparison must be care-
fully controlled. An example of the danger is the case of the MT text of Samuel-Kings
and Chronicles. As has been shown recently (Robert Rezetko, Source and Revision in
the Narratives of David’s Transfer of the Ark: Text, Language, and Story in 2 Samuel 6 and
1 Chronicles 13, 15–16 [London: T&T Clark, 2007]), the MT of 2 Sam 6 does not reflect the
text supposedly used by the Chronicler (whether this text was a common source or an
earlier version of 2 Samuel), but contains later editorial amendments. In this particular
pericope, indeed, it is the text of Chronicles that represents the earlier form. This can be
demonstrated from the evidence of LXX and Qumranic texts, but without these, left only
with two biblical texts we might arrive at a false conclusion about their priority—as was
frequently done in the past. In short, we cannot, in any comparison of two ancient text
forms, assume that either exhibits the pristine form.
18  See, e.g., Schofield, From Qumran to the Yaḥad, 181–82, who speaks of three versions of
the PC.
19  Baumgarten, “The Cave 4 Version of the Qumran Penal Code,” 275; Baumgarten, DJD 18:7–
9, 74–75, 162–66.
20  Metso, The Textual Development of the Community Rule, 303–8.
324 Davies

“punishment.”21 According to Kratz, the two procedures are differentiated in

D, and in all but three cases imposed together. But here again the argument
is invalid. Baumgarten noted one exception to this usage in S (1QS 6:25), yet
almost certainly others occur in 1QS 6:27 and 7:19–20, while in 1QS 7:16 we find
both terms used in conjunction. All this surely implies a distinction. Kratz adds
that D also fails to stipulate what the “punishment” is—but that is also true of
S. The fact is, that in most of the S regulations only “punishment” is stipulated,
while in D “punishment” is augmented by “exclusion.” Kratz argues that the D
version betrays a systematizing and harmonizing process compared with the
less organized state of affairs in S and that “by all the rules of text- and literary
criticism, the less organized system is earlier and the more ordered later.”22 But
we can apply this principle to argue the opposite, since except for one instance
(4Q266 10 ii 15), D does not specify what one is “excluded” from, whereas in
several cases in S (1QS 6:25, 7:3, 16, 19 [the last of these without ‫ )]בדל‬exclusion
is specified as being from the ‫טהרת (ה)רבים‬, while in 1QS 7:2 it appears to be
from the ‫( עצת היחד‬exclusion from the ‫—טהרה‬but without ‫—רבים‬occurs in
CD 9:23). Here the greater specificity lies in S. At the very least, one may ques-
tion whether any general systematizing process on the part of D is detectable.
Kratz’s thesis depends heavily on just this assertion.
We must turn now to Kratz’s arguments from specific verbal comparison,
beginning with the presence of ‫ רבים‬in D (4Q266 10 ii 7) where it is absent from
the parallel text in 1QS 7:11:

1QS 7:10–11
‫ואשר ישכוב וישן במושב הרבים שלושים ימים‬
‫וכן לאיש הנפטר במושב הרבים אשר לוא בעצה‬

D [4Q266 10 ii 5–7]
‫]ואשר ישכ[ב ]ו[ישן ב]מו[ש]ב הרבים [ה ]והובדל [שלושים יום ]ו[נענש עשרת ימים‬
‫]וכן לאיש הנפ[טר ]אשר[ לו בעצת הר]ב[י]ם‬

Hempel interprets the addition of ‫ רבים‬in D as a trace of what she terms the
“Serek redactor.23 Her argument is that since ‫ רבים‬is characteristic of S but

21  Kratz, “Der Penal Code und das Verhältnis von Serekh ha-Yachad (S) und Damaskusschrift
(D),” 205; Baumgarten, “The Cave 4 Version of the Qumran Penal Code,” 272f.
22  Kratz, “Der Penal Code und das Verhältnis von Serekh ha-Yachad (S) und Damaskusschrift
(D),” 205.
23  Hempel, The Laws of the Damascus Document, 81–85.
The Textual Growth of the Damascus Document Revisited 325

rare in D (four times in the Laws, once only in the PC) it is unlikely to have
been omitted in S from an earlier version and was therefore more probably
inserted by the S redactor, whose work can also to be seen in CD 15:8, where
‫ המבקר על הרבים‬is unique, and ‫ המבקר על המחנה‬might rather be expected. This
is perfectly sound reasoning, but Kratz counters with the suggestion that the
S text is earlier and that the D version is deliberately avoiding S’s repetition
of ‫מושב הרבים‬. In support of this he finds in D further evidence of a stylistic
“smoothing” or “polishing” (Glättung) of the underlying S text—presumably
in interpreting the ‫ עצה‬of the S text as the “council of the Many.” However,
there is more to be said by way of textual comparison that questions Kratz’s
explanation. In the first place, D’s ‫ לוא בעצה‬is a unique expression: while
most translations render “without permission,” this is a guess, and it is quite
likely that the text is defective. Secondly, the phrase ‫ עצת הרבים‬is found no-
where in S (‫ בעצה על פי הרבים‬being the nearest equivalent in 1QS 8:19; 9:2). Of
course, Kratz’s presumed D glossator may not have realized he was creating
a new expression. But what do we make of the use of ‫ שלושים יום‬rather than
‫ ?שלושים ימים‬Both singular and plural of ‫ יום‬are used elsewhere in the PC with-
out any apparent logic. Such an inconsistency is unlikely in the act of direct
copying. Perhaps—and this possibility was raised earlier—there is evidence of
further textual intervention. And if we have to reckon with such intervention,
other explanations come into play. For instance, the particular regulation on
leaving a session of the many may not be original at all, but inserted into the S
version under the influence of the preceding ‫( סרך למושב הרבים‬1QS 6:8ff.) and
later copied into D’s version by a scribe who noticed the discrepancy between
the two versions (if from memory, the variation in expressing “thirty days”
makes sense). We are left, then, with some interesting features but no defini-
tive explanation, and certainly no convincing evidence that D’s PC is directly
dependent on that of S.
Kratz then compares 1QS 7:12–14 and 4Q266 10 ii 9–12 (=4Q270 7 i 1–2), where
the D form displays the additional element, “in the house or in the countryside,
going naked in front of animals” and also (as noted earlier) adds “exclusion” to
“punishment” in certainly two, and very probably all three cases. Meanwhile,
S supplies an additional prohibition against spitting. For Kratz the additional
prohibition in S does not illuminate the relationship between the two forms
of the Code. But perhaps it does, for again we have a circumstance not dis-
similar to the ‫ סרך למושב הרבים‬of the previous case, where one of the possible
explanations was that an injunction was added to S and then later copied into
D. Here we may also have an injunction subsequently added to S but not cop-
ied into D. As for the expansion in D, Kratz concludes that “in the distinction
326 Davies

a clear tendency can be recognized to expand the range of applicability of the

prescription.”24 Whether or not a single case such as this evidences a “ten-
dency,” it is clear from the range of the Laws of D that those addressed live in
“cities” and “camps” and travel, while S seems to address only one, secluded
and perhaps even static, community or kind of community. The distinction be-
tween D and S, therefore, implies no more than that the prescription in D has
been added—or, less probably but not impossibly, subtracted in S—to adapt
it to a different lifestyle. It is quite excessive to convert what may be no more
than an adaptation (moreover, one by any intervening hand) into a deliberate
process of expanding applicability.
In the next example, 1QS 7:15–18 rules on the most serious offence of com-
plaining against the “foundation of the Yaḥad,” meriting permanent exclusion.
Kratz notes that before such serious transgressions are addressed, there is a
regulation (1QS 7:17b–18a) that is more lenient concerning behaviour towards
a neighbour “unjustly” (‫)לוא במשפט‬. The D version, says Kratz, seems to have
structured itself on the S version because subsequent injunctions also use the
word ‫משפט‬, while the S version does not. This word, then, becomes a thematic
link between the remaining items of the D list, prompted by the one occur-
rence in S, even though the content of each version of the PC is now differ-
ent. The injunctions in D dictate permanent exclusion from the community,
with the exception of stealing food from a neighbour and murmuring against
the mothers. The latter should probably be regarded as a logical addition to the
regulation about murmuring against the fathers, which again illustrates no
“tendency” but an adaptation to a different context. But again, there remains
more to be said, and the two very similar passages need to be more closely
compared:

1QS 7:15–18
‫והאיש אשר ילך רכיל ברעהו והבדילהו שנה אחת מטהרת הרבים ונענש‬
‫ואיש ברבים ילך רכיל לשלח הואה מאתם ולוא ישוב עוד‬
‫והאיש אשר ילון על יסוד היחד ישלחהו ולוא ישוב‬
‫ואם על רעהו ילון אשר לוא במשפט ונענש ששה חדשים‬

4Q270 7 i 5–8 (=4Q266 10 ii 14–15)

‫ חדשים‬. . . ‫]ואשר ילך רכיל ברעהו והבדילוה[ו מן הטהרה שנ]ה אחת ונענש‬
‫]ואיש ברבים ילך רכיל לשלח הוא ולא] ישוב ע[וד‬
[‫[ואם על רעהו ילון אשר לא במשפט ונענש ששה חודשים‬

24  Kratz, “Der Penal Code und das Verhältnis von Serekh ha-Yachad (S) und Damaskusschrift
(D),” 207.
The Textual Growth of the Damascus Document Revisited 327

From what little is preserved in the D version, as distinct from text restored from
S, we observe only that S’s ‫ הרבים‬after ‫ מטהרת‬is not present in D and so might
assume D’s shorter version to be earlier. Kratz argues, in a more complex fash-
ion, for the contrary. He suggests that the injunctions beginning . . . ‫ואיש ברבים‬
and . . . ‫ והאיש אשר ילון‬are additions in S, breaking the continuity between
offences against a neighbour and expanding them with reference to a group
(‫ רבים‬and ‫)יסוד היחד‬. The D text, he suggests, presupposes at least one of these
insertions. The second, “grumbling against the ‫יסוד היחד‬,” has however been
transferred to the end, where it is now directed at “mothers and fathers.”
According to Kratz the placement in S is more logical than the odd arrange-
ment in D.
This is a possible inference, but since most of the D version is merely re-
stored, including the crucial injunctions about slandering the Many and mur-
muring against the neighbour, arguments about the relative dependence of
the two texts are somewhat conjectural. The suggestion that in S the two in-
junctions against slandering the Many and murmuring against the “founda-
tion” are insertions is also an inference, and a more careful comparison throws
doubt on Kratz’s reasoning. Note how the word order of the four injunctions
in S is varied:

‫והאיש אשר ילך רכיל ברעהו‬

‫והאיש ברבים ילך רכיל‬
‫והאיש אשר ילון על‬
‫ואם על רעהו‬

It may be significant that the verb and object are transposed in the first two, be-
cause in the case of an insertion one would expect to find the same word order.
Both, at any rate, use the preposition bet. The second pair likewise switches
the order of verb and object, but employs ‘al. If the syntax and the rhetoric
of the two pairs are taken into consideration, the first two and the last two
lines belong together. The variation of syntax is also contrastive: placing the
object of the slander before the verb underlines the point that it is not the verb
that makes the difference but the object. In the second pairing this contrast
is clearer, because the second of the pair begins with the protasis instead of
the apodosis, making the same point even more forcefully: the offence may
be the same, but if the object differs, so does the punishment. On this more
comprehensive comparison of the two texts, we have two consecutive pair-
ings that show no sign of disruption, as Kratz contends, but in fact display a
rhetorical force. The question of D’s placement of grumbling against mothers
and fathers can also be given another explanation: it is grouped with two other
328 Davies

offences that also meet with the strongest punishment: permanent expulsion.
Admittedly, there is one intrusive case here (taking food), for which there is no
obvious explanation. But signs of scribal intervention beyond an initial copy-
ing from one to the other have already been noted, and that explanation may
hold here also. In any case, there is no need to speculate further, since it is
clear that a comparison of the two versions affords no compelling reason to
conclude that the D text is dependent on S.
A further argument for the priority of S are the following comparisons:

1QS 7:22–24 and 24–25

‫כול איש אשר יהיה בעצת היחד על מלואת עשר שנים ושבה רוחו לבגוד ביחד‬
‫ויצא מלפני הרבים ללכת בשרירות לבו לוא ישוב אל עצת היחד עוד‬

4Q270 7 i 11 (=4Q267 9 vi)

‫]והאיש[ אשר ימאס ]א[ת משפט הרבים ויצא ו]לא ישוב עוד‬

1QS 7:24–25
‫ואיש מאנשי היח]ד א[שר יתערב עמו בטהרתו או בהונו אש]ר ערב עם הון [הרבים‬
[‫והיה משפטו כמוהו לשל]ח אותו‬

4Q270 7 i 11–12 (=4Q267 9 vi)

‫]ואשר יקח[ אכלו חוצה מן המשפט והשיבו לאיש אשר לקחו מ]מנו‬

Again, despite the relative brevity of the D text in each case, Kratz argues for
the priority of S. He asserts that in the first set, the penalty of ten years has been
dropped in D (contradicting his general argument about D’s increased “speci-
ficity”) and the offence redirected against the ‫ משפט‬of the Many, which, Kratz
observes, covers everything that has previously been prescribed and is thus to
be understood as an all-inclusive indictment. The word ‫משפט‬, however, occurs
in CD 37 times and 52 in 1QS, which makes the possibility of coincidental oc-
currence quite high: but in the PC the word occurs only in the final stipulations
and in the superscription and conclusion to both versions. This clustering itself
might provide an explanation for the frequency of the word in the preceding
lines in D. The expression ‫ מאס משפט‬recurs (with the plural) in D (4Q266 11 5)
as well as in 1QS 3:5 and can be discounted. The other two occurrences of the
word are ‫( חוצה מן המשפט‬4Q270 7 i 12) and ‫לוא כמשפט‬. Both formulations dif-
fer from S’s ‫במשפט‬. Hence allusion to ‫ משפט‬in an underlying S text of PC is, of
course, a possible explanation, but not a compelling one.
Kratz makes a further argument from the final three injunctions in D, which
have no correspondence in S, and which introduce first wives, then “fathers”
The Textual Growth of the Damascus Document Revisited 329

and finally “mothers.” It is not clear whether in the last two parents or senior,
even elderly, members are meant, but the implication of female members is
clear enough. He makes the point that the community addressed in D is com-
posed of families, unlike the Yaḥad, which contains no mention of women,
and claims that while the original PC applied only to a male community, D
has enlarged the scope of its remit to embrace a wider community, an “Israel.”
There is in this claim, unfortunately, no wider discussion of the question of
women in the Q texts, especially 1QSa, which might obscure the matter. But
in any case, it seems to me, again, that what Kratz wishes to see as a deliber-
ate tendency in the redefinition of the community implied in the original PC
(namely, in his view, the Yaḥad), may equally well be the result of adaptation
to a literary context in which families are included. Bluntly, as far as purely tex-
tual comparisons goes, Kratz’s argument is circular. When, however, he switch-
es to wider literary considerations, he offers a way of escaping the circle and
genuinely solving the problem. For now he adds that while there seem to be
connections between the PC in S and the so-called “Manifesto” that follows it,
the PC in D has no close ties with the surrounding material. We are in the realm
of redaction criticism, and we must pursue its logic. The PC in D is followed
(after a blank attested in 4Q270) with a heading formally introducing the next
section: ‫[אלה המ]שפטים א[שר ישפטו ]בם כל המתיסרים‬. This corresponds to S’s
heading (1QS 6:24). As for the beginning, the first preserved injunction of the
PC begins in CD 14:20, preceded by [‫וזה פרוש המשפטים אשר ]ישפטו בהם‬, which
corresponds rather closely to it. These observations suggest that in D the PC
has been inserted into an existing collection. Indeed, that heading itself is im-
mediately preceded by what seems to be a similarly formulated conclusion
to the foregoing rules: ‫וזה פרוש מושב המ]חנות‬. But before pursuing this line of
argument further, let me review what I believe Kratz has achieved, and not
achieved. What he believes can be drawn from his text-comparative exercise
is as follows:

In difference to S, where everything is related to the yahad and its orga-

nization, D deals with the biblical ideal of Israel, based on the Mosaic
Torah. The points of contact are too close for an independent develop-
ment from a common source. So one has to be a revision of the other.
Because the yahad in S also understands itself as the (true) biblical Israel,
it is unclear why S would have relinquished D’s biblical grounding of the
rules in the PC and deliberately omitted them. On the other hand, it can
easily be imagined that the PC of S would have been explicitly set in a
wider horizon and thus have received a new legitimation. Why, then, the
self-designation of the yahad, as far as we see, was avoided and replaced
330 Davies

entirely by other terms like ‘covenant’ and ‘community’ is hard to say.

Perhaps this has historical causes, some internal controversy, with which
D deals in the pareneses of its first section. Perhaps the term was for the
author of D simply too narrow or strange or unbiblical. At any rate, it
seems to me more natural and more likely that D makes explicit and ex-
ecutes what is implicit in S.25

This sweeping conclusion in fact conceals two assumptions that are crucial but
not explicitly argued: that (217) “there is much in favour of the view that the PC
comprises the literary core of S and D and hence that it stands at the beginning
of the literary rise of both works.”26 The assumption that the PC constitutes the
earliest layer of 1QS is by no means established, nor that it constitutes the core
of D, or even D’s Laws, especially if, as just argued, there is evidence that the PC
was inserted into D. On all counts, then, Kratz’s thesis collapses.

The PC and the “S-Redaction” of D

There is, however, one central element of Kratz’s thesis that I believe to be
correct: that the PC belongs originally with S—that is, that it pertains to the
Yaḥad, and that insight alone renders his contribution extremely valuable.

25  Kratz, “Der Penal Code und das Verhältnis von Serekh ha-Yachad (S) und Damaskusschrift
(D),” 212. The original German is offered here: “Im Unterschied zu S, wo alles auf den
Yachad und seine Ordnung bezogen ist, handelt D vom biblischen Ideal Israels auf der
Basis der Tora des Mose. Für eine unabhängige Entwicklung auf der Basis einer gemein-
samen Quelle sind die Berührungen zu eng. So kommt nur eine Bearbeitung der einen
durch die andere Fassung in Frage. Da sich auch der Yachad in S als das (wahre) biblische
Israel versteht, leuchtet nicht ein, warum S die in D vorgefundene biblische Begründung
der Regeln des PC aufgegeben und bewußt ausgelassen haben sollte. Umgekehrt läßt
sich leicht vorstellen, das der PC von S in D ausdrücklich in einen weiteren Horizont
gestellt werden und dadurch eine neue Legitimation erhalten sollte. Warum dabei die
Selbstbezeichnung des Yachad, soweit wir sehen, vermieden und gänzlich durch andere
Begriffe wie “Bund” oder “Gemeinde” ersetzt wird, ist schwer zu sagen. Vielleicht hat dies
historische Gründe eine interne Auseinandersetzung etwa, von der D in den Paränesen
des ersten Teils handelt. Vielleicht war der Begriff dem Autor von D jedoch auch einfach
zu eng oder zu fremd und zu wenig biblisch geprägt. So scheint es mir natürlicher und
sehr viel wahrscheinlicher zu sein, daß D explizit macht und ausführt, was in S implizit
angelegt ist.”
26  Kratz, “Der Penal Code und das Verhältnis von Serekh ha-Yachad (S) und Damaskusschrift
(D),” 217.
The Textual Growth of the Damascus Document Revisited 331

It is an insight, however, that, with more secure argumentation, leads in the

opposite direction to the one proposed by Kratz. We can start with the
observation that D’s Laws present an authority structure of priests, Levites,
judges, and the mebaqqer as responsible for various aspects of communal life.
The ‫ רבים‬are mentioned four times (13:7; 14:7, 12; 15:8) but nowhere as forming
a body with any authority: they are always subject to the authority of others.
Within that structure, where could the PC belong, and on what authority is
it based? Turning Kratz’s question upside-down, we should ask why, within a
collection of laws that claim scriptural authority and an organized disciplinary
system, there should appear a code that preempts or bypasses both, impos-
ing an anonymous set of rules and erecting a collective body as the ultimate
authority? From this perspective, what Kratz sees as Fortschreibung is in fact
simply the insertion of a foreign document, which was at the time of its inser-
tion, or even subsequently, adapted in some degree to its new literary context.
But who, among the authors or compilers of D, might be responsible for
“rewriting” the PC into D—and from where? As noted earlier, several scholars
have observed evidence in D of an “S redaction,” that is, material inserted into
both the Admonition and Laws which reflects an outlook and vocabulary char-
acteristic of S.27 But Hempel, following Baumgarten (and followed by many
others), assumed that the PC originally applied to the community of D and
was therefore intrinsic to that document. Kratz’s view that the PC belongs to
S makes better sense on the basis of the arguments just adduced, and conse-
quently the PC should now be added to the category of “S-redaction.” It may
be unique as the only major “S-redaction” in the Laws, but it can be added to
the very opening of the Admonition (4Q266 1 a–b), which mentions ‫ב[ני אור‬,
an alien term characteristic of 1QS 3–4, and material identified by Davies in CD
1–2 and 20.28 There is probably some significance in the placement of these,
which occur at the beginning and end of the Admonition and, according to a
prevalent interpretation of the order of material in the Laws, at the end of that
section. Such placement is characteristic of redactional activity that falls short
of a wholesale recasting but focuses on those parts of a document that most ef-
fectively influence the reader’s perception of the shape of the whole. Thanks to
Kratz, we can now see that the S material in D extends into the Laws, and thus

27  Davies, The Damascus Covenant: An Interpretation of the “Damascus Document”; Davis,
“The History of the Composition of the Damascus Covenant Statutes”; Hempel, The Laws
of the Damascus Document; Hempel, “Shared Traditions: Points of Contact Between S and
D”; Hempel, The Qumran Rule Texts in Context.
28  Davies, The Damascus Covenant: An Interpretation of the “Damascus Document.”
332 Davies

affords us a better opportunity to understand its Tendenz. We can already sug-

gest that the general purpose is to bring the contents of D, and the membership
of its community, retrospectively into alignment (as far as the existing material
allows) with the outlook of the Yaḥad. Thus, the members of the “Damascus
Covenant” are identified with the “children of light,” the early history of the com-
munity includes not only a founding “Interpreter of the Law,” but subsequently,
and more importantly, a “Teacher of Righteousness.” Likewise, the addition of
the PC to D should be intended to align the regulations of the “Damascus” com-
munity or communities with the disciplinary regime of the Yaḥad. But we can
perhaps go further, given that these regulations neither come with scriptural
authority nor conform to the disciplinary structures elsewhere described.
For there occurs within the “S” material in D a juxtaposition of scriptural,
institutional, and what we might call “charismatic” legal authority of precisely
the kind that the insertion of the PC into the Laws demonstrates. In my analy-
sis of the Admonition I drew attention to CD 20:27b–28 and 31b–32:29

. . .‫וכול המחזיקים במשפטים האלה ל]צ[את ולבוא על פי התורה וישמעו לקול מורה‬
. . .‫ויתיסרו במשפטים הראשונים אשר נשפטו בם אנשי היחד והאזינו לקול מורה צדק‬

But all who adhere to these rules by regulating all their behaviour accord-
ing to the law, and obey the Teacher . . . and are instructed in the former
rules by which the men of the Yaḥad were judged, and pay heed to the
voice of the Teacher of Righteousness . . .

These lines prescribe three sources of authority for the behaviour of mem-
bers (do we understand, of the Yaḥad, or the Damascus community, or both?):
torah, rules (mishpatim), and the “voice of the Teacher.” That the rules are also
called “former rules” presumably does not imply that they are obsolete, but
that they have been previously in force. I argued that these “former rules” were
those community regulations contained in the D texts, largely derived from
scripture according to the interpretation (perush) adhered to by the D com-
munity. If we identify the PC as the “voice of the Teacher,” then these three cat-
egories correspond also to the Laws of D. The introduction of this material
into the Laws from S, with suitable modifications, would put into effect the
terms of CD 20:27ff., and bring the regulations in D more into line with those
of the Yaḥad.

29  Davies, The Damascus Covenant: An Interpretation of the “Damascus Document,” 194–97.
The Textual Growth of the Damascus Document Revisited 333

Postscript

By way of a postscript, let me raise one niggling problem. Why is the “Teacher”
not associated with the PC—either in S or D? Had he been regarded as the au-
thor of these rules, might we have expected this authority to be declared? For
the assumption that the Yaḥad was founded by the “Teacher of Righteousness”
is reflected in CD 20:14, and supported (for what it is worth) by the Habakkuk
pesher. Yet the connection is hardly certain, since this figure makes no appear-
ance in S.30 I argued in my analysis of the Admonition that the key to the figure
of the “Teacher” lay in CD 6:11, where “one who would teach righteousness”
was anticipated at the end of the present period.31 In my view, the “Teacher”
claimed this messianic identity. But it remains possible to argue in a more
subtle direction. I prefer to maintain that CD 6:11 alludes to a messianic figure,
citing Hos 10:12 (‫)ועת לדרוש את יהוה עד יבוא וירה צדק לכם‬, and so chiastically bal-
ancing “Interpreter of the Law” with “Teacher of Righteousness,” the founding
figure of the “Damascus” community according to CD 1).32 But perhaps the title
“Teacher of Righteousness” was not claimed by this figure during his lifetime,
or by his immediate followers. That identification itself could conceivably be
part of the process by which the contents of D were adapted—as far as that
was possible—to the ideology of the Yaḥad. In other words, the historicizing
of the “Teacher” may itself have been part of the same process by which D was
accommodated to S through the “S-redaction” or perhaps multiple redactions.
This supposition would explain why there is no “Teacher” in S, and why the
name is not attached to the PC.
Regardless of the plausibility of such speculation, I suggest that Kratz, even
if his chosen method of argumentation is not convincing, must be credited
with an extremely important insight in maintaining that the PC originated
within S, not D.

30  For discussion see Philip R. Davies, “Communities at Qumran and the Case of the Missing
Teacher,” RevQ 15 (1991): 275–86.
31  Davies, The Damascus Covenant: An Interpretation of the “Damascus Document.”
32  Davies, “ ‘Judaisms in the Dead Sea Scrolls: The Case of the Messiah’,” 219–32.
Medieval Hebrew Tellings of Tobit: “Versions” of the
Book of Tobit or New Texts?

Maria Cioată

It is with great pleasure that I offer this study in honour of my teacher, doctoral
supervisor, and mentor George Brooke. My contribution to the theme of tex-
tuality is to address the wider question of “what is a text”? More specifically,
“when is a text as testified in a particular manuscript or printed book still a
‘version’ or ‘telling’ of a known text, and when is it better to be considered
as a ‘new’ or ‘different’ text?”1 There is some overlap between this issue and
the question explored by George and applied to the scriptural scrolls from
Qumran: “what degree or type of variation in a text permits one to speak of it
being a new edition?”2 My questions for this essay are less concerned with tex-
tual criticism and scribal activity, but more with the life of a story in different
traditions throughout its history of transmission.
The story in question is that of Tobit. The focus is on the often ne-
glected Medieval Hebrew texts, particularly the two “versions” published
by Moses Gaster in 1896.3 He opened his study of Tobit with the following

* This article is part of my British Academy Postdoctoral Fellowship “Moses Gaster (1856–1939):
Eclectic Collector.” Some of the ideas I tried out in presentations at the Seminar on Jewish
History and Literature in the Greco-Roman Period, Faculty of Oriental Studies, University
of Oxford, 13 October 2015 and the Annual Conference of the British Association of Jewish
Studies in Birmingham, 10–12 July 2016. I thank the participants for their useful comments.
The article has further benefitted from discussions with Philip Alexander and Alexander
Samely who are also warmly thanked for their input.
1  The term “telling” is preferred in the context of the present study, as, unlike “version” it does
not imply that there is an “original” text that all the known witnesses are “versions” of. See for
example A.K. Ramanujan “Three hundred Ramayanas: Five Examples and Three Thoughts
on Translation,” in Many Ramayanas: The Diversity of a Narrative Tradition in South Asia, ed.
Paula Richman (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1991), 22–48, 24–25.
2  George J. Brooke, “What is a Variant Edition? Perspectives from the Qumran Scrolls,” in In the
Footsteps of Sherlock Holmes: Studies in the Biblical Text in Honour of Anneli Aejmelaeus, ed.
Kristin De Troyer, T. Michael Law, and Marketta Liljeström (Leuven: Peeters, 2014), 607–22,
608.
3  Moses Gaster, “Two Unknown Hebrew Versions of the Tobit Legend,” Proceedings of the
Society of Biblical Archaeology (1896): 208–22, 259–71 and (1897): 27–38, repr. Studies and
Texts in Folklore, Magic, Medieval Romance, Hebrew Apocrypha and Samaritan Archaeology

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ���7 | doi ��.��63/9789004344532_020

Medieval Hebrew Tellings of Tobit 335

statement: “Of all the Apocrypha of the Old Testament the legend of Tobit
alone may be said to have come down to us in the greatest variety of texts
and translations.”4 Recent scholarship still agrees with his assessment: “the
manuscript tradition of the story of Tobit is unusually complicated.”5 Its
textual variation and complexity make the book of Tobit an appropriate
work to be studied for a Festschrift with the title Is there a Text in this Cave?
The title echoes that of Stanley Fish’s collection of essays, Is there a Text in
this Class? In his preface, Fish answers: “there is and there isn’t.”6 The same
answer can be given to the question “is there a text of Tobit in this Cave?”
There is, due to the 70 fragments found in Cave 4 which make up 4Q196–200,
six “Tobit texts,” five in Aramaic and one in Hebrew.7 And there is not, for
several reasons.
First, it can hardly be said that the book of Tobit is available via the frag-
ments from Qumran. It has been estimated that the manuscripts published
in DJD 19 only preserve 20% of the Aramaic and 6% of the Hebrew text.8
Second, the manuscripts from Qumran have little in common with the me-
dieval Hebrew tellings which are the focus of this study. In other words, those
“texts” of Tobit are not “in this cave.” Third, it may be argued that the book of

(London: Maggs Bross. 1925–1928), 1:1–38 and 3:1–15. Further citations are from the reprint.
For an evaluation of scholarship on Gaster, see Maria Cioată, “Representations of Moses
Gaster (1856–1939) in Anglophone and Romanian Scholarship,” New Europe College Yearbook
2012–13 (2015): 89–128.
4  Gaster, “Two Unknown Hebrew Versions,” 1.
5  Joseph A. Fitzmyer, Tobit, CEJL (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2003), 3.
6  Stanley Fish, Is there a Text in This Class? The Authority of Interpretive Communities
(Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1980), vii.
7  The five manuscripts (in 69 fragments) known at the time of the editio princeps, plus one
more Aramaic fragment which has been discovered to attest to a sixth Tobit manuscript.
Joseph A. Fitzmyer, “196–200 4QpapTobita ar, 4QTobitb-d ar, and 4QTobite,” in Qumran Cave
4.XIV: Parabiblical Texts, Part 2, ed. Magen Broshi et al., DJD 19 (Oxford: Clarendon, 1995), 1.
Michaela Hallermayer and Torleif Elgvin, “Schøyen ms. 5234: Ein neues Tobit-Fragment vom
Toten Meer,” RevQ 22 (2006): 451–61. Its republication as 196a is in preparation, but contra
Andrew B. Perrin, “An Almanac of Tobit Studies: 2000–2014,” Currents in Biblical Research 13
(2014): 107–42, 109, it has not been included in Gleanings from the Caves: Dead Sea Scrolls and
Artifacts from the Schøyen Collection, ed. Torleif Elgvin, Kipp Davis, and Michael Langlois,
LSTS 71 (London: Bloomsbury, 2016).
8  Michaela Hallermayer, Text und Überlieferung des Buches Tobit (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2008), 6.
Nicklas and Wagner state that far under 20% of the total text is covered by the five Qumran
manuscripts. Tobias Nicklas and Christian Wagner, “Thesen zur textlichen Vielfalt im
Tobitbuch,” JSJ 34 (2003): 141–59, 152.
336 Cioată

Tobit is not fully represented by the ancient Hebrew and Aramaic witnesses
from Qumran alone, but has to be seen as a total of all the different witnesses
and traditions. Fish challenged “the self-sufficiency of the text” by pointing to
“the temporal dimension in which its meanings were actualized.”9 Although he
referred to the time of reading and the reading experience (of modern litera-
ture), his observations can be extended and applied to the study of ancient lit-
erature by interpreting the “temporal dimension” as referring to the history of
the transmission and reception of a text. “Meanings” of a story are “actualized”
as it is read (or told) and adjusted over time in different communities, and
attested in different manuscripts and printed editions. The re-appreciation of
the medieval Hebrew Tobit tradition proposed in this article thus contributes
to a fuller understanding of the story of Tobit. I will explore whether a com-
bination of insights from folklore and literary studies can help to shed some
light on the questions: to what extent are they tellings of Tobit? Are they, or is
one of them, better considered as a different text, a new story? Before offering
a close reading comparing different tellings of Tobit, I will briefly introduce
the Medieval Hebrew tellings of Tobit and the study thereof. The close reading
which follows consists of three parts. First the way Tobit is often approached
within folklore studies will be evaluated. Second, a close reading of the plot of
Tobit will be presented, using the morphology developed by Vladimir Propp
complemented by insights from literary studies. Third, I will highlight some
structurally important literary features which are essential for the research
questions.

The Study of Medieval Hebrew Tobit

When the available texts of Tobit are discussed, the medieval Hebrew and
Aramaic versions are usually mentioned, but only briefly, and often dismis-
sively. Littmann, for example, lists four of the six Hebrew texts, and concludes
that “these late Hebrew versions are all apparently derivative of the Greek
manuscripts or the Vulgate, and add little or nothing to the knowledge of the
text.”10 Skemp discards them as “secondary derivatives from a period later than

9  Fish, Is there a Text, 2.

10  Robert J. Littman, Tobit: The Book of Tobit in Codex Sinaiticus, SCS (Leiden: Brill, 2008),
xxiv. Other examples include Carey A. Moore, Tobit: A New Translation with Introduction
and Commentary, AB (New York: Doubleday, 1995), 64, and Michaela Hallermayer, Text
und Überlieferung des Buches Tobit (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2008), 19–20.
Medieval Hebrew Tellings of Tobit 337

Jerome,”11 and Wagner excludes them from his Tobit synopsis.12 In contrast, the
synopsis by Weeks, Gathercole, and Stuckenbruck includes them. Their work,
along with Stuckenbruck’s re-evaluation of the “Fagius” text, provides the most
notable exception to the negative evaluation of the medieval Jewish Tobit
tradition.13 They explain that due to the discoveries at Qumran, the medieval
Semitic texts, once interesting to scholars as a possible Vorlage of Jerome, have
“been cast into the outer darkness, so far as the quest for an original Tobit is
concerned.” Since “that quest should not be the only goal of textual scholar-
ship,” they recommend the study of the medieval Semitic texts.14 Their call for
a re-appreciation of the medieval tradition does not seem to have been heard.
The topic is absent from the recent overview of research on Tobit.15 The pres-
ent article aims to correct the widely held view that the medieval Hebrew texts
are uninteresting as “secondary derivatives.”
The following table introduces the Hebrew witnesses to Tobit, comparing
how they are presented by Gaster and by Weeks, Gathercole and Stuckenbruck:

11  Vincent T.M. Skemp, The Vulgate of Tobit Compared with Other Ancient Witnesses, SBLDS
(Atlanta: SBL Press, 2000), 5–6.
12  Christian J. Wagner, Polyglotte Tobit-Synopse: Griechisch-Lateinisch-Syrisch-Hebräisch-
Aramäisch: Mit einem Index zu den Fragmenten vom Toten Meer (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck
& Ruprecht, 2003). This absence has been described as “quite surprising.” Armin Lange,
“Review of Book of Tobit, by Weeks, Gathercole, and Stuckenbruck and Polyglotte Tobit-
Synopse, by Wagner,” DSD 13 (2006): 257–58.
13  Stuart Weeks, Simon Gathercole, and Loren Stuckenbruck, The Book of Tobit: Texts from
the Principal Ancient and Medieval Traditions with Synopsis, Concordances, and Annotated
Texts in Aramaic, Hebrew, Greek, Latin and Syriac, FoSub 3 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2004) and
Loren Stuckenbruck, “The ‘Fagius’ Hebrew Version of Tobit: An English Translation Based
on the Constantinople Text of 1519,” in The Book of Tobit: Text, Tradition, and Theology:
Papers of the First International Conference on the Deuteronomical Books, Pápa, Hungary,
20–21 May, 2004I, ed. Geza G. Xeravits and József Zsengellér, JSJSup 98 (Leiden: Brill, 2005),
189–219.
14  Weeks, Gathercole, and Stuckenbruck, Book of Tobit, 3. Auwers confirmed that these texts
merit to be studied as evidence of interest in a text rejected from the Rabbinical canon
in Medieval Judaism. Jean-Marie Auwers, “Review of Book of Tobit, by Weeks, Gathercole,
and Stuckenbruck,” JSS 51 (2006): 412.
15  Perrin, “Almanac,” 107–42.
338 Cioată

Gaster (1896, 97) Weeks, Gathercole and

Stuckenbruck (2004)

4Q200 – H1
T-S A 45/26 Cairo Genizah Egypt – H2
13th c.16
Constantinople 1516 HM (Hebrew Münster) H3
Constantinople 1519 HF (Hebrew Fagius) H4
BM Add. 11639 (MS, 13th c) HL (Hebrew London) H5, North French
Miscellany
BL: Or.9959 (Gaster’s Hebrew 28; HG (Hebrew Gaster) H6, Codex Or. Gaster 28
based on 15th c MS)
ʾOtsar Haqqodesh (Lemberg Only mentions it, not H7
1851) included in publication.

a Two parchment leaves containing Tob 5:17-6:12 and 9:6-11:15, the date is given as 13th century.
Weeks, Gathercole and Stuckenbruck mention two other Genizah “Tobit texts,” which “pre-
serve a text-type that corresponds closely to the Constantinople text of 1519 (our H4)”: T-S A29
(date around 1200) which contains Tob 1:11-2:10 and T-S A45.25 with Tob 5:9-6:8. Mosseri I.38,
containing Tob 4:6-5:9, is the preceding folio of the same codex, published by Bhayro. Based
on the watermark he dates it to end 15th or early 16th century, correcting Stuckenbruck’s 13th
century date. Siam Bhayro, “A Leaf from a Medieval Hebrew Book of Tobit: Jacques Mosseri
Genizah Collection at Cambridge University Library, Mosseri I.38 (with a Note on the Dating
of T-S A45.25),” in With Wisdom as a Robe: Qumran and Other Jewish Studies in Honour of
Ida Frölich, ed. Károly Dobos and M‎ iklós Kőszeghy (Sheffield: Phoenix, 2009), 163-73. Weeks,
Gathercole, and Stuckenbruck, Book of Tobit, 32; Stuckenbruck, “‘Fagius’ Hebrew,” 191.

The Genizah fragments attest to the texts printed in Constantinople in 1516

and 1519, which were reworked and published by Christian Hebraists Sebastian
Münster and Paul Fagius as Hebrew reading exercises in 1542. Their editions were
included in Walton’s Polyglott, again with some changes. Differences between
these witnesses are pointed out by Weeks, Gathercole, and Stuckenbruck.16
The study in this article will focus on the two texts published by Gaster,
HL and HG (H5 and H6), with occasional references to HF. Moses Gaster is
a good example of a 19th century scholar who was not convinced of Greek
as the original language of Tobit. In his search for a Semitic original he took
the Latin Vulgate as his starting point. He introduced his discovery of the text

16  Weeks, Gathercole, and Stuckenbruck, Book of Tobit, 336–413. Publication details of
Münster, Fagius, and the Polyglott on 33–34.
Medieval Hebrew Tellings of Tobit 339

which he named “Hebrew London,” as follows: “What we are in search of is to

find a single text, be in it Aramaic or in Hebrew, which should offer the same
characteristics as the version of Jerome . . .; having also its own points of diver-
gence, so that the original character of that text should be established beyond
doubt . . . it must have points in common with one or the other Greek text. I
think, now, that I have discovered such an ideal text.”17 He then described the
manuscript. Colette Sirat shares his enthusiasm about this codex, “the most
beautiful Hebrew Manuscript written in France.”18 On 746 parchment folia, it
contains 55 compositions plus another 29 written around the margins. Tobit is
written around the margins of liturgical poetry, piyyutim, for Rosh Ha-Shanah
and Yom Kippur. The inclusion of Tobit in this manuscript, which also con-
tains the Torah, seems to stress the liturgical and religious side of the reception
of Tobit. The connection with prayers and poetry is confirmed by a particular
feature of this telling of Tobit: expansion of the prayers.19 It also adds biblical
citations, to a much greater extent than HF.20
Gaster’s main interest in it (HL) was that he perceived it as “the oldest
Semitic text extant [. . .] and coming nearest to the lost Hebrew original, if it
does not faithfully represent it.”21 His fascination for an “original text” may have
been expected as a common focus of 19th century textual scholarship. More
remarkable is Gaster’s explicit recognition of the value of reception history.
He introduces the other text, Hebrew Gaster, by stating that “it is no less in-
teresting than the last (that is, Hebrew London), but from another point of
view. Whilst HL furnished us with a link upwards, this here (HG) furnishes
a link downwards in the history of the transmission of the text in the later
literature.”22 The codex was among Gaster’s Hebrew manuscripts sold to the
British library in 1925. Weeks, Gathercole, and Stuckenbruck mention that “this

17  Gaster, “Two Unknown Hebrew Versions,” 6.

18  Colette Sirat, “Le plus beau manuscrit hébreu écrit en France,” in Mise en page et mise en
texte du livre manuscrit, ed. Henri-Jean Martin and Jean Vezin (Paris: Promodis–Éditions
du cercle de la librairie, 1990), 101–4.
19  Further research into the prayers in Tobit is recommended to evaluate Gaster’s claim
that the prayers in HL “greatly resemble the prayers of the Hebrew liturgy.” Gaster, “Two
Unknown Hebrew Versions,” 7.
20  For the “Fagius” text, Bhayro points to the “preference for Scriptural quotations and
phrases” as a “characteristic of this particular version.” Bhayro, “Leaf,” 164. Stuckenbruck’s
brief characterisation does not mention expansion of biblical quotations, but explains
that the story has been recast “into a biblicising sort of Hebrew.” Stuckenbruck, “Fagius,”
191­–92. Similarly, Fitzmyer only speaks of the introduction of “OT phraseology.” Fitzmyer,
Tobit, 14.
21  Gaster, “Two Unknown Hebrew Versions,” 11.
22  Gaster, “Two Unknown Hebrew Versions,” 11.
340 Cioată

is not an original manuscript in the normal sense, but a nineteenth century

copy by Moses Gaster of a much earlier manuscript.” Gaster however, would not
have made such a distinction, and his collection tends to escape conventional
classifications.23 Gaster mentioned that the original manuscript was in private
possession and that he was allowed to make a copy of it. He now considered
his copy to be the manuscript, since he assumed that the deteriorated manu-
script had in the meantime been lost. Gaster identifies the codex as a whole as
“a collection of homiletic interpretations of the Pentateuch.”24

Reading the Different Tellings of Tobit

In what follows I will combine a close reading that assesses whether HL and
HG are still to be considered “tellings of Tobit” with an experiment determin-
ing what sort of methods can be helpful to address this research question.25
The first section explains the connection between Tobit and folklore and asks
whether the instrument of “tale types” is of use. Second, Vladimir Propp’s
morphology, an approach developed within folklore studies, but widely used
within literary studies, will be applied to gain insight into the plot of the dif-
ferent tellings of Tobit. It will be complemented by occasional insights from
literary studies. Lastly, I will focus on some of the important literary features
which could not be adequately analysed with the other approaches, especially
to provide a clearer picture of the character of HG.26

23  See Maria Haralambakis (Cioată), “A Survey of the Gaster Collection in the John Rylands
Library,” BJRL 89 (2013): 107–30.
24  Gaster, “Two Unknown Hebrew Versions,” 12.
25  Unless otherwise stated, the translations used for citations of the texts will be my own for
HL (based on Gaster’s Hebrew Text; it is a pleasure to thank Philip Alexander for translating
this text with me), Gaster’s for HG, Fitzmyer, Tobit, for GI and GII, Stuckenbruck, “Fagius,”
for HF, and http://vulgate.org for the Vulgate.
26  As my main interest is in the Hebrew tellings, the names of the main characters will be
rendered as they occur in the Hebrew texts: Tobi (the father), Tobiah (the son), Sarah and
Hannah. Tobit will be used to refer to the work. Citations or paraphrases from secondary
literature may follow their usage.
Medieval Hebrew Tellings of Tobit 341

Tobit and Tale Types

“The fact that the Book of Tobit has as its source a folktale or folktales is com-
mon knowledge”27 seems to be a statement of the past. Folktales are missing
from the section dedicated to Tobit’s sources in Perrin’s survey of recent
research.28 The present article is not suggesting that Tobit is a folktale or used
specific folktales as sources. Instead the aim is to try out whether insights from
the study of folklore can be used, by itself or in combination with methods
developed for the study of literature, to shed light on the research questions.
Within folklore studies Tobit’s “claim to fame” is almost entirely due to what
is perceived as the presence of the tale type of “The Grateful Dead.”29 For ex-
ample, Ashliman’s introductory textbook contains a section on “the age of folk
and fairy tales” with a chronological list of “the written record.” It includes the
statement that in “about 200 BCE the story of ‘The Grateful Dead’ (AT 505)
was recorded in the Book of Tobit.”30 Contemporary with Gaster, Gerould listed
Tobit first in his bibliography of “variants of The Grateful Dead,” as one of the
oldest examples of this tale.31
“AT” refers to the Aarne Thompson type index classification system, devel-
oped between 1910 and 1961 to facilitate the comparative study of tales.32 This

27  William Soll, “Tobit and Folklore Studies, With Emphasis on Propp’s Morphology,”
in Society of Biblical Literature Seminar Papers, ed. David J. Lull (Atlanta: SBL Press,
1988), 39–53, 39. In addition to the commentaries by Zimmerman (1958) and Pfeiffer
(1949) mentioned by Soll, examples of studies which consider folklore sources of Tobit
include Moore, Tobit, 11–14, and Lothar Ruppert, “Das Buch Tobias—ein Modellfall
nachgestaltender Erzählung,” in Wort, Lied und Gottesspruch: Festschrift für Joseph Ziegler,
ed. Josef Schreiner (Würzburg: Echter, 1972), 1:109–19.
28  Perrin, “Almanac,” 121–28.
29  Explanation follows on the next page.
30  D.L Ashliman, Folk and Fairy Tales: A Handbook (Westport: Greenwood, 2004), 13.
31  Gordon Hall Gerould, The Grateful Dead: The History of a Folk Story (London: David Nutt,
1908), 7. The esteem of this monograph is attested by the relatively recent re-edition
with introduction by Norm Cohen (Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 2000). On the
other hand, Röhrich stated that studies such as that of Gerould are, for current research,
only useful as collections of material. Lutz Röhrich, “Dankbarer Toter (AT 505–508)” in
Enzyklopädie des Märchens, ed. Kurt Ranke et al. (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1981), 3:306–22, 306.
See also Sven Liljeblad, Die Tobiasgeschichte und andere Märchen mit toten Helfern (Lund:
Lindstedt’s Univ.-Bokhandel, 1927).
32  Antti Aarne and Stith Thompson, The Types of the Folk-Tale: A Classification and a
Bibliography, FFC 184 (Helsinki: Finnish Academy of Sciences, 1961). It is the revision
of Stith Thompson, The Types of the Folk-Tale: A Classification and Bibliography: Antti
Aarne’s Verzeichnis der Märchentypen Translated and Enlarged, FFC 74 (Helsinki: Finnish
342 Cioată

was considered desirable as due to the enthusiastic collecting of tales in the

19th century, a wealth of material had been gathered, and scholars were struck
by what was perceived as similarities between tales.33 In their perception,
as expressed by Gaster, “the same tale occurs with only slight variation from
India to Ireland.”34 The so-called Finnish School, of which AT is a product,
aimed to collect all known variants of a tale type, in order to study its historical
and geographical development.35 The tale type of “The Grateful Dead” in fact
occupies numbers 505 to 508. The basic plot is described as: “a) the hero ran-
soms a corpse from creditors who refuse its burial; (b) the grateful dead man in
the form of an old man, a servant, or a fox later helps the hero on the condition
that they are to divide all winnings.”36 It is often combined to form tale types
such as The Rescued Princess (506), The Monster’s Bride (507 A), The Monster
in the Bridal Chamber (507B), The Serpent Maiden (507C), and The Bride
Won in a Tournament (508). Uther reduced the six tale types in AT to three:
The Grateful Dead (505),37 Prophecy Escaped (506), and The Monster’s Bride

Academy of Sciences, 1927), which is Thompson’s first translation and expansion of Antti
Aarne, Verzeichnis der Märchentype, FFC 3 (Helsinki: Finnish Academy of Sciences, 1910).
Stith Thompson, The Types of the Folk-Tale: A Classification and Bibliography: Antti Aarne’s
Verzeichnis der Märchentypen Translated and Enlarged, FFC 74 (Helsinki: Finnish Academy
of Sciences, 1927). After 2004 the abbreviation ATU is used, due to the revision by Hans-
Jörg Uther, The Types of International Folktales: A Classification and a Bibliography: Based
on the System of Antti Aarne and Stith Thompson, FFC 284–86 (Helsinki: Finnish Academy
of Sciences, 2004). In the introduction, Uther claims to have “eliminated or mitigated” the
“faults” of AT. Uther, Types, 7–8.
33  For clear assessment of what was wrong with many of the collections of tales published in
the 19th century, see Richard M. Dorson, “Introduction: Choosing the World’s Folktales,”
in Folktales Told around the World, ed. Richard M. Dorson (Chicago: University of Chicago
Press, 1975), xvii–xxv.
34  Moses Gaster, Romanian Bird and Beast Stories (London: Sidgwick & Jackson, 1915), 4.
That this notion continued into the 20th century is illustrated by the title of part II, “The
Folktale From Ireland to India,” in Stith Thompson, The Folktale (Berkeley: University of
California Press, 1946), 13–293.
35  Hence historical-geographical method is used as synonym for the Finnish School. On the
development of folklore studies, see for example: Anne Helene Bolstad Skjelbred, “The
Meaning of Folklore,” in Acta Borealia: A Nordic Journal of Circumpolar Societies 8 (1991):
3–12; Francisco R. Demetrio, “From the Brothers Grimm to Heda Jason: an Overview
of Folkloristics,” in Philippine Quarterly of Culture and Society 7 (1979): 3–50; Giuseppe
Cocchiara, History of Folklore in Europe, trans. John N. McDaniel (Philadelphia: Institute
for the Study of Human Issues, 1981); and Regina Bendex, In Search of Authenticity: The
Formation of Folklore Studies (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1997).
36  Aarne and Thompson, Types of the Folk-Tale, 171.
37  He considerably enlarges AT’s description: “one introductory episode is combined with
various main parts in which a man wins a princess and a castle.” The introductory episode
Medieval Hebrew Tellings of Tobit 343

(507). According to Uther, both type 505 and 507 have found their way into the
book of Tobit.38
To a non-folklorist it is difficult to see how Tobit is part of “The Grateful
Dead” tale type, when features which identify the tale type are missing, such
as the creditors, the ghost of the dead man as travel companion, and the insis-
tence on dividing everything in half as reward. Yassif has argued that Tobit’s
core tale type is that of “The Predestined Bride.”39 This tale type, AT 930B, seems
even further removed from Tobit than the “Grateful Dead.” It is described as an
“unavailing attempt to evade fulfilment of prophecy that prince shall marry
peasant girl.”40 Without prophecy, prince, or peasant girl, there is not much
to connect Tobit with this tale type. The resemblance might be the idea of the
union between Tobiah and Sarah as “a match made in heaven” expressed par-
ticularly in Tob 3:16­–17 (God’s response to the prayers of Tobi and Sarah)41 and
6:11–17 (Raphael preparing Tobiah for his marriage with Sarah).42 Interestingly
enough, both HG and HL downplay this theme. In HL the first of these pas-
sages reads: “at this time her cry was heard with the cry of Tobi for together
they prayed. And their cry went up before God and he sent his angel Raphael to
heal and to deliver them from their trouble.” It omits that the union of Tobiah
and Sarah “was destined.”43 HG does not refer to a match made in heaven ei-
ther. What is more, the beginning of the second passage is condensed to: “My
brother, you enter the house of Reuel, who is an old man, and has a daughter
who is exceedingly fair, whose name is Sarah, speak to him that he may give her
to you as wife.” Exploring this passage leads to an observation which is outside
of the domain of tale types and motifs but important for the research question.

is rendered as “While travelling, a man sees a corpse which is not allowed to be buried or
is ill-treated by its creditors. He uses all his money to pay the debts of the dead man and
for his funeral. Later he meets the grateful dead man in the form of a traveling companion
(old man, servant) who wants to help him on the condition that they will divide all their
winnings.” Uther, Types, 289.
38  Uther, Types, 292.
39  Eli Yassif, The Hebrew Folktale: History, Genre, Meaning, trans. Jacqueline S. Teitelbaum
(Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1999), 67.
40  Aarne and Thompson, Types of the Folk-Tale, 326. In ATU “The Predestined Wife,” a subtype
of “Tales of Fate” (930–949), is 930A, which now incorporates 930B–D.
41  Especially in the Greek traditions, “it was destined that Tobiah should have her beyond all
others who wanted to marry her” (GII and GI are similar; HF “for the justice of redemption
was Tobiah’s”).
42  In GII it includes “it has been determined for you to take her in marriage.” GI mentions
that Sarah’s inheritance is “destined” for Tobiah.
43  But in the previous chapter, the narrator explained that the demon killed the husbands
“because they were not destined for her.”
344 Cioată

HG does not mention (neither in this passage nor elsewhere) that Tobiah and
Sarah are related. Ignoring the central theme of endogamy44 may mean that it
needs to be questioned whether HG can still be considered as a telling of the
book of Tobit.
Although thinking about tale types has thus been of some assistance in
making an important observation regarding the research question, it cannot
be said that it is sufficient as a method for assessing different tellings of Tobit.
It is not surprising that a tool which was developed to facilitate the compara-
tive study of tales is of limited use for the close reading of one specific story.45

Close Reading of the Plot of Tobit

A more fruitful approach could be to compare the plot structures in the differ-
ent tellings of Tobit with the morphology developed by Vladimir Propp origi-
nally published in 1928. He described his approach as a more precise way of
classifying tales than earlier attempts, including Aarne’s index.46 Propp’s aim
was to provide a tool for defining the folklore genre of the heroic wonder tale.47
He thus used terminology of kings, princes, princesses, and kingdoms which
are strange to the story of Tobit. Tobit in its present form is clearly not a folk tale,
but a literary narrative, preserved exclusively in written form.48 Nevertheless
an attempt will be made to apply Propp’s morphology with the aim of making

44  See e.g. Devorah Dimant’s contribution to the present volume.

45  It does work very well in Bîrlea’s insightful evaluation of the literary and folklore aspects
in the stories of Ion Creangă. Ovidiu Bîrlea, Poveștile lui Creangă (București: Editura
pentru Literatură, 1967).
46  Vladimir Propp, Morphology of the Folktale, 2nd rev. ed., trans. Laurence Scott (Austin:
University of Texas Press, 1968), 4–15.
47  The importance of genre in the study of folklore cannot be stressed enough. See for
example, Dan Ben-Amos, ed., Folklore Genres (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1976) and
Lauri Honko, “Folkloristic Theories of Genre,” Studies in Oral Narrative, ed. Anna-Leena
Siikala, SF 33 (Helsinki: Finnish Literature Society), 13–28.
48  That Tobit contains “many components that do not fit the fairy tale genre” has also been
recognised by Soll, “Tobit and Folklore Studies,” 49. What Niditch has observed for the
Hebrew Bible also applies to Tobit: “Hebrew Bible is not lore in process, but material
that has been edited and reformulated.” Susan Niditch, Folklore and the Hebrew Bible
(Minneapolis: Fortress, 1993), 31. In other terms, at most it can be considered as “second
life,” produced outside the “system of communication” which maintains an item of folklore
in its original setting. Lauri Honko, Textualising the Siri Epic, FFC 264 (Helsinki: Finnish
Academy, 1998), 18. In contrast, Yassif considers Tobit as “the first real manifestation of the
magic fairy tale.” Yassif, Hebrew Folktale, 65–67.
Medieval Hebrew Tellings of Tobit 345

the plot structure of the different tellings of Tobit visible. Is the basic plot the
same in all tellings, or are there significant differences?
Propp’s morphology has already been applied to Tobit by Soll. From the
perspective of the current study, it is a major issue that Soll does not men-
tion which telling (version, edition, text, translation) of Tobit he uses. He thus
reduces “the book of Tobit” to a sort of abstract entity, rather than explicitly
dealing with concrete witnesses to this text. Another element which can be
questioned is his separate analysis of the three moves which he recognises in
the story of Tobit: one sequence of actions following Tobit’s poverty (“move 1”),
another related to his blindness (“move 2”), and one connected with Sarah’s
misfortune (“move 3”). He presents an application of Propp’s morphology to
each of these moves, recognising fourteen of Propp’s thirty-one functions for
the first, and eleven for both the second and third of his moves. In total, he
found nineteen of the functions.49 In conversation with Soll I will present my
own analysis of the plot of the story as a whole, with a special interest in differ-
ences between tellings. It will become clear that his idea of a “move 1” is par-
ticularly doubtful for HL. I recognise eight of Propp’s functions clearly in the
story, and four with some imagination. As so much of the story cannot be ad-
equately analysed within Propp’s mould, some narratological features which
are important for the research questions will be addressed within the reading
of the plot.50 The structure of this central part of my study follows the classical
plot outline: beginning (“initial situation and preparatory functions”), middle
(“complication and main action”) and end/resolution (“closure”).

Initial Situation and Preparatory Functions (I–VII)51

The first chapter in HG includes what comes fairly close to Propp’s description
of an initial situation. It begins:

49  Blenkinsopp claims that 21 functions are attested, without providing exact details. Joseph
Blenkinsopp, “Biographical Patterns in Biblical Narrative,” JSOT 20 (1981): 27–46, 38.
50  For a brief introduction to narratology, see my monograph based on my PhD thesis. Maria
Haralambakis, The Testament of Job: Text, Narrative and Reception, LSTS 80 (London: T&T
Clark/Bloomsbury), 110–15.
51  Initial situation: the members of a family are enumerated. Functions: I Absentation: A
member of a family leaves the home. II Interdiction: an interdiction is addressed to the
hero (or an order or suggestion). III Violation: the interdiction is violated or the order is
fulfilled. At this point a new character enters the story, the villain. The role of the villain is
to disturb the peace of the family, cause misfortune, damage or harm. IV Reconnaissance:
the villain tries to find out something. V Delivery: the villain receives information about the
346 Cioată

the story (maʿaseh) is told of a man whose name was Tobi, of the tribe
of Naphtali, who in all his days walked in the right path, and performed
many good deeds for his brothers who were with him in the captivity in
Nineveh, and he was left an orphan by his father, and he was brought up
by Deborah his father’s mother, and she led him in the right path. And
when he became a man, he took a wife of his own kindred and family,
whose name was Hannah, and she gave birth to a son, and he called his
name Tobiah.52

Due to the omission of the genealogy and sketch of Tobi’s life before his depor-
tation to Nineveh this initial situation has become closer to a folk tale. HL con-
tains a description of Tobi’s life of good deeds before the exile, but shorter than
in the Greek and HF. Rather than elaborating on what Tobi did with the first,
second, and third tithe, it simply states “all the first fruits of his lands and all
his tithes he was bringing faithfully into the house of the Lord, into his temple
in the third year, the year of the tithe.”53 By omitting or reducing the list, both
of these medieval Hebrew tellings of Tobit thus seem to be uninterested in the
legal approach which is one of the themes discussed by Dimant in her study
in this volume.
In most tellings of Tobit, the “enumeration of the members of the family,”
one of the elements of Propp’s initial situation, is found just before Tobi’s de-
portation. It is a brief mention, as if in passing, that Tobi marries and has a
son. HL expands it, stressing the importance of Tobi’s exemplary behaviour
and the family values transmitted via the story: “And it came to pass that Tobi
grew up and he took a wife from his tribe and her name was Hannah. And she
conceived and she gave birth to a son and she called his name Tobiah. And Tobi
poured out his heart concerning him and he taught him the ways of the Lord.
And he went in the ways of his father from his youth. And he kept himself from
all transgression.”54
Another element of the initial situation as Propp understands it which can
be found in Tobit is “a description of particular, sometimes emphasized, pros-
perity,” in connection with “the sudden arrival of calamity (but not without

victim. VI Trickery: The villain, in disguise, attempts to deceive the victim. VII Complicity:
the victim is taken in by deception, or mechanically reacts to the employment of magical
or other means. Propp, Morphology, 25–30.
52  See footnote 25 for the acknowledgement of the sources of English translations.
53  In the Vulgate he gave all his tithes in the third year to the proselytes and the strangers.
54  Gaster’s translation frequently echoes the King James Version, using thee and thou. In
this passage Anna “was with child and bare a son.” The Vulgate offers a briefer addition on
Tobi educating his son.
Medieval Hebrew Tellings of Tobit 347

a certain type of preparation)” further on in the story.55 Tobi’s elevated posi-

tion during the reign of Shalmaneser is described differently in various tell-
ings, but always as a consequence of “God granting him favour with the king”
on the basis of his behaviour. In HL the king “caused him to rule in all that he
would desire and he went out to do his will in all the kingdom.”56 Tobi is then
presented as traveling and doing good deeds: “And he walked about in all the
cities and in all the fortresses to see the captives and to ask and to seek for their
peace.” In this context, HL explains how Tobi got the money he deposited with
Gabiel, a much larger sum than in other tellings: “And it happened when he
came to Media and there was in his hand a great fortune which the king had
given to him, a thousand talents of silver. And he gathered many Jews from his
tribe. He deposited the money (silver) in the hand of Gabiel and they saw it
and they were witnesses. He gave a sign to be a memorial for the silver.”57 HL
seems to strengthen the plot and improve the story by offering these explana-
tions and expansions.
Although some sort of initial situation can thus be found in the different
tellings of Tobit, the same cannot be said for the first seven functions, which
Propp considered as preparation for the main action. It is not surprising that
these functions are largely absent, since the first chapter of the book of Tobit is
the most dissimilar to fairy tales: it provides an historical and religious context
alien to the genre of fairy tale. Soll does find three of the seven functions for his
“move 1” (poverty) and two for “move 2” (blindness). In his “move 1,” Soll sees
the functions of interdiction (1:17b, 18b), violation (1:18a) and delivery (1:19).58
According to him, “Tobit’s burial of Jews executed by Sennacherib as criminals
is done in violation of the royal will.”59 Only HF, to which he does not refer, has
an explicit interdiction. Unlike the Greek texts, it explicitly states that “the king
had commanded” that the dead Israelites thrown outside the city wall were not
to be buried.60 Rather than trying to find some of the first seven functions, it
seems more appropriate to state that the beginning of the story of Tobit, in the

55  Propp, Morphology, 27.

56  Gaster’s paraphrase captures the sense of this somewhat awkward sentence: “and he
made him master over everything that he wished, and he gave him liberty to do whatever
he wished in the whole kingdom.” The Vulgate only states that Tobi was allowed to do
what he wanted wherever he desired. He then went to help the captives.
57  This is different from the Vulgate, where Tobi saw that Gabiel was in need and gave him
ten talents.
58  In “move 2,” Soll sees an inverted form of interdiction, an indirect suggestion, in Tobiah’s
mentioning of the corpse to his father (2:3). The burial corresponds to function 3 (2:4­–8).
59  Soll, “Tobit and Folklore Studies,” 46.
60  Stuckenbruck, “Fagius,” 196 (1:17).
348 Cioată

different tellings, fulfils the role of preparing for the action, but not exactly in
the way described by Propp.

Complication and Main Action

It is possible to interpret the beginning of the action, the complication in the

plot of the story, in terms of Propp’s function VIII.61 Contra Soll, I suggest that
in Tobit function VIII takes the form of “lack” rather than “villainy.” For Soll, the
misfortune in all three moves is brought on by an agent (a villain): Sennacherib
confiscating Tobi’s property for “move 1,” the sparrows causing Tobi’s blindness
with their droppings for “move 2,”62 and the demon killing Sarah’s husbands
for “move 3.” None of these characters fulfil Propp’s description of villain: “The
villain appears twice during the course of action. First, he makes a sudden ap-
pearance from outside . . . and then disappears. His second appearance in the
tale is as a person who has been sought out.”63 I would thus argue that Tobit
does not contain a villain in Propp’s morphological sense. The misfortunes of
both Tobi and Sarah are best described as “lack”: for Tobi, lack of health (sight),
for Sarah, lack of a husband and children.
The end of ch. 1 and the beginning of ch. 2 are different in HL (and the
Vulgate) to the degree that it not only affects the plot of “move 1,” but annuls
Soll’s distinction between an action arising out of Tobi’s poverty (“move 1”) and
another one as a consequence of his blindness (“move 2”). I would argue that
at least in HL and the Vulgate (if not in Tobit as a whole) what Sennacherib
does to Tobi is part of preparing for the main action, rather than constituting
a plot (move) in its own right. When the king’s orders to kill Tobit and confis-
cate his possessions were made known, in HL “Tobi fled with his wife and his
son and they went barefoot and naked without clothing in the frost without
sustenance.”64 As in the Vulgate, after Sennacherib’s assassination 45 days later,
they returned to Nineveh and Tobi’s property was restored to him, without the

61  “This function is exceptionally important, since by means of it the actual movement of
the tale is created.” VIII Villainy: the villain causes harm/injury to a family member. A
situation of insufficiency or lack leads to similar quests, and is termed VIIIa Lack. Propp,
Morphology, 30–36.
62  Facilitated by Tobi’s falling asleep outside with his face uncovered (function VII,
Complicity).
63  Propp, Morphology, 84. In his presentation of the functions, he makes clear that the villain
is introduced at function III, violation of the interdiction. “His role is to disturb the peace
of a happy family.” Propp, Morphology, 27.
64  The Vulgate is similar, but without the frost.
Medieval Hebrew Tellings of Tobit 349

mediation of Ahiqar, who does not feature at all in HL. This annuls the idea of
a “move 1,” an action arising out of Tobi’s poverty. It also annuls Soll’s idea of a
second initial situation (the beginning of his “move 2”) with the re-union of
Tobi’s family in 2:1, since in HL and the Vulgate they were not separated.
The beginning of the main action, and the “lack” which drives the plot of the
story is Tobi’s blindness. In HG Tobit’s misfortune is not caused by birds and
their droppings. After he buried the corpse found by his son, “he returned to
his house, and he lay upon his bed, and his face was uncovered, and dust fell
from the wall into his eyes.”65 This annuls Soll’s idea of the birds as villains.
Between reading about Tobit becoming blind (function VIII) and dispatch-
ing his son (function IX), the reader encounters a short description of Tobi’s
unhappiness (including the argument with Hannah), prayers of Tobi and of
Sarah, and a wisdom instruction by Tobi to his son. These elements cannot be
analysed in terms of Propp’s functions, but they are important for the devel-
opment of the plot and for the functioning of the story as a well-told edifying
narrative. Chapter 3 introduces Sarah and her story, which is neatly woven into
the main action. HL offers some interesting changes which enhance the role
of both Hannah and Sarah. In 2:1166 instead of “doing women’s work” Hannah
“was wise of heart to do all the work of thought67 and she did for many and she
sustained her husband through the work of her hand.”68 In ch. 3 HL expands
Sarah’s prayer, for example by making her cite from Psalm 1: “I did not sit in the
seat of the scornful.” She does not ask for death but for a husband, the one ap-
pointed for her by God.69 Before recording the text of her prayer, the narrator
explained that she spent three days and nights in the upper room, fasting and
standing in prayer.70 In HG the short prayers of Tobi and Sarah have become

65  Replacing something unbelievable with something more rational has been identified as
one of the characteristics of what happens to an oral narrative (his term for folklore) in
the course of its written transmission history, in another important classic in the study
of folklore, roughly contemporary with Propp: Axel Olrik, Principles for the Study of Oral
Narrative, trans. Kirsten Wolf and Jody Jensen (Bloomington: Indiana University Press,
1992), 21–22.
66  2:15(19) in Gaster’s text.
67  An unusual phrase, the meaning seems to be skilled work. Gaster translates “was
wisehearted to work in all manner of cunning workmanship.”
68  In the Vulgate she “went daily to weaving work, and she brought home what she could get
for their living by the work of her hand.”
69  The prayer is different in the Vulgate, where she begins with asking God to stop the
reproaches, “or else take me away from this earth.”
70  Also in the Vulgate.
350 Cioată

very similar. Both pray “in the anguish of their soul” and prefer death over life
as they are weary of hearing shame/reproach.71
Propp describes function IX as “Mediation: misfortune or lack is made
known; and the hero is approached with a request or command; he is allowed
to go or he is dispatched. This function brings the hero into the tale.”72 Although
Tobiah was already mentioned, it is when Tobi sends him on the journey that it
becomes clear that Tobiah is the hero, at least morphologically. He fulfils func-
tions belonging to the hero in Propp’s system.73
HG does not mention that it was after Tobi prayed for death that he decided
to call his son. Instead a connection is made at the end of the chapter between
Tobi thinking about his death and sending his son, after the drastically reduced
wisdom teaching.74 In HL, after the wisdom instructions,75 Tobi dispatches his
son with the following words:

And now my son, go! And seek my talents of silver (which are) in the
hands of Gabiel in the city of Dago and behold for you the sign which
I gave to him as a memorial for the silver. And do not be afraid because
God is with you wherever you will go if you will keep his commandments.
And do not let the great tribulations which have come upon us alarm you,

71  Tobi: “Lord of the universe! Take my soul from me, for it is better for me to die than to
live, so that I no more shall hear shame.” Sarah: “Lord of the Universe! Thou knowest
that I am pure, and I have not polluted myself with man! I am the only daughter of my
father, neither has he son (sic) to inherit his property, nor any kinsman; and behold, seven
husbands are dead for my sake, and why should I live? But if it please not thee to kill me,
have pity on me that I hear no more reproach!”.
72  Propp, Morphology, 36.
73  I thus agree with Soll on this point (“Tobit and Folklore Studies,” 48). However, in a
narratological analysis it is possible to argue that it is Tobi’s “vision” which is being followed
throughout the story, thus making him the hero, in the sense of the main character. This
was the conclusion of my MA essay on Tobit for the course Jewish Literature of the Greco-
Roman Period, carefully supervised by George Brooke (University of Manchester, 2005).
74  It simply states “at that time Tobi remembered the money which he had committed to the
hand of Gabiel. And he called his son Tobiah, and said to him, My son, fear the Lord thy
God all thy days, and give alms all thy days, and do not walk with a thief or an adulterer,
and set aside thy tithes as is proper, and the Holy One, blessed be He, will give thee great
riches. And now, my son, know that I have committed ten talents of silver to the hand of
Gabiel, and I know not the day of my death; go to him, and he will give thee the money.”
This is all that has remained of ch. 4.
75  In HL the text is shorter than in the better known tellings, but it is enhanced as a wisdom
instruction by a citation from Proverbs at the beginning.
Medieval Hebrew Tellings of Tobit 351

for I trust in the fear of God that we will have great salvation and deliver-
ance. Therefore my son, do not fear.

Since, unlike in other tellings, Tobi gives his son the token (which was already
mentioned in ch. 1) as part of dispatching him, Tobiah does not need to worry
about how Gabiel will recognise him. Instead, he is concerned about finding
the way: “And Tobiah responded to his father and said: everything which you
will say to me I will do. Only teach me and cause me to go on the way that
I will go, for I am alone, how will I go alone to bring the silver?” (5:1).76 Tobi
then sends him out to find a travel companion. HL thus improves the flow of
the story, making a more logical connection between Tobiah’s concern, and
Tobi sending his son to find somebody to go with him. In other tellings, Tobi
responds to his son’s worries by giving him a bond (Greek), a note of his hand
(Vulgate), a book (HF) or a ring (HG). Tobiah expresses his readiness to obey
his father and undertake the journey. This corresponds to function X, the be-
ginning of the counter-action: the hero decides to act in a way that will resolve
the lack.77 Morphologically, Tobiah’s going out to find a travel companion cor-
responds to function XI, departure, even though he does not properly leave
home until a bit later.78 It is at this point that a new character, the donor (or
provider) enters the story. In agreement with Propp, the donor is encountered
accidently. He provides the hero with an agent which enables the resolution,
the liquidation of misfortune.79 It takes a bit of imagination to see functions
XII and XIII in the encounter between Tobiah and his future travel compan-
ion. It is Tobiah who starts the conversation. In HL and the Vulgate he greets
Raphael first, in other tellings he straight away questions the man in front of
him. Raphael responds to the questions.80

76  The Vulgate combines both concerns.

77  Soll sees function IX for his “move 3” in Raphael convincing Tobiah that he should marry
Sarah (6:9–17c), and function X in Tobiah’s willingness to comply. Soll, “Tobit and Folklore
Studies,” 47.
78  Thus proposing a different solution than Soll, who suggests that Tobiah’s departure is
irregular, as it occurs twice, “once when he goes in search of the guide (5:4) and once after
the guide is procured (5:17).” Soll, “Tobit and Folklore Studies,” 46. He sees this function
only for his “move 1” (poverty).
79  Propp, Morphology, 39.
80  Function XII: the first function of the donor: The hero is tested, interrogated, attacked
etc., which prepares the way for his/her receiving either a magical agent or helper.
Function XIII: The hero’s reaction: The hero responds to the actions of the future donor.
The donor greeting the hero and the hero answering this greeting is one of the ten forms
listed. Propp, Morphology, 39–43.
352 Cioată

I agree with Soll’s statement that Raphael/Azariah is both donor and helper.
HL contains an interesting addition that strengthens this idea. Before Tobiah
sees his future travel companion, “not knowing he was an angel from God,”
HL explicitly states that the angel Raphael was sent by God to be a helper.81
The following scenes are not readily captured in Propp’s model: Tobiah tak-
ing the prospective travel companion to his father, the conversation between
Tobi and Raphael, and the beginning of the journey. They are very important to
the plot and are full of the irony so characteristic of this narrative.82 There are
interesting differences between tellings in this part of the story, which cannot
be adequately expressed following Propp’s morphology. Examples include the
dog, which is absent from HG and HL, and the conversation between Tobiah’s
parents, absent from HG. HG lacks the departure scene which is moving in
other tellings especially because of the presence of Tobiah’s mother Hannah
with her tears. The earlier conversations which bring Raphael into the story are
greatly reduced. The level of storytelling is decreased by turning the colourful
dialogues into a rather boring sequence of short questions with even shorter
answers. This is followed straight away with the dry mention that Tobiah and
Raphael “went on their journey.”
Function XIV is the provision of a magical agent.83 For Soll the angel
Raphael, besides being donor and helper, is also the magical agent in “move 1.”
He regards the fish as the donor, albeit a hostile one, for move 2 and 3, making
the organs the magical agents.84 I prefer to consider the fish as the magical
agent for the story as a whole. Raphael helps Tobiah to obtain it by instructing
the young man to kill the fish and preserve its heart, liver, and gall. In most tell-
ings the angel explains how to use the organs to cure both Tobi and Sarah in
response to Tobiah’s questions after they have continued their journey. In HG
the angel explains the benefits of these organs straight after he has told Tobiah
to take the fish, cut it open and take its heart and gall (liver is not mentioned
here). It thus merges the two episodes together in its condensing of the story.
There are differences between the tellings in the geography (6:2) and in the
description of Tobiah’s encounter with the fish (6:3–5). HF does not name
the river, but states that by evening they “came to the city of Laodicea and lodged
there.” Then Tobiah entered the river to cool off his body. A large fish came, took
him and wanted to devour him. He was afraid and cried in a loud voice for help,
“my Lord, save me from this great fish!” Raphael came running to the rescue by

81  Not in Vulgate.

82  But significantly reduced in HG.
83  Propp, Morphology, 43–50.
84  Soll, “Tobit and Folklore Studies,” 46–47.
Medieval Hebrew Tellings of Tobit 353

shouting to him to overpower the fish, “like a man of valour.”85 Strengthened by

this encouragement, the young man killed the fish. In the Greek tradition, he
went into the river (named as the Tigris) to wash himself (GI) or his feet (GII).
The fish had the intention either to swallow the young man (GI) or his foot
(GII). There is no exclamation “my Lord” as part of Tobiah’s cry for help and it
is not mentioned that he was afraid. HL has both elements.86 As in GII and the
Vulgate, Tobiah went into the river Tigris (Hiddeqel) to wash his feet. The great
fish “came out to meet him suddenly to swallow him up.” HG may have consid-
ered it strange that a river fish would eat a human being, so the fish which came
out of the river (Euphrates in this case) ate his bread.87 Whereas the heart, liver,
and gall of the fish fulfil magical functions, the meat of the fish is sustenance for
the travellers, but not in HG, where eating of the fish is omitted. In addition to
mentioning eating fish at that point in the story, GII and HL add that the travel-
lers took a part with them for later consumption. HL, having already mentioned
making provisions for the journey before their departure, states explicitly that
after eating half the fish, they turned the other half into provisions for the jour-
ney, “until their coming to Dage which was in the province of Media.”88 It thus
strengthens the connection between the fish and the next episode.
In HL it is in answer to Tobiah’s question “where shall we lodge tonight”
that Raphael guides Tobiah to the house of Ruel.89 The equivalent in HG, less
appealing from a story telling perspective, has already been cited.90 Raphael
tells Tobiah that he will enter the house of Reuel, and should ask for Sarah as
his wife. In the Greek tellings Raphael announces to Tobiah that they “must
spend the night with” (GI) or “in the house of” (GII) Raguel. HF adds “if you
want.” In any case, the angel facilitates the meeting of Tobiah and Sarah, which
leads to the resolution of the sub-plot relating to Sarah’s lack. In a very down
to earth way, function XV, “guidance,” can be seen here, although the way it is
specified by Propp is much more imaginative than the simple showing of the
way in Tobit.91

85  Stuckenbruck, “Fagius,” 205.

86  The Vulgate also mentions the fear, but the cry for help is different than in HL.
87  See note 66.
88  Also in Vulgate, but there provisions were not mentioned directly at the departure.
89  Similar in Vulgate.
90  At the end of the section “Tobit and Tale Types.”
91  Function XV, guidance, spatial transference between two kingdoms: The hero is
transferred, delivered or led to the whereabouts of an object of search, generally located
in “another” or “different” kingdom. Propp, Morphology, 51–52. Soll sees guidance here
for “move 3.” For “move 1” he considers Raphael’s trip to Media to obtain the money from
354 Cioată

Soll sees two of the next three functions for “move 3” as Tobiah liberates
Sarah from the demon.92 There is no branding (function XVII). It has to be
said that there is not much of a struggle either. After Tobiah burned the heart
and liver,93 the demon fled instantly. The pursuit and binding of the demon
by Raphael is absent from HF and HG. I suggest that it requires a good sense
of imagination to see functions XVI to XVIII in the encounter between Tobiah,
Raphael, and the demon. It is noteworthy that Propp does not mention the use
of the magical agent to obtain the victory. In some tellings of Tobit the role of
prayer is stressed to the extent that one could suggest it is the combination
of burning the organs and praying that secures Sarah’s liberation and the de-
feat of the demon. When Raphael instructs Tobiah on the way to Reuel’s house,
in response to the young man’s worries of becoming killed husband number
eight, HG does not mention prayer. In other tellings, such as GI, GII and HF,
Raphael first tells Tobiah that the demon will flee for good after he has burned
the fish organs. After that, before going to bed, both Tobiah and Sarah should
pray for mercy and deliverance.94 For these tellings it can be suggested that the
prayer seals the healing granted via the burning of the fish organs.95 HL goes
a step further: the role of prayer is expanded and integrated with the burning
of the organs, to become part of the cure. Raphael instructs Tobiah to be with
Sarah in the same room for three nights and three days:

And you will not approach her. And every night you will burn the heart96
in the fire and you will cause the smoke to go up over the bed in which you
will lay and the demon will flee. And on the first night you will remember

Gabiel as the “guidance/spatial transference,” explaining that the helper can sometimes
fulfil functions that belong to the hero. “Move 2” lacks this function.
92  Function XVI, struggle: The hero and the villain join in direct combat. Function XVII,
branding: the hero is wounded, receives a mark on the body, a ring or towel/scarf/kerchief.
Function XVIII, victory: the villain is defeated. In Propp’s list of sub-categories describing
the nature of the struggle and victory there is nothing close enough to how this takes
place in Tobit. Propp, Morphology, 51–53.
93  Only the heart in HG and HL, only the liver in the Vulgate.
94  So GII. HF: “and when you want to speak with her, stand up, the two of you—you and
she—and pray before the Holy One Blessed Be He and say thus, because God is merciful
and gracious and he will have mercy upon you.” GI: “when you approach her, both of you
should get up and cry out to the merciful God; He will save you and have mercy on you.”
95  This is different in HG, where the prayers are not recorded. After the demon fled “both
prayed to the Holy One, who had healed her.” It thus seems a simple prayer of thanksgiving
after the healing.
96  Gaster mistakenly translates “liver.”
Medieval Hebrew Tellings of Tobit 355

the names of the holy patriarchs, on the second night pray to God that
good men will descend from you, and on the third night, do your will
in the fear of your God and he will deliver you.97

The prayers of both Tobiah and Sarah are recorded in the text, with the result
that ch. 8 is much longer than in the other tellings. Giving Sarah a substantial
prayer of her own, rather than making her simply add “amen” to her husband’s
prayers, significantly expands her role in the narrative.98 Tobiah’s prayer in-
cludes a proclamation of the greatness of God by means of an alphabetical
acrostic (8:8 in Gaster’s numbering). The lamed is missing, possibly an error in
the transmission history of the text.
In spite of the aspects in the different tellings of Tobit which cannot be ad-
equately described morphologically, it is the middle section of the narrative
which lends itself relatively well to be described within Propp’s system. It is
much more difficult for the remainder of the narrative, after Sarah’s healing.
Although several more functions can be recognised, they are not in the place
they should be according to Propp’s morphology.99

Closure

A major problem from Propp’s point of view is the fact that the wedding is en-
countered very early in the story, even before what can with some imagination
be perceived as fulfilling function XVIII, the defeat over the villain.100 In Propp’s
morphology the wedding is the last function (XXXI): “The hero is married and
ascends the throne.”101 Soll’s solution remains unconvincing. He considers

97  6:13(18)-16(22) Gaster’s numbering; although the text differs considerably, the Vulgate also
has three nights of “nothing else but praying.” It is well known that oral narrative (folk
tales) prefers the number three “in characters, in objects and in successive episodes.” The
stress is always on the third element. Olrik, Principles, 52.
98  The Vulgate gives Sarah a short and simple prayer “Have mercy on us, Lord, and let us
grow old together in health.”
99  The absence of functions XXI–XXVI (Pursuit, rescue, unrecognized arrival, unfounded
claims, difficult task, solution) is easily explained by the absence of a false hero from
the story of Tobit. There is no exposure (of false hero or villain, function XXVIII) or
punishment (of villain, function XXX). Propp, Morphology, 56–63.
100  Actually this is more accurately described as the healing of Sarah, as morphologically, the
demon does not fit Propp’s description of a villain.
101  Propp, Morphology, 63–64. Propp stressed that the functions always occur in the same
order, 21–22.
356 Cioată

8:19–21 as the wedding for “move 3” (Sarah) and 11:17­–18 for “move 2” (blind-
ness). In both cases it is the last function of the move. Soll’s case is weak, be-
cause even in the Greek texts those passages describe later celebrations, rather
than the wedding itself, which takes place in 7:11–14. In the Greek texts Reuel
calls his wife to bring a scroll, he then writes the marriage contract and seals it.102
In HL the elders of the town were present “and they wrote the words, and they
blessed God and the bridegroom and the bride, and they ate and they rejoiced
with great joy.” This is different from the Vulgate where after Reuel gave Sarah
to Tobiah “they [not specified] made a writing of the marriage.” In HF Reuel
“summoned witnesses, and set her [Sarah] apart in their presence. And they
signed and sealed the document of her marriage contract. And thereupon
they blessed with seven blessings and began to eat.”103 In HG the entire scene
in Reuel’s house before the couple withdraws into their room has been con-
densed to: “Raphael said to Reuel: Give thy daughter to Tobiah for a wife. And
he said: I am willing. And Reuel took his daughter Sarah and gave her to Tobiah
for a wife.” Unlike other tellings, it does not mention celebrations at Reuel’s
house after the healing of Sarah. It thus leaves unexplained why Tobiah sent
Raphael to Gabiel to retrieve the money, rather than going himself. No details
of his journey are mentioned. Straight after his return, he urges Tobiah to go
back to his father. Reuel is not mentioned again. His wife has not been named,
and the maid is omitted completely, thus greatly reducing the contribution of
Tobiah’s in-laws to the story. Of the tellings consulted, only GI specifies that
the fourteen days of festivities of 8:19–21 is a wedding celebration. Both GI and
GII call the celebrations at Tobi’s house, after the return of Tobiah and his wife,
wedding celebrations.104 This is different in other tellings. HF and the Vulgate
mention a seven day feast, without calling it a wedding celebration (11:17–19).
Neither HL nor HG mention a party here.105 These three medieval Hebrew tell-
ings of Tobit thus annul Soll’s idea of a wedding as the closure of his “move 2.”
The celebration after Tobiah’s survival of the wedding night (absent from HG)
marks the resolution of Sarah’s lack. The celebration in Tobi’s house (absent
from HG and HL) marks the protagonist’s triple rejoicing: over his healing, the
return of his son, and the addition of a daughter-in-law to his family.
According to Propp “the narrative reaches its peak” in function XIX, liq-
uidation. This function forms a pair with villainy (function VIII).106 Having

102  In GI “they” sealed it, unspecified.

103  7:13–14, Stuckenbruck, “Fagius,” 208.
104  GII in 12:1; in GI: “Tobiah’s marriage was celebrated with rejoicing for seven days” (11:19).
105  HL mentions it later in the story, in ch. 13.
106  The initial misfortune or lack is liquidated. Propp, Morphology, 53–56.
Medieval Hebrew Tellings of Tobit 357

identified Tobi’s blindness as the lack (rather than villainy) which drives the
main plot, function XIX has to be the resolution of this lack, the return of
Tobi’s sight. This does not take place until the end of the story, ch. 11, after the
return.107 Rather than being the peak of the narrative, it is part of its closure.
The part of the story after the healing of Sarah and before Tobiah’s return can-
not be adequately analysed with Propp’s morphology. I disagree with Soll, who
sees function XV (spatial transference) and XIX (liquidation of misfortune) for
his “move 1” (poverty) in Raphael going to Media to return the money (9:5).
Although not fitting Propp’s mould, ch. 10 is interesting from a story telling
perspective. It seems to expand the return (function XX108). While the festivi-
ties at Reuel’s house are in full swing, the narrator takes the reader to Tobi and
Hannah who are “heavy and wretched,”109 worrying about their son. After this
glimpse at the waiting parents, the reader is brought back to Tobiah, who feels
the need to go home. The entire chapter is absent from HG, again reducing the
level of appealing story telling. Tobiah’s return and Tobi’s healing, described
dramatically in other tellings, is reduced to

and Raphael said to Tobiah: Thou knowest that thou hast left thy
father and thy mother in great pain; now let us go to prepare the house,
and let thy wife come after us. So both of them went. Raphael said to
Tobiah: when thou comest into the house of thy father, take the gall and
put it in the eyes of thy father, and he will be cured. He did so. And Tobi
said to his son: Tell me all that thou hast done. And he told him.

HG refers thus only indirectly to the healing of Tobit, the liquidation of his
lack (function XIX). It is not actually described, as in other tellings. Hannah
does not feature. The description of the homecoming is as dry as that of the
departure. The function of recognition (XXVII) is completely absent. For other
tellings it can be debated whether the greeting scene between Tobit and his
parents following his return agrees with Propp’s description.110 It seems pos-
sible to at least regard it as morphologically fulfilling this function. The mother
recognised her son immediately. The Greek texts and HF mention how she sat
on the road waiting, and when she finally saw him approaching with his travel

107  Function XX: return of the hero. Propp, Morphology, 55–56.

108  Soll identified only 11:1–6 as the return (for both of his moves 1 and 2).
109  HL, in Gaster’s translation.
110  Function XXVII, recognition: The hero is recognized by a mark, a brand (a wound, a star
marking), or by a thing given to him (a ring, a towel) . . . the hero may be recognised
immediately after a long period of separation. Propp, Morphology, 62.
358 Cioată

companion, ran to her husband to give him the news. She then returned to
greet her son, falling on his neck crying, exclaiming “I see you, my boy! Now I
am ready to die.”111 After Tobiah has healed his father as instructed by Raphael,
Tobi’s praises to God include “and behold, now I see my son.” This is also the
case in the Vulgate. There Hannah had the habit of sitting by the road on
the top of a hill. She saw him from a distance, recognising him. She returned
to tell her husband, who came out to meet his son. Both parents kissed their
son and they wept for joy. Then Tobiah healed his father. Tobi, his wife, and all
who knew him praised God. In HL, Tobiah arrived alone. Raphael had stayed
behind with Sarah and the flock. Hannah was not sitting on the road, but did
“perceive him” when he came near. After he heard from his wife that his son is
near, Tobi wanted to run to meet him, but stumbled over a stone and fell, “as
he was blind.” Tobiah lifted his father up as part of their greeting. They wor-
shipped God, praising him loudly. Then Tobiah heals his father according to
Raphael’s instructions. Tobi “rejoiced exceedingly” and Hannah worshipped
God. Her short prayer of thanks is recorded in the text.112 From this it logically
follows that in my opinion it is too narrow to regard only 11:14b-15 (Tobi recog-
nising his son who has just cured his blindness) as the recognition.113 Only in
GII does Tobi exclaim: “I can see you, my child, the light of my eyes!”
I also disagree with Soll that recognition114 can be seen in 12:12–15, Tobi and
Tobiah finding out that the person they hired as travel companion is in fact an
angel. The return of the angel to heaven (12:16–22) is then perceived as trans-
figuration (function XXIX).115 This case is even weaker for HL and non-existent
in HG. In HL after disclosing his identity, Raphael just disappeared, “and they
did not know it, for they feared that they would die, as their eyes had seen an
angel of the Lord of hosts.” In the Vulgate, after the angel “was taken from their
sight, and they could see him no more” father and son were lying prostrate
for three hours, before rising up and proclaiming God’s wonderful works. In
HG the ascent of the angel is not mentioned at all, and he does not reveal his
identity either. The latter half of the story has suffered even more under the
summarising tendency than the first. In Gaster’s edition, ch. 7 includes what
is in other tellings chs. 7 to 14. It occupies less than a page. The historical set-
ting is not referred to at all at the end of the story: no mention is made of the

111  So GI and GII; HF: “I may die now that I have seen you.”
112  “And she said: blessed be the Lord of Israel, who has comforted us and has magnified his
mercy.”
113  This is Soll’s solution for his “move 2,” the action arising out of Tobi’s blindness.
114  For his “move 1,” the action arising out of Tobi’s poverty.
115  “The hero is given a new appearance.” Propp, Morphology, 62.
Medieval Hebrew Tellings of Tobit 359

continuing situation of the exile and Tobit’s prophecy. For Soll, the situation
of exile is important for understanding the flow from “lack” to “liquidation” in
the narrative: after the “lack” has been “liquidated” for all his three moves, the
reader is left with a more chronic lack: the situation of exile itself. A “telling of
Tobit” without much interest in the historical setting might thus be problem-
atic as a telling of Tobit.
In HL the end is missing from the MS which makes it difficult to make pre-
cise observations regarding its closure. The historical setting may or may not
have been referred to at the end of the story. As it now stands, the text breaks
off at the beginning of ch. 14, just after Tobi has called his son (no grandsons
here) to address him before his death. There are some significant differences
compared with the Greek tradition (and HF and the Vulgate) in the last chap-
ters. The speech of Raphael116 and Tobi’s “song of praise”117 are much shorter.
The sequence of events is different. At the end of ch. 11 it is mentioned that
Sarah arrived after seven days (11:13), but this is followed by Tobiah telling his
father about his journey, and the conversation between father, son and the
angel. Tobi’s praise, which follows, is very different and much shorter than in
the Greek. After “all the people” have responded with “amen,” Tobiah is told
that his wife has arrived (13:7). She is greeted, followed by a celebration. Tobi
continues to praise. Unlike the Greek texts and the Vulgate where the praise
is a long monologue, in HL “all the people” interact with Tobi several times.
Tobi’s praise and the celebrations of the safe return of the son, his marriage,
and the healing of the father are interwoven in 13:9–12. The story ends with “all
the people” blessing Tobi, his wife, son and daughter in law, and they go home
joyfully. In HL the “song of praise” is thus part of the closure of the narrative. It
cannot be perceived as a later addition.118
My reading with Propp’s functions has shown that there are some differ-
ences in HG and HL which have implications for the plot in terms of a mor-
phological analysis, particularly as conducted by Soll.119 I have demonstrated
that the separation of Tobi’s story into two plots (moves), one arising out of
his poverty, the other out of his blindness, is questionable, particularly for

116  12:6–20 in the Greek, 12:4–12 in Gaster’s translation of HL.

117  13:1–18 in the Greek; 13:1–6 in HL, possibly also 13:9–10.
118  It has been debated, particularly before the publication of the Qumran Tobit fragments,
whether or not the text originally ended with ch. 12. See Moore, Tobit, 274.
119  In my view, functions VIII, IX, X, XI, XIV, XIX, XX, and XXXI are clearly present in the
various tellings of Tobit, and XII, XIII, XV, and XVIII with some imagination.
360 Cioată

HL.120 I have suggested that Tobi’s blindness fulfils Propp’s function VIII, the
complication, the beginning of the main action in the story. Complicity (func-
tion VII) and villainy caused by the birds (function VIII) are not found in HG.121
Transfiguration (function XXIX) is absent from both HL and HG, while HG
lacks recognition (function XXVII). Raphael guiding Tobiah to Sarah’s house
(function XV) is less explicit in HG, and so is the healing of Tobit (liquidation,
function XIX), as the actual healing is not described. In spite of these impor-
tance differences, the basic plot line of the Tobit story can still be recognised,
even in HG.

Structurally Important Literary Features

Although more precise than tale types, Propp’s morphology (especially with-
out my additions from literary approaches) leaves several important aspects
required for answering my research questions unaddressed. The character
of HG has not yet been fully presented. This can be done more adequately
by applying insights from the new framework for the description of ancient
Jewish literature developed by the project “Typology of Anonymous and
Pseudepigraphic Jewish Literature of Antiquity, c. 200 BCE to c. 700 CE.”122
Based on a close reading of the corpus defined by the project title, a descrip-
tive system was created in the form of the Inventory of Structurally Important
Literary Features (Inventory for short). The features, “points” in the Inventory,
deal with all key aspects of a text. This approach was developed partly as a
reaction to the unsatisfactory labelling of literary genres in scholarly praxis.123

120  As there is no second initial situation (enumeration of the members of the family, in this
case, the dinner at the beginning of ch 2), because in HL the family members were not
separated to begin with (they fled together).
121  This applies to Soll’s “move 2.”
122  The research was conducted at Manchester and Durham Universities and funded
by UK Arts and Humanities Research Council from 2007 to 2011. The “Inventory of
Structurally Important Literary Features of the Anonymous and Pseudepigraphic Jewish
Literature of Antiquity” and the database of profiles of texts can be accessed via http://
www.manchester.ac.uk/ancientjewishliterature. My presentation here is based on the
accompanying monograph: Alexander Samely in collaboration with Philip S. Alexander,
Rocco Bernasconi, and Robert Hayward, Profiling Jewish Literature in Antiquity: An
Inventory (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2013).
123  Plus two more areas of weakness in scholarly practice: too often texts of this corpus are
analysed in isolation, and the focus is on their disunity, there is not enough intuition for
reading the text as a whole. Samely, Profiling Jewish Literature, 4.
Medieval Hebrew Tellings of Tobit 361

Rather than applying an existing genre label, or making up a new one, insight
into what kind of text one is dealing with is gained by considering the com-
bination of literary features encountered in the text. So far this approach has
been used to describe “works” (such as “The Book of Tobit”) based on a specific
“version.” As will be briefly demonstrated here, this typology can also be used
to compare different tellings of a work to assess whether they are the same
“kind of text.” This implies that the individual telling is the text, rather than the
(more abstract) work. Samely defines a text as “a complex verbal entity, usually
a plurality of sentences, or other units of meaning, whose de facto boundar-
ies or verbal and literary signals invite constructing the meaning of any one
of its sentences/units in the light of the meaning of all others.”124 The self-pre-
sentation of the text as a verbal entity is thus fundamental for readers to be
able to experience something as a text. The first of the twelve sections of the
Inventory deals with the way the text speaks about itself (if at all).125 The sec-
ond section considers the perspective of the governing voice, which includes
observations on narration (relevant especially to narrative texts). It is outside
the scope of this article to present full profiles of HG and HL. Instead, my focus
will be on relevant features from the first two sections of the Inventory, es-
pecially the self-presentation of the text and its boundaries. I will include a
couple of remarks from subsequent sections. My short presentation will illus-
trate the extent to which these texts, particularly HG, differ from better-known
tellings of Tobit, exemplified by the Greek “long recension” on which Samely’s
profile of Tobit has been based.126
A structurally important literary feature defining the book of Tobit is the
unexplained change in governing voice.127 In narratological terms, there is a
change from an external narrator to Tobit as a character-bound narrator in 1:3
and back in 3:7.128 In the Vulgate, HL, and HG this change of narrator is absent.

124  Samely, Profiling Jewish Literature, 22.

125  Samely, Profiling Jewish Literature, 13 for a concise explanation of each of the sections.
126  Alexander Samely, “Profile Tobit,” Database for the Analysis of Anonymous and
Pseudepigraphic Jewish Texts of Antiquity, ed. Alexander Samely, Rocco Bernasconi, Philip
Alexander, Robert Hayward (http://literarydatabase.humanities.manchester.ac.uk).
127  Governing voice is a more “neutral” term than narrator, as it also applies to non-narrative
texts. See Samely, Profiling Jewish Literature, 104–5.
128  These terms, introduced by Mieke Bal, are more accurate than the terms “first person”
and “third person” narrator (used in the Inventory), because a speaker who utters text
is grammatically always a first person. An external narrator is narrator only, while a
character-bound narrator embodies both the function of the narrator and of a character
in the story. Mieke Bal, Narratology: Introduction to the Theory of Narrative (Toronto:
University of Toronto Press, 1997), 22. Bal’s terms correspond with Genette’s homodiegetic
362 Cioată

The entire story is told by an external narrator, an anonymous governing voice

in the terminology of the Inventory. These tellings have thus disposed of a “fea-
ture that weakens the coherence of a text,” at least in the reading of modern
scholars.129 It also follows that these “tellings of Tobit” are of a “different kind”
than the long Greek recension. A significant number of points that apply in
Samely’s profile of Tobit related to this unexplained change of governing voice
do not apply to HL and HG (nor to the Vulgate).130
An important difference between HG and other tellings of Tobit is that
here the story does not stand on its own. In other tellings of Tobit the text
refers to itself as a verbal entity by using at the beginning a genre term such as
“book of the words of Tobit” (in the Greek tradition).131 HM and HF have “this
is the book of Tobit,” HL has “words of Tobit.”132 In addition to omitting the
word “book,” HL and HG do not have the angel’s instructions in 12:20 to “write
down all that has happened.”133 These two tellings thus lack “the indirect claim
that the text contains a totality,”134 and a possible statement of the purpose of
the book.135
HG also characterizes itself as a bounded entity, but in a very different way.
Its genre term, maʿaseh, occurs only in line nine of Gaster’s Hebrew text,136 not
at the beginning. The narrative of Tobit is sandwiched into a thematic dis-
course around the theme of tithing. The text as a whole is marked as bounded
by an inclusio, the use of the same exhortation at the beginning and the end:
“you shall surely tithe all the produce of your seed.”137 Before the story of Tobit
is presented, the audience is instructed on tithing, and Hos 2:11 is cited. Then
Rabbi Levi cites Prov 28:22 and it is mentioned that he told a story about a
man who “brought out his tithes in a proper manner . . . Therefore Moses
warned the Israelites to tithe surely.” This looks like an introduction to the

(character-bound) and heterodiegetic (external) narrator. Gérard Genette, Narrative

Discourse: An Essay in Method, trans. Jane E. Lewin (Ithaca: Cornell University Press,
1980), 248.
129  Ancient audiences might not have experienced these features as problematic. Samely,
Profiling Jewish Literature, 26–27.
130  Namely points 1.1.4, 2.2 with nine sub-points, 2.3, and 4.14 with three sub-points. Samely,
“Profile Tobit.”
131  Point 1.1.1.
132  In the Vulgate there is no genre term, and no list of names either.
133  In the Vulgate they are to “bless God and narrate all his wonderful works.”
134  Samely, “Profile Tobit,” point 1.1.3.
135  See Samely, “Profile Tobit,” point 1.1.2.
136  More than halfway down the first page in his English translation.
137  Point 1.4, an implicit signal for its boundaries.
Medieval Hebrew Tellings of Tobit 363

story of Tobit, which is then introduced again as: “the story (maʿaseh) which
was of a man and his name was Tobi.” It is not completely clear, but it seems
that the summary of the story of Tobit is placed into the mouth of Rabbi Levi,
although as indirect speech. After the narrative, Tobi is explicitly identified as
an example of proper behaviour, and the Patriarchs and Moses are invoked
as sources of authority. The closing sentence of the first introduction to the
narrative (clearly attributed to Rabbi Levi) occurs again as part of the closing
statement of the text: “therefore Moses warned Israel, saying to them: you shall
surely tithe all the produce of your seed.” That the thematic discourse on tith-
ing preceding and following the drastically condensed story of Tobit should
be seen as an integral part of the text is further suggested by the use of “our
sages” both in the so-called “prologue,” and in “the story of Tobit proper.” The
first time it occurs, “our sages say: ‘you shall surely tithe,’ which means . . .” In
ch. 3, after Sarah’s prayer, “our sages say that” God accepted their prayers and
decided to send the angel Raphael.
Another argument for the unity of the text is the indication of its usage.
Its setting is suggested both by the heading and by an indication of the pres-
ence of the “projected addressee”138 in ch. 2 of the story of Tobit. The text has
a heading: “for the second day of shevuot,” which seems to confirm Gaster’s
identification of the text as a homily. In the story of Tobit, after Tobiah has told
Tobi about the corpse in the street, the narrator addresses the reader/audi-
ence with “and what did his father do?” This is a kind of device to maintain
the attention of the audience. It seems to soften the boundaries between “oral”
and “written.”
I argue that the “text” of this telling of Tobit is all three parts together, the
opening thematic discourse, the summary of the Tobit story, and the clos-
ing thematic discourse. The reader, or audience, is invited to construct the
meaning of any one of its sentences in the light of the meaning of all others.139
It is thus inappropriate to separate the “story of Tobit” from what has been
perceived as a “prologue” and an “epilogue” on tithing.140
As promised in the introduction to this part of my article, to round of this
engagement with the inventory, I will offer a very brief selection of examples

138  “The ideal reader as invoked by the text itself, defined by what knowledge the text takes
for granted or how it addresses itself to someone.” Samely, Profiling Jewish Literature, 90.
139  To return to Samely’s definition of “text” cited earlier.
140  Weeks, Gathercole, and Stuckenbruck do not include “the prologue” as part of the
text in their synopsis. They do present it with a translation in their introduction to the
manuscript (pp. 40–41). In the text of the synopsis, the narrative part beginning with
maʿaseh has become 1:1.
364 Cioată

from beyond its first two sections. Many of the differences between tellings
which featured in my close reading of the plot, can also be described with
points from the Inventory, especially from sections 4 (which relates particu-
larly to narrative texts), 7, and 8. For example, the absence of Ahiqar from HL
means that point 7.1.9 does not apply: there are no “characters or events which
presuppose an extra-biblical narrative-chronological framework.” Tobi’s hymn
of thanksgiving in ch. 13, is absent from HG. In HL, as was explained at the
end of the close reading of the plot in the previous section, the text remains
in prose.141 As a consequence, point 4.13.4 is absent. The drastic condensation
and with that, the reduction in the level of story telling in HG has further im-
plications in terms of the Inventory. “The narrative motif of the fantastic, gro-
tesque, or gross” (point 8.3.7) is absent, since the bird droppings have been
replaced by dust. Most of the examples of humorous or ironic motives which
Samely lists in his profile of Tobit are absent (point 8.3.8). The use of a gap be-
tween the knowledge of the reader and the characters in the story is reduced
(point 8.3.9), mainly due to the shortening of the dialogues.
In terms of the Inventory HL and HG (and also the Vulgate) are clearly “dif-
ferent kinds of text” compared with the long Greek, already simply due to the
absence of a crucial point such as the lack of change in governing voice. In
addition, HG defines itself as bounded in a completely different way from the
other tellings. The story of Tobit does not stand on its own, but is integrated
within a thematic discourse on tithing. The story seems to be placed in the
mouth of Rabbi Levi. HG thus creates a different persona for the governing
voice. It also assumes and projects a different horizon of knowledge, for ex-
ample by using the term maʿaseh and appealing to “our sages.”142

Conclusion

How one answers the question of whether the medieval Hebrew tellings of
Tobit are still “versions” of Tobit or something else, depends on which crite-
ria and/or approaches one uses. As the previous section showed, with a liter-
ary approach such as the Inventory, the conclusion would be that both HG
and HL (and also the Vulgate) are something else, different kinds of text. If
one looks mainly at the plot, HL probably leaves enough of the story intact to
be considered as a telling of Tobit, but this might not be the case for HG due

141  In other words, it does not employ “a different, poetic, style,” Samely, “Profile Tobit.”
142  This relates to the shared knowledge taken for granted in the text. Samely, Profiling Jewish
Literature, 101.
Medieval Hebrew Tellings of Tobit 365

to the drastic abbreviation of the story. Another argument for “disqualifying”

HG as a telling of Tobit would be based on form and aesthetics. Not much has
been left of Tobit as an attractively told story. Humour and irony play a much
smaller role than in other tellings. From the perspective of story-telling, it can
be questioned whether this dry listing of a sequence of events is still the story
of Tobit. If one’s main interest is the presence of key motifs and themes, for
both tellings it can be questioned whether they are still the story of Tobit, but
again especially for HG. This can be illustrated via summaries of the Tobit story.
For example Blenkinsopp’s summary contains several components which are
absent from (or greatly reduced in) one or both of Gaster’s Hebrew versions,
such as “Tobit is reinstated via the mediation of his nephew Ahiqar” (absent
from HL), “Tobias and Raphael set off accompanied by the father’s blessing
and the mother’s tears” (absent from HG), “Fish leaped out to devour Tobias”
(his bread in HG), “Raphael revealed his true identity” (absent from both).143
In addition, the absence of the key theme of endogamy and the lack of interest
in the historical setting of the exile at the end of the text are other important
thematic arguments to question HG as a “version” of Tobit. The use of the genre
label maʿaseh might be the strongest argument for deciding that HG is not to
be considered as a telling of the book of Tobit. This label firmly places it in the
context of post-biblical Rabbinic Judaism, further enhanced by the thematic
discourse on tithing which is part of the text, and the heading “for Shavuot.”
A solution might be to refer to HG as “the maʿaseh of Tobit,” rather than
as a telling of the book of Tobit. Another solution (compatible with the first)
could be to think in terms of Tobit traditions, rather than of texts. Brooke has
observed that “the process from text to tradition is far from straightforward.”144
He recognises the role of translations in enhancing traditions, “particularly the
ways in which they make texts from the past available to contemporary read-
ers and listeners.”145 More research is needed on the use of Apocrypha and
Pseudepigrapha in Jewish life in the Middle Ages and later, as evidenced by the
existence of (re)translations into Hebrew and Aramaic, and also translations
into Yiddish. As the present study has illustrated, research on the textual and
transmission history of a work such as Tobit has to rely on interdisciplinary

143  Blenkinsopp, “Biographical Patterns,” 37. Taking the different tellings of Tobit seriously
has implications for the way the story is summarised. Summaries are often (without
indication) based on long Greek, and not all the elements listed are present in all tellings.
144  George J. Brooke, “The Formation and Renewal of Scriptural Tradition,” in Biblical
Traditions in Transmission: Essays in Honour of Michael A. Knibb, ed. Charlotte Hempel
and Judith M. Lieu (Leiden: Brill, 2006), 39–59, 46.
145  Brooke, “Formation and Renewal,” 43.
366 Cioată

scholarship, since the ancient works are often preserved in medieval manu-
scripts (and early printed books), Jewish and Christian (especially Eastern
Orthodox). Although folklore methods may have limited use for the close
reading of individual texts, some familiarity with folklore studies could remind
biblical scholars, who are predominantly focused on text (and Urtext), of the
life of the ancient stories. More than in the present study, a recommendation
for future research with insights from folklore studies would be to think more
about how the different tellings of Tobit might have been used and told in vari-
ous communities. Such a study should include the telling in the collection of
Apocrypha ʾOtsar Haqqodesh (H7), and Yiddish Tobit traditions. As part of his
call to abandon the search for an Urtext, Brooke has pointed to a focus on the
role of a text in a particular social context.146 It seems that the Hebrew (and
Yiddish) tellings attested in manuscripts and early print known to date fulfilled
different functions. According to Gaster, in Jewish contexts Apocryphal texts
were “treated as books to be read for education and entertainment, and some
of them have been introduced into the service of the synagogue. They formed
often the Homily for the festivals and memorable days . . . they belong to the
profane literature of tales.”147 He then explains that Apocryphal texts were
often translated into vernacular languages (Greek, Arabic, Yiddish, Ladino)
and circulated as single tales or as collections, in Hebrew alone or with transla-
tion “and thus they became popular chap-books.”148 For Tobit, he stresses that
it became “a very popular tale” which was “reprinted over and over again” and
translated into Yiddish.149 In contrast, the archaising and biblicising language
(at least in HL, HF, and the telling preserved in the collection of apocrypha
called ʾOtsar Haqqodesh (H7)150) seems to indicate different usages for those
traditions.
Perrin opened the conclusion of his survey of recent scholarship on Tobit
observing that “research on the book of Tobit is alive and well in the twenty-first

146  George J. Brooke, “The Demise of the Distinction between Higher and Lower Criticism” in
George J. Brooke, Reading the Dead Sea Scrolls: Essays in Method (Atlanta: SBL Press, 2013),
1–17, 10–11.
147  Moses Gaster, “The Apocrypha and Jewish Chap-Books,” Journal of Apocrypha (1917), repr.
Studies and Texts, 280–87, 281.
148  Gaster, “Apocrypha,” 282.
149  Gaster, “Apocrypha,” 283. For reference to various editions of Tobit in Yiddish, Seyfer
Tuvyo, including one printed in Wandsbek in 1728, see Brad Sabin Hill, “Scandinavia and
Yiddish Booklore,” in Yiddish Culture in the Twenty-First Century, ed. Jan Schwarz and
Marion Aptroot (forthcoming).
150  Based on the description in Weeks, Gathercole, Stuckenbruck, Book of Tobit, 42–44.
Medieval Hebrew Tellings of Tobit 367

century.”151 The connection with folklore, the medieval Hebrew witnesses,

and the reception and use of Tobit in various communities are absent from
his study. Most of the contributions surveyed focus on the Qumran Hebrew
and Aramaic tellings and the question to the hypothetical “original text” and
language of Tobit. The present study has broadened the scope of research on
this ancient narrative. The medieval witnesses to Tobit do not need to be as
marginal as they currently are. Applying insights from Fish, that a text does
not exist outside of the “interpretative communities,” can help to “rehabilitate”
the later witnesses to Tobit.152 It is hoped that the next survey of research on
Tobit will include the Jewish medieval and early modern Tobit traditions (in
Hebrew, Aramaic and Yiddish); if not as part of the survey of literature, at least
as a recommendation for future research.

151  Perrin, “Almanac,” 133.

152  Fish, Is there a Text, 13–15.
 Part 5
Old Texts, New Insights

∵
Some Thoughts on the Relationship between the
Book of Jubilees and the Genesis Apocryphon

James C. VanderKam

Introduction

The Genesis Apocryphon and the book of Jubilees are two very early examples
of rewriting Genesis. The relationship between them has been a subject of de-
bate for six decades. The present essay is meant to be a small contribution to
the wider discussion of the complicated topic.*

The Two Works

The surviving parts of the Genesis Apocryphon (Apocryphon hereafter) begin

by representing and embellishing pre-flood material from Genesis and contin-
ue as far as the covenant-making scene in Genesis 15. The book of Jubilees is far
more comprehensive in scope. The author begins his rewriting with Genesis
1 and carries on through the end of Genesis to the covenant-making at Mt.
Sinai in Exodus 19–24. So, Jubilees covers the sections of Genesis that occupy
the Apocryphon and much more. Anyone who reads the ways in which the
two compositions treat the parts of Genesis that they rework can easily spot
a series of features shared by them. Their common store of names, themes,
and more have led experts to the conclusion that the two works are related in
some way. It is not impossible that the compositions originated completely
independently of each other, that is, that neither author consulted the work
of the other and that the identical elements in their works arose in another
way as they interpreted the base text. That possibility has not, however, found
backing among those who have commented on the issue. In a society in which
the number of people capable of writing such learned compositions would
have been small, it is more likely that whoever was the later writer of the two
was aware of the work of his predecessor or of his source(s) and made use

*  It is a pleasure to contribute to a volume in honour of George Brooke whose scholarship has

contributed immensely to the study of ancient Jewish readings of Genesis and to so many
more subjects.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ���7 | doi ��.��63/9789004344532_021

372 VanderKam

of it (them) in treating shared stories from Genesis.1 The language difference

between them—Aramaic for the Apocryphon and Hebrew for Jubilees—pre-
sumably would not have presented a problem. And, whatever may have been
the history of the two books beforehand, the small community who collect-
ed the manuscripts found in the Qumran caves possessed one copy of the
Apocryphon and fourteen of Jubilees. So at this time at least the two were pres-
ent in the same place.

The Beginnings of the Discussion

The subject of the relationship between the Apocryphon and Jubilees has been
discussed ever since N. Avigad and Y. Yadin published several columns of the
former in 1956. The editors identified a number of parallels between the two
works: examples are the name Batenosh for Lamech’s wife and Lubar for the
mountain on which the ark landed. In connection with the story about Noah’s
vineyard, they commented: “Since the version in the scroll is fuller and more
detailed than that in Jubilees, the former gives the impression of having pos-
sibly been a source on which the writer of Jubilees drew.”2 At the conclusion of
their survey of the scroll’s contents and parallels in various sources, they wrote:
“For the time being, however, we may confidently emphasize the close con-
nection between the scroll and many parts of the Book of Enoch and the Book
of Jubilees, leading at times to the conclusion that the scroll may have served
as a source for a number of stories told more concisely in these two books. In the
light of this assumption, it is particularly difficult to fix the date of the scroll’s
composition, which must have been contemporary with or previous to the date
of the composition of Jubilees, the Book of Noah.”3 They assigned a fairly late
date to the scroll—“the end of the first century B.C. or the first half of the

1  In his essay “Which Is Older, Jubilees or the Genesis Apocryphon?” (in his A Walk through
Jubilees: Studies in the Book of Jubilees and the World of its Creation, JSJSup 156 [Leiden:
Brill, 2012], 305–42, 309), James Kugel comments: “In the case of Jubilees and the Genesis
Apocryphon, however, the sheer quantity of common material and their agreement on min-
ute details suggests that they are genetically related—father and son, or two sons of the same
father.” This essay appeared earlier under the title “Which Is Older, Jubilees or the Genesis
Apocryphon? An Exegetical Approach,” in The Dead Sea Scrolls and Contemporary Culture,
ed. Adolfo D. Roitman, Lawrence H. Schiffman, and Shani Tzoref, STDJ 93 (Leiden: Brill, 2011),
257–94. References in the present essay are to the 2012 volume.
2  Nahman Avigad and Yigael Yadin, A Genesis Apocryphon: A Scroll from the Wilderness of
Judaea (Jerusalem: Magnes and Heikhal Ha-Sefer, 1956), 21.
3  Avigad and Yadin, Genesis Apocryphon, 38.
the Book of Jubilees and the Genesis Apocryphon 373

first century A.D.”—on two grounds: their own paleographical analysis of the
scribal hand and Y. Kutscher’s dating of the Aramaic in the scroll; but they
believed that the Apocryphon itself could have been considerably older.4 If so,
one would have to assume that a copyist changed an earlier form of Aramaic
to a later one or, another possibility they considered, hypothesize that it is a
translation of an earlier Hebrew work. It is not easy to find any grounds for the
first assumption, and the nature of the language does not suggest that it is a
translation.5 Avigad and Yadin’s paleographical dating of the scribal hand has
been confirmed repeatedly in subsequent years, and the results of Accelerator
Mass Spectrometry analysis point to a similar time frame for the date of the
parchment.6 If the author wrote the composition at the time suggested by
these dates, the question of the relationship between the Apocryphon and
Jubilees could have been settled quickly, since it is very likely that Jubilees was
written in the second century BCE. If the Apocryphon is a first-century (BCE or
CE) composition, it could not have been a source for Jubilees.
The assessment of the Aramaic in the Apocryphon has changed since
Kutscher’s work. In part this is due to the availability of more Aramaic com-
positions from Qumran with which it can be compared and in part because
of reevaluations of the Aramaic of Daniel. After surveying the newer evi-
dence, D. Machiela concluded: “Given the culmination of evidence, it seems
time to adjust the linguistic terminus post quem of the Genesis Apocryphon
from the 1st cent. BCE to at least the early 2 cent. BCE.”7 If the language of the
Apocryphon is that old, it becomes a possible source for Jubilees.

Similarities and Differences

The numerous features on which the two works agree should be set within a
larger context. The Apocryphon is partially preserved on one badly damaged

4  Avigad and Yadin cited Kutscher’s then still unpublished conclusion that the Aramaic of
the scroll dated to the first century B.C. or the first century A.D. (Avigad and Yadin, Genesis
Apocryphon, 38). For the published form of Kutscher’s essay, see “The Language of the Genesis
Apocryphon: A Preliminary Study,” in Aspects of the Dead Sea Scrolls, ed. Chaim Rabin and
Yigael Yadin, SH 4 (Jerusalem: Magnes, 1958), 1–35.
5  So Joseph A. Fitzmyer, The Genesis Apocryphon of Qumran Cave 1 (1Q20): A Commentary,
3rd ed, BibOr 18/B (Rome: Pontifical Biblical Institute, 2004), 28.
6  See, e.g., the summary in Fitzmyer, Genesis Apocryphon, 25–26.
7  Daniel A. Machiela, The Dead Sea Genesis Apocryphon: A New Text and Translation with
Introduction and Special Treatment of Columns 13–17, STDJ 79 (Leiden: Brill, 2009), 140.
Translations of the Apocryphon in the present essay are from this volume.
374 VanderKam

manuscript. Much of the text on even the surviving sheets is irretrievable, and
the beginning and end of the scroll are not extant. Hence, if there was a state-
ment near the beginning about why the author wrote the Apocryphon—as
there is in Jubilees 1—it is not available. Moreover, the legible portions of the
text are of such a nature that it has been difficult to identify the central purpose
or major concern(s) of the author in his rewriting of Genesis.8 Consequently,
there is much uncertainty about whether a given feature or motif is an essen-
tial element in the teaching of the author or if it has a more incidental status.
The reasons why the author of Jubilees wrote his book are better known.

Similarities between the Apocryphon and Jubilees9

Avigad and Yadin isolated a series of parallels between the two works;10 these
range from single words such as names to entire stories. They noted them ac-
cording to the order of the scroll. Here it will be more useful to divide them
into three categories and to augment their presentation. The purpose is to ad-
duce much evidence briefly, despite the fact that many of the entries in the
list require more nuanced analysis to appreciate fully their contribution to
the topic.

1. Names: There are several names in the scroll that are known from Jubilees
(and at times from other sources), but from no earlier text.
a. Batenosh (2:3, 8, etc.): Genesis names no wives of the patriarchs in the
first twenty generations apart from Eve11 and Sarai (Gen 11:29). Jubilees,
in which documenting the purity of the chosen line is an important

8  See the summary of various proposals in Fitzmyer’s discussion of its genre, Genesis
Apocryphon, 16–25. He calls the Apocryphon “an example of pre-Christian Jewish narra-
tive writing” and thinks it “is hardly likely that this text was used in liturgical services as
a targum, but it was most likely composed for a pious and edifying purpose” (20). Such a
purpose, of course, could have motivated writers of many kinds of texts and yields little
of value for understanding the writer’s particular goals. Cf. also the comments of Kugel,
“Which Is Older?” 308–9.
9  For another list including the major similarities, see Machiela, The Dead Sea Genesis
Apocryphon, 13; Kugel (“Which Is Older?” 312–32), too, offers discussions of several impor-
tant agreements and disagreements.
10  The references to Jubilees appear in their survey of “The Contents of the Scroll” (Avigad
and Yadin, Genesis Apocryphon, 16–37).
11  Adah and Zillah are named as Lamech’s wives in Gen 4:19–24, but the Lamech here is the
one in the J genealogy, not the one in the P genealogy of Genesis 5.
the Book of Jubilees and the Genesis Apocryphon 375

theme, supplies names for all of them, including Batenosh as Lamech’s

wife (4:28).
b. Emzera (6:7): Noah’s wife has the same name in Jubilees (4:33).
c. Geographical names: In the sections about the division of the earth
after the flood, the two compositions share a number of names not
found in Genesis or elsewhere in the Hebrew Bible (just one reference
is given for each name; in some cases they occur more often):
Mahaq Sea (16:9: Jub. 8:22)
Tina River (16:15; Jub. 8:12)
Mount Lubar (12:13; Jub. 5:28)12
Erythrean/Red Sea (17:7–8; Jub. 8:21)
Gadeira (16:11; Jub. 8:26)
2. Chronology: Jubilees received its most familiar name from the fact that
throughout the book the author dates events with a system based on
units called jubilees (49 years each), weeks of years, and years. The Apoc-
ryphon at times works with the same chronological terms (the length
of a “jubilee” is not defined in it), yielding the same results where they
can be checked. A heptadic chronology is not, however, so frequent and
marked a feature in it as in Jubilees.
a. General notations in broken contexts
ten jubilees (6:10, in a context mentioning taking wives for Noah’s
sons), this entire year, and the jubilee (7:3)
in your week (8:16), and according to its week (8:18), its week (7:19),
and about three weeks (8:20)
b. Specific dates
fourth year when Noah harvested the grapes from his vineyard, the
fifth year, first month, first day when he drank the wine (12:13–15;
Jub. 7:1–5)
early years following the arrival of Abram and Sarai in the land
(both texts build on chronological notes in Genesis [12:4; 16:3, 16];
see below for a study of the details).
3. Shared Stories or Themes
a. The angel story before the flood (both have elements such as the
descent “in the days of Jared” [3:3; Jub. 4:15])

12  Mount Lubar is not named in the map sections of Jubilees, although it was the place
where Noah lived when the division of the earth between his sons took place and it is
mentioned in several places (e.g., 5:28; 7:1).
376 VanderKam

b. Enoch remains at a place on earth after his final removal from human
society (at least col. 5; Jub. 4:23–26)13
c. Marriage with the appropriate mates (6:7–9; 12:9–12; throughout
Jubilees)
d Noah makes atonement for the earth with a sacrifice (10:13–17;
Jub. 6:1–3)
e. Cities built near Lubar after the flood (12:8–9; 14:11–17; Jub. 7:13–17)
f. An elaborated account of the story about Noah’s vineyard (12:13–17;
Jub. 7:1–5; cf. 7:35–37)
g. Division of the earth among Noah’s sons and grandsons (15:?–17:?; with
14:15–22; Jub. 8:11–9:15); here the parallels are extensive and detailed.
Machiela highlights these six that, he says, “compellingly demon-
strate that they are based on nearly identical exegetical approaches to
Gen 10.”14
(1) a two-fold literary structure: division by Noah among his sons
Shem, Ham, and Japheth, division by his three sons to their
sons (sixteen of them)
(2) shared geographical terms from the Ionian World Map, not from
Genesis 10 (e.g., tongues/gulfs, Meat and Mahaq seas)
(3) Tina and Gihon rivers as the borders between the three conti-
nents belonging to the three brothers
(4) Similar formulas at the beginning and end of the sections in the
first division
(5) basic correspondence in the territories assigned to the sons and
grandsons
(6) common apologetic background—pre-Canaanite possession of
the Levant by the Shemite ancestors of Israel.15

13  Both a. and b. are shared with parts of 1 Enoch. For the angels’ descent in the days of Jared,
see 1 En. 6:6; for Enoch at a distant place on earth, see 1 Enoch 106–107.
14  Machiela, The Dead Sea Genesis Apocryphon, 126. There he also writes that they are not
“completely independent exegetical traditions.”
15  Machiela, The Dead Sea Genesis Apocryphon, 126. The material in the Apocryphon regard-
ing Canaan’s usurpation of Shem’s territory is, however, presented in a different context
than in Jubilees—in a dream seen by Noah (see 14:9–22; Jub. 10:27–34).
the Book of Jubilees and the Genesis Apocryphon 377

Differences between the Apocryphon and Jubilees

Despite similarities in matters small and large (details, motifs, stories), the
features that distinguish them, one from the other, leave a more powerful im-
pression. These differences range from complete sections present in one and
absent from the other to details or notes within what appear to be uniquely
shared units. Below is a list of differing elements; it is followed by two test cases
in which there is a more extended discussion of a difference that has been
claimed as decisive for determining which text came first, and another that is
actually more telling about the direction of borrowing (if there was one).

1. Presence or absence of entire sections: In his outline of the Apocryphon,

Fitzmyer divides it into sections centering on Noah (cols. 0:?–17:?) and
Abram (18:?–22:34).16 In the Noah part he finds five units of which Jubilees
lacks one entirely: 2:1–5:?, Lamech’s Anxiety about the Conception of His
Son. Jubilees has some material corresponding to Fitzmyer’s first Noah
unit (0–1:28, Depravity of Humanity and Noah’s Birth), but it shares vir-
tually nothing of its content. It can safely be said that the Apocryphon’s
treatment of the pre-flood sin and the descent of the angels and its af-
termath was longer than it is in Jubilees. In addition, Jubilees lacks the
lengthy units devoted to Noah’s dream or dreams (the author of Jubilees
avoids symbolic dreams). In the Abram section Fitzmyer finds six units.
Using the third one of them as an example—Abram in Egypt 19:10–
20:33a—Jubilees lacks several of its constituent parts such as Abram’s
dream on entering Egypt (19:14–23a) and the description of Sarai’s beauty
(20:2–8a).
2. Literary form: Whereas Jubilees, in its reworking of Genesis 1–15, infre-
quently allows a character first-person speech of any length (there is an
exception in Noah’s long address in 7:20–39), such discourse is a defining
trait in the Apocryphon. As a result, the two have a decidedly different
literary framework: Jubilees is the report of a narrator—an Angel of the
Presence—to Moses regarding the actions of the characters in the story;
the Apocryphon takes the form of their first-person address to the reader.
3. In sections or traits common to the two works, there are noteworthy
differences.
a. The angel story: It was evidently extensive in the Apocryphon and very
little in that large section seems to have a direct parallel in Jubilees.

16  Fitzmyer, Genesis Apocryphon, 46.

378 VanderKam

One major distinction is the attention to Noah’s birth, the lively dis-
cussion between Lamech and Batenosh about the conception of the
child, and the subsequent appeal to Enoch (cols. 2–5)—none of this is
present in Jubilees (there is a closer parallel in 1 Enoch 106–107, but it
too lacks the dialogue between Lamech and his unnamed wife).
b. Noah’s vineyard: The two texts tell pretty much the same story about
the vineyard: nothing was done with the fruit growing on the vines
in the first three years, in the fourth Noah harvested it, but he waited
to drink the wine from the grapes until the fifth year, the first day of
the first month in it (12:13–16; Jub. 7:1–5). The close agreement in de-
tail here is compatible with direct use of one text by the other,17 but
Jubilees alone adds a legal treatment of the material about the fourth
year planting toward the end of the same chapter (vv. 35–37), a section
that some see as in conflict with the one in 7:1–5 but which may be
consistent with it.18
c. The Map section: Though the resemblances are so impressive the two
works also go their own ways in several respects even in this section.
Machiela lists three categories of differences between the two.
(1) the order in which some of the sons and grandsons appear in the
texts: the Apocryphon, Jubilees, and Genesis 10 present them in
three different orders (though it depends which part of Genesis
10 is being compared); for the sons of Shem again the three works
have different orders
(2) the general brevity of the unit in the Apocryphon compared with
the one in Jubilees
(3) others: here he lists eight additional differences, such as the direc-
tions in which the segments of Japheth’s territory are presented,
the assignment of mainland Greece to Javan in the Apocryphon
while in Jubilees he receives only islands (this one is debatable).19

17  Or, as Menahem Kister (“Some Aspects of Qumranic Halakhah,” in The Madrid Qumran
Congress, ed. Julio Trebolle Barrera and Luis Vegas Montaner, STDJ 11 [Leiden: Brill, 1992],
2:571–88, 581–86) thinks, they come from a shared source (esp. 584). Cana Werman
(“Qumran and the Book of Noah,” in Pseudepigraphic Perspectives: The Apocrypha and
Pseudepigrapha in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls, ed. Esther G. Chazon and Michael E.
Stone, STDJ 31 [Leiden: Brill, 1999], 171–81, 172–75) argues that the differences in the two
accounts suggest that Jubilees drew from the Apocryphon. A significant part of her case
has to do with the supposed contradiction between Jub. 7:1–5 and 7:35–37 that may not
exist (see the next footnote).
18  See James C. VanderKam, “The Fourth-Year Planting in Jubilees 7” (forthcoming).
19  Machiela, The Dead Sea Genesis Apocryphon, 126–28.
the Book of Jubilees and the Genesis Apocryphon 379

Summarizing his results regarding the map sections in Jubilees and the
Apocryphon, Machiela concludes that if there is a direct literary relation be-
tween them, the Apocryphon is likely to be the source and Jubilees the user
as Jubilees corrects the order of the sons toward Genesis 10. Moreover, the
Apocryphon is typically shorter and simpler, and Jubilees has theological and
geographical additions (e.g., 8:17–21 about the surpassing character of Shem’s
territory). But he questions whether there is a direct literary connection be-
tween the two map sections, since the differences, which are substantial, must
be given due weight. He writes: “In any case, there is no doubt that theorizing a
common map, or map tradition, behind both of our texts best accounts for the
pastiche of similarities and differences laid out above.”20

Two Case Studies

Many if not all of the differences sketched in the preceding sections could
be explained in various ways and do not point unmistakably to borrowing
by either the Apocryphon or Jubilees. But two other features in the texts may
furnish more decisive evidence, or so it has been claimed. Below two signifi-
cant examples will be treated and their contribution to the question at hand
assessed.

The Chronology of Abram and Sarai in Canaan and Egypt

Both texts deal with the times when the first patriarchal couple reached
Canaan, went to Egypt, and returned to the land (see Gen 12:1–13:1), and both
supply dates for various events during this period in their lives. A compari-
son of the information in the Apocryphon and Jubilees led Kugel to describe
the results as “the most incontrovertible piece of evidence with regard to the
Apocryphon‘s dependence on Jubilees.”21 Jubilees’ chronology for the early
post-Haran period in the life of Abram and Sarai seems unproblematic. The
text offers a series of dates, none of which appears in Genesis. The Apocryphon
attests two of them, although it lacks a comprehensive chronology like the one
in Jubilees.

20  Machiela, The Dead Sea Genesis Apocryphon, 129.

21  Kugel, “Which Is Older?” 327.
380 VanderKam

Jubilees Event World Year Apocryphon

12:28 Leaving Haran 1953
13:8 Second year in Canaan 1954
13:10 Hebron built (2 years there) 19:9–10
13:11 To Egypt 1956
Sarai taken after 5 years 19:23
Sarai held two years 20:17–18
13:12 Tanais built 7 years after Hebron
13:16 Return to Canaan 1963

One possible implication of the chronology in Jubilees is that Sarai remained

with Pharaoh for two years, although the text is not explicit on the point
while the Apocryphon is.
The inference is one to which Kugel objects. He rightly observes that Jubilees
never says Sarai stayed in the palace for two years.

More likely, Jubilees’ author intended readers to understand that the inci-
dent with Pharaoh was swiftly ended, and that Abram and Sarai, having
left Egypt, slowly made their way back through the Negev and up to the
highland country near Bethel. This would accord well with the Genesis
narrative, which states that Abram and Sarai journeyed on “by stages”
(‫ )למסעיו‬from the Negev as far as Bethel (Gen 13:3 as translated by modern
scholars). Some further time must have elapsed before Abram “returned
to this place” in anno mundi 1963.22

He thinks a reader of Jubilees could have concluded that Pharaoh kept Sarai
with him for two years—though the writer did not intend to imply it—and
that the author of the Apocryphon did precisely that. If he did so, his misin-
terpretation would be a very clear demonstration that he used Jubilees as a
source.23
His argument about Jubilees’ chronology in this section, specifically that the
writer did not intend to imply Sarai spent two years in the Egyptian palace,
is appealing24 but not convincing. The writer of Jubilees would have to have
been clumsy in articulating his meaning if he did not intend to suggest that
Sarai spent about two years with Pharaoh. First, the numbers clearly give the

22  Kugel, “Which Is Older?” 328.

23  His full case for this particular example is in Kugel, “Which Is Older?” 327–30.
24  It would, of course, be helpful if she were there a very short time to reduce the possibility
that she and therefore any children she might bear would be defiled.
the Book of Jubilees and the Genesis Apocryphon 381

impression that the time from year five in Egypt to when she was released and
they returned to Canaan took up the remaining two years. Kugel realizes this
but adduces the expression “by stages” in Gen 13:3 as indicating the passage
of some time for the return journey: “He journeyed on by stages (‫ )למסעיו‬from
the Negeb as far as Bethel, to the place where his tent had been at the begin-
ning, between Bethel and Ai.” His point is valid for Genesis and perhaps for the
Apocryphon (see 20:34) but not for Jubilees, since the latter does not use this
expression and says merely that they returned. The parallel passage in Jubilees
reads: “He went to the place where he had first pitched his tent” (13:15).25 It
did not take Abram and Sarai very long to travel from the region of Hebron to
Egypt (13:11 indicates that the journey took place within the year 1956), and it
is very unlikely the author means to suggest their return trip, this time to the
vicinity of Bethel, occupied the better part of two years.26 The Apocryphon is,
of course, clearer about the two years, but its explicit mention of two years is
unlikely to have resulted from a misreading of Jubilees.27 If the writer of the
Apocryphon used Jubilees, he drew a reasonable inference from it, but the ex-
ample does not demonstrate that he took the information from Jubilees.
So Kugel’s “most incontrovertible piece of evidence” that the writer of the
Apocryphon used Jubilees turns out to be a misreading of Jubilees on this
point.28 But the wider case that he and others have made for dependence of

25  Translations of Jubilees are from James C. VanderKam, The Book of Jubilees, CSCO 510–11,
Scriptores Aethiopici 87–88 (Leuven: Peeters, 1989), vol. 2.
26  Michael Segal makes this point in “The Literary Relationship between the Genesis
Apocryphon and Jubilees: The Chronology of Abram and Sarai’s Descent to Egypt,” AS 8
(2010): 71–88, 80. In the form of his essay “Which Is Older?” in A Walk through Jubilees,
Kugel responds to Segal: “Segal further seems to suggest (pp. 79–80, n. 21) that the no-
tion that Abram and Sarai ‘meandered’ back to Canaan is somehow my creation, while it
is rather Jubilees’ straightforward restatement of the assertion in Gen 12:9 [sic] that the
couple journeyed ‘by stages’ (‫ )למסעיו‬from the Negev as far as Bethel” (330 n. 45). Exactly
how “went” is a “straightforward restatement” of “journeyed on by stages” is very difficult
to see. Segal concludes that Jubilees used the Apocryphon because Jubilees combined
the chronological information in the Apocryphon with its own interpretation of Gen 16:3
(where Sarai gives Hagar to Abram after he had lived in Canaan for ten years). I have dealt
with Segal’s problematic argument in my forthcoming commentary on Jubilees in the
Hermeneia series.
27  Cf. Fitzmyer, The Genesis Apocryphon, 206.
28  Ben Zion Wacholder used the same chronological evidence as part of his case that
Jubilees used the Apocryphon (“How Long Did Abram Stay in Egypt? A Study in
Hellenistic, Qumran, and Rabbinic Historiography,” in Essays on Jewish Chronology and
Chronography [New York: KTAV, 1976], 45–58, esp. 46–49, 55). The implications of the
dates for these episodes in the Apocryphon and Jubilees have been under discussion
382 VanderKam

the Apocryphon on Jubilees seems a more economical solution to the rela-

tion between the two, although it does not exclude the thesis that they had a
shared source.

Attention to Female Characters

Both works pay more attention to women than Genesis does or assign them
larger roles in stories, but they show major divergences in the ways in which
they do so. For example, as noted above, Batenosh plays a noteworthy part in
the Apocryphon (col. ii) and proves to be an appealing, eloquent character.
She is mentioned in Jubilees and her father is named (4:28), but she never says
a word. Naturally, the two texts deal with Sarai, but Jubilees has, to cite just
one example, nothing resembling the section about her beauty in the twen-
tieth column of the Apocryphon. Two other passages in particular suggest
something important about the likely relationship between Jubilees and the
Apocryphon.

1. One case, surely a significant one, has to do with the importance both at-
tach to marrying within proper family bounds. The issue is thematic in Jubilees
where marrying within the larger family is the norm and where exceptions
can have negative consequences.29 The Apocryphon arguably reveals a similar
concern in the Noah section. There (6:6) Emzera is called “his daughter” (the
context is broken so that the referent of “his” is not known; in Jub. 4:33 she is
“the daughter of Rakiel, the daughter of his father’s brother”), possibly suggest-
ing her family connections were as in Jubilees.
The next line makes the hypothesis more than likely: “Then I took wives
for my sons from among the daughters of my brothers, and my daughters I
gave to the sons of my brothers, according to the custom of the eternal statute
[that] the [Lo]rd of Eternity [gave ] to humanity” (6:8–9). The marriages of
Noah’s sons and daughters (he does not have daughters in Genesis or Jubilees)
fit the pattern familiar from Jubilees for the patriarchs in generations 4–10:
they marry cousins (the daughters of their fathers’ brothers). The passage in
the Apocryphon is remarkable when compared with Jubilees’ treatment of the
marriages of Noah’s sons. In the Apocryphon Noah acts according to the “cus-
tom of the eternal statute,” apparently the one well exemplified in Jubilees.

since the Apocryphon was first published. See the summary in Fitzmyer, The Genesis
Apocryphon, 21.
29  See Betsy Halpern-Amaru, The Empowerment of Women in the Book of Jubilees, JSJSup 60
(Leiden: Brill, 1999).
the Book of Jubilees and the Genesis Apocryphon 383

But Jubilees is oddly reticent when it comes to the marriages of Noah’s three
sons—the ancestors of all humanity, including the chosen race. Jubilees does
not even mention when the marriages occurred. It names the wives of Noah’s
sons in the scene where Ham responds to the curse his father had just placed
on Canaan. He was displeased with his father’s action and separated from
him: “He built himself a city and named it after his wife Neelatamauk. When
Japheth saw (this), he was jealous of his brother. He, too, built himself a city
and named it after his wife Adataneses. But Shem remained with his father
Noah. He built a city next to his father at the mountain. He, too, named it after
his wife Sedeqatelebab” (7:14–16). This is the only context in which the names
appear in the book. Contrary to his policy elsewhere and to what is found in
the Apocryphon, the writer says nothing about the family connections of these
three women. This is most surprising for the ancestresses of all post-diluvian
humanity, including the mother of the chosen line.
2. Another intriguing passage about marriage that is present in the
Apocryphon but absent from Jubilees occurs in col. 12:9–12:

Then [son]s[ and daugh]ters were born to[ my sons] after the flood. To
my oldest son [Shem] was first born a son, Arpachshad, two years after
the flood. And all the sons of Shem, all together, [wer]e [Ela]m, Asshur,
Arpachshad, Lud, and Aram, as well as five daughters. The [sons of Ham
(were) Cush, Mitzrai]n, Put, and Canaan, as well as seven daughters. The
sons of Japheth (were) Gomer, Magog, Madai, Javan, Tubal, Meshech, and
Tiras, as well as four daughters.

The number and names of the sons are familiar from Genesis 10, and that Shem
had sons and daughters is mentioned in a genealogical formula in Gen 11:11.
Genesis does not say how many daughters he had, and it does not mention
any daughters for Ham and Japheth. Jubilees assigns no daughters to any of
Noah’s sons. The daughters in the Apocryphon, then, seem significant. The spe-
cific numbers of them lead one to think the writer was making a point, and he
probably was: Shem’s five sons were able to marry his five daughters and thus
wed within the chosen line under the special circumstances prevailing im-
mediately after the flood, while Ham’s seven daughters could marry Japheth’s
seven sons, and his four daughters could marry the four sons of Ham. In this
way the line of Shem could remain pure (Jubilees does allude to intermarriage
between the line of Japheth and Shem [10:35–36]).30 It is difficult to explain

30  James C. VanderKam, “The Granddaughters and Grandsons of Noah,” RevQ 16 (1994):
457–61. On the passages treated in sections 1. and 2., see the similar comments of Kugel,
“Which Is Older?” 314–15, 324–25.
384 VanderKam

why, if the Apocryphon was a source for the author of Jubilees, he nevertheless
omitted such helpful material from his composition.

Conclusions

The limited amount of evidence at our disposal means that caution is in order
in drawing inferences. Nevertheless, it would be a puzzling state of affairs if the
writer of Jubilees knew the Apocryphon but failed to take over from it informa-
tion about the women whom Noah’s sons married or the intermarriages be-
tween his granddaughters and grandsons. Many of the shared features between
the two works could have arisen independently—one would not have to posit
direct dependence to explain the presence of names such as Batenosh and
Lubar or the extended similarities in the map section. However, the absence of
material in the Apocryphon that would definitely have contributed to a theme
emphasized repeatedly by the writer of Jubilees raises doubts that he consult-
ed it as a source. The evidence surveyed above, then, makes the hypo­thesis
that the Apocryphon was a source for Jubilees quite unlikely. Nevertheless, it
does not settle the question whether the writer of the Apocryphon made direct
use of Jubilees. Perhaps he did, but no convincing argument for the conclusion
is available. Jubilees may have been a source for the Apocryphon or both may
have taken their shared material from an earlier source or sources.
Tobit and the Qumran Aramaic Texts
Devorah Dimant

For George ‫אזן מקשבת לחכמה‬

Sir 3:29

∵
Among the descriptions of the book of Tobit we may find phrases such as
“a delightful mixture of real piety and Oriental superstition,”1 or “a delightful
story of affliction of a pious Israelite.”2 Another commentator affirmed lately
that Tobit “takes its point of departure from the fairytale in its Babylonian or
Persian shape.”3 Such examples are but a few of many others, reflecting the
somewhat undervalued status of the book of Tobit in scholarly opinion, which
is often relegated to that of a “Jewish novel” together with Esther and Judith.4
The change of perspective came around the middle of the last century, with the
discoveries of the Dead Sea Scrolls and the copies of Tobit found there. In
this context, a growing appreciation of the complexity and skillful literary
configuration of Tobit has taken place. An increasing number of publications
devoted to Tobit reflect this growing interest, which is well documented by
the three surveys of Tobit research published during the last thirty-five years.
Carey Moore produced his review in 1989, essentially covering the main areas

1  Derek C. Simpson, “The Book of Tobit,” in APOT 1:174.

2  Thus Neil H. Richardson, “The Book of Tobit,” in The Interpreter’s One-Volume Commentary on
the Bible, ed. Charles A. Layman (Nashville: Abingdon, 1971), 526.
3  Benedikt Otzen, Tobit and Judith, Guides to the Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha (London:
Sheffield Academic, 2002), 2.
4  See most recently Lawrence M. Wills, The Jewish Novel in the Ancient World (Ithaca: Cornell
University Press, 1995). Under the category “novel,” Wills treats a variety of Hebrew (Esther
and perhaps Judith), Aramaic (Tobit, Daniel, and perhaps Susana), and Greek (Greek Esther,
Joseph and Aseneth) compositions. While some broad literary traits are indeed shared by
such a group, treating the individual compositions from such a general perspective plays
down the significant differences among them in language, date, and background. See the
judicious comments on the subject by Carey A. Moore, Tobit, AB 40A (New York: Doubleday,
1996), 18–20.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ���7 | doi ��.��63/9789004344532_022

386 Dimant

of research in the twentieth century.5 Richard Spencer’s survey followed a de-

cade later and focused on publications that appeared during the previous ten
years.6 However, the two surveys came out before the full publication of the
Tobit manuscripts from Qumran in 1995 and so to a large extent they relate to
research that predated that stage.7 Thus, the impact of the publication could
be assessed only in publications noted in the third review of Tobit research that
appeared last year, compiled by Andrew Perrin.8 His thirty-five-page overview,
packed with information and titles, mirrors major aspects of Tobit research
between 2000 and 2014. Notably, these years correspond to the final stage of
publication of the Dead Sea Scrolls that saw the stream of unknown Hebrew
and Aramaic texts coming out. However, the paucity of articles registered by
Perrin that have attempted to make use of this Qumran trove for a better un-
derstanding of Tobit is telling. Research has yet to discover the potential rel-
evance of this unknown Hebrew literature for Tobit. Even more striking is how
little attention has been paid to the Qumran Aramaic literature as a major key
for interpreting Tobit. This neglect may be due partly to the belated full publi-
cation of this corpus, which took place only in the previous decade.9 However,
there is more to it than merely this delay for major Aramaic works, such as
the Qumran Aramaic Genesis Apocryphon and 1 Enoch, have been known
for more than three decades. One of the reasons for this dearth of attention
seems to be the notion maintained by many scholars that Tobit was composed
in what is labeled “the Eastern Diaspora.”10 Perhaps this is one of the reasons

5  Carey A. Moore, “Scholarly Issues in the Book of Tobit before Qumran and After: An
Assessment,” JSP 5 (1989): 65–81.
6  Cf. Richard A. Spencer, “The Book of Tobit in Recent Research,” CurBS 7 (1999): 147–80.
7  Cf. Joseph A. Fitzmyer, “196–200. 4QpapTobita ar, 4QTobitb-d ar, and 4QTobite,” in Qumran
Cave 4:XIV: Parabiblical Texts, Part 2, ed. Magen Broshi et al., DJD 19 (Oxford: Clarendon,
1995), 2–76 (plates I–X).
8  Cf. Andrew B. Perrin, “An Almanac of Tobit Studies: 2000–2014,” CurBS 13 (2014): 107–42.
9  This concerns chiefly the volumes edited by Émile Puech, DJD 31 in 2001 and DJD 37 in
2009.
10  This is a notion that has dominated the research until most recently and is held by
some scholars even today. Cf., e.g., Moore, Tobit, 43; Otzen, Tobit and Judith, 58; Beate
Ego, Buch Tobit, JSHRZ II/6 (Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlaghaus, 1999), 898–99; Isaiah M.
Gafni, The Jews of Babylonia in the Talmudic Era (Jerusalem: Zalman Shazar Center, 1990),
57–61 (Hebrew). Gafni speaks of the “Iranian atmosphere” that permeates the book (ibid.
58). Indeed, Asmodeus has been associated with the chief evil being of Persian religion.
However, the author of Tobit did not have to live in Mesopotamia in order to be influ-
enced by Persian culture. He could have been influenced by it in the land of Israel, ruled
by Persia for at least two centuries.
Tobit and the Qumran Aramaic Texts 387

why earlier examinations of Tobit focused on a specific set of topics, mostly

considered within the framework of the book itself. Prominent among them
have been the influence of the Hebrew Bible on the book, the story of Ahiqar,
a figure explicitly mentioned in Tobit,11 and the theology of the composition.
One of the favorite subjects of research during the better part of the twentieth
century has been the notion that Tobit is based on one or more folktales.12
However, the discovery of the Qumran copies of Tobit dramatically changed
perspectives on this work; among other things, it prompted a diminishing in-
terest in and the validity of folktales as a means of explaining this book.13 A
major and immediately recognized contribution of the Qumran copies to the
study of Tobit lies in its original textual form. For the Qumran library yielded six
copies of the book, five in Aramaic (4Q196–4Q199, XQTob) and one in Hebrew
(4Q200).14 Textually, these copies are close to the recension that is preserved by

11  See, e.g., Frank Zimmermann, The Book of Tobit, JAL (New York: Harper and Brothers,
1958), 13–15; Otzen, Tobit and Judith, 24–26.
12  Mainly the tales known as “The Grateful Dead” and “The Bride of the Monster.” Cf. the sur-
vey of Moore, Tobit, 11–12. One of the most outspoken proponents of the thesis that Tobit
is based on a folktale has been Will Soll. See, e.g., Soll, “Tobit and Folklore Studies, With
Emphasis on Propp’s Morphology,” SBLSP 27 (1988): 39–53; Soll, “Misfortune and Exile in
Tobit: The Juncture of a Fairy Tale Source and Deuteronomic Theology,” CBQ 51 (1989):
209–31. However, in the later article Soll admits that “there are too many components of
the work (i.e. Tobit) that do not fit the fairy tale genre” (“Misfortune and Exile,” 219), among
them the specific historical setting, place, and time. See also Irene Nowell, “The Book of
Tobit: Narrative Technique and Theology” (PhD diss., The Catholic University of America,
1983), 54–60; Nowell, “The Book of Tobit,” in The New Interpreter’s Bible (Nashville:
Abingdon, 1999), 979. But this type of comparison has also earned criticism. See for in-
stance, T. Francis Glasson, “The Main Sources of Tobit,” ZAW 71 (1959): 275–77. And note the
comment of Joseph A. Fitzmyer, Tobit, CEJL (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2003), 41: “there is practi-
cally no evidence that the tales predate the Tobit story” and so there is no justification for
postulating the existence of ancient folktales as serving as the basis for Tobit.
13  This is indicated by the decline of articles devoted to this issue, a fact recorded by Perrin,
“Almanac,” 74.
14  See Fitzmyer in DJD 19:2–76. Following Józef Milik, Fitzmyer was aware of only four
Aramaic manuscripts, but in 2006 two scholars published a photograph and decipher-
ment of a small papyrus fragment from Qumran containing Tob 14:3–4 that was unknown
to Fitzmyer, and is now part of the Schøyen Collection. The authors considered it a frag-
ment of the already known Qumran papyrus copy of Tobit, 4Q196, published by Fitzmyer.
Cf. also Michaela Hallermayer and Torleif Elgvin, “Schøyen Ms. 5234: Ein neues Tobit-
Fragment vom Toten Meer,” RevQ 22 (2006): 451–61. However, upon inspection of the pho-
tograph of the fragment forwarded to me by Prof. Elgvin, for which I am much indebted, it
became clear that the fragment comes from a different papyrus manuscript of 4Q196. Prof.
Elgvin now agrees with this conclusion (private communication). The same judgment is
388 Dimant

the Greek long text, attested by the fourth-century Codex Sinaiticus, a few cur-
sive Greek manuscripts (designated GII), and the Old Latin version. However,
at times the Qumran copies preserve readings that accord with the shorter
Greek version, transmitted by most of the Greek manuscripts, including the
Codices Alexandrinus and Vaticanus (designated GI),15 and usually considered
secondary.16 As the majority of the Qumran copies are in Aramaic, most schol-
ars agree today that the original composition was written in this language. The
multiple links displayed in Tobit to the Qumran Aramaic texts offer additional
support for this conclusion.17 The Qumran copies also contain sections of the
final chs. 13–14, demonstrating that they formed an integral part of at least
the early version from Qumran. However, this does not exclude the possibility
that these chapters originally stemmed from a separate source.18
However, while the Aramaic language of Tobit and its textual tradition have
received close attention, surprisingly little has been said about the literary-the-
matic relevance of the Qumran Aramaic corpus to Tobit. This is particularly
puzzling since this corpus is the closest to Tobit in time as well as in place,
and thus provides the primary means for elucidating the nature and meaning

noted by Perrin, “Almanac,” 109, and by Loren Stuckenbruck and Stuart Weeks, “Tobit,” in
The T&T Clark Companion to the Septuagint, ed. James K. Aitken (London: Bloomsbury,
2015), 237–60, 238. Stuart Weeks notes that another fragment from the same sixth manu-
script may be found in private hands. See Weeks, “Restoring the Greek Tobit,” JSJ 44 (2013):
1–15, 3 n. 6. Thus, the Qumran library held six copies of Tobit, five in Aramaic and one in
Hebrew. Michael Wise’s suggestion that the very small Hebrew fragment, 4Q478, comes
from another Hebrew copy of Tobit is groundless, cf. Wise, “A Note on 4Q196 (PapTob
Ara) and Tobit I 22,” VT 43 (1993): 566–70, 569 n. 6. The fragment contains five complete
words, the only significant one being ‫“( מועדיה‬her festivals”), which is hardly sufficient for
assigning the fragment to Tobit, let alone to Tob 2:1–6, where Pentecost is mentioned and
Amos 8:10 concerning festivals is cited.
15  See the survey of Stuckenbruck and Weeks, “Tobit.” The authors estimate that the two
Greek recensions of Tobit, GI and GII, are revisions of the original Greek translation, to
which GII is the closest. See ibid., 238–39.
16  See the most recent survey of Tobit’s textual traditions by Stuckenbruck and Weeks,
“Tobit.”
17  Also noted by Daniel A. Machiela and Andrew B. Perrin, “Tobit and the Genesis
Apocryphon: Toward a Family Portrait,” JBL 133 (2014): 111–32, 113.
18  These three issues are presented by Joseph Fitzmyer as the contributions of the Qumran
copies to the understanding of Tobit. Cf. Joseph A. Fitzmyer, “The Significance of the
Qumran Tobit Texts for the Study of Tobit,” in Joseph A. Fitzmyer, The Dead Sea Scrolls
and Christian Origins (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000), 131–56.
Tobit and the Qumran Aramaic Texts 389

of the book.19 In fact, the impact of Qumran data at large on the understand-
ing of Tobit as a literary and ideological composition has gained but sporadic
comments from students of this work, and by and large Tobit has continued
to be treated in isolation. This situation emerges clearly from Perrin’s survey.
Although Perrin accurately notes that “Tobit’s literary profile is best accounted
for within the world of mid-second temple period Aramaic writings,”20 his own
survey has very little to offer on this line of research.
Only recently and very sporadically, has the examination of Tobit as part
of Qumran Aramaic literature begun to infiltrate the scholarly scene. George
Nickelsburg compared Tobit to 1 Enoch,21 Liora Goldman noticed its analogies
with the Visions of Amram,22 Esther Eshel reviewed its links to the Aramaic
Levi Document (= ALD) and the Genesis Apocryphon,23 and Daniel Machiela
together with Andrew Perrin noted a selection of similarities between Tobit
and the Genesis Apocryphon.24 Although Machiela and Perrin limited their
comparison to the two mentioned works, they nevertheless spoke of them as
belonging to a wider family. Indeed, this insight is of major importance, as the
recognition that Tobit belongs with the Aramaic literature created in the land
of Israel during the Second Temple period is decisively suggested by the evi-
dence. The time has come, then, to extract the book of Tobit from its splendid
isolation and view it in its proper context, namely, as part of the Aramaic liter-
ary scene that developed in the last centuries of the Second Temple era in the
land of Israel. By mapping the manifold connections among the texts of this

19  Fitzmyer did so chiefly in regards to the Aramaic language. See Joseph A. Fitzmyer, “The
Aramaic and Hebrew Fragments of Tobit from Qumran Cave 4,” CBQ 57 (1995): 655–75,
665–66.
20  Perrin, “Almanac,” 112.
21  Cf. George W.E. Nickelsburg, “Tobit and Enoch: Distant Cousins with a Recognizable
Resemblance,” SBLSP 27 (1988): 54–68; Nickelsburg, “Tobit’s Mixed Ancestry: A Historical
and Hermeneutical Odyssey,” RevQ 17 (1996): 339–68.
22  Cf. Liora Goldman, “The Burial of the Fathers in the Visions of Amram from Qumran,” in
Rewriting and Interpreting the Hebrew Bible, ed. Devorah Dimant and Reinhard G. Kratz,
BZAW 439 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2013), 231–49, 241–45.
23  Cf. Esther Eshel, “The Aramaic Levi Document, the Genesis Apocryphon, and Jubilees:
A Study of Shared Traditions,” in Enoch and the Mosaic Torah, ed. Gabriele Boccaccini
and Giovanni Ibba (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009), 82–98, 94–95; Eshel, “The Proper
Marriage according to the Genesis Apocryphon and Related Texts,” Meghillot 8–9 (2010):
29–51 (Hebrew); Eshel, “The Proper Marriage according to the Genesis Apocryphon,” in
In Memoriam John Strugnell: Four Studies, ed. Marcel Sigrist and Kevin Stephens, CahRB
84 (Pendé: Gabalda, 2015), 67–83, 72–76, 82–83.
24  Cf. Machiela and Perrin, “Tobit and the Genesis Apocryphon.”
390 Dimant

Aramaic corpus, their shared traditions and outlook slowly emerge. This major
task is yet to be undertaken. Andrew Perrin has most recently taken a step in
this direction by publishing a survey of Tobit’s contacts with Qumran Aramaic
texts.25 His perspective and purpose coincide with the orientation of the pres-
ent article, which also aims at tracing some of the threads connecting Tobit
to the Qumran Aramaic compositions. However, unlike Perrin’s article, the
present discussion is restricted to thematic issues underlying these works and
leaves out literary techniques and styles. For these subjects should be treated
separately in the breadth and detail that they merit.26
Once the true backdrop and context of Tobit are recognized, a rich tapestry
of themes and ideas connecting it with a particular group of Aramaic texts is
unfolded. A full survey of these links is beyond the modest scope of the present
essay. Only four topics out of a much longer list on Tobit are compared with
their parallels in various Aramaic texts:27 endogamy, demonology, burials, and
sectarian halakhah. Other themes will be addressed elsewhere.
One of the literary facts to emerge from the Qumran evidence is the exis-
tence in the Aramaic corpus of distinct thematic cycles.28 Among them are
the two that shaped Tobit: a) the biographies of the biblical patriarchs; and b)
court tales about great kings and their courtiers. Each cycle is represented by a
number of specimen at Qumran, but Tobit shares features with both of them.
The constraints of the present discussion allow us to cover only some of the
features related to the patriarchal setting.

25  Cf. Andrew B. Perrin, “Tobit’s Context and Contacts in the Qumran Aramaic Anthology,”
JSP 25 (2015): 23–51.
26  This is another area for which a comprehensive and systematic study is needed. For the
time being, see James E. Miller, “The Redaction of Tobit and the Genesis Apocryphon,” JSP
8 (1991): 53–56; Loren T. Stuckenbruck, “Pseudepigraphy and First Person Discourse in the
Dead Sea Documents: From the Aramaic Texts to Writings of the Yahad,” in The Dead Sea
Scrolls and Contemporary Culture: Proceedings of the International Conference Held at the
Israel Museum ( July 6–8, 2008), ed. Adolfo D. Roitman, Lawrence H. Schiffman, and Shani
Tzoref, STDJ 93 (Leiden: Brill, 2011), 295–326; Andrew B. Perrin, “Capturing the Voices of
Pseudepigraphic Personae: On the Form and Function of Incipits in the Aramaic Dead
Sea Scrolls,” DSD 20 (2011): 113–25; Perrin, “Tobit’s Context and Contacts,” 27–32; Machiela
and Perrin, “Tobit and the Genesis Apocryphon,” 115–18.
27  For instance, Eshel, “Shared Traditions,” 91–97, discusses the tradition of the “two ways”
shared by Tobit and other Aramaic works. Perrin, “Tobit’s Context,” 32–35, addresses the
ancestral instructions also common to Tobit and other Aramaic texts.
28  Cf. Devorah Dimant, “Themes and Genres in the Aramaic Texts from Qumran,” in Devorah
Dimant, History, Ideology and Bible Interpretation in the Dead Sea Scrolls: Collected Studies,
FAT 90 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2014), 195–218.
Tobit and the Qumran Aramaic Texts 391

Endogamy

Marriage within the family is, perhaps, the most discussed topic in Tobit.29
Indeed, it is undoubtedly one of the main ideological threads that tie together
the majority of the episodes in this composition. The chief protagonists are
Tobi’s son, Tobiah, and Sarah.30 Being the only children of their parents and
close relatives, but otherwise unknownto each other, they are the ideal candi-
dates to form an endogamous union. They are then brought together by divine
plan. Sarah’s plight lies in the fact that she is aware of the duty to marry some-
one from her own family but she knows of no suitable relative (Tob 3:15). In her
prayer, Sarah states three aspects of these dire circumstances: firstly, she lives
in exile and so is far removed from her land and kinsmen; secondly, she is the
only child of her father; and thirdly, her father has no relatives. The absence of
any known relative is the most serious impediment to an eventual marriage,
the prayer making it clear that marriage to a relative is the only appropriate
union. In fact, the death of Sarah’s seven suitors suggests the impropriety of a
match outside the family. This observation throws light on Tobiah’s statement.
Having heard Raphael urging him to marry Sarah, he admits that he fears the
demon will kill him “for he (i.e. the demon) loves her” (6:15 GI). However, less
attention has been paid to the fact that the demon’s love is expressed only by
Tobiah himself and is not recounted elsewhere in the story (Tob 2:8; 3:15; 4:17),
thus highlighting the subjective character of the statement.31 The real import

29  See, most recently, Thomas Hieke, “Endogamy in the Book of Tobit, Genesis, and Ezra-
Nehemiah,” in The Book of Tobit: Text, Tradition, Theology, ed. Geza G. Xeravits and József
Zsengellér, JSJSup 98 (Leiden: Brill, 2005), 103–20, 105–20; Geoffrey D. Miller, Marriage in
the Book of Tobit, Deuterocanonical and Cognate Literature Studies 10 (Berlin: de Gruyter,
2011), 72–80; Perrin, “Tobit’s Context,” 35–42.
30  The chief protagonist of the book of Tobit is addressed throughout by the name Tobi
(‫ )טובי‬as preserved in the Aramaic copies. His son is referred to as Tobiah (‫ )טוביה‬in the
Aramaic and Hebrew copies of Tobit.
31  The dubious status of this item is perhaps reflected also by the fact that it only appears
in some versions and is lacking, for instance, in the Sinaiticus version. It is, however, pro-
duced by other witnesses of the long recension, the Greek cursive ms 319 and the Old
Latin (Codex Regius). Cf. Robert Hanhart, Tobit, VTG VIII, 5 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck &
Ruprecht, 1983), 116; Vincent T.M. Skemp, The Vulgate of Tobit Compared with Other Ancient
Witnesses, SBLDS 180, Atlanta: SBL Press, 2000), 224; Stuart Weeks, Simon Gathercole,
and Loren Stuckenbruck, The Book of Tobit: Texts from the Principal Ancient and Medieval
Traditions, Fontes et Subsidia ad Bibliam Pertinentes 3 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2004), 194.
Contra to the affirmation of Fitzmyer, reproduced by all subsequent commentators, this
statement is not attested by the Qumran manuscripts. The context has survived in two
manuscripts, 4Q196 14 i 4 and 4Q197 14 ii. In the case of 4Q197 14 ii 10, the word corresponding
392 Dimant

of the situation is indicated by Raphael’s explanation who reveals to Tobiah

that he is the only relative of Sarah and therefore destined to marry her (Tob
6:18). This answer also emphasizes the unnatural and undesirable character of
the demon’s association with Sarah.32
Endogamy is prescribed for Tobi’s entire family. Tobi himself married a
woman from his own family (Tob 1:10). He advises his son Tobiah to do the
same (Tob 4:12–13), advice repeated later by Raphael (Tob 6:16). Instructing
his son in this matter, Tobi cites the example of the biblical patriarchs who
practiced endogamy and justifies it by their being prophets, a heritage also
transmitted to Tobi and Tobiah themselves, being “sons of prophets.” Warning
against marriage outside the family, Tobi notably labels exogamy “fornication”
(πορνεία in Tob 4:1233). The theme reappears in Tobiah’s prayer in his bridal
chamber. He states that he is taking his “sister,” namely Sarah, “not for forni-
cation” (οὐχὶ διὰ πορνείαν—Tob 8:7 GII; similarly GI), thus affirming that he is
obeying his father’s directive and Raphael’s advice and indicating the propriety
of the marriage.34

to “loves her” of Tob 6:15 is restored by Fitzmyer following the Greek [‫ )]רחמה‬in DJD
19:48, but [‫ ]רחם לה‬in Fitzmyer, Tobit, 215). The supplement creates a phrase that is not
quite identical to the GI reading and may be restored differently. As for the reading of
the verb ‫“( רחם‬loves”) in 4Q196 14 i 4, it is extremely doubtful. In the oldest yet clearest
photograph, PAM 41.647, only sections of two (or three?) undecipherable upper horizon-
tal strokes have survived. Indeed, Michaela Hallermayer, who re-edited the fragments,
rightly avoids any restoration in 4Q197 14 ii 10 and notes that the remains of the letters
in 4Q196 14 i 4 cannot be read. See Hallermayer, Text und Überlieferung des Buches Tobit,
Deuterocanonical and Cognate Literature Studies 3 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2008), 63, 107.
32  Owens sees here a contrast between Tobiah’s love for Sarah (Tob 6:19) and the demon’s
lust for her. See J. Edward Owens, “Asmodeus: A Less than Minor Character in the Book
of Tobit,” in Deuterocanonical and Cognate Literature; Yearbook 2007: Angels, ed. Friedrich
V. Reiterer, Tobias Nicklas, and Karin Schopflin (Berlin: de Gruyter 2007), 277–90, 280.
However, such an interpretation disregards the subjective character of the Asmodeus’s
love notion and makes it a feature of the entire narrative.
33  Thus the short Greek text and the witnesses of the long version (the Greek cursive ms 319
and Old Latin). This verse is a part of the passage missing from Codex Sinaiticus. Tobit’s
specific context and the parallels in Aramaic Levi Document (= ALD) and the Testament
of Qahat (discussed below) suggest that “fornication” here refers specifically to exoga-
mous marriages and not to illicit sexual activity more generally, as argued, for instance, by
Miller, Marriage, 72.
34  Moore, Tobit, 243 and Ego, Tobit, 974 associate this passage with Josephus’s statement in
J.W. 2.160–161 that a certain branch of Essenes practiced marriage only for the purpose of
procreation. It appears that this notion of marriage also underlies the prayer of Tobiah.
Tobit and the Qumran Aramaic Texts 393

The subject of a suitable marriage is brought up again by the angel Raphael,

alias Azaryah, upon introducing the subject of Sarah to Tobiah en route to
Ecbatana. He points out that Sarah is his closest kin (Tob 5:12) leaving him
the only lawful heir to her father’s property (Tob 6:12–14 [GI], 18–19; 6:13 [GII]).
Raphael even asserts that Reʿuel, Sarah’s father, knows that giving his daugh-
ter to a stranger incurs death, since it is against the precepts of the Torah
(Tob 6:13).35 This has been understood in relation to Num 36:5–12, which pre-
scribes the preservation of inheritance within the tribe by obligating daughters
without brothers to marry within the tribe.36 However, other features in Tobit’s
story, such as Tobi’s stress on the “prophetic” origin of his family, indicate that
the inheritance is not the only issue at stake; the purity of the lineage is equally
important.37 In light of this idea, it is worthwhile noting that by killing Sarah’s
bridegrooms the demon Asmodeus rescued Sarah from improper marriages.
Until this point in the story, the precise relationship between Tobiah and
Sarah is not spelled out, neither is it stated what degree of kinship is required
or preferable for a proper match. However, the author inserted two proleptic
hints about the identity of a suitable candidate for such a union. One is found
in Sarah’s prayer in her distress, the other in the exchange between Tobiah and
Raphael. In the prayer, Sarah notes that her plight is due to her being her par-
ents’ only child, but also to the fact that her father has no other kinsman who
has a son. Both the short and the long Greek versions describe such a kinsman
with the word ἀδελφός, which can mean both “brother” and the more general
“relative, kinsman.”38 Most translators prefer the latter meaning.39 However,
if the first sense is adopted for the formulation of GI, a surprisingly precise
statement emerges (Tob 3:15): “(and he has no son) . . . nor a close brother, or a
son to him (for whom I should keep myself to be a wife).”40 Significantly, this
version is very close to the Aramaic preserved in one of the Qumran Tobit cop-
ies “. . . n[or] does he [have] a brother41 or a relative, a son for whom [I shall

35  Tob 5:10–13 are partly preserved by 4Q197 4 i 13–19–ii 1–6.

36  See, for instance, Fitzmyer, Tobit, 213–14.
37  As stressed by Adiel Schremer, Male and Female He Created Them: Jewish Marriage in
the Late Second Temple, Mishnah and Talmud Periods (Jerusalem: Zalman Shazar Center,
2003), 165 (Hebrew).
38  Cf. Takamitzu Muraoka, A Greek-English Lexicon of the Septuagint (Louvain: Peeters,
2009), 9.
39  Cf., for instance, Moore, Tobit, 143; Fitzmyer, Tobit, 148; Alexander di Lella in NETS, 462–63.
40  The Greek (GI) reads as follows: καί οὐχ ὑπάρχει αὐτῷ παιδίον) . . . οὐδὲ ἀδελφὸς ἐγγὺς οὺδὲ
ὑπάρχων αὐτῷ υἱός, (ἵνα συντηρήσω ἐμαυτὴν αὐτῷ γυναῖκα).
41  The translation is that of Fitzmyer (DJD 19:14), except for the term ‫אח‬, translated here as
“brother” instead of “kinsman” as proposed by Fitzmyer.
394 Dimant

b]e a wife” (4Q196 6 11–12).42 The mention of a son to the brother or a rela-
tive points clearly to the desirable match, a son of the father’s brother, name-
ly, Sarah’s cousin. Such a consanguineous marriage may also be hinted at in
Raphael’s description of Sarah to Tobiah (cf. above). Tobiah’s precise kinship to
Sarah is stated explicitly only at the moment of his meeting with her parents,
Reʿuel and Edna. Seeing Tobiah, Reʿuel exclaims: “How like my cousin is he!”
(Tob 7:2 [GI]43). The precise Aramaic expression in this verse is preserved in
another Aramaic copy of Tobit: “How this youth resembles Tobi the son of my
uncle!” (4Q197 4 iii 4–5).44 So, according to this textual tradition, Tobi is Reʿuel’s
cousin, and thus Tobiah and Sarah are second cousins. In the tradition of GII,
Tobiah and Sarah are first cousins, if ἀδελφός is taken to mean “brother” rather
than “kinsman.” Thus, it appears that according to the view of the book of Tobit
the desirable marriage within the family is with one’s cousin, preferably a pa-
ternal one. This view follows the patriarchal model: Isaac married the grand-
daughter of his uncle, Abraham’s brother Nahor (Gen 22:23; 24:15), so Isaac and
Rebecca were paternal second cousins. Jacob was instructed by Isaac to marry
the daughters of his uncle Laban (Gen 28:1–2), and did so by taking Leah and
Rachel as wives (Gen 29:18–28). Both were his maternal cousins. The book of
Tobit, thus, follows the biblical patriarchal model and advocates an endoga-
mous marriage between cousins as the proper match.45 The purpose of such a
marriage is to preserve the purity and propriety of the family line, as well as to
keep the property within the family.
While endogamy is a major theme in Tobit, the composition is not the only
one to advocate this principle. Several Aramaic texts from Qumran do the
same.46 The requirement of endogamous alliance is stressed by the Aramaic
Levi Document (= ALD), the Genesis Apocryphon, and the Visions of Amram,
and is also implied in 1 Enoch, all four being Aramaic compositions represent-
ed by copies among the Qumran Scrolls.

42   ‫ואח לה וקריב ל[א איתי] ל[ה די אנטר נ]פשי לבר ד[י אהו]ה לה אנתה‬.
43  GI employs the word ἀνεψιός (“cousin”) whereas GII has ἀδελφός (“brother, kinsman”). But
Old Latin has also “cousin” (consubrino).
44  ‫כמא דמה עלימא דן לטובי בר דדי‬.
45  On the preference of marriage between cousins in the Genesis Apocryphon, see Adiel
Schremer, Male and Female, 164. In another publication, Schremer suggests that texts be-
longing to what he terms “Enoch’s cycle,” such as Jubilees, recommend marriage with cous-
ins because of their opposition to marriage with a niece, as did the Qumran Yaḥad (cf. CD
5:7–8; 11QTa 66:15–17). See Schremer, “Kingship Terminology and Endogamous Marriage in
the Mishnaic and Talmudic Periods,” Zion 60 (1995): 5–35, 14 (Hebrew). The same may be
said of the entire group of Qumran Aramaic texts dealing with the patriarchs.
46  For what follows, see also Perrin, “Tobit’s Context,” 36–42.
Tobit and the Qumran Aramaic Texts 395

The Genesis Apocryphon is particularly expansive in this respect.47 It em-

phasizes that in the days following the iniquitous union of the angels with
women, Noah and his sons practiced appropriate unions by marrying the
daughters of their father’s brother, namely, their paternal cousins (1QapGen
ar 1:10). In the passage relating these events, Noah states that this was done “in
accordance with the law of the world” (‫)כדת חוק עלמא‬.48 Interestingly, in the
version of the story of Noah’s wondrous birth preserved in 1 Enoch, Enoch tells
his son Methuselah that by engaging in unlawful unions with mortal women
the sinful angels transgressed “the covenant of Heaven” (1 En. 106:1349), sug-
gesting a view that there was an eternal law forbidding improper marriage. The
passage from the Genesis Apocryphon cited above expresses another aspect of
the same idea, namely, the existence of an eternal law for proper marriage, a
law that guided Noah’s behavior.50 The awareness of such a directive accounts
for Lamech’s alarm upon watching his son Noah’s wondrous birth, suspecting
that the newborn was the offspring of an illicit union of his wife with an an-
gelic Watcher. As told by 1 Enoch 106–107, and in greater detail in the Genesis
Apocryphon 3–5, the suspicion was later dispelled by the explanations Enoch
gave to Noah’s grandfather, Methuselah.
The motive behind such a concern for appropriate marriages was to main-
tain the purity and piety of the patriarchal line and its ancestral origins. This
principle is made clear by the fuller description of the antediluvian generations

47  For this section, see the detailed comments of Machiela and Perrin, “Tobit and the Genesis
Apocryphon.”
48  See Loren T. Stuckenbruck, 1 Enoch 91–108, CEJL (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2007), 666; Eshel,
“Related Texts,” 33–34. The contrast between the sinful unions of the angels and the prop-
er marriages practiced by Noah’s family is noted by Stuckenbruck, ibid., and Daniel K.
Falk, The Parabiblical Texts: Strategies for Extending the Scriptures in the Dead Sea Scrolls,
Companion to the Qumran Scrolls 8 (London: T&T Clark, 2007), 69, 104. Betsy Halpern-
Amaru has shown that the exogamic marriages of the Watchers (“of all they chose”;
Gen 6:2) stand in contrast to the endogamy practiced by the genealogy of Noah, a motif
emphasized by Jubilees but suggested already in the biblical account. See Halpern-
Amaru, The Empowerment of Women in the Book of Jubilees, JSJSup 60 (Leiden: Brill, 1999),
23–25, 148–49. See also Eshel, “The Proper Marriage,” 71–77.
49  This is the reading of the Greek version of this verse that survived in Pap. Chester Beatty.
See Campbell Bonner, The Last Chapters of Enoch in Greek (London: Christophers, 1937),
83. According to the Ethiopic version, the angels transgressed “the word of my Lord.” See
the comments of Stuckenbruck, 1 Enoch 91–108, 664–65.
50  For the connection between the passages from 1 Enoch 106 and Genesis Apocryphon 1:10,
see Stuckenbruck, 1 Enoch 91–108, 666. Eshel has proposed that the terminology in the
Genesis Apocryphon was based on Isa 24:5 (Eshel, “Related Texts,” 33). The same biblical
verse is perhaps echoed in the 1 Enoch passage.
396 Dimant

in the Book of Jubilees,51 probably drawing upon the Genesis Apocryphon as

one of its sources.52 Jubilees strives to show that when exogamy was practiced,
as it was in the case of the Watchers or that of Ham and Japhet, Noah’s sons,
corruption and depravity proliferated, whereas endogamous marriage perpet-
uated piety and holiness.53
The association of endogamy with piety and purity is also spelled out by the
Aramaic Levi Document. This document is one of the sources of the Greek
Testament of Levi, and is now available in seven fragmentary copies from
Qumran, a Genizah manuscript, and a Greek translation of passages inserted
in a manuscript from Mount Athos.54 For the present theme, the first advice
given by Isaac to Levi, following his nomination for priesthood is relevant. Isaac
formulates his advice as follows: “First of all, be[wa]re my son of all fornication
and impurity and of all harlotr[y]. And marry a woman from my family and
do not defile your seed with harlots, since you are holy seed, and your seed is
holy, like the holy place, since you are called the holy priest for all the seed of
Abraham.”55 Here, exogamic marriage is equated with harlotry that defiles the
entire family. The avoidance of improper marriage of this type springs from
the necessity of maintaining the familial priestly purity, explains Isaac to the

51  See Jacob Milgrom, “The Concept of Impurity in Jubilees and the Temple Scroll,” RevQ 16
(1993): 277–84 (281). Milgrom discusses Jubilees but the concept of the purity of the an-
cestral line is shared by the entire group of Aramaic works that deal with the patriarchal
biographies.
52  See, e.g., Eshel, “Shared Traditions,” 91; Daniel A. Machiela, The Dead Sea Genesis
Apocryphon, STDJ 79 (Leiden: Brill, 2009), 17. For the concern in Jubilees for the recon-
struction of the purity of line of the antediluvian generations, see Halpern-Amaru,
Empowerment of Women, 18–21. Note also James C. VanderKam, “The Granddaughters and
Grandsons of Noah,” RevQ 16 (1994): 457–61.
53  As shown by Halpern-Amaru, Empowerment of Women, 18–21.
54  The Qumran copies are the following: 1Q21, 4Q213, 4Q213a, 4Q213b, 4Q214, 4Q214a, and
4Q214b. Six columns of a Genizah manuscript stored at the University of Cambridge (T.S.
16, fol. 94) have survived. Another leaf of the same manuscript, preserving four columns,
is stored in the Oxford Bodleian Library. Extracts from a Greek translation of the Levi
Document have been included in a copy of the Twelve Patriarchs (ms Koutloumous 39,
stored in a monastery on Mount Athos). For details, see Jonas C. Greenfield, Michael E.
Stone, and Esther Eshel, The Aramaic Levi Document, SVTP 19 (Leiden: Brill, 2004), 1–6.
55  The passage is preserved in the Bodleian Genizah leaf: ‫לקדמין היזדהר לך ברי מן כל פחז‬
‫וטמאה ומן כל זנו[ת] ואנת אנתתא מן משפחתי סב לך ולא תחל זרעך עם זניאן ארי זרע‬
‫קדיש אנת וקדיש זרעך היך קודשא ארו כהין קדיש אנת מתקרי לכל זרע אברהם‬. The text
is given according to the edition of Émile Puech, “Le Testament de Lévi en araméen de la
Geniza du Caire,” RevQ 20 (2002): 509–56, 527. The translation, with a slight alteration, is
that of Greenfield, Stone, and Eshel, Aramaic Levi, 75.
Tobit and the Qumran Aramaic Texts 397

newly ordained Levi. The regulation, states Isaac, applies to all of Abraham’s
descendants. This last phrase has been understood as referring to all Israel, and
therefore the directive has been interpreted as a prohibition against marry-
ing Gentiles.56 However, Isaac’s explicit emphasis on selecting a wife “from my
family,” justifying it because of Levi’s priestly status, favors a more restrictive
interpretation, namely, that of marriage within the family in order to preserve
its purity.57 In this sense, it agrees entirely with Tobit.
Another Aramaic work, the Testament of Qahat, a fragment of which was
found among the Scrolls, voices what appears to be the same warning, produc-
ing in a fragmentary piece the words “. . . them from fornication.”58 In a differ-
ent passage addressing various directives to his sons, Qahat instructs them as
follows: “. . . and be holy and pure barring all intermixture.”59 Since the warning
is listed with others addressed to members of the priestly line, this one may be
directed against exogamous matches.60
The similarity between Isaac’s counsel to Levi and Tobi’s advice to his son
(Tob 4:12; cf. above) is striking; for Tobi, too, marriage outside the family equals
“fornication,” a notion also hinted at in Sarah’s prayer in which she states that

56  See, for instance, Edward M. Cook, “Remarks on the Testament of Kohath from Qumran
Cave 4,” JJS 44 (1993): 205–19, 210; Joseph M. Baumgarten, “The “Halakha” in Miqṣat Maʿaśe
Ha-Torah (MMT),” JAOS 116 (1996): 512–16, 515; Menachem Kister, “Studies in 4QMiqṣat
Maʿaśe Ha-Torah and Related Texts: Law, Theology, Language and Calendar,” Tarbiẓ 68
(1999): 317–70, 344 (Hebrew). Cook and Kister compare the term “fornication” (‫ (זניתא‬in
the Aramaic texts with the same term (‫)זונות‬, a warning against which appears in 4QMMT
B 75. In their opinion, both refer to marriage of Israelites with Gentiles. However, the par-
allel of Jub. 30:8 banning marriages with Gentiles, adduced by Kister, ibid., in support of
his interpretation, is the exception rather than evidence for the meaning of the Aramaic
texts; the Aramaic texts in question address the warning to members of the priestly line,
so exogamous matches seem to be intended. In Tobit, that is certainly the case.
57  The same understanding is expressed by Schremer, Male and Female, 164–65.
58  ‫ ;להון מן זנותא‬4Q542 3 ii 12.
59  ‫ ;והוא קד[יש]ין ודכין מן כול [ער]ברוב‬4Q542 1 i 8–9. See the edition and comments of
Cook, “Testament of Kohath,” 205–6, 210–11.
60  The term ‫“( [ער]בוב‬intermixture”) parallels the terms ‫“( כלאים‬diverse kinds”) and ‫שעטנז‬
(“mixed threads”) in 4QMMT B 75–77 for improper marriages. Since this passage also
speaks of priests, it seems that 4QMMT is also referring to undesirable matches within
Israel, rather than with Gentiles, as indeed suggested by Qimron and Strugnell. They
rightly note that the term ‫ זנות‬refers in the Dead Sea Scrolls “to all kinds of illegal marital
acts, including forbidden marriages that fall under the ban analogous to that on ‘diverse
kinds’.” See Elisha Qimron and John Strugnell, Qumran Cave 4.V: Miqṣat Maʿaśe Ha-Torah,
DJD 10 (Oxford: Clarendon, 1994), 171 n. 177, and their general comments on the passage
on pp. 171–72.
398 Dimant

she had not “defiled” herself with a man or “besmirched” herself or her father’s
name (Tob 3:14–15).
For Tobi, endogamous marriage is required due to his ancestral lineage,
being descendants of the patriarchs who were “prophets.” Although not a
priest, Tobi applies to himself and to his descendants priestly regulations, pre-
scribed by the ALD for Levi and his lineage.61 Moreover, for both, the proper
endogamic match is between cousins, preferably on the side of the father. This
emerges from the fact that Levi marries his first cousin, Melka, the daughter of
his uncle, Bethuel (ALD 11:162).
The same notion of the appropriate matrimony is espoused by anoth-
er Aramaic work discovered at Qumran, the Visions of Amram. As with
Aramaic Levi Document, it concerns a member of the priestly lineage, this
time Amram, Levi’s grandson and the father of Moses, Aaron, and Miriam.
Unknown from any other source, this Aramaic work survived in six fragmen-
tary copies (4Q543–4Q548) and perhaps also in a seventh one (4Q549).63 The
composition imparts the final words of Amram to his sons. The surviving pas-
sages contain an account of Amram’s trip from Egypt to Canaan to bury his
ancestors in Hebron, and relate the dreams he had there. The concern of the
work with proper marriage is indicated by two details. The beginning of the
work has been partly preserved by 4Q543 1, 4Q545 1, and 4Q546 1. It establishes
the narrative framework of the story by presenting it as a copy of the book
Amram gave to his sons. According to it, Amram gave his daughter Miriam in
marriage to his youngest brother Uziel (4Q543 1 5–8; 4Q545 1 i 5–8; cf. Lev 6:20).
Thus, Miriam marries her paternal uncle, very much in line with the endo-
gamic matrimony practiced by other biblical patriarchs and espoused in Tobit
as well as in the other Aramaic works surveyed above. Amram’s concern about
maintaining a proper marital relationship is also expressed by his abstain-
ing from taking a second wife while in Canaan and separated from his wife
Yochebed, who went back to Egypt (4Q543 4 3–4; 4Q544 1 7–9; 4Q547 1–2 10–
13). This separation lasted for forty years since Amram could not return home
to Egypt due to the ongoing war between that country and Canaan (4Q547 1–2
4–5). Yochebed, it should be remembered, was Amram’s aunt (cf. Exod 6:20),
the daughter of his grandfather Levi (Num 26:59). This pedigree suggests that
Amram committed to this long period of sexual abstinence in order to main-

61  As noted by Eshel, “Related Texts,” 33.

62  According to the Greek Mt. Athos manuscript, cf. Greenfield, Stone, and Eshel, Aramaic
Levi Document, 94 and the table of Levi’s genealogy ibid., between pp. 181–82.
63  Edited by Émile Puech, Qumrân Grotte 4.XXII: Textes araméens, première partie 4Q529–
549, DJD 31 (Oxford: Clarendon, 2001), 283–405.
Tobit and the Qumran Aramaic Texts 399

tain his purity and that of his line. Significantly, the Visions of Amram has an-
other point of contact with Tobit, namely the proper burial, of which more will
be said below.64

Demonology

In Tobit, endogamy and family purity are closely connected to demonic activ-
ity. This is embodied in the actions of the “evil demon Asmodeus,” who kills
seven of Sarah’s bridegrooms (Tob 3:8). Since Tobiah was the only surviving
relative of Sarah, the seven were obviously not from her family and thus a mar-
riage with one of them would have constituted an exogamous match. So, by
killing these candidates, Asmodeus prevented Sarah from contracting an im-
proper marriage. Moreover, Asmodeus struck the grooms before the marriages
were consummated (Tob 3:8), thus preserving Sarah’s virginity intact enabling
her subsequently to marry Tobiah. Hence, Asmodeus has an important role to
play in the plot. Yet, emanating malevolence, Asmodeus has to be removed.
This is done by burning the heart and liver of the fish Tobiah caught on the way
to Ecbatana, following the instructions of the angel Raphael (Tob 6:6–7, 16–17;
8:2–4).65 The smell so frightened Asmodeus that he fled to Egypt and Raphael
finished the job by binding the demon.
On the overt level of the story, Asmodeus is the embodiment of evil in the
tale, the instigator of Sarah’s suffering. Thus, structurally, he is pitted against
the angel Raphael who is sent to rescue her. The demon and the angel are
not equally powerful opponents of the type found in the supernatural camps
of evil and light recorded in the Qumran sectarian literature. For Raphael is
equipped not only with superior angelic power but also with the knowledge
of medicines for the elimination of the nefarious influence of demons. Still, a
world open to the activities of both demons and angels possesses clear dualis-
tic components.
Dualistic aspects are also observed in other Aramaic texts. Of particular
interest are the points of contact observed between Tobit and the Enochic

64  On both issues, see the comments by Goldman, “Burial of the Fathers,” 242–44. Goldman
surveys additional themes shared by Tobit and the Visions of Amram, among them the
activity of demonic beings, discussed below.
65  For the magical background of this procedure, see Bernd Kollmann, “Göttliche
Offenbarung magisch-pharmakologischer Heilkunst im Buch Tobit,” ZAW 106 (1994):
289–99.
400 Dimant

Book of Watchers (= 1 Enoch 1–36).66 The similarity concerns first of all the
activity of Raphael. In Tobit, the angel’s role is to heal the illness of Tobi and
to rid Sarah of the persecuting demon. Ascribing healing capacity to Raphael
is an evident play on his name (‫)רפאל‬, meaning “El has healed.”67 The heal-
ing tradition attached to this angel is also present in the Book of Watchers (1
En. 10:4–8), where Raphael is to heal the earth from the havoc wrought by the
Watchers and their giant offspring. However, there are additional points of
contact between this Enochic episode and Tobit’s depiction. Just as Raphael
binds Asmodeus in Tobit, he is commanded to bind the leader of the Watchers,
Azael, in 1 Enoch (1 En. 10:4–5). Although the two accounts involve different
beings, a sinful angel in 1 Enoch and a demon in Tobit, the affinity of their re-
spective punishments is striking. Moreover, the nature of the demons is speci-
fied elsewhere in the Book of Watchers (in 1 Enoch 16), where their creation
is depicted as spirits coming out of the dead giants, the offspring of the sinful
angels and the women. The Book of Jubilees provides an additional aspect to
this group of motives by stating that one-tenth of the demons remained on
earth under the authority of the arch demon Mastema, enabling them to cor-
rupt and harass mankind (Jub. 10:8–9). Interestingly, the other nine-tenths are
to be kept in “a place of judgment,” evoking the binding of Asmodeus in Tobit.
So both details could have been known to Tobit. In 1 Enoch 10, the punishment
of binding and throwing into a place of darkness to wait for final judgment
is meted out to the sinful angels, whereas in Tobit and Jubilees it is inflicted
upon the demons. Another point of contact between Jubilees and Tobit con-
cerns the use of medicines against demonic influence. Tobit does not explain
how Raphael knew the remedy needed to fend off Asmodeus, but the story
implies that the source of his knowledge was angelic. Jubilees 10 is explicit in
attributing such a science to the Angels of Presence. Accordingly, these angels
taught Noah which medicines were needed to heal the plagues brought about
by the demons, and Noah wrote them down in a book that he handed to his
son Shem (Jub. 10:12–14). These similarities suggest that the author of Tobit was
familiar with the Enochic traditions, as he was with those underlying Jubilees.
The uniqueness of Tobit’s Asmodeus is that despite his overtly pernicious
character in the story, his actions protect Sarah from unlawful marriages.
The enlisting of a demonic spirit to safeguard familial purity is evoked also
in the Genesis Apocryphon.68 Here, in response to Abraham’s prayer, an “evil

66  Cf. the comments of Nickelsburg, “Tobit and Enoch,” 55–59.

67  Cf. HALOT, 3:1275. Note the description of the healing activities of Azariah/Raphael in
Tob 12:3.
68  See the observations of Machiela and Perrin, “Tobit and the Genesis Apocryphon,” 129–30.
Tobit and the Qumran Aramaic Texts 401

spirit”69 is divinely sent to protect his wife Sarah from molestation. Abraham
requests that his wife not be defiled by Pharaoh, having been taken from him
by force to be the Egyptian king’s wife (1QapGen ar 20:12–18). The evil spirit
sent to help inflicts various plagues and afflictions on Pharaoh and the mem-
bers of his household thus preventing Pharaoh from touching Sarah. None of
the Egyptian physicians or magicians could heal the diseases. Upon learning
that the presence of Sarah was the cause of these evils, Pharaoh was prepared
to relinquish her. He returned Sarah to Abraham and, swearing that he did not
have sexual intercourse with her, he was cured by Abraham who prayed while
placing his hands on the king’s head (1QapGen ar 20:20–29).70
Summarizing the foregoing points, the Genesis Apocryphon parallels Tobit
in three points: the respective demonic beings protect the protagonist from
being molested; the expulsions of the demonic beings are conducted by apo-
tropaic rituals; finally, the expulsion of the evil is accompanied by a prayer.71
The particular affinity between these two works lies in the fact that both enlist
demons to protect the heroines from sexual abuse.

Dualism

The foregoing episodes attest to a widespread belief in the presence of perni-

cious demonic influences that cause diseases and other afflictions.72 They are

69  ‫רוחא באישא‬.

70  Cf Luke 4:40. See David Flusser, “Healing through the Laying-On of Hands in the Dead
Sea Scrolls,” in David Flusser, Judaism and the Origins of Christianity (Jerusalem: Magnes,
1988), 231–22; Joseph A. Fitzmyer, The Genesis Apocryphon of Qumran Cave 1 (1Q20), 3rd
ed. (Rome: Pontifical Biblical Institute, 2004), 102, 213; Machiela, The Dead Sea Genesis
Apocryphon, 76–77; Ida Fröhlich, “Medicine and Magic in Genesis Apocryphon: Ideas on
Human Conception and its Hindrances,” RevQ 25 (2011): 177–98, 193–95.
71  Ida Fröhlich notes that in both Tobit and the Genesis Apocryphon the prayer replaces
magical formulae current in magical exorcism. Cf. Fröhlich, “Medicine and Magic in
Genesis Apocryphon,” 195.
72  For general surveys, see Esther Eshel, “Demonology in Palestine during the Second
Temple Period,” (PhD diss., Hebrew University of Jerusalem, 1999) (Hebrew); Armin
Lange, “Considerations Concerning the ‘Spirit of Impurity’ in Zech 13:2,” in Die Dämonen/
Demons, ed. Armin Lange, Hermann Lichtenberger, and K.F. Diethard Römheld (Tübingen:
Mohr Siebeck, 2003), 354–68; Archie T. Wright, The Origin of Evil Spirits, WUNT II/198
(Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2005), 148–51; Miryam T. Brand, Evil Within and Without: The
Source of Sin and Its Nature as Portrayed in Second Temple Literature, JAJSup 9 (Göttingen:
Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2013), 149–217.
402 Dimant

obviously connected with notions of dualism to various degrees, an element

shared by a number of Aramaic works dealing with the patriarchs.73
The combat between good and evil is brought to the fore by a particular
depiction in the Visions of Amram. Relating the exploits of Amram in under-
taking the burial of his ancestors in Canaan, the work also narrates Amram’s
dream in which he sees two beings disputing over him: one, of “fearsome and
terrible”74 appearance, dark and grinning and attired in coloured clothes, is
in charge of Sons of Darkness, whereas his counterpart rules over the Sons of
Light (4Q543 5–9; 10–14; 4Q544 1 10–15; 2–3; 4Q547 1–2 10–13). The two dispute
over control of Amram but the latter is given the freedom to choose between
them as his leader. While this picture is not identical to the dualistic scene out-
lined by some Qumran sectarian texts, it is nevertheless a clear variant of a du-
alistic view of the world.75 Notwithstanding its peculiarity, the dualistic vision
of Amram adds to other dualistic notions espoused by many of the Aramaic
texts under consideration.

Burial

Another major theme in Tobit that has parallels in another Aramaic text is
the religious obligation to bury the dead. Tobit presents two aspects of this
duty: firstly, Tobi buries corpses of Jews left unburied in the public domain

73  Thus, we find the request “and] let not any satan have power over me” formulated by
Levi in his prayer recorded in the Aramaic Levi Document (4Q213a 1 17). The use of the
locution ‫“( כל שטן‬any satan”) indicates that “satan” is not a personal name but a class of
demons. A precise Hebrew parallel is found in the Qumran Hebrew apocryphal psalm
Plea for Deliverance, ‫“( אל תשלט בי שטן‬let no satan have power over me”; 11QPsa 19:15),
which suggests that also the Hebrew speaks of a type of demon but not of the being Satan.
Demonic activity is a favorite theme in the Hebrew sectarian writings from Qumran,
but there it is presented in the context of a broad dualist outlook. See the psalms to be
chanted to ward off demons (4Q510–4Q511) and the references to agents of the archde-
mon Belial who pursue the Sons of Light in sectarian texts (1QS 3:21–5; 1QM 12:10–14). In
the apocryphal Hebrew work, Apocryphon of Jeremiah C, a group of demonic beings,
“the angels of the Mastemoth,” is mentioned (‫ ;מלאכי המשטמות‬4Q387 2 iii 4; 4Q390 1 11; 2
i 7).
74  Following the reading of Edward Cook ‫( חזוה דחיל[ ואימ]תן‬4Q547 1–2 12). See Cook,
Dictionary of Qumran Aramaic (Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2015), 52.
75  See the discussions of Liora Goldman, “Dualism in the Visions of Amram,” RevQ 24 (2010):
421–32; Andrew B. Perrin, “Another Look at Dualism in 4QVisions of Amram,” Hen 36
(2014): 106–17.
Tobit and the Qumran Aramaic Texts 403

(Tob 1:17–19; 2:3–8; 12:12); secondly, he directs his son Tobiah to bury his parents
after their death (Tob 4:3–4; 14:9); Tobiah does so and also burries his wife’s
parents (Tob 14:10, 12, 18). The duty to bury one’s own parents certainly reflects
a Jewish practice current in both biblical (cf. Deut 21:3; note 1 Sam 31:12–13) and
post-biblical times. Tobit’s particular stress on this is also in line with the ap-
propriation of the patriarchal model in the Genesis stories. Abraham and Sarah
are buried together in the Machpela cave (Gen 23:19; 25:9–10), Abraham being
interred by his two sons. Isaac’s sons, Jacob and Esau, perform the burial of
their father (Gen 35:29), while Jacob is buried by his sons in the Machpela cave
(Gen 50:13). On leaving Egypt, Moses took Joseph’s bones with him in order to
bury them in Canaan (Exod 13:19) in fulfillment of Joseph’s request (Gen 50:25).
The central story of the Visions of Amram is built on this last episode, relat-
ing as it does Amram’s journey to Canaan to bury his ancestors. Jubilees also
knows this episode (Jub. 47:1–11).76
Yet Tobit’s stories about the burial of exposed Jewish corpses stem from a
different source. They mirror the Jewish obligation, the so-called met mitzvah,
to inter corpses for which burial has not been undertaken.77 Still, they are
part of a wider Jewish ethos of respect for the dead,78 shared by Tobit and the
Visions of Amram.

Legal Attitude

The last theme to be treated here, perhaps the most remarkable but the least
remarked upon in a comparative context, is the legal approach that typifies

76  Cf. Betsy Halpern-Amaru, “Burying the Fathers: Exegetical Strategies and Source
Traditions in Jubilees 46,” in Reworking the Bible: Apocryphal and Related Texts at Qumran,
ed. Esther G. Chazon, Devorah Dimant, and Ruth A. Clements, STDJ 58 (Leiden: Brill,
2005), 135–52. Halpern-Amaru concludes that the author of Jubilees knew the tradi-
tion of the trip to Canaan to bury the ancestors and adapted it to its own purpose (ibid.,
148–49). Similarly James C. VanderKam, “Jubilees 46:6–47:1 and 4QVisions of Amram,”
DSD 17 (2010): 141–58. In the opinion of Émile Puech, Jubilees actually knew the Visions
of Amram and drew upon it. See Puech, DJD 31:285. Similarly Cana Werman, “The Book
of Jubilees and Its Aramaic Sources,” Meghillot 8–9 (2010): 135–74, 154–58, 172 (Hebrew).
77  The obligation is mentioned by Josephus, Ag. Ap. 2.211. Cf. Mek. de Rashbi, Jethro 28, 20. The
prevalent view associates Tobi’s burial of corpses with the folktale “The Grateful Dead” (cf.
n. 12 above). However, the details of this tale hardly fit with Tobit’s plot, whereas the scene
depicted by the book is a typical situation for applying the met mitzvah directive.
78  See most recently János Bolyki, “Burial as an Ethical Task in the Book of Tobit, in the Bible
and in the Greek Tragedies,” in The Book of Tobit, 89–101.
404 Dimant

the Qumran Yaḥad but is shared also by Tobit and other Aramaic texts. The
most salient instance in Tobit is the list of cultic offerings and tithes Tobi used
to bring to the Jerusalem temple while he was still in his Galilean hometown
(Tob 1:6–8). Some of them are identical to particular halakhic regulations pre-
scribed in the sectarian texts. They are the following: 1) the obligation to bring
to the Jerusalem temple the donations allocated to the priests and the Levites.
Although it aligns with the old custom recorded in Neh 10:36–38; 12:44, it is
nevertheless remarkable that it is in contrast to the later practice of giving such
donations in various localities outside Jerusalem; 2) the tithe of the cattle as a
priestly donation, listed by Tobit, is also prescribed by Miqṣat Maʿaśe Ha-Torah
(4QMMT B 63–64),79 the Temple Scroll (11QTa 60:2–3),80 and one copy of
the Damascus Document (4Q270 2 ii 7–8).81 This tithe is also recorded in
2 Chr 31:5–6 and Philo, Spec. Laws 1.131–144, and enjoined by Jubilees (13:26–27;
32:15); 3) the agricultural tithe for the Levites, specified by Tobit (also laid down
in the Temple Scroll 60:6), a ruling that agrees with Tobi’s method.82 It is also
mandated in Jubilees (13:26); 4) Tobi’s custom of separating the second tithe
in every one of the six years in the sabbatical cycle, a practice also prescribed
in Jubilees (32:11) on the basis of Deut 14:22 is noteworthy. The Greek formula-
tion of GII does not make it clear whether another tithe is to be given, that to

79  See the comments of Yaakov Sussmann, “The History of Halakha and the Dead Sea
Scrolls—Preliminary Observations on Miqṣat Maʿaśe Ha-Torah (4QMMT),” Tarbiẓ 59
(1989): 11–76 (34–35) (Hebrew); Elisha Qimron, “The Halakha,” in Qimron and John
Strugnell, Qumran Cave 4.V: Miqṣat Maʿaśe Ha-Torah, DJD 10 (Oxford: Clarendon, 1994),
123–77, 165–66.
80  In the text edition of Elisha Qimron, The Dead Sea Scrolls: The Hebrew Writings (Jerusalem:
Yad Ben-Zvi Press, 2010), 1:199 (Hebrew). For a discussion, see Lawrence H. Schiffman,
“Miqṣat Maʿaśe Ha-Torah and the Temple Scroll,” RevQ 14 (1990): 435–57, 452–54; Shemesh,
“The Laws of the Firstborn,” 155–59.
81  Cf. Schiffman, “Miqṣat Maʿaśe Ha-Torah,” 452–54; Schiffman, “The Place of 4QMMT in
the Corpus of Qumran Manuscripts,” in Reading 4QMMT: New Perspectives on Qumran
Law and History, ed John Kampen and Moshe J. Bernstein (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1996),
81–98, 88, 95; Menachem Kister, “Some Aspects of Qumran Halakhah,” in The Madrid
Qumran Congress, ed. Julio Trebolle Barrera and Luis Vegas Montaner, STDJ 11/2 (Leiden:
Brill, 1992), 2:571–88, 579 n. 31; Shemesh, “The Laws of the Firstborn,” 155–56.
82  Cf. the discussions of Baumgarten, “The First and Second Tithes,” 6–10; Lawrence H.
Schiffman, “Priestly and Levitical Gifts in the Temple Scroll,” in The Provo International
Conference on the Dead Sea Scrolls: Technological Innovations, New Texts, and Reformulated
Issues, ed. Donald Parry and Eugene Ulrich, STDJ 30 (Leiden: Brill, 1999), 480–96, 484,
487–89. Yaakov Elman reconstructs a reference to the tithe of the Levites also in 4QMMT
B 3–5. Cf. Elman, “4QMMT B 3–5 and its Ritual Context,” DSD 6 (1999): 148–56, 152.
Tobit and the Qumran Aramaic Texts 405

the poor, replaced the second tithe or was additional to it. If it was additional
to it, Tobi’s procedure is analogous to instructions in the Temple Scroll (11QTa
43:4–10). In a passage based on Deut 14:22–26, this scroll views the second tithe
as part of the celebration of the first fruits festivals, implying a yearly obliga-
tion to bring it to the temple,83 as, in fact, did Tobi. This stands in contrast to
rabbinic halakhah, which mandated that in the third and sixth years of the
cycle the second tithe is replaced by the tithe for the poor. While these affini-
ties between Tobit and other contemporary works may be explained, as they
were, as reflecting an older halakhah, when they are viewed in the context of
the Qumran Aramaic corpus they add to the list of other links to the Qumran
community.
Thus, a similar link with sectarian halakhah may be observed in the Genesis
Apocryphon 12:13–15. This passage relates that Noah used the fruits of the vine-
yard he planted (cf. Gen 9:20) in the fourth year of its planting. The same story
is introduced also in Jub. 7:1–7. If we assume that Noah officiated as a priest,
the story reflects the sectarian rule that prescribed that the fourth-year fruits
be given to the priests (cf. Lev 19:23–25) as stated in 11QTa 60:3–4, 4QMMT B
62–64, and Jub. 7:35–37. The fruits do not belong to the owner, as it would have
in the rabbinic halakhah.84 Finally, it must be noted that the 364-day calen-
dar, one of the specific features of the Qumran community practice (4QMMT
[4Q394 3–7]; see 11QPsa 27:4–6) and Jubilees (Jub. 6:32), is also espoused
by the Enochic Astronomical Book (= 1 En. 74:12) and Aramaic Levi Document.
The Enochic material has been widely discussed85 but not so the passage from
ALD. There, the births of Levi’s sons are given according to this calendar.86

83  Cf. Yigael Yadin, The Temple Scroll (Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 1977), 1:10–11.
84  Cf. the discussions of Joseph M. Baumgarten, “The Laws of ‘Orlah and First Fruits in the
Light of Jubilees, the Qumran Writings, and Targum Ps. Jonathan,” JJS 38 (1987): 195–202,
197–99; Menahem Kister, “Some Aspects of Qumran Halakhah,” in The Madrid Qumran
Congress, ed. Julio Trebolle Barrera and Luis Vegas Montaner, STDJ 11/2 (Leiden: Brill,
1992), 571–88, 581–86; Michael Segal, The Book of Jubilees, JSJSup 117 (Leiden: Brill, 2007),
17–9. Kister and Segal discuss the slight differences between the Jubilees narrative account
of Noah’s actions (Jub. 7:1–7) and the Jubilees passage that lays down the halakhah of the
fourth-year fruits (Jub. 7:35–37), but they do not discuss the issue under consideration.
85  See recently Jonathan Ben-Dov, Head of All Years: Astronomy and Calendars at Qumran in
their Ancient Context, STDJ 78 (Leiden: Brill, 2008).
86  The text is preserved in the Cambridge Genizah manuscript (col. c). For the text, see
Puech, “Le Testament de Lévi en araméen de la Geniza du Caire,” 535; Greenfield, Stone,
and Eshel, Aramaic Levi Document, 94–96. On the use of the calendar in this passage, see
Greenfield, Stone, and Eshel, ibid., 189.
406 Dimant

Conclusion

Having gone over a wide array of thematic similarities that link the Qumran
Aramaic texts, we may now offer a tentative conclusion. The foregoing survey
shows that a network of themes and issues associates Tobit with the following
Aramaic works: 1 Enoch, Aramaic Levi Document, Testament of Qahat, Visions
of Amram, and the Genesis Apocryphon. This fact renders Tobit a member of
this group not only in terms of the Aramaic language but also in subject mat-
ter and orientation. Now, beside Tobit, all the other works deal with biblical
patriarchs or ancient sages. Therefore, by virtue of their links to Tobit, these
Aramaic patriarchal works shed an interesting light on Tobit’s general literary
framework, modeled as it is on precisely the same source, namely, biblical pa-
triarchal stories. Given this fact, the question arises as to why a non-biblical
protagonist was adopted, and one from the northern tribes. Perhaps the an-
swer lies in the other facet of Tobit that is not discussed here, namely, its affin-
ity to court tales, which require a Diaspora setting.
A question no less significant relates to the precise nature of Tobit’s relation-
ship to the Qumran library, especially since it does not use any of the vocabulary
and terminology specific to the sectarian texts. In fact, this is a question that is
pertinent to the entire Aramaic corpus found among the Scrolls. As for Tobit,
besides its presence at Qumran, the links it displays to the sectarian halakhah
and Jubilees are notable. These facts suggest that Tobi’s practices while living
in Galilee were not just a reflection of the general ancient halakhah but may
point to a specific relationship with circles close to the Qumran community.
The same may be true of at least some and perhaps all of the Aramaic texts
from Qumran.
Metaphor and Eschatology: Life beyond Death
in the Hodayot

John J. Collins

Life beyond death is an elusive subject. To adapt a couple of Pauline phrases, it

belongs to the things that “eye has not seen nor ear heard” (1 Cor 2:9), that we
only see “in a glass, darkly” (1 Cor 13:12). Much, if not all, that can be said about
it is metaphorical, extrapolated by analogy with some experience in the pres-
ent. For that reason, it is sometimes difficult to know how language about life
after death should be construed, and whether it is even possible to distinguish
between literal and metaphorical statements on this subject. Nowhere has this
difficulty been more evident than in the study of the Hodayot or Thanksgiving
Hymns in the Dead Sea Scrolls. There has been a long-standing debate as to
whether the Hodayot attest a hope for bodily resurrection, a view championed
especially by Émile Puech,1 or should rather be interpreted in terms of some
kind of realized eschatology, as a present experience.2 In his contribution to
Puech’s 2006 Festschrift, George Brooke asked whether this debate “might
have been based on false definitions and misconceived dichotomies.”3 He
suggests that

what is interesting about the use of the language of bodily resurrection is

not whether the author or authors of the Hodayot believed in an escha-
tological physical resuscitation but to consider what meaningful purpose

1  Émile Puech, La croyance des Esséniens en la vie future: Immortalité, résurrection, vie éternelle
EB 22 (Paris: Gabalda, 1993), 335–419.
2  Heinz-Wolfgang Kuhn, Enderwartung und gegenwärtiges Heil, SUNT 4 (Göttingen:
Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1966), 44–88; George W.E. Nickelsburg, Resurrection, Immortality
and Eternal Life in Intertestamental Judaism and Early Christianity, 2nd ed., HTS 56
(Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2006), 181–93; John J. Collins, Apocalypticism in the
Dead Sea Scrolls (London: Routledge, 1997), 111–28; Collins, “Conceptions of Afterlife in the
Dead Sea Scrolls,” in Lebendige Hoffnung—Ewiger Tod?! Jenseitsvorstellungen im Hellenismus,
Judentum und Christentum, ed. Michael Labahn and Manfred Lang, Arbeiten zur Bibel und
ihrer Geschichte 24 (Leipzig: Evangelische Verlagsanstalt, 2007), 103–25 (esp. 113–18).
3  George J. Brooke, “The Structure of 1QHa XII–XIII 4 and the Meaning of Resurrection,” in
From 4QMMT to Resurrection: Mélanges qumraniens en homage à Émile Puech, ed. Florentino
García Martínez, Annette Steudel, and Eibert Tigchelaar STDJ 61 (Leiden: Brill, 2006),
15–33, 15.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ���7 | doi ��.��63/9789004344532_023

408 Collins

the appropriation of such language by the implied speakers actually

signified.4

George’s own Festschrift seems an appropriate occasion to take up the ques-

tions he has posed.

What Do We Mean by Resurrection?

It is generally agreed that the expectation of a meaningful afterlife, involv-

ing the judgment of the dead was current in Judea before the Hodayot were
written, assuming that they originated no earlier than the late second century
BCE.5 The main witnesses to this expectation are found in the apocalypses of
Daniel and Enoch (Dan 12:1–3; 1 Enoch 22; 91:10; 102–104).6 The language used
to describe life beyond death can vary. In Daniel, “many of those who sleep
in the land of dust will awake, and the wise will shine with the brightness of
the sky and be like the stars forever.” According to the Epistle of Enoch (103:4)
“the souls of the pious who have died will come to life, and they will rejoice
and be glad, and their spirits will not perish.” Further, the gates of heaven will
be opened to them, and they will become companions to the stars of heaven.
Jub. 23:31 says of the righteous: “their bones will rest in the earth and their spir-
its will have much joy.” All of these were early formulations of a hope that went
beyond human experience and there was no orthodoxy as to how it should be
imagined. This, after all, was a matter of imagination, not of observation.
The case of Daniel already shows how slippery the language of resurrection
can be. The formulation is thoroughly metaphorical. The language of awaken-
ing is borrowed from Isa 26:19: “Your dead shall live, their corpses shall rise.
O dwellers in the dust, awake and sing for joy!” There is no consensus as to
whether the passage in Isaiah refers to the resurrection of individuals, or is

4  Brooke, “The Structure of 1QHa XII–XIII 4,” 19.

5  The oldest surviving manuscript is dated by paleography to the first quarter of the first century
BCE. See Émile Puech, “Hodayot,” in The Encyclopedia of the Dead Sea Scrolls, ed. Lawrence H.
Schiffman and James C. VanderKam (New York: Oxford, 2000), 2:365–69 (discussion of dating
on 366); Eileen M. Schuller, “Hodayot (1QH and Related Texts),” in The Eerdmans Dictionary
of Early Judaism, ed. John J. Collins and Daniel C. Harlow (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010),
747–49, discussion of dating on 747.
6  Nickelsburg, Resurrection, Immortality and Eternal Life, 23–43; 143–51; Collins, Apocalypticism
in the Dead Sea Scrolls, 12–29; Collins, “Conceptions of Afterlife,” 103–6.
Metaphor and Eschatology 409

rather a metaphor for the recovery of the people.7 The deciding factor is con-
text. Ezekiel 37, in a vision of a valley full of dry bones, used vivid language of
resurrection (37:7: “the bones came together, bone to its bone”). But then the
visionary is told: “these bones are the whole house of Israel . . . I am going to
open your graves, O my people, and I will bring you back to the land of Israel.”
From this it appears that the resurrection in question is the restoration of
Israel from the Exile, not the resurrection of individuals. Conversely, Dan 12:1–3
follows a passage in Daniel 11 that describes how the faithful will lose their lives
in a time of persecution. When we read in Dan 12:2 that some of those who
awake will enjoy everlasting life, while others will suffer shame and everlasting
contempt, it seems clear that the reference is to the reward and punishment of
individuals after death. There is no consensus about the reference of Isa 26:19,
because the context is not clear.8 The passage uses the language of resurrection
from the dead, but it could, in principle, refer to the restoration of the people,
like Ezekiel 37.
In a recent Manchester dissertation directed by Todd Klutz, but with input
from George Brooke, Fred Tappenden notes that “in many instances, it is not en-
tirely clear what constitutes the concept of resurrection.”9 Tappenden objects
to the usual practice of distinguishing literal from metaphorical resurrection,
most commonly with a trajectory that runs from earlier metaphorical to later
literal notions. He argues that “such parsing of literal and metaphorical is both
theoretically problematic and theologically imprecise.”10 The literal resurrec-
tion” is always in waiting and only propositionally grasped as a metaphor in the
present.”11 Tappenden’s use of metaphor follows that of Lakoff and Johnson,

7  See J. J. M. Roberts, First Isaiah, Hermeneia (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2015), 332–33, who fa-
vors a collective interpretation. Puech, La Croyance, 66–73, regards an individual interpre-
tation as certain. Joseph Blenkinsopp, Isaiah 1–39, AB 19 (New York: Doubleday, 2000), 371,
takes the original meaning to be a metaphor for the return of the people from the Exile,
but suggests that the text in its final form expresses a belief in individual resurrection.
8  The so-called “Apocalypse of Isaiah,” Isaiah 24–27, has been dated anywhere from the
late eighth century to the Hasmonean era. Roberts, First Isaiah, 306–7, dates it to the late
seventh or early sixth century. Most scholars date it somewhat later. Blenkinsopp, Isaiah
1–39, 348, suggests that the composition went through several drafts, beginning with the
fall of Babylon to the Persians.
9  Frederick S. Tappenden, Resurrection in Paul: Cognition, Metaphor, and Transformation,
ECL 19 (Atlanta: SBL Press, 2016), 9.
10  Tappenden, Resurrection, 11.
11  Tappenden, Resurrection, 11.
410 Collins

for whom metaphor is a central aspect of human cognition.12 They focus on

conceptual metaphors, which are grounded in patterns of embodiment and
structured in relation to recurrent schemata.13 Accordingly, Tappenden claims
that “a recurrent constellation of concepts and image schemata, when taken
together as a Gestalt, constitutes the concept of resurrection.”14 These include
“the Verticality schema” (“resurrection is up, death is down”) and the concep-
tual metaphors “life is being awake/conscious, death is sleep/unconscious-
ness.” Another conceptual metaphor is that of celestial luminosity, which is
related to the contrast between light and darkness. Again, Tappenden claims
that the verticality schema can also be applied to ethno-geographic restora-
tion. Land is Life (up) and Exile is Death (down). Another image schematic
structure is the “Path schema” or “source-path-goal schema.” The Path schema
is pervasive in human experience; as Johnson notes “our lives are filled with
paths that connect up our spatial world.”15 The Path schema provides the con-
cept of resurrection with a horizontal axis, which complements the verticality
schema, at both macro- and micro levels. At the macro-level “the most com-
mon expression of the Path schema is via the structuring of time as progress-
ing toward a looming divine visitation.”16 In some instances, the source and
goal elements of the Path schema are characterized by such values as present
conflict and judgment, respectively. At the micro-level, Tappenden relates the
Path schema to postmortem transformation. So, for example, in Daniel and 1
Enoch the metaphor of celestial luminosity entails a transformation to a state
not previously enjoyed. Such transformation is often expressed as a movement,
from one location to another. It is also necessary to account for the different
states before and after transformation. Such states, according to Tappenden,
are commonly conceptualized via the Container schema, which is oriented
along a simple in-boundary-out axis. A further refinement is related to “the
Proximity, or Near-Far schema.”17 “Life is understood as being near to some-
thing (Life is near) while death is marked by a certain degree of separation and
distance (Death is far).18 The biblical ideal of enjoyment of the divine presence

12  George Lakoff and Mark Johnson, Metaphors We Live By (Chicago: University of Chicago,
1980); Lakoff and Johnson, Philosophy in the Flesh: The Embodied Mind and its Challenge to
Western Thought (New York: Basic Books, 1999).
13  Tappenden, Resurrection, 13.
14  Tappenden, Resurrection, 52.
15  Mark Johnson, The Body in the Mind: The Bodily Basis of Meaning, Imagination, and Reason
(Chicago: University of Chicago, 1987), 113; Tappenden, Resurrection, 62.
16  Tappenden, Resurrection, 64–65.
17  Tappenden, Resurrection, 74.
18  Tappenden, Resurrection, 74.
Metaphor and Eschatology 411

(e.g., in Psalm 73) is an instance of this “Proximity schema,” while death is con-
ceptualized as distance from YHWH.
Tappenden’s argument, then, is that the various expressions of resurrec-
tion beliefs in Second Temple Judaism are structured by the Verticality, Path
and Proximity schemata, which blend together to form a Gestalt. He grants
that this structure is quite general, even abstract.19 More specificity is supplied
through the cultural context of particular expressions of resurrection, such
as persecution. Nonetheless, this structure seems to me to be of very limited
value for actually distinguishing texts that speak of resurrection from those
that do not. Tappenden offers an example of such a distinction by pointing
out that the hope for immortality in the Wisdom of Solomon lacks the Path
schema, and is premised on persistence of identity rather than transformation.
“Notions of an eschatological judgment are obscured in favour of a much more
immediate realization of death and life (cf. 1.12, 15, 16), thus muting (perhaps
omitting) the macro-PATH.”20 Other cases, such as 1 Enoch 22 and Jubilees 23,
are ambivalent. Tappenden concludes:

it is perhaps wrong to ask if resurrection is present in these texts; rather, it

is better to recognize that passages such as these contain certain concep-
tual constellations that, when taken together, enable readers to identify
resurrection therein.21

But this is not very satisfactory. For two thousand years Christians have identi-
fied Hosea 6 as a text that speaks of resurrection, while this was clearly not
what the text meant in its original context. An analytic method that does
not enable us to resolve cases such as Jubilees 23 does not really shed much
light on the question of when a text speaks of resurrection.
Tappenden’s schemata (up-down, the path, etc.) are certainly applicable to
resurrection language, but they are applicable to many other things too.22 They
basically relate to the co-ordinates of time and space, in which much of human

19  Tappenden, Resurrection, 80.

20  Ibid., 83.
21  Ibid., 85.
22  Compare, e.g., the temporal and spatial axes in the morphology of apocalypses, in John
J. Collins, ed., Apocalypse: The Morphology of a Genre, Semeia 14 (Missoula, MT: Scholars
Press, 1979), 6–7, but these coordinates can be applied very widely. Compare also Michael
E. Vines, “The Apocalyptic Chronotope,” in Bakhtin and Genre Theory in Biblical Studies,
ed. Roland Boer, Semeia Studies 63 (Atlanta: SBL Press, 2007), 109–17, on the significance
of the way space and time are constructed.
412 Collins

experience is organized. They apply equally well to the theme of return from
exile, as indeed Tappenden admits. The conceptual metaphors of awakening
and celestial luminosity are more helpful, but these are by no means the only
or necessary metaphors through which resurrection can be expressed. In order
to appreciate the nuances of resurrection in a text like the Hodayot, it is nec-
essary to operate on a lower level of abstraction, with more attention to the
specifics of the cultural context.

Josephus on the Essenes

To a great degree, the debate about resurrection in the Hodayot has been
framed by Josephus’s account of the Jewish sects, and their differing views
about the afterlife.23 The Pharisees allegedly regarded every soul as immortal,
“but the soul of the good alone passes into another body, while the souls of the
wicked suffer eternal punishment” ( J.W. 2.163). On the Essenes, he writes: “For
it is a fixed belief of theirs that the body is corruptible and its constituent mat-
ter impermanent but that the soul is immortal and imperishable” ( J.W. 2.155).
He goes on to say that

for virtuous souls there is reserved an abode beyond the ocean, a place
which is not oppressed by rain or snow or heat but is refreshed by the
ever gentle breath of the west wind coming in from ocean; while they
relegate base souls to a murky and tempestuous dungeon, big with never-
ending punishments.

He compares this explicitly with Greek mythology.24 There is no doubt that the
account is Hellenized for the benefit of Greco-Roman readers. This can be seen
clearly in the case of the Pharisees, who believed in the resurrection of the
body, not the transmigration of souls. Nonetheless, as Jonathan Klawans has
pointed out, Josephus is rather emphatic that the Pharisaic view of resurrec-
tion goes beyond mere immortality and entails some form of bodily renewal.

23  Casey D. Elledge, Life after Death in Early Judaism: The Evidence of Josephus (Tübingen:
Mohr Siebeck, 2006), 53–80; Jonathan Klawans, Josephus and the Theologies of Ancient
Judaism (New York: Oxford University Press, 2012), 100–15; Joseph Sievers, “Josephus and
the Afterlife,” in Understanding Josephus: Seven Perspectives, ed. Steve Mason, JSPSup 32,
(Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1998), 20–31.
24  See Elledge, Life after Death, 100.
Metaphor and Eschatology 413

This renewal does not take place immediately on death, but after the “revolu-
tion of the ages”—presumably the end-time. Klawans comments:

the delayed implementation of this second stage of the afterlife is a sec-

ond way these two passages explicitly reach beyond the more straight-
forward beliefs in immortality of the soul, coming much closer to the
two-stage process involved in resurrection of the dead.25

In contrast, “Josephus’s descriptions of the Essenes’ beliefs are consistently dif-

ferent” from this.26
There has been long-standing debate as to whether Josephus’s account
of Essene expectations corresponds to what we find in the sectarian scrolls
from Qumran. Puech, who strongly supports the view that the sectarians
were Essenes, argues that their views are represented more accurately by
Hippolytus, who attributes to them belief in resurrection.27 But Hippolytus
was most probably correcting Josephus’s account to bring it into line with what
he understood to be common Jewish and Christian belief.28 Many, perhaps
most scholars, hold that the sectarians believed neither in resurrection nor im-
mortality of the soul but rather eternal life.29
The correspondence between Josephus and the Scrolls on the subject of the
afterlife is clearly not complete.30 Nowhere in the Scrolls do we read of the Isles
of the Blest. Nonetheless, the account of the afterlife in the Instruction on the
Two Spirits in Serek ha-Yaḥad bears some noteworthy similarity to Josephus’s
account. There we read:

As for the visitation of all who walk in this spirit, it shall be healing, great
peace in a long life, and fruitfulness, together with every everlasting bless-
ing and eternal joy in life without end, a crown of glory and a garment of
majesty in unending light (1QS 4:6–7).

25  Klawans, Josephus, 111.

26  Klawans, Josephus, 111. See further my essay “The Essenes and the Afterlife,” in my book,
Scriptures and Sectarianism: Essays on the Dead Sea Scrolls, WUNT 332 (Tübingen: Mohr
Siebeck, 2014), 212–26 (originally published in García Martínez et al., eds., From 4QMMT
to Resurrection, 35–53).
27  Hippolytus, Ref. 9.27; Puech, La Croyance, 703–87.
28  Collins, “The Essenes and the Afterlife,” 216. See also Klawans, Josephus, 223–28.
29  See Nickelsburg, Resurrection, Immortality, and Eternal Life, 205–9.
30  See further Collins, “The Essenes and the Afterlife,” 217–19.
414 Collins

For the wicked, there will be

a multitude of plagues by the hand of all the destroying angels, everlast-

ing damnation by the avenging wrath of the fury of God, eternal torment
and endless disgrace together with shameful extinction in the fire of the
dark regions. The times of all their generations shall be spent in sorrowful
mourning and in bitter misery and in calamities of darkness until they
are destroyed without remnant or survivor (1QS 4:12–13).31

The account in the Scroll is not free of ambiguity. The righteous are promised
long life and fruitfulness, presumably in this life, as well as eternal joy in life
without end.32 The point of analogy with the account in Josephus is that eternal
life in unending light does not seem to involve a resurrection of a body of flesh
and blood, while the wicked, in both Josephus’s account and the Instruction
are condemned to dark regions, again with no prospect of resurrection.
What is envisioned in the Scroll, however, is not quite immortality of the
soul in the Platonic sense. Post-mortem existence is still embodied, and this
is expressed through the imagery of garments of majesty and light. Indeed,
even Josephus’s account of the blessed abode beyond the ocean would seem to
require an embodied state to appreciate the mild climate, and conforms more
to popular Greek mythology than to Platonic philosophy. As Dale Martin has
shown, even philosophers usually speak of the soul as if it were composed of
some kind of “stuff,” often conceived as fiery or airy, or akin to the stars.33
My concern here, however, is not with the question whether the sectarian
Scrolls should be attributed to the Essenes.34 Josephus’s account has undoubt-
edly framed the discussion of the eschatology of the Scrolls, insofar as it has
flagged a contrast between the Essenes and the Pharisees, in the matter of
bodily resurrection. My present concern, however, is with the eschatology
of the sectarian Scrolls, regardless of whether they are thought to correspond
to the Essenes.

31  Geza Vermes, The Complete Dead Sea Scrolls in English, rev. ed. (London: Penguin, 2004),
102.
32  See Jean Duhaime, “La Doctrine des Esséniens de Qumrân sur l’après-mort,” in Essais
sur la Mort, ed. Guy Couturier, André Charron, and Guy Durand, (Montreal: Fides, 1985),
99–121.
33  Dale B. Martin, The Corinthian Body (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1995), 104–36,
esp. 115.
34  I believe they should be. See my book, Beyond the Qumran Community: The Sectarian
Movement of the Dead Sea Scrolls (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010), 122–65.
Metaphor and Eschatology 415

Afterlife in the Sectarian Scrolls

The account in the Instruction on the Two Spirits differs from classic resurrec-
tion accounts such as Daniel 12 or 2 Maccabees 7 in its choice of metaphors.
The difference does not lie in the bodily form of the afterlife. Daniel 12, con-
trary to what is often assumed, does not speak of a body of flesh and blood.35
The wise, who shine like the brightness of the sky and are like the stars,
presumably have luminous bodies, much like the “garments of majesty” in
the Instruction. Similarly, the righteous in the Epistle of Enoch “will shine
like the luminaries of heaven” (1 En. 104:2). The very physical depiction of res-
urrection in 2 Maccabees 7, where the martyrs hope to recover their limbs in
the resurrection, is in fact the outlier in accounts of the afterlife in Jewish texts
from the second century BCE. More typical is what St. Paul would later call a
“spiritual body” (1 Cor 15:44), luminous and composed of some fine ethereal
substance.
Rather, where the Instruction on the Two Spirits differs from resurrection
accounts is in its failure to note the kind of transition marked by the metaphor
of awakening in Daniel 12 and 1 En. 91:10, or allow for a sojourn of the righteous
dead in Sheol, as in 1 En. 102:5, or even of dying and coming to life, as in 1 En.
103:4. Resurrection, in any bodily form, presupposes death, and the remark-
able thing about the sectarian scrolls is their failure to acknowledge death as a
punctuation mark in the transition to eternal life. Consequently the eschatol-
ogy of the sectarian scrolls is often described, not as immortality of the soul as
in Josephus’s Hellenized account of the Essenes, but as realized eschatology.36

Realized Eschatology in the Hodayot

The locus classicus of realized eschatology in the Scrolls is found in several pas-
sages in the Hodayot. A good example is found in 1QHa 11:20–23:

I thank you, Lord, that you have redeemed my life from the pit, and from
Sheol-Abaddon you have lifted me up to an eternal height, so that I walk
about on a limitless plain. I know that there is hope for one whom you
have formed from the dust for an eternal council. And a perverted spirit

35  See my commentary, Daniel: A Commentary on the Book of Daniel, Hermeneia

(Minneapolis: Fortress, 1993), 390–94.
36  So especially Kuhn, Enderwartung, 44–88, and Nickelsburg, Resurrection, Immortality and
Eternal Life, 181–93.
416 Collins

you have purified from great sin that it might take its place with the host
of the holy ones and enter into community with the congregation of the
children of heaven.37

Insofar as the hymn speaks of transfer from the pit and exaltation to a limitless
plain, it may reasonably be said to use resurrection language.
The remarkable thing about this passage is that the speaker is apparently
giving thanks for something already accomplished. The hymn does not appear
to be ascribed to someone who is already dead. It goes on to say that “the soul
of the poor one dwells with tumults in abundance, and disastrous calamities
dog my steps” (11:26). How then is the exaltation to the heavenly host to be
imagined? One possibility is that it is proleptic. The hymnist uses the perfect
tense for salvation that is assured, even if it is still in the future. But it is also
possible that the hymnist is claiming to experience this salvation already in the
present. This possibility is strengthened by the Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice,
which describes the heavenly liturgy of the angelic host, suggesting that the
earthly community can commune with the angels in their worship.38 In that
case, the resurrection language does not have the force of a prediction but
rather expresses a present experience of the community.
An even more pointed example of the conjunction of resurrection language
and present experience is found in 1QHa 19:13–16:

For the sake of your glory you have purified a mortal from sin so that
he may sanctify himself for you from all impure abominations and from
faithless guilt, so that he might be united with the children of your truth
and in the lot with your holy ones, to raise from the dust the worm of
the dead to an [everlasting] community, and from a depraved spirit, to
your knowledge, so that he can take his place in your presence with the
perpetual host.39

37  Hartmut Stegemann with Eileen Schuller, Qumran Cave I.III: 1 QHodayota with Incorpora-
tion of 1QHodayotb and 4QHodayota-f, DJD 40 (Oxford: Clarendon, 2009), 155. Translation of
texts by Carol Newsom.
38  See the classic studies of Carol A. Newsom, Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice: A Critical
Edition (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1985) and Philip Alexander, The Mystical Texts: Songs
of the Sabbath Sacrifice and Related Manuscripts, Library of Second Temple Studies 61
(London: T&T Clark International, 2006), 13–61.
39  Translation adapted from DJD 40:248.
Metaphor and Eschatology 417

The expression “to raise from the dust the worm of the dead” is clearly res-
urrection language. The question is, how it should be understood? Is this the
destiny in store for those who have been purified?40 In that case, it need not,
of course, be taken literally, but it would refer to a transformation that is ex-
pected in the future. Alternatively, is it rather a metaphorical description of a
transformation that has already taken place? The expression “be united” (‫)הוחד‬
suggests that the communion with the sons of heaven takes place in the Yaḥad,
or community. Compare 1QS 11:8: “He unites their assembly to the sons of the
heavens in order (to form) the council of the community” (‫)עצת יחד‬.
The “worm of the dead” also appears in 1 QHa 14:37:
“Those who lie in the dust raise up a standard, and the worms of the dead
lift up a banner . . .”41 There is an allusion here to Isa 26:19, which refers to those
who dwell in the dust. There is also an allusion to Isa 41:14: “do not fear, worm
of Jacob, men of Israel.” (The Hebrew for “men” here is ‫מתי‬, a rare word that
only occurs in the construct plural and has the same consonants as the more
familiar word for “dead ones”). In Isa 41, the addressees are in distress, but they
are not dead. In this instance, the case for reading this passage as a reference to
future resurrection is strengthened by the context, as the passage about those
who lie in the dust comes at the end of a description of the eschatological
battle and judgment, where we might expect a reference to resurrection by
analogy with the apocalypses.42 But the argument is not conclusive. Those
who lie in the dust could still be the downcast, who are exhorted to take heart
in confidence that God will prevail.

1QHa 12:6–13:6

George Brooke has sought to address the use of resurrection language in the
Hodayot by an analysis of 1QHa 12:6–13:6, where the resurrection language is
more subtle.43 The hymn begins by thanking God for illumination: “I thank
you Lord for you have illumined my face for your covenant.” Much of the
hymn, however, is concerned to draw a sharp contrast between the author and

40  So Puech, La Croyance, 375–81.

41  D JD 40:197.
42  Puech, La Croyance, 361–63.
43  Brooke, “The Structure of 1QHa XII–XIII 4.” Note that I follow the verse numbering of DJD
40, which differs from that in use when Brooke wrote his article.
418 Collins

“deceitful interpreters” who lead God’s people astray.44 They have, moreover,
driven out the hymnist from his land, like a bird from his nest (12:10).45 These
people inquire of God by means of lying prophets, who are themselves se-
duced by error (12:17). These people, we are told, “have not chosen the wa[y of]
your [heart] and they have not listened to your word, for they say of the vision
of knowledge, ‘It is not certain,’ and of the way of your heart, ‘It is not that’.”
(12:17–19). The hymnist affirms that God “will answer them, judging them in
your strength” (12:19–20). All deceitful people will be cut off. In contrast, “Those
who are in harmony with you will stand before you forever, and those who
walk in the way of your heart will be established everlastingly” (12:22–23). The
hymnist affirms: “as for me when I hold fast to you, I stand strong and rise up
against those who despise me” (12:23). Later in the hymn, however, the speaker
recounts his experience as traumatic:

But as for me, trembling and quaking have seized me, and all my bones
shatter. My heart melts like wax before the fire, and my knees give way
like water hurtling down a slope. For I remember my guilty acts together
with the unfaithfulness of my ancestors, when the wicked rose against
your covenant and the vile against your word. And I said, “In my sin I have
been abandoned, far from your covenant.” But when I remembered the
strength of your hand together with your abundant compassion, I stood
strong and rose up, and my spirit held fast to (its) station (‫אקומה ורוחי‬
‫ )החזיקה במעמד‬in the face of affliction (12:34–37).

Brooke stresses the echoes of Isaiah 53, in this poem (e.g. 12:9, “they have no
regard for me”), which have also been stressed by Michael Wise.46 Like Wise,
Brooke infers that the speaker is thinking of himself in terms of the Isaianic
servant, and he also infers that the motifs of death and life that are prominent
in the Isaianic poem carry over to the hymn. The author’s hope that he will
“stand” is said to be “resonant with the language of bodily resurrection.”47 More
specifically, “the standing position of the poet naturally evokes the second

44  See especially Carol A. Newsom, The Self as Symbolic Space: Constructing Identity and
Community at Qumran, STDJ 52 (Leiden: Brill, 2004), 312–25.
45  For the argument that this hymn should be attributed to the Teacher of Righteousness,
see Michael C. Douglas, “The Teacher Hymn Hypothesis Revisited: New Data for an Old
Crux,” DSD 6 (1999): 239–66.
46  Michael O. Wise, The First Messiah: Investigating the Savior Before Jesus (San Francisco:
Harper, 1999), 290.
47  Brooke “The Structure of 1QHa XII–XIII 4,” 28.
Metaphor and Eschatology 419

motif of judgment; God’s action as judge is an anticipation of the eschatologi-

cal judgment after resurrection.”48 The later part of the poem

is a reliving of the experience of anticipated resurrection. The speaker

imagines with great intensity the terror of dying; he shakes and trembles
and melts away . . . he is surprised to find that he arises and can stand, the
very same physical position that has introduced this reflection on hope.
However in the recapitulation of the motif there is a sense of vindica-
tion and victory. This kind of physical standing is similar to but differ-
ent from that which will be experienced by all for the resurrection for
judgment.49

Brooke goes on to outline five aspects of the “resurrection” in question. It in-

volves illumination or enlightenment; there is a concern with knowledge; the
resurrection motifs involve a form of commissioning; there is an ongoing abil-
ity to stand; and the poet returns to the motif of human unworthiness before
the divine. Standing, claims Brooke,

serves two purposes. In the first place, as for all people, this standing up
is resurrection for judgment so that immediately after its first mention
God’s action as judge is described. In the second place standing is the
posture for the one who has been vindicated in judgment. The physi-
cal activity of continuing to stand after judgment is an indication of the
function of the vindicated in the afterlife: they will stand with the angels
in worship of the divine.50

Whether all reference to “rising” is necessarily resurrection language is open

to question. In any case, the “rising” here is clearly restoration in this life, not
life after death. Brooke’s argument depends on his assertion that “this kind of
physical standing is similar to but different from that which will be experi-
enced by all for the resurrection of judgment.”51 He seems to assume, without
argument, that the eschatological judgment is preceded by resurrection, and
that the hymnist is evoking this future resurrection to express his transforma-
tion in this life. But in fact the poem does not say anything about a future resur-
rection. It does make claims about eternal life. Those who are in harmony with

48  Brooke “The Structure of 1QHa XII–XIII 4,” 28.

49  Brooke “The Structure of 1QHa XII–XIII 4,” 28–29.
50  Brooke “The Structure of 1QHa XII–XIII 4,” 30.
51  Brooke “The Structure of 1QHa XII–XIII 4,” 29.
420 Collins

God will stand before him and be established forever (12:22–23), and so Brooke
is correct that “there is apparently vindication beyond death that motivates
and enhances a transformed life now.”52 But the emphasis here is on continuity
with the restored state in the present. There is no suggestion that the author’s
standing in the presence of God will be interrupted by death and that a further
restoration will be necessary.
Brooke is also correct that “those who collected the scrolls . . . knew about
scriptural and contemporary views of eschatological bodily resurrection,”53
and that this knowledge informs hymns such as we find in 1QHa 12. He assumes
that they used this knowledge to suggest an analogy between the transforma-
tion the author had undergone in the present and that which he and everyone
else would undergo in the future. But Brooke has not, as far as I can see, of-
fered any evidence that the author still affirmed bodily resurrection, in what-
ever form of body, as something to be experienced after death. The alternative
reading, that the author believed he had already passed from death to life, and
that death would not interrupt his “standing” in the presence of God, remains
possible, at least, and requires us to read fewer assumptions into the text. The
“risen” life in the presence certainly entailed illumination, divine knowledge,
etc. as Brooke has elegantly shown, and the writer expected this transforma-
tion to endure after death. But at least in this hymn he was not suggesting an
analogy between his experience and a future resurrection. Rather, he was sug-
gesting that the real resurrection had already occurred in the transformation
he had experienced in this life.

Conclusion

George Brooke has advanced the study of resurrection in the Dead Sea Scrolls
by pressing the question “what meaningful purpose the appropriation of such
language by the implied speakers actually signified.”54 His analysis of 1QHa 12
shows clearly that resurrection language is often used to express experienc-
es in this life, a point that is also made by Fred Tappenden in his analysis of
resurrection language in Paul.55 Should we therefore assume that the choice

52  Brooke “The Structure of 1QHa XII–XIII 4,” 32.

53  Brooke “The Structure of 1QHa XII–XIII 4,” 33.
54  Brooke “The Structure of 1QHa XII–XIII 4,” 19.
55  Tappenden, Resurrection, 203–66.
Metaphor and Eschatology 421

between resurrection as metaphor for present experience and expectation of

resurrection after death is based on a false dichotomy?
I think not. It is quite true that resurrection language in both the Hodayot
and the Pauline writings can refer to experience in this life. It is also true that
anything we say about life after death is projected on the basis of experience
in this life—hence the reliance on metaphors of awakening, illumination,
etc. In the now dated language of Karl Rahner,

Man’s knowledge of the future still to come, even his revealed knowledge,
is confined to such prospects as can be derived from a reading of his pres-
ent eschatological experience.56

But there remain two ways in which the correlation of present and future ex-
perience of resurrection can be understood.
First, the kind of resurrection experienced by the hymnist in the Scrolls can
be viewed as a foretaste of the resurrection to come after death. This is how
Brooke reads 1QHa 12.57 Because the hymnist describes his present transforma-
tion in physical terms, the inference is drawn that this is how the dead will be
transformed too. This inference is not impossible, but it lacks clear support in
the texts. As Jonathan Klawans puts it: “the scrolls on the whole—and particu-
larly the identifiably sectarian scrolls—are, to say the least, notably reticent
about bodily resurrection.”58
The second way is to suppose that the resurrection is being reinterpreted
rather than anticipated. Brooke himself argues that the transformed, illumi-
nated, life “might be understood to represent the meaning of resurrection”
for the hymnist.59 This resurrected life was believed to be eschatological and
everlasting, but it had already begun, and did not require a future resurrection.

56  Karl Rahner, “The Hermeneutics of Eschatological Assertions,” in Rahner, Theological

Investigations 4, trans. Kevin Smyth (London: Darton, Longman and Todd, 1966), 323–46,
334. See already my article “Apocalyptic Eschatology as the Transcendence of Death,” in
my book, Seers, Sibyls and Sages in Hellenistic-Roman Judaism, JSJSup 54 (Leiden: Brill,
1997), 75–97, 95, originally published in CBQ 36 (1974): 21–43.
57  It is also how Tappenden reads Paul, although his interest is in showing the present rather
than future dimension of the language. The case for eschatological resurrection is clearer
in Paul than in the sectarian Scrolls.
58  Klawans, Josephus, 114.
59  Brooke, “The Structure of 1QHa XII–XIII 4,” 29.
422 Collins

One might, of course, ask whether the difference between the formulations
of afterlife has any significance. In both cases, the hope for and confidence in
eternal life motivates people in the present. The difference is one of nuance,
but it is not for that reason insignificant. The sectarians of the Scrolls, who
believed they were already communing with the angels, lived a more mystical
life than those who saw that fellowship as reserved for the future. The demands
of purity and holiness were heightened. From a modern perspective, the differ-
ences may seem trivial, but nuances like this were fundamental to the separa-
tion of the various sectarian movements in ancient Judaism.
The Book of HGY and Ancient Reading Practices
Jonathan Ben-Dov

This paper suggests a new solution for the old problem of the identity of “the
Book of Hagi.”1 Departing from the occurrence of this term in 1QSa 1:6–9,
I suggest reading it in the context of ancient pedagogy and reading practices,
reinforcing the argument with pertinent rabbinic texts.

The Rule of the Congregation (1QSa) 1:6–9

A passage in the Rule of the Congregation refers to the mode of teaching a

child until his coming of age as a full member of the community (1QSa 1:6–9):2

(A) And from [his you]th they shall [instru]ct him in the Book of Hagi,
(B) And according to his age they shall enlighten him in the statute[s
of] the covenant,
(C) And [according to his understanding they shall] teach (him) their
precepts.
(D) (For) ten years [he shall] come in with the children.3
And [at] twenty year[s (of age) he shall pass over into] those commis-
sioned to enter into lot in the midst of his fam[il]y, to join the holy
Congre[gation].

1  It is a pleasure to dedicate this article to George Brooke, a fountainhead of inspiration. The
paper was presented during 2015 at the circle Lomdim Hanan in memory of Hanan Eshel,
as well as in a study day at the Orion Center, Hebrew University of Jerusalem. I thank the
participants of those sessions for their input. Cana Werman, Aharon Shemesh, Arjen Bakker,
and Eran Viezel commented on various versions of this paper. The responsibility of course
lies entirely with me.
2  Translation follows Loren Stuckenbruck, “Rule of the Congregation,” PTSDSSP 1, 111. This lit-
eral translation is preferable for the purposes of the present study.
3  This last word may be better translated as “youth”; see the next footnote. The discussion
below takes the reading of the word at hand to be ‫בטפ‬. The last letter has been corrected
from bet to pe; see Elisha Qimron, The Dead Sea Scrolls: The Hebrew Writings (Jerusalem: Yad
Ben Zvi, 2010–2013), 1:235.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ���7 | doi ��.��63/9789004344532_024

424 Ben-Dov

This text depicts the pedagogical procedures that every boy undergoes be-
tween the ages of ten and twenty, after which he reaches maturity.4 During
that period, three precepts are prescribed, numbered A-C above. The subject-
matter of each precept is accordingly:

(A) The Book of Hagi ‫ספר ההגי‬

(B) the statutes of the covenant ‫חוקי הברית‬
(C) their precepts ‫משפטיהם‬

I would like to dwell on the book of Hagi, a notorious crux which has provoked
numerous discussions and interpretations by various scholars. While earlier
discussions included references to this term in the Damascus Document and
1QSa, newer studies also take into account its appearance in the wisdom text
Musar Lamevin (4QInstruction).5 Among these occurrences, it is only in the
Rule of the Congregation that the term is mentioned with regard to the peda-
gogical training of a youth, while all other occurrences involve the practices of
a fully functioning adult, an officiating priest or leader. I suggest that the root
HGY carries special connotation with regard to the pedagogical process.6
In 1QSa the boy is not “reading” (‫ )קרא‬the book of Hagi, since such a read-
ing carries with it ritual and efficacious dimensions which may be compro-
mised if carried out by an untrained lector.7 Instead, the verb employed is ‫למד‬

4  This chronology assumes that the period of the general statement D, “(For) ten years [he
shall] come in with the children,” overlaps the previous instructions A–C, as the entire pas-
sage gives the paideia for ages 10–20. According to this interpretation, his ‫נעורים‬, “youth,” (A)
is equivalent to his “coming with the ‫( ”טף‬D). Admittedly, the age 10–20 is not the expected
meaning of the word ‫טף‬, which usually implies early childhood; see Lawrence H. Schiffman,
The Eschatological Community of the Dead Sea Scrolls. A Study of the Rule of the Congregation,
SBLMS 38 (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1989), 15–16. However, it would be otherwise difficult to
understand why element (D) returns to earlier age after elements (A-C) had already dealt
with youth.
5  Among these studies see particularly Isaac Rabinowitz, “The Qumran Authors’ SPR HHGW/Y,”
JNES 20 (1961): 109–14; Cana Werman, “What is the Book of Hagu?” in Sapiential Perspectives:
Wisdom Literature in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls: Proceedings of the Sixth International
Symposium of the Orion Center, ed. John J. Collins et al., STDJ 51 (Leiden: Brill, 2004), 125–40;
Devorah Steinmetz, “Sefer HeHago: The Community and the Book,” JJS 52 (2001): 40–58;
Steven D. Fraade, “Hagu, Book of,” EDSS 1:327; and Armin Lange, “‫הגה‬,” TWQ 1:742–45.
6  The basic meaning of this root has to do with making sounds in the mouth or by means of
a musical instrument: “mutter, growl, utter a sound, moan, later also: read with undertone,
speak, proclaim” (HALOT, 237). See further discussion below.
7  Cf. the explicit prohibition on ritual reading by a youth and by disabled individuals (4QDa 5
ii 1–16 and parallels). See Joseph. M. Baumgarten, DJD 18:49–51; Qimron, The Dead Sea Scrolls,
1:26.
The Book of HGY and Ancient Reading Practices 425

+ ‫ב‬, similar to the immediately subsequent verb ‫ישכילוהו בחוקי הברית‬.8 The
emphasis is on acquiring a skill, as in Dan 1:4 (cf. 2 Sam 1:18), making the boy
accustomed to the text, to reading it out loud, and possibly memorizing it.9 The
context is strictly pedagogical and does not involve any ritual or intellectual
achievement on the boy’s part.10
Various scholars who have discussed “the Book of Hagi” in the past spent
many efforts in an attempt to identify the content of the book, be it the Torah,
the Bible in general, sectarian institutions, the heavenly divine plan etc. In con-
trast, I suggest that this mysterious term refers to the mode and function of
learning, rather than to the content of any specific book. Support to this claim
is offered by several overlooked rabbinic passages, discussed below.11

The Root HGY in Qumran and Rabbinic Literature

While the Rule of the Congregation recommends that the youth is instructed
in ‫ספר ההגי‬, an early rabbinic statement warns against such a practice, using
the nominal form ‫הגיון‬, derived from the same root ‫הגי‬. This tannaitic state-
ment is preserved in b. Ber. 28b.
The Text follows ms Munich 95. Large scale variants in the composition of
elements A–D are as follows. Components A–D appear in the printed editions
(Vilna, Venice, Soncino), as well as in ms Florence BNC II.1.7. Items B–C are

8  The root LMD is normally accompanied by a direct object without preposition. The for-
mulation with bet is attested in Biblical Hebrew only in Isa 40:14 and in Qumran only
here (the attestation in 1QHa 15:10 is a reconstruction, which has been differently recon-
structed by Qimron).
9  See especially Menahem Z. Kadari, A Dictionary of Biblical Hebrew (Ramat Gan: Bar Ilan
University Press, 2007), 564–65 (Hebrew), with ample earlier bibliography. Kadari uses
the definition ‫להרגיל‬, “ ‘to make one accustomed,” for the root ‫למד‬.
10  I thus contest the view of Wieder: “Of decisive consequence, however, is . . . the fact that
HGH was used to denote, in particular, the public reading of the Law in the Synagogue.”
Naphtali Wieder, The Judean Scrolls and Karaism (London: East and West Library, 1962),
220.
11  An earlier attempt to connect the book of Hagi with rabbinic literature was carried out by
Steinmetz, “Sefer HeHago.” Steinmetz sought to demonstrate that the Qumranic passages
referring to Hagi are based on scriptural proof texts from Proverbs (25:4–5), which were
in turn read in rabbinic literature as prohibitions on revealing esoteric knowledge. The
root HGY in these homilies means neither “recite” nor “meditate,” but rather “filter, cast
away,” referring to esoteric teachings that should not be learnt. I believe, however, that the
rabbinic analogies presented here fit better in the context of learning practices reflected
in the Qumran sources.
426 Ben-Dov

unattested in the Genizah fragment T-S AS 76.28. Item C is not attested in mss
Paris BN Heb 671 and Oxford Bodleian 366.

‫כשחלה ר׳ אליעזר נכנסו תלמידיו לבקרו אמרו לו רבנו למדנו אורחות חיים ונזכה‬
‫בהן לחיי העולם הבא אמ׳ להן‬
‫ הזהרו בכבוד חבריכם‬A
‫ ומנעו בניכם מן ההגיון‬B
‫ והושיבום בין ברכי תלמידי חכמים‬C
‫ וכשאתם מתפללין דעו לפני מי אתם עומד׳‬D

As R. Eliezer became ill (to die), his disciples came in to visit him.
They said to him, “Our teacher, teach us the ways of life with which we
can win life in the world to come.”
He said to them,
A “Be mindful of your friends’ honor;
B and prevent your sons from higayon,
C and make them sit at the knees of sages;12
D and when you pray, know in front of whom you stand.”

The statement ‫ מנעו בניכם מן ההגיון‬appears also in b. Sanh. 96a, where it is

attributed to R. Judah ben Beterah, a tannaitic authority of Second Temple
times.13 In that source too, this statement is part of a series of four statements,
with numbers 3 and 4 of that series concentrating on matters of education and
instruction:14

‫ והזהרו בבני‬,‫ והזהרו בוורידין כר׳ יהודה‬,‫הזהרו בזקן ששכח תלמודו מחמת אונסו‬
.‫ ומנעו בניכם מן ההגיון‬,‫עמי הארץ שמא מהן תצא תורה‬

Be mindful with an old sage who has inadvertently forgotten his learning;
and be mindful (observe) the veins (of a slaughtered animal) according

12  The word “sages” is used here to translate the more concrete Hebrew term ‫תלמיד חכם‬.
This latter term carries a more pronounced emphasis on pedagogy.
13  The statement is only attested in a Yemenite manuscript of tractate Sanhedrin, but its an-
tiquity seems certain. See Mordechai Sabato, A Yemenite Manuscript of Tractate Sanhedrin
and Its Place in the Text Tradition (Jerusalem: Yad Ben Zvi and the Hebrew University
Institute of Jewish Studies, 1998), 140–41 (Hebrew).
14  For the numerical structure of rabbinic statements see Isaac B. Gottlieb, “Pirqe Avot and
Biblical Wisdom,” VT 40 (1990): 152–64, 159 n. 27. As Gottlieb notes (following previous
authors), the maxims in Tractate Avot—some of which parallel the statements discussed
here—often take numerical form, usually three or four statements in a typical series.
The Book of HGY and Ancient Reading Practices 427

to R. Judah; and be mindful with the sons of ignorant people, because

torah may come forth from them; and prevent your sons from higayon.

While more can be said about the setting in b. Sanhedrin, I would like to dwell
on the reading in b. Berakhot, not least because R. Eliezer (ben Hyrcanos) is a
conspicuous figure in tannaitic literature, one who is often associated with rel-
ics of older sectarian traditions.15
R. Eliezer’s testament comprises a series of four statements. However, there
seem to be groupings within this structure. Cola B and C—the only items deal-
ing with education—in fact convey one composite message, as can be observed
from the contrastive waw connecting the two maxims: “prevent your sons from
higayon, and (instead) make them sit at the knees of sages.” Even without clear
knowledge as to the meaning of the enigmatic term higayon, one can tell that
it is somehow contrasted with the recommendation to have the children learn
at the sages’ knees. This latter statement means that the children should fre-
quent the study hall of the sages in order to absorb the atmosphere and over-
hear the discussion.16 In contrast, as we now see, parents should avoid teaching
their sons in higayon. The two statements are thus an evaluation of alternative
modes of study.
The meaning of higayon remains debated. Numerous interpretations have
been suggested for this word in traditional Jewish literature.17 For example,
in the medieval philosophical vocabulary higayon acquired the meaning
“logic,” and thus the statement was read as a warning against indulging in phi-
losophy; among earlier commentators (e.g. R. Zemah Gaon, as well as Rashi
and R. Menahem Hamʾeiri ad loc) it was seen as a prohibition—or at least
limitation—on reading the Bible, apparently against reading it without the
proper rabbinic apparatus, which may lead to heresy. However, the original

15  See Yitzhak D. Gilat, R. Eliezer Ben Hyrcanus: A Scholar Outcast (Ramat Gan: Bar Ilan
University Press, 1984); Vered Noam, “Beit Shammai and Sectarian Halakhah,” Jewish
Studies 41 (2001–2): 109–50 (Hebrew).
16  Cf. the similar statement in cf. m. Avot 1:4, a saying attributed to a sage from Hasmonean
times. The study hall is termed there ‫בית ועד לחכמים‬.
17  For an exhaustive treatment of all post-talmudic interpretations of this maxim see
Mordechai Breuer, “Keep your Children from Higgayon,” in Michtam Le-David: Rabbi
David Ochs Memorial Volume (1905–1975), ed. Yitzhak D. Gilat and Eliezer Stern (Ramat
Gan: Bar Ilan University Press, 1978), 242–61 (Hebrew); Frank Talmage, “Keep your Sons
Away from Scripture: The Bible in Medieval Jewish Scholarship and Spirituality,” in Apples
of Gold in Settings of Silver: Studies in Medieval Jewish Exegesis and Polemics, ed. Barry D.
Walfish (Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies, 1999), 151–71; cf. Wieder, The
Judean Scrolls, 236–39.
428 Ben-Dov

meaning of this statement, uttered already in early tannaitic times, remains

obscure. As is the rule in such cases, the etymology of ‫ הגי‬may or may not be
relevant for elucidating the meaning of this particular terminus technicus in
rabbinic Hebrew. I suggest elucidating the meaning of this root from expos-
ing its opposition with the other, recommended habit. That opposition could
stress the difference between knowledge of books and knowledge gained per-
sonally from a teacher, or maybe the difference between individual study and
communal, institutionalized study. All possible interpretations seem to stress
the importance of the proper mediation of the curriculum through acknowl-
edged sages, the appropriate setting for study. In contrast to this optimal set-
ting, higayon represents a less reliable mode of study, possibly superficial or
crude. If we do take the etymology seriously, the superficiality of that mode of
learning would be due to its emphasis on recitation or exclamation.
This meaning for HGY, gained mainly by juxtaposition to “sitting by the
knees of sages,” is supported by the original, biblical sense of the root ‫הגי‬: “mur-
mur, recite” (e.g., Isa 8:19; 38:14; HALOT, 237). This root is connected primarily
with the pronouncement of words in the mouth, rather than with deep reason-
ing. Although in Second Temple times the root HGY shifted in some texts to
mean “meditate, think,”18 the old meaning persisted, as seen for example in the
threefold repetition of this term in the Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice (4Q403 1 i
36–37), emphasizing the tongue and the mouth rather than meditation:19

Praise, O those who praise [eternally] the praise of the wondrous God,
and pronounce (‫ )הגו‬his glory in the tongue of those who pronounce
knowledge (‫)הוגי דעת‬. (Pronounce) his wondrous praise in the mouth of
all those who pronounce[ (‫)הוגי‬20

While the tannaim oppose the mode of HGY, the Rule of the Congregation
seems to view this mode of learning as commendable for young children. I
therefore suggest that the study method ‫ הגי‬connotes a debate in ancient
Jewish circles with regard to the correct pedagogical method. While 1QSa com-
mands that boys acquire their preliminary learning skills from training in ‫הגי‬,

18  For a description of this shift, particularly of the relation between ‫ דרש‬and ‫הגי‬, see re-
cently Avi Hurvitz, A Concise Lexicon of Late Biblical Hebrew: Linguistic Innovations in the
Writings of the Second Temple Period, VTSup 160 (Leiden: Brill, 2014), 98–99.
19  Quotation following Qimron, Dead Sea Scrolls, 2:369. My translation.
20  At the end of this sentence Qimron reconstructs ‫הוגי[ בו‬, “those who meditate in him.”
This usage of the root HGY, however, does not correspond with its usage earlier in the
same statement, where the emphasis is on pronouncement rather than on meditation.
The Book of HGY and Ancient Reading Practices 429

an early tannaitic statement warns precisely against such a practice, recom-

mending instead that the boys sit at the knees of sages. This interpretation is
supported below by further rabbinic evidence. It should also be mentioned
that comparable debates are reported within the Roman education system,
as the terms of responsibility of the grammaticus (preliminary educator) and
rhetor (advanced teacher) were negotiated.21
In order to fix the meaning of ‫ הגי‬more concretely, attention should be drawn
to a different scriptural proof text from those usually quoted. While scholarly
attention naturally focuses on Josh 1:8 and Ps 1:2, verses which command HGY
with reference to the Torah, some ancient Jewish authors constructed the
meaning of HGY from Eccl 12:12 (NJPS):

‫ויותר מהמה בני הזהר‬

‫ אין קץ‬/ ‫עשות ספרים הרבה‬
‫ יגיעת בשר‬/ ‫ולהג הרבה‬

A further word: against them, my son, be warned!

The making of many books is without limit,
And much study (LHG) is a wearing of the flesh.

The division into poetic lines is made evident by the recurrent word ‫הרבה‬
in the first cola of lines 2–3 above. The exact meaning of this verse is once
again hard to ascertain, but the general line is a warning against writing many
books and against accumulating much verbiage. Line 3 is less clear than the
preceding line. The key term in this line is the hapax ‫להג‬, “vain speech,” a verb
close but not identical to ‫הגי‬.22 The line seems to equate the ‫ להג‬with ‫יגיעה‬,
“toil,” or present the latter as the outcome of the former.
There is evidence in both Second Temple and rabbinic sources that ‫להג‬
was (wrongly) derived from HGY, with the lamed connoting the beginning
of an infinitive rather than part of the stem.23 Line 3 was consequently read
as correlating the verbs HGY and YGʿ. Thus in a famous tannaitic statement

21  Quintilian, Training in Oratory 2.1.1–3; Suetonius, On Teachers of Grammar and Rhetoric
4.4–6, both quoted in Mark Joyal, Iain McDougall, and J.C. Yardley, Greek and Roman
Education: A Sourcebook (London: Routledge, 2009), 209–10.
22  For the meaning “vain speech” see Kadari, Dictionary, 555.
23  This verb is associated with HGY already in the LXX, where both Hebrew roots are trans-
lated with the verb μελετάω (see Saul Lieberman, Hellenism in Jewish Palestine [New York:
JTS, 1950], 109 n. 62).
430 Ben-Dov

preserved in m. Sanh. 10:11 and expanded in y. Sanh. 28:1 (following Genizah ms

T.S. F17.27) we read,24

.‫ ר׳ עקיבא אומר אף הקורא בספרים החיצונים‬. . . ‫ואלו שאין להם חלק לעולם הבא‬

]‫ אבל ספרי הומירס וכל ספרין ש[נכתבו‬,‫ [כגון] ספרי בן סירא וספרי בן לעגא‬. . . .
—‫ ומה טע׳ ״ויותר מהמה בני היזהר״ וכו׳‬.‫מיכן והלך הקורא בהן כקורא באיגרת‬
.‫ ליגיעה לא נתנו‬,‫להגיון ניתנו‬

The following people have no share in the world to come . . . R. Akiva says:
“Also he who reads the extra-canonical books.”

. . . such as the books of Ben Sira and the Books of Ben Laʿaga [has no
share in the world to come], but he who reads the books of Homer and
all other books that were written beyond that is considered like one who
is reading a secular document, for [it is written] “And further, my son, be-
ware of making many books, and much study [of them] is a weariness of
flesh” (Eccl 12:12). Hence casual reading (‫ )הגיון‬is permissible but intensive
study (‫ )יגיעה‬is forbidden.

The Tanna contrasts the Torah with the writings of Homer and other non-
scriptural books. While the former was intended for human beings to toil as
they learn it, the latter is intended for mere recitation, probably since no deep
meaning can be extracted from it. In that respect, the external books resemble
the writings of Homer, mentioned earlier on, which are evidently not as pro-
found as words of the Torah and are thus only meant for superficial reading
but not for deep learning.25 The Tanna explicitly links his teaching to a homily

24  Trans. Lieberman, Hellenism in Jewish Palestine, 109.

25  This is the prevalent interpretation of the baraita, supported inter alia by Lieberman,
Hellenism in Jewish Palestine, 108–11; Sid Z. Leiman, The Canonization of Hebrew Scripture:
The Talmudic and Midrashic Evidence (Hamden CT: Connecticut Academy of Arts and
Sciences, 1976), 86–92; Menahem Haran, The Biblical Collection: Its Consolidation to
the End of the Second Temple Times and Changes of Form to the End of the Middle Ages
(Jerusalem: Bialik and Magnes, 1996), 1:129–33 (Hebrew). This interpretation is not de-
void of difficulties, as noted by Shlomo Naeh, the main one being the difficulty to rec-
oncile what seems like an equivalence of HGY and YGʿ in the scriptural verse, with
their presentation as opposites in the tannaitic homily: Shlomo Naeh, “QRYNʾ DʾGRTʾ.
Notes on Talmudic Diplomatics,” in Shaʿarei Lashon: Studies in Hebrew, Aramaic and
Jewish Langages Presented to Moshe Bar Asher, ed. Aaron Maman, Steven E. Fassberg, and
Yohanan Breuer (Jerusalem: Bialik, 2007), 228–55, esp. 243–49 (Hebrew). Lieberman’s
The Book of HGY and Ancient Reading Practices 431

on Eccl 12:12, seeing the “external books” as those superfluous documents that
should not have been written, but once they are written, one is allowed to read
them but not to dwell on them. They are susceptible for leisurely reading or
recitation (‫)הגיון‬, but not for comprehensive study (‫)יגיעה‬.
On this interpretation, the root ‫ הגי‬thus indicates superficial learning or
recitation, a method which does not stand on a par with the real “toil” of Torah
learning. A statement such as that of R. Akiva corresponds to the condemna-
tion of ‫ הגיון‬in the rabbinic statements quoted above. As a replacement for
higayon, R. Akiva recommends “toil,” while R. Eliezer (above) recommends sit-
ting at the knees of sages.
Curiously, the exegetical circle comes to a close in the wisdom text
4QInstruction, in a passage promoting the duty to study endlessly without ever
tiring. This passage resembles the themes of Eccl 12:12, and may be dependent
on it (4Q418 69 ii 10–14):26

]‫שח[רי בינה ו‬
̊ ‫ו]מ‬
̇ ‫ואתם בחירי אמת ורודפי[ צדקה‬
̇ vacat
10
]‫̇שו̇ ̇ק ̇ד[ים‬
‫הג]ה בכול‬
̇ ‫ת ̇ב[אלה‬
‫תאמרו יגענו בבינה ושקדנו לרדוף דע ‏‬
̊ ‫דעה איכה‬
̇ ‫על כול‬ ‬11
]‫̇מ[ועד‬
‫[תמיד]תשרתנו‬
̇ ‫בכו ‏ל {נ}שני עולם הלוא באמת ישעשע לעד ודעה‬ ̇ ‫ ‬ולא עיף‬ 12
] ‫̊וב[ני‬
] ‫‬ שמים אשר חיים עולם נחלתם האמור יאמרו יגענו בפעלות אמת ויעפ[נו‬13
] [‫כ] ̇בוֿ ד ורוב הדר אתם‬
‫יתה ̇ל[כו‬
̇ ‫קצים הלוא באור עולם‬
̇ ‫ ‬בכול‬ 14

10. You, who choose truth and seek[ justice], employ[ers of understand-
ing and] labor[ers]

interpretation is based on the reading in the printed editions of the Yerushalmi and in
a Genizah fragment. However, the important ms Leiden does not contain the word ‫לא‬
in the crucial final sentence, creating instead the flow ‫ ליגיעה ניתנו‬,‫להיגיון ניתנו‬. Naeh
(following Louis Ginzberg, Yerushalmi Fragments from the Genizah [New-York: JTS, 1909],
262) argued in favour of that reading, demonstrating in a complicated way that this
midrash does not distinguish HGY from YGʿ, but rather places them both together over
against another verb (which, however, is not written anywhere): ‫ ליגיעה ניתנו‬,‫להיגיון ניתנו‬
]‫[לכתיבה—לא ניתנו‬, “they were given for Higayon, given for toil, [but were not given for
writing!].” Naeh’s interpretation of the Yerushalmi, although eloquently presented, ends
up with as many difficulties as the previous mainstream view. Ultimately Lieberman’s
reading is to be preferred.
26  Composite text following Qimron, Dead Sea Scrolls, 2:151. The English translation is
my own.
432 Ben-Dov

11. of all knowledge. How can you say “We have grown weary with un-
derstanding, and labored seeking knowledge”? In [those he (i.e., God)
HG]H at all t[imes]
12. and (God) did not tire through years of eternity. Is it not through truth
that he is always at leisure, and knowledge [shall always] serve him? The
son[s]
13. of heaven, whose inheritance is eternal life: would they say ‘we have
grown weary in the acts of truth and tir[ed . . .?
14. . . . through all time periods? Will they not wal[k] in eternal light? [. . .]
is not [gl]ory and much splendor their lot?

This passage elaborates on the contrast between human beings and angels.
The former, devoted as they are to the pursuit of wisdom, find themselves at
some stage tired, even exhausted. In rebuke of this weakness, the speaker men-
tions the counter example of the angels, ‫ב[ני ] שמים‬, “so[ns] of heaven,” who
never claim to have been exhausted despite their constant toil (‫ )יגענו‬in seek-
ing truth. Men are therefore encouraged to keep learning without ever tiring,
as do the angels.
The reason for connecting this passage with Eccl 12:12 is based on the central
role of the verb ‫ יגע‬in it, as well as on the occurrence of the word ‫קץ‬. In paral-
lelism to ‫ יגע‬in line 11 stands the root ‫שקד‬, a root connoting ceaseless study
(Prov 8:34) which appears in a similar context in Qumran writings (1QS 6:7=
4QSd 2 10; 4Q418 55 9; 4Q418 69 ii 10).27 The passage in 4QInstruction may thus
be read as an interpretation of the enigmatic verse from Qohelet. It builds on
the phrase ‫יגיעת בשר‬, “the toil of flesh”: exhaustion characterizes only human
beings, who grow weary as they read, write, and learn, while angels are not
susceptible to such constraints.
To summarize what has been achieved until now, it was suggested that the
root HGY indicates a special sort of study, one that is not profound and atten-
tive but rather recitative and repetitive.28 This meaning of HGY is well rooted
in Biblical Hebrew. Several Tannaim contrasted this mode of study with other,
more commendable modes in their opinion: either ‫יגיעה‬, “toil,” or having the
children sit at the knees of sages. In contrast, the Rule of the Congregation

27  See 1QS 6:6–7, a paraphrase on Josh 1:8, replacing the root HGY with DRŠ. For constant
study in the Dead Sea Scrolls see Arjen Bakker, “The Figure of the Sage in Musar le-Mevin
and Serek ha-Yahad” (PhD diss., Katholieke Universiteit Leuven, 2015), 184.
28  This interpretation was indeed suggested later by the medieval sage Profiat Duran (also
known as Ephodi) at the turn of the fifteenth century; see Talmage, “Keep Your Sons from
Scripture,” 160.
The Book of HGY and Ancient Reading Practices 433

prescribes this kind of study for young boys, at the stage before they become
full members of the community. We may thus suggest that ‫ ספר ההגי‬does not
indicate the content or a particular book, but rather a mode of study, or if you
wish, a textbook. Any book used in this particular way may be referred to as
“the Book of Hagi.”
Awareness to different modes of reading appears in tannaitic literature,
where private reading of biblical books at home is distinguished from the
properly mediated reading in Beit Hamidrash (m. Šabb. 16:1; t. Šabb. 13:1; cf.
y. Šabb. 1:2, 3b).29 Vered Noam and Elisha Qimron have recently detected this
motif in several fragmentary Sabbath laws, preserved in the scrolls 4Q264a,
4Q241, and 4Q251.30 While the presence of this distinction in rabbinic litera-
ture is uncontested, its application to the fragmentary laws from Qumran re-
mains debated.31 Paying homage to the honoree of the present volume, I may
add (in the margin of the discussion) that awareness of various modes of study
appears also in Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians.32 Paul employs didactic
discourse in 1 Cor 3:1–3, distinguishing the understanding of little children
from that of adults. He returns to this theme in 14:20–22, where he distinguish-
es the senseless syllables sounded by those speaking in tongues from the intel-
ligible and commendable talk in the community. Curiously, in 14:21 Paul quotes
Isa 28:9–11, a prophecy mocking the pseudo-prophets for their unintelligibility,
speaking as it were gibberish like babies.33

Other Attestations of HGY in Qumran Literature

While the pedagogic use of HGY is mentioned in the Rule of the Congregation,
the Yaḥad stresses deeper learning habits elsewhere. In its other occurrences
in Yaḥad literature, all from CD, the Book of Hagi is not a matter for untrained
youth but rather for expert readers. These passages may cast doubt on the

29  For this distinction see Haran, The Biblical Collection, 1:124–29, as well as ample earlier
references in the articles by Noam-Qimron and Hidary quoted below.
30  Vered Noam and Elisha Qimron, “A Qumran Composition of Sabbath Laws and its
Contribution to the Study of Early Halakah,” DSD 16 (2009): 55–96, esp. 80–88.
31  See Richard Hidary, “Revisiting the Sabbath Laws in 4Q246a and Their Contribution to
Early Halakha,” DSD 22 (2015): 68–92, esp. 80–88.
32  I am indebted to Brooke’s illuminating studies collected in George J. Brooke, The Dead Sea
Scrolls and the New Testament (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2005).
33  For this verse see Jonathan Ben-Dov, “Language, Prayer and Prophecy: 1 Enoch, the Dead
Sea Scrolls and 1 Corinthians,” in Ancient Jewish Prayers and Emotions, ed. Stefan C. Reif
and Renate Egger-Wenzel, DCLS 26 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2015), 239–58.
434 Ben-Dov

definition of HGY as part of the pedagogic process, which depends mainly on

the Rule of the Congregation.
CD 10:4–7 and parallels (composite text, ed. Qimron, 1:44):34

‫רבעה‬
̊ ‫הע ̊ת ̊א‬
̊ ‫הע]ד ̊ה ̊לפי‬
̊ ‫זה ̊ס ̊ר ̊ך ̊ל ̊שו̊ ̊פ ̊טי העדה [עד] ̊ע ̊ש ̊ר ̊ה אנשים ̊ברורי[ם מן‬̊ ̊‫ו‬
‫הברית [מבני‬
̊ ‫וביסו]רי‬
̊ ̊
‫ההג[י‬ ‫[א]ל [ששה] ̇מ ̇בו̇ ננים בספר‬̊ ‫ואהרון ומי̊ ̊ש ̊ר‬
̊ ‫̊ל ̊מטה לוי‬
‫וע[ד בן ששים] ̊שנה‬ ̊ ‫ח]מ ̊ש‬ו̊ עשרים שנ̊ ה‬ ̊

This is the rule for judges of the community. Ten people, select[ed from
within the com]munity according to the Time: four from the tribe of Levi
and Aaron, and [ six] from Isra[e]l. They are explicating/ versed in the
Book of Hag[i and in the teachi]ngs of the covenant, [aged twe]nty-five
[to sixty] years.

CD 13:2–4 and parallels (composite text, ed. Qimron, 1:48):

‫ ואם‬vacat ‫עשרה אל ימש איש כהן מבונן בספר ההגי̊ על‬פיהו ישקו כולם‬
̊ ‫ובמקום‬
‫אין הוא בחון בכל אלה ואיש מהלוים בחון ‬באלה ויצא הגו̇ רל לצאת ולבוא על פיהו‬
‫כל באי המחנה‬

In the place where ten people are to be found, let there not be bereft of a
priest, explicating/ versed in the Book of Hagi, according to whose com-
mand they shall all behave. vacat If he (=the priest) is not trained in all
of the above, and one of the Levites is trained in them, then the lot shall
be settled: all members of the camp shall come and go at his command.

CD 14:6–8 and parallels (composite text, ed. Qimron, 1:51):

‫ועד ̊בן ששים‬

̊ ‫שלושים שנה‬
̊ ‫ברוא ̊ש אש‏⟨בראש⟩ ̊ה[רב]ים ̊מ ̊בן‬̊ ‫ו̊ ̊ה ̊כוהן אשר [יפ]קד‬
‫[כ]משפטם‬
̇ ‫התור ̊ה לדברם‬
̊ ‫וב ̊כל משפטי‬
̊ ̊‫‬ה ̊ה ̊גי‬
̊ ] ‫[שנ]ה ̊מבונן [בספר‬
̊

The priest who will command the M[an]y (should be) aged thirty to sixty
[year]s, explicating/versed [in the Book] of Hagi and in all the laws of the
Torah, to speak them [a]ppropriately.

In CD 13 and 14, the book of Hagi is taught by a priest, while in the more elabo-
rate passage in CD 10 this task is assigned to a team of ten people comprising

34  Square brackets in this transcription refer to reconstructions in 4Q270 (De), Qimron’s
base text in this section.
The Book of HGY and Ancient Reading Practices 435

both priests and laymen. Much can be made of the association of ‫ספר ההגי‬
with other sources mentioned alongside it in CD.35 The main issue to be em-
phasized here, however, is that these functionaries are not merely “reading,”
but rather indulging in the book of Hagi in a deeper manner, designated by
the participle (polel form) of the root ‫בין‬.36 As the syntax of all three sentences
shows, the participle ‫ מבונן‬does not indicate the action that the priest should
carry out, but is rather part of his qualifications. In other words, it is a nomi-
nal participle, not a verbal one. If there is a priest or another person trained
enough in that task, he would then be nominated as part of the leading team.
Whether active or passive, it is clear that these passages require more than
mere recitation of the book, calling instead for a deeper ability in understand-
ing or elucidating it. Why then do they use a term (‫ )הגו‬which relates to basic
training?
Two aspects of the presence of the book in the community are exemplified
here. The first aspect is the continuous, or better, uninterrupted aspect of its
presence, as conveyed by the verb ‫( לא ימש‬CD 13:2; cf. Josh 1:8; Isa 59:21). This
aspect is hardly productive for deep learning and new insights. If the duty is
to read the book out loud ceaselessly,37 deeper penetration is hard to expect.
On the other hand, CD also expects the priest/functionary to master that very
same book in a high-quality way which exceeds the effect of the ceaseless mur-
muring. The phrase ‫ מבונן בספר ההגי‬combines both aspects, an oxymoron as
it were: while the book is an object of constant recitation (HGY), the priest

35  See mainly Rabinowitz, “The Qumran Authors.”

36  It is unclear whether the participle should be taken as a passive or active one; the m+polel
form can be construed both ways. The meaning might be that the priest is versed (pas-
sive) in the Book of Hagi, or he is able to teach others in it (active). For the former see
the immediately subsequent passive participle (qal) ‫ בחון‬in CD 13:2. For the latter see the
use of ‫( בין‬hiphil) in Neh 8:8 ‫ויבינו במקרא‬, as the Levites explain (causative) the Torah to
the people. While all translations of CD known to me read ‫ מבונן‬as a passive participle,
I prefer reading it as an active participle due to the paucity of passive polel participles in
Biblical and Qumran Hebrew.
37  One may suggest connecting sent discussion with the never-ending debate on silent
reading in Antiquity. While it is often claimed that silent reading did not exist before
Ambrose, such a statement is now known to be exaggerated. Of the abundant literature
on this question see, on the one hand, Michael Slusser, “Reading Silently in Antiquity,”
JBL 111 (1992): 499, and compare Bernard M.W. Knox, “Silent Reading in Antiquity,” GRBS
9 (1968): 421–35; Frank D. Gilliard, “More Silent Reading in Antiquity: non omne verbum
sonabat,” JBL 112 (1993): 689–96; Guglielmo Cavallo, “Du volumen au codex: La lecture
dans le monde romain,” in Histoire de la lecture dans le monde occidental, ed. Guglielmo
Cavallo and Roger Chartier (Paris: Seuil, 2001), 85–114.
436 Ben-Dov

should be able to elucidate deeper dimensions in that very same book. This
elaborate meaning of the phrase ‫ מבונן בספר ההגי‬is compatible with the mean-
ing suggested above for the root ‫הגי‬.
Further discussion may be expected here of a famous passage at the begin-
ning of 4QInstruction (4Q417 1 i 13–18 and parallels).38 This passage mentions a
“Vision of Hagi” and elaborates on its suitability for study by angels and/or by
mankind.39 Werman has reasonably explained the Book of Hagi in this passage
as a pronouncement of divine decrees about past and future human deeds. In
the light of the multiple scholarly discussions of this passage it can shortly be
said that the passage encourages “spiritual” human beings to study (‫ )הגה‬the
vision of Hagi as do the angels, while “carnal” human beings (‫ )רוח בשר‬are not
able to do so (4Q417 1 i 16–18). In addition, the same passage in 4QInstruction
commands (4Q417 1 i 6; 4Q418 43–45i 4) the mevin to ‫ הגה‬in the Mystery that
Becomes (‫)רז נהיה‬, using similar phrases to the biblical language attested above
about Torah reading. How do these passages in 4QInstruction correspond to
the meaning of Hagi suggested above?
According to 4QInstruction, carnal beings are prevented from studying the
‫ חזון ההגי‬because they cannot tell between good and evil (4Q417 1 i 17–18). This
is a classical expression for denoting pre-adolescence (Gen 3:22; Deut 1:39),
which appears also in the Rule of the Community (1QSa 1:9–10). Carnal beings
are exempted from study because like children they lack the ability to discern
properly. 4QInstruction is thus part of the same array of texts discussed thus far,
which connect modes of study with stages of adolescence. It appears, however,
that in this composition Hagi belongs to the advanced stage of discernment
rather than to juvenile, as suggested above for 1QSa 1:7. The difference may be
due to the fact that the pertinent passage in 4QInstruction is an elaboration on
Mal 3:16, a verse which is not acknowledged in the passages discussed thus far
from CD and 1QSa, and thus dictates a different literary usage. I therefore limit

38  For this passage see mainly Werman, “What is the Book of Hagu”; Eibert Tigchelaar,
“ ‘Spiritual People,’ ‘Fleshy Spirit,’ and ‘Vision of Meditation’: Reflections on 4QInstruction
and 1 Corinthians,” in Echoes from the Caves: Qumran and the New Testament, ed. Florentino
García Martínez, STDJ 85 (Leiden: Brill, 2009), 103–18; Matthew Goff, 4QInstruction
(Atlanta: SBL Press, 2013), 137–72; Bakker, “The Figure of the Sage,” 210–19.
39  The Vision of Hagi is part of a connected couplet ‫[ו]ספר זכרון‬ ̇ ‫ההגי‬
̇ ‫( חזון‬4Q417 1 i 16
quoted after Qimron; other editions [e.g., Tigchelaar, “Spiritual People,” 105 and n. 4] read
different modes for expressing the connection between the two elements of this couplet).
It seems to me that in this poetic context the noun ‫ חזון‬is a poetic expression for “a book,”
in parallelism with the connected term ‫ספר‬. The term ‫ חזון‬carries that meaning in the
incipit of the biblical book of Nah 1:1 ‫ספר חזון נחום האלקשי‬. A reader in Second Temple
times could have read this meaning also in Isa 1:1 and Obad 1:1.
The Book of HGY and Ancient Reading Practices 437

my discussion to the passages which are more halakhic in nature, and leave out
the “aggadic” passage from 4QInstruction.

Conclusion

In the present article I suggested a way of understanding the notorious Book of

Hagi as indicating a method of reading and study rather than a specific book.
The passages referring to it address, even polemicize with, the preferable mode
of reading and study. The primary Qumran passage attesting to this meaning
is 1QSa 1:7, which is best understood with recourse to the use of the root HGY
in various tannaitic statements. Of particular importance is a statement in
Yerushalmi Sanhedrin which contrasts the study by means of ‫ הגיון‬with the
deeper understanding gained by ‫יגיעה‬, the rabbinic toil of Torah. The rabbinic
statements quoted in this article seem to be interested in assuring that Torah
is studied with appropriate mediation, preventing all sorts of situations where
independent reading may take place.
Although my suggested interpretation is admittedly weaker with regard to
the usage of Hagi in CD and 4QInstruction, it remains worthwhile, in my opin-
ion, to point out the contrast between 1QSa and the rabbinic higayon. We may
therefore strive to connect study practices in the Yaḥad with the larger picture
in the rabbinic and Roman realms.
Ritualization and the Power of Listing in
4QBerakhota (4Q286)

Jutta Jokiranta

Introduction

Words are powerful in many ways.1 In discovering the different ways in

which texts acquire authority, George Brooke in his article “Authority and the
Authoritativeness of Scripture: Some Clues from the Dead Sea Scrolls” distin-
guishes three complementary aspects to be investigated.2 First, there is “actan-
tial authority,” meaning that texts as literary constructs have inherent elements
and relationships within them that lead them to be construed as authoritative.
Secondly, “authorial and audience authority” refers to the authority created
in the mutual relationship between the (both actual and implied) author and
the (actual and implied) audience: authority is imposed on the audience, who
may endorse the text. Thirdly, “acted authority” is about the existence and ma-
teriality of texts in certain times and places, their (successful or not) speech
acts, and their relevance in terms of a wider ideological framework. These
three aspects help us to understand how an investigation of authority can be
directed to various facets within texts, their users and their environment, and
how authority seldom lies in one aspect only (such as an authoritative author,
a powerful message or a receptive audience), but in the interplay between
various factors. Inspired by this starting point (but not employing the three as-
pects as such), I wish to explore one inner-textual feature here—that is, lists in
4QBerakhota (4Q286)—and theorize about what these sorts of lists may have
achieved when performed in a ritual setting. Following Brooke’s categories, I
am interested in “actantial authority” to the extent that lists can be seen to be

1  It is my great pleasure to dedicate this piece to Professor Brooke, who is an immense inspi-
ration to me and my colleagues in Helsinki. The scope of his scholarship is enormous. Our
experience is that his scholarly mindset always invites readers to explore new, creative, and
deep paths. His openness to new methodological approaches and his desire to tie biblical
studies to the wider humanities set the model for others to follow. The article was written
during my Academy of Finland Fellowship and as part of the Helsinki Centre of Excellence
Changes in Sacred Texts and Traditions (CSTT). I wish to thank the commentators on this
paper, especially Team 4 members of CSTT and Mika Pajunen from Team 3.
2  George J. Brooke, “Authority and the Authoritativeness of Scripture: Some Clues from the
Dead Sea Scrolls,” RevQ 25 (2012): 507–23.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ���7 | doi ��.��63/9789004344532_025

Ritualization and the Power of Listing in 4QBerakhot a 439

captivating in and of themselves and important in terms of the overall power

of the text. My main emphasis, however, is on the “acted authority” and the
potential of lists to trigger certain cognitive mechanisms related to ritualized
actions, drawing from theories of ritualization that have not previously been
connected with the authority of texts.
4QBerakhot is the name of a group of five fragmentary manuscripts
(4Q286–290), some of which refer to blessings of some sort, as well as curses.3
The meaning of this name explicitly leads one to expect that it contains bless-
ings. Bilhah Nitzan, editor of Discoveries of the Judean Desert, characterizes
the praises/blessings of the best-preserved manuscript, 4Q286, in the follow-
ing way:4

•
4Q286 1: “Praise of God in His heavenly sanctuary including praise of His
calendrical mysteries.”
•
4Q286 2: “The blessings of the angels in the heavenly sanctuary(ies).”
•
4Q286 3: “The blessings of the angels who rule over the realms of nature.”
•
4Q286 5–6: “The blessings of all the earthy realms.”
•
4Q286 7: “Blessings of God’s kingdom recited by the chosen people and
angels in unison” (followed by curses on Belial and his lot in frg. 7).

However, we shall see below that the nature and presence of the blessings
is not at all unambiguous. In this article, I restrict myself to some of the

3  Bilhah Nitzan, “286–290. 4QBerakhota-e,” in Qumran Cave 4.VI: Poetical and Liturgical
Texts, Part 1, ed. Esther Eshel et al., DJD 11 (Oxford: Clarendon, 1998), 1–74. See also Nitzan,
“4QBerakhota-e (4Q286–290): A Covenantal Ceremony in the Light of Related Texts,” RevQ
16 (1995): 487–506; Nitzan, “The Textual, Literary and Religious Character of 4QBerakhot
(4Q286–290),” in The Provo International Conference on the Dead Sea Scrolls: Technological
Innovations, New Texts, and Reformulated Issues, ed. Donald W. Parry and Eugene Ulrich, STDJ
30 (Leiden: Brill, 1999), 636–56.
4  Nitzan, “286–290. 4QBerakhota-e,” 3, directly quoted from Nitzan’s table. According to Nitzan
(p. 3), “[T]he blessings are of a peculiar nature. They are addressed to God and are not bene-
dictions addressing those who enter the covenant, as in 1QS II 2–4 . . . [T]hey begin with
blessings of the celestial creation (stars and angels) and descend gradually to blessings of the
earthy creation, possibly following the liturgical pattern of Ps 103:19–21.” According to Mika
S. Pajunen, “Creation as the Liturgical Nexus of the Blessings and Curses in 4QBerakhot,”
in Ancient Readers and their Scriptures: Reading the Hebrew Bible and its Versions in Jewish
and Christian Antiquity, ed. Garrick Allen and John Dunne (Leiden: Brill, forthcoming),
4QBerakhot contains “blessings of God the Creator by the entire creation, possibly in the
overall sequence familiar from Genesis 1 and later accounts following it.” Cf. Jubilees 2; Prayer
of Azariah 1; 4Q381. According to Pajunen, the first day of creation is discernible in 4Q286 1–3
and the third day in 4Q286 5–6.
440 Jokiranta

best-preserved parts of this manuscript, 4Q286 fragments 1 and 5. Even though

limited, this scope is justified by the intriguing lists these fragments contain,
which have no exact parallel elsewhere.5
Having done some preliminary work on the material reconstruction of
4Q286, I recognize that there are open questions even regarding the order
of the fragments in this manuscript, let alone the sequence and nature of the
ritual elements testified by the whole manuscript group of 4QBerakhot. It is
thus best to look at these lists irrespective of whether or not they stood in the
location where they are now placed in the manuscript.
The name 4QBerakhot can also be misleading, since it does not contain
any mention of curses—even though they are explicitly introduced and ex-
tant in manuscript 4Q286. Because of its references to blessings and curses,
many scholars have thought that this composition has something to do with
covenant-making and, more specifically, with the covenant renewal ritual.6
Nitzan states, “The text of 4QBerakhot consists of a series of liturgical bless-
ings and curses and a series of laws for an annual covenant ceremony of the
community.”7 Some other scholars are more cautious in positing what kind
of ceremony this text describes and its relation to the “covenant renewal”
found in the Community Rule 1QS.8 Mika Pajunen has recently noted that nei-
ther covenant, law, nor Israel are mentioned in the text, and he argues that
4QBerakhot should instead be seen in light of its strong emphasis on creation:

5  Other fragments in 4Q286 also contain mostly lists. Most explicitly, fragments 2 and 3 list
heavenly beings and spirits (“spirits,” “divine beings,” and “angels” of various weather phe-
nomena). Whereas these fragments are potentially important for determining where in
the manuscript the transfer from the heavenly realm (frg. 1) to the earthly realm (frg. 5) oc-
curred—frgs. 2 and 3 most probably continue the form of listing heavenly items—I will here
focus on the better-preserved fragments 1 and 5. The curses in fragment 7 ii also mainly list
objects (Belial and his followers and their characteristics) to be cursed.
6  For arguments that some terminology points towards the covenant renewal setting of Exodus
34, Deuteronomy 10, and Nehemiah 9, see Bilhah Nitzan, “4QBerakhot (4Q286–290): A
Preliminary Report,” in New Qumran Texts and Studies: Proceedings of the First Meeting of the
International Organization for Qumran Studies, Paris 1992, ed. George Brooke with Florentino
García Martínez, STDJ 15 (Leiden: Brill, 1994), 53–71.
7  Nitzan, “286–290. 4QBerakhota-e,” 1.
8  E.g., James R. Davila, Liturgical Works, Eerdmans Commentaries on the Dead Sea Scrolls
(Grand Rapids, Michigan: Eerdmans, 2000), 41; Russell C.D. Arnold, The Social Role of Liturgy
in the Religion of the Qumran Community, STDJ 60 (Leiden: Brill, 2006), 67; Jeremy Penner,
“Mapping Fixed Prayers from the Dead Sea Scrolls onto Second Temple Period Judaism,” DSD
21 (2014): 39–63, 43–44.
Ritualization and the Power of Listing in 4QBerakhot a 441

God’s creation blessing God and cursing Belial and his disruptive forces against
creation.9
I do not aim to solve this issue here or form any overall theory of the com-
position. What the manuscript’s relation to any ritual behaviour and ritual set-
ting may have been is largely unknown. The manuscript has clear liturgical
markers (see below), and it presents itself as a ritual text. I am interested in this
text’s potential of triggering mechanisms connected with ritualized behaviour
in any type of reading/memorizing of the text (individual or collective), but
especially in its use in special ritual contexts where expectations of what takes
place and happens in rituals would have played a role in the performance of
such traditions.

Listing Heaven and Earth

If we follow Umberto Eco, lists are no small thing: lists are the origin of cul-
ture, and culture seeks to make infinity comprehensible.10 Whereas the skills
of writing and making lists formed the basis for the early formation of eco-
nomics, government and education, lists not only occur in documentary texts
and lexicons. More widely, they organize presentations and are also found in
literary texts. Shaye Cohen argues,

Scholarship begins with lists: the organized collection, classification, and

presentation of data. A list is an attempt to make order out of chaos, to
take discrete bits of information and to make them useful, to make con-
nections explicit that otherwise are implicit or invisible. An organized
thematic list is the result of a scholarly way of thinking.11

9  Pajunen, “Creation as the Liturgical Nexus of the Blessings and Curses in 4QBerakhot.”
10  Umberto Eco, The Infinity of Lists, trans. Alastair McEwen (London: MacLehose, 2009).
11  Shaye J.D. Cohen, “False Prophets (4Q339), Netinim (4Q340), and Hellenism at Qumran,”
JGRChJ 1 (2000): 55–66, 62. Similarly, Frank-Lothar Hossfeld and Erich Zenger, Psalms
3: A Commentary on Psalms 101–150, trans. Linda M. Maloney, Hermeneia (Minneapolis:
Fortress, 2011), 632, who traces the creation psalm tradition to the Egyptian school of wis-
dom and scientific understanding of the world, and also to Mesopotamian prayers where
gods and elements of the world are called for praising the highest god. For example, for
the 4QCommentary of Genesis (4Q252) as revealing a mood of Listenwissenschaft, see
Shani Tzoref, “4Q252: Listenwissenschaft and Covenantal Patriarchal Blessings,” in ‘Go
Out and Study the Land’ ( Judges 18:2): Archaeological, Historical and Textual Studies in
Honor of Hanan Eshel ed. Aren M. Maeir et al., JSJSup 148 (Leiden: Brill, 2011), 335–57.
442 Jokiranta

We inherently assume that lists have some logic in them or that they refer to an
outside reality ordered in a particular way. According to Robert Belknap, lists
invite their audiences to wonder: Why? Why this list in this form? Why here?12
In an introduction to a volume on lists, Lucie Doležalová states:

A list is a sequence . . . a catalogue of items which are not connected to

each other except by the means of the order and possibly by the unifying
idea behind its creation. The lack of syntax is, in a way, a lack of direction
for the recipient. Thus, much more than in a usual narrative, the reader is
left on his or her own. It is possible to find a story in a list but it requires
special attention and effort by the reader.13

After these preliminary remarks on the art of listing, let us first read the lists in
4Q286. The list in fragment 1 does not contain any personal verbal forms, only
nouns, adjectives and participle forms, often in construct pairs or sequences,
listing items in the heavenly realm or its characteristics.14

4Q286 1a, ii, b 1–13 Text and Translation by B. Nitzan, DJD 11 (1998)

‫מושב יקרכה והדומי רגלי ̇כ ̊ב ̇ודכה‬ 1. The seat of Your honour and the foot-
]‫ומד ̇ר[ך‬
̇ ‫̊ב‏[מ] ̊רומי עומדכה‬ stools of Your glory in the [h]eights of
Your standing-place and the trea[d]
‫קודשכה ומרכבות כבודכה‬ 2. of Your holiness; and the chariots of Your
‫ואופניהמה וכול‬
̊ ‫כרוביהמה‬ ̊ glory, their cherubim and their wheels
‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬]‫̇ס ̇ו ̇די̇‏[המה‬ with all [their] councils;
‫נוגה וזהרי הוד‬ ̊ ‫̇מו̇ סדי אש ושביבי‬ 3. foundations of fire and flames of bright-
‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‫ומאורי פלא‬
̊ ‫נה[ור]י̊ ̊אורים‬ ness, and flashes of splendour, li[ght]s of
flames and wondrous lights.

12  Robert E. Belknap, The List: Uses and Pleasures of Cataloguing (New Haven: Yale University
Press, 2004), xii–xiv. Lists are naturally of many kinds: lists facilitate information retrieval,
provide a choice of available alternatives, and form a ranking, for example. They may
contain condensed information (keywords) or a purely aesthetic rhythmic structure.
13  Lucie Doležalová, “Introduction: The Potential and Limitations of Studying Lists,” in The
Charm of a List: From the Sumerians to Computerised Data Processing, ed. Lucie Doležalová
(Newcastle upon Tyne: Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2009), 5. Emphasis mine.
14  There is one reconstruction of an infinitive construct in line 9, ‫בהר[אותמ]ה‬
̊ , referring to
the appearances of “wondrous mysteries.” For the style of poetic parallelism in the list and
the use of the preposition ‫ ב‬in 4Q286 1 ii 8b–11, see Nitzan, “286–290. 4QBerakhota-e,” 4–5.
Ritualization and the Power of Listing in 4QBerakhot a 443

‫[הו]ד והדר ורום כבוד סוד קודש‬ 4. [Majes]ty and splendour, and height
‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬]‫ומק[ור ז]ו̇ הר ורום תפארת פ[לא‬
̇ of glory, foundation of holiness and
foun[tain of b]rightness, and height of
beauty; wo[nder]
‫[הוד]ות ומקוה גבורות הדר‬ 5. [of thanks]giving and a well of powers,
‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬]‫ורפאו̊ [ת‏‬
̇ ‫תשבוחות וגדול נוראות‬ splendour of praises and great in awe-
some deeds and healin[g] / healing[s]
‫ומעשי פלאים סוד חוכמא ותבנית‬ 6. and miraculous works; a foundation of
‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‫דעה ומקור ̇מבינה ̇מ ̊קו̊ ̊ר ̇ע ̊ר ̊מה‬ wisdom and a structure of knowledge
and a fountain of insight, a fountain of
prudence
̇‫שכל‬
̊ ‫אוצר‬ ̊ ‫ועצת קודש וסוד אמת‬ 7. and a counsel of holiness, and a founda-
̇
‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬]‫מבני צדק ומכוני יוש̇[ר רב‬ tion of truth, a treasury of understand-
ing; structure/s of justice, and abode/s of
hone[sty; abounding]
‫חסדי̊ ̊ם וענו̇ ת טוב וחסדי אמת‬ ̇ 8. in kind deeds and virtuous humility, and
‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬]‫ורחמי עולמים ורזי פל̇[אים‬ true kindness and eternal mercies. And
wo[ndrous] mysteries
‫בהר[אותמ] ̊ה ושבועי קודש‬ 9. when th[ey app]ear and holy weeks in
‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬]. . .[ ‫בתכונמה ודגלי חודשים‏‬ their fixed order, and divisions of months,
[ ]
‫ראשי ש]נ̊ ים בתקופותמה‬. . .[ 10. [beginnings of y]ears in their cycles and
‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬]. . . ‫בתעודות‏[מה‏‬
̊ ‫ומועדי כבוד‬ glorious festivals in times ordained [for
them, ]
‫]ו̇ שבתות ארץ במחל[קותמה‬. . .[ 11. [ ] and the sabbatical years of the earth
‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬]. . . ‫ומו]עדי דרו̊ [ר‏‬ in [their] divi[sions and appo]inted times
of liber[ty ]
‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬]. . .[ ‫] ‏ל‬. . .[‫] ̊ר ̊ורי נצח ו◦‏‬. . .[ 12. ] eternal generations and [ ]l [ ]
‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬]. . . ‫וחש[בוני‏‬
̇ ‫] ̊אור‬. . .[ 13. [ ]light and reck[onings of ]

Similarly, fragment 5 contains a list of nouns from the created world, and even
though it is not as well preserved, it clearly creates a contrast to the list of heav-
enly items.15

15  For the repetition of the word ‫כול‬, “all,” see Nitzan, 286–290. 4QBerakhota-e,” 5.
444 Jokiranta

4Q286 5a-c 1–13 Text and Translation by B. Nitzan, DJD 11 (1998)

‫]◦◦ה הארץ וכול‏ [א] ̇ש ̊‏ר [עליה‬ 1.  ] h the earth and all [t]hat is [on it,
‫תבל וכול] יושבי בה אדמה וכול‬ world and all] its inhabitants; ground and
‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬◦ ‫מחשביה‬ all its depths
‫ארץ וכו]ל יקומה[ הרים וכו]ל‬ 2. earth and al]l its living things; [moun-
‫גבע[ו] ̇ת ̊גיאות וכול אפיקים ארץ‬ tains and al]l hil[l]s; valleys and all ra-
‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬]. . . ‫̊ציי̊ [ה‏‬ vines; ari[d] land [ ]
‫א]רזה מצולי̇ י̇ ערים וכול מדברי‬ 3. ] its [ce]darwood; the shady woods and
‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬]. . . ‫חור[ב‏‬ ̇ all desola[te] deserts; [ ]
̊ ‫]◦ ו̇ תוהיה ואושי‬
‫מבנ̊ י̊ תה אי̊ י̊ ם‬ 4. ] and its howling places and the founda-
‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬]. . . ‫ו̊ [‏‬ tions of its pattern; hyenas and[ ]
‫ארזי‬ ̊ ‫] פרי‏[מ] ̇ה עצי ̊רו̊ ם וכול‬ 5. ] the[i]r fruits, lofty trees and all the ce-
‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬ ]. . . ‫̊ל ̇בנ̊ [ון‏‬ dars of Leban[on ]
‫צהר וכול תבנואבות‏‬ ̊ ̊‫דגן ת]י̊ ̊רו̊ ש ו̊ י‬ 6. grain, w]ine, and oil, and all produce [ ]
‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬]. . .[
‫תבל ̊בחדשים שנ̊ [י‬ ̇ ‫] וכול תנופות‬ 7. ] and all elevated offerings of the world in
‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬]. . . ‫עשר‏‬ twe[lve] months
‫א]ת דברכה אמן אמן‏‬ 8. ] Your word. Amen amen vacat [ ]
‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬]. . .[ ‫‬‏‬vacat
‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬]. . . ‫תהום[‏‬
̊ ‫ימים מעיני‬ ̇ ‫] ו̇ ̊מ ̇צור‬ 9. ] and creatures of the seas, the fountains
of the deep[ ]
‫] ̊ם ו̊ ̊כו̊ ל נחלים יארי מצו̊ ̊לו ‏‬
‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬]. . .[ ‫ת‬ 10. ]m and all rivers, the channels of depths
[ ]
‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬]. . .[ ‫ם‬ ‫◦◦מ ̇מה‏ ◦◦◦ י̊ מי ‏‬ ̇ ] 11. ] mmh of the seas [ ]
‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬]. . .[‫סודיהמה א‏‬
̇ ‫כ]ו̇ ̇ל‬ 12. a]ll their councils ʾ [ ]
‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬]. . .[ ‫] ̇שכה‏‬ 13. ]skh [ ]

What are the markers in these lists and the manuscript which help the reader
or listener to understand what the lists are about? A brief analysis of the con-
text is in order here.

Lists of 4Q286 in Context

The beginning of 4Q286 has not been preserved, so it is not known if the lists
had an introduction, title or rubric of some sort. However, we may first note the
presence of several (at least seven) “amen amen” responses in the manuscript,
Ritualization and the Power of Listing in 4QBerakhot a 445

suggesting an implied liturgical setting for the text.16 One response occurs di-
rectly in the middle of the list of frg. 5 (5 8).17 Several “amen amen” responses
are found in connection with the curses in frg. 7 ii. It can be concluded that
lists are potentially sections which call for such a response.
In addition, we may notice the following markers, which especially mention
acts of blessing and cursing, elsewhere in the manuscript:

•
Some items in frg. 1 have second-person singular suffixes (1 ii 1–2), thus most
likely addressing God.
•
Frg. 2 includes the verb ‫ יברכו‬as a likely reconstruction in the sentence: ]‫[יברכו‬
‫ בי] ̇חד כולמה את שם קודשכה‬, “]all [will bless toge]ther Your holy name” (l. 4).
The following line mentions that “[they] will curse” (l. 5).
•
Frg. 7 a i, b-d refers to “blessings (‫ )ברכות‬of truth in the times of fe[stivals]”
(l. 4) and two references to praising activity: “[. . . c]ouncil of elim of purifica-
tion with all those who have eternal knowledge, to prai[se and to bles]s Your
glorious name in all [ever]la[sting ages]” (ll. 6–7); “. . . they shall again bless
the God of [ ]” (l. 8).
•
Frg. 7 a ii, b-d contains explicit exhortations to curse/pronounce curses, and
it also includes cursing words. The curses are introduced with introductory
formulas, such as “they shall say,” and the curses begin with the word ‫ארור‬,
“cursed be,” or ‫“ ארורים‬cursed are.”

In contrast to the cursing section of the manuscript (frg. 7 ii), no introductory

formulas are preserved which are directly connected to any blessing, and no
‫“ ברוך‬blessed be” formulas are found. In light of the above references to bless-
ing/praising activity, it is likely that God and his name are the referred objects

16  The preserved “amen amen” responses are found in 4Q286 1a i 8; 5a-c 8; 7 a i, b-d 7; 7 a ii,
b-d 1, 5, 10; 9 3.
17  Frg. 5 consists of at least three separate pieces, which Nitzan (DJD 1998:22) designates
as 5a, b, c. Nitzan joins pieces 5a, b to piece 5c in line 6 (and line 7), which can be ques-
tioned. Both the PAM image (PAM 43.312) and the new Leon Levi DSS Digital Library
image (Plate 691, Frg. 2: B-498985) represent placements of these pieces that are not pos-
sible: the strokes of the letters in separate pieces as they are placed do not fit together.
The placement could be corrected or, alternatively, frg. 5c might come from elsewhere in
the scroll—this possibility still remains to be confirmed. For our purposes here, it is note-
worthy that, if placed together, frg. 5 forms a list of the created world order and different
structures and items in it, and the “amen, amen” formula breaks this list, separating the
waters and their creatures from the land and its contents.
446 Jokiranta

of blessings in the manuscript (rather than humans, as in 1QS 2) and that this
activity is repetitious—in regard to both time (e.g., references to “times of fes-
tivals”) and recurring in several places in the composition (references to bless-
ing occur in several fragments in different places in the manuscript).
Other evidence for understanding the contents of 4Q286 as blessings is
often derived from the parallel manuscript 4Q287.18 However, even though this
manuscript contains similar themes to 4Q286, there are very few instances of
direct parallels and overlaps, and one must be careful about drawing firm con-
clusions about the relationship of the manuscripts.19 I wish to practise cau-
tion and problematize the neat picture that Nitzan provides of the blessings
of 4Q286 (see above). Thus, we may conclude that 4Q286 contains explicit
references to praising and blessing in fragments 2 and 7, as noted above (as
well as to cursing in frg. 7), but the nature of the lists in fragments 1 and 5 is
not explicitly defined by any evident markers in their close proximity in their
preserved form.
This is significant, since it means that the lists, at least as we have them, may
be open to more than one interpretation. Are the listed items part of the heav-
enly and earthly creation praising God (either praising in the present or called
to join in the praising),20 or are the lists referring to items that God has created
and for which he is praised?21 Is the list of the heavenly realm about divine
acts and results of creation, about (secret) divine characteristics and epithets,
or both?22 Scholars seem to have identified all of these meanings in the list.

18  In 4Q287, see esp. frg. 3, “they will bless Your holy name with blessings,” “[And] all the
creatures of flesh, all those [You] created, [will ble]ss You” (3 1–2); see frg. 5, “all of them
[will bless] You togeth[er]. Amen, amen” (5 11).
19  See Nitzan, “286–290. 4QBerakhota-e,” 1, 3. The explicit parallels between 4Q286 and
4Q287 are found in curses (4Q286 7a ii; 4Q287 6) and in another fragment which seems to
preserve a list of angels and spirits (4Q286 12; 4Q287 2b).
20  See Bilhah Nitzan, “Harmonic and Mystical Characteristics in Poetic and Liturgical
Writings from Qumran,” JQR 85 (1994): 163–83, 171–72, according to whom the lists de-
scribe heavenly and earthly worshippers.
21  See Nitzan, “286–290. 4QBerakhota-e,” 15, and her notes on frg. 4Q286 1 a ii, b 5: the line
contains “praises of God for his powerful and awesome deeds” (emphasis mine). In “The
Praise of God and His Name as the Core of the Second Temple Liturgy,” ZAW 127 (2015):
475–88, Mika S. Pajunen remarks on 4QBerakhot: “[A]ll of the extant blessings are about
God’s different works in creation and for these the elect community of the Yahad praises
the name of God together with the angels (4Q286 2 and 7i)” (p. 485).
22  See Nitzan, “286–290. 4QBerakhota-e,” 14, and her notes on frg. 4Q286 1 a ii, b 4: “Line
4 details attributes having to do with God’s glory and magnificence” (emphasis mine).
Similarly, Nitzan views (p. 15) lines 7–8 as containing divine attributes. See also Esther
G. Chazon, “Human and Angelic Prayer in Light of the Scrolls,” in Sapiential, Liturgical,
Ritualization and the Power of Listing in 4QBerakhot a 447

Being very cautious about the nature of the lists, I tentatively speak of contem-
plation on the heavenly and earthly realm (rather than praises or blessings).23
What is clear is that the mere listing of items gives our lists a distinct
colour.24 To step outside this manuscript for a moment, similarities with other
texts and traditions have been identified, of course, but differences should
also be noted. The beginning of frg. 1 reminds of merkavah mysticism with vi-
sions of the heavenly throne (Ezek 1, 10; Dan 7, 10; 1 Enoch 14; 4QSongs of the
Sabbath Sacrifice); yet in merkavah mysticism, heavenly heights are described
in relation to an earthly being, often in narrative form, and those features are
missing in our lists.25 Frg. 1 may also have been modelled according to bibli-
cal lists of divine attributes revealed to humans, such as those encountered in
covenant renewal settings (Ex 34:6–7; Deut 10:17),26 but the list in frg. 1 also far
exceeds the biblical models in length and design.
The mere inventorying also sets these lists apart from many creation psalms
where God is praised for wonderfully planning, forming and keeping his cre-
ation and its parts, where everything works well; these are descriptions of
God’s creative acts using a variety of verbal forms: “You stretch out the heavens
like a tent, you set the beams of your chambers on the waters, you make the
clouds your chariot, you ride on the wings of the wind” (Ps 104:2–3; cf. Psalm
147; 4Q381 1).27 Our lists in 4Q286 also seem to differ from “liturgical” psalms

and Poetical Texts from Qumran: Proceedings of the Third Meeting of the International
Organization for Qumran Studies, Oslo, 1998, ed. Daniel K. Falk et al., STDJ 35 (Leiden Brill,
2000), 35–47, 40: “4QBerakhot opens with blessings which praise God’s attributes and de-
scribe the heavenly Temple, the divine chariot-throne, and various classes of angels.”
23  In the covenant-making contexts, heaven and earth are also referred to as witnesses of the
covenant (Deut 30:19; 32:1). Furthermore, heavenly and earthly items might also refer to
their renewal and new creation (cf. 4Q278 3 2–4; 4Q434 2 2–3).
24  As Nitzan states in “4QBerakhot (4Q286–290): A Preliminary Report,” 63: “This catalogue
style creates the mood of what have been called ‘Numinous Hymns’,” known from later
periods.
25  The list of the heavenly realm in frg. 1 of 4Q286 includes similar vocabulary as the merka-
vah visions, where the divine court or temple with all of its numinous angelic beings and
extraordinary features is revealed to a visionary. The Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifices may
be closest to 4Q286 in that they also contain long lists with little syntax; for the edition,
see Carol Newsom, “Shirot ʿOlat Hashabbat,” in Qumran Cave 4 VI: Poetical and Liturgical
Texts, Part 1, ed. Esther Eshel et al., DJD 11 (Oxford: Clarendon, 1997), 173–402. See further
Nitzan, “Harmonic and Mystical Characteristics in Poetic and Liturgical Writings from
Qumran,” 171–72.
26  See Nitzan, “4QBerakhot (4Q286–290): A Preliminary Report,” 56.
27  For Ps 104, see Adele Berlin, “The Wisdom of Creation in Psalm 104,” in Seeking Out
the Wisdom of the Ancients: Essays Offered to Honor Michael V. Fox on the Occasion of His
448 Jokiranta

where creation is exhorted to praise God with repetitious exhortations, such as

‫“ ָּב ֲרכּו יְ הוָ ה‬bless Yahweh” in Ps 103:20–22 (cf. Pr Azar 1:35–65) or ‫“ ַה ְללּוהּו‬praise
him” in Psalm 148 (cf. 4QSongs of the Sabbath Sacrifice: e.g., 4Q403 1).28 Biblical
psalms represent what Bilhah Nitzan calls a “cosmological approach” to
praise, in which all heavenly and earthly beings praise God the Creator in full
harmony.29 The harmony in the liturgical hymns is, according to Nitzan, cre-
ated by repetitious calls for praise, the universal nature of the praise, and the
repetition of certain formulas throughout the universe. She argues that 4Q286
falls under the same category.30 However, repetitious calls for praise and rep-
etitious formulas are not present (or not preserved) in 4Q286. Yet creation tra-
ditions, especially the formulaic style of Genesis 1 and creation psalms, were
important influences in the sense that the listing of things and praise grew
stronger in the Second Temple literature.31

Sixty-fifth Birthday ed. Ronald L. Troxel et al. (Winona Lake, IN: Eisenbrauns, 2005), 71–83,
who argues that the created natural world in this Psalm is also God’s revelation of Himself
and of the wisdom that underlies creation: “The effect of this line of thought is to make
creation not only a way to praise God but also a way of access to divine wisdom—that
same divine wisdom embodied in the Torah” (p. 74). See Hans-Joachim Kraus, Theology of
the Psalms, trans. Keith Crim (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1992), 31–41, who sees two types of
statements about creation in Psalms: creation praises God and creation gives a testimony
to God’s glory (mediating revelation). The idea that listing heavenly and earthly aspects
has to do with access to divine wisdom is worth considering in 4Q286, too.
28  See Nitzan, “Harmonic and Mystical Characteristics in Poetic and Liturgical Writings
from Qumran,” 169, who distinguishes two literary forms of praise: a “descriptive” one (per
Psalm 104) and a “liturgical” one (per sections in Psalms 103 and 148). For Psalm 148 build-
ing on Psalms 93–100, as well as on Psalms 103 and 104, see Hossfeld and Zenger, Psalms 3:
A Commentary on Psalms 101–150, 632.
29  The cosmological approach is different from a “mystical approach,” in which earthly and
heavenly realms are somewhat apart from each other, so that either the praise takes place
in the heavenly heights or the earthly (chosen) congregation is elevated to praise together
with the heavenly one; see Nitzan, “Harmonic and Mystical Characteristics in Poetic and
Liturgical Writings from Qumran,” 163–83.
30  Nitzan, “Harmonic and Mystical Characteristics in Poetic and Liturgical Writings from
Qumran,” 170. However, Qumran hymns differ from biblical ones, according to Nitzan,
“Harmonic and Mystical Characteristics in Poetic and Liturgical Writings from Qumran,”
176, in that only the Qumran hymns include information on appointed times for praising.
31  See further Mika S. Pajunen, The Land to the Elect and Justice for All: Reading Psalms in
the Dead Sea Scrolls in Light of 4Q381, JAJSup 14 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht,
2013); Pajunen, “The Praise of God and His Name as the Core of the Second Temple
Liturgy,” 475–88; Pajunen, “Creation as the Liturgical Nexus of the Blessings and Curses in
4QBerakhot.”
Ritualization and the Power of Listing in 4QBerakhot a 449

The Art of Listing in 4Q286

To return to 4Q286 itself, the main point is to take seriously the lack of clues of
how to interpret the lists. Even if there existed models outside of this text and
features within the manuscript (not all preserved) directing one’s interpreta-
tion, the lists themselves may also function without such interpretative con-
texts (or within different interpretative contexts). Our attention is directed to
an apparent feature in the lists: the sense of their universal nature, their com-
prehensiveness, and their invitation to capture the universe in the form of lists.
Given the lack of syntax, different readers naturally understand and orga-
nize lists differently: “Lists are personal constructions that invite different inter-
pretations from different readers.”32 In her preliminary report on 4QBerakhot,
Nitzan saw a three-part structure in the list of frg. 1.33 According to her, God is
praised “by cataloguing items of three kinds”:

1) visions of the heavenly abode and throne (ll. 1–3)

2) divine attributes (ll. 4–8b)
3) the mysteries of God’s knowledge (ll. 8c–11)

She also distinguishes “subject matters” within the list, so that it speaks of:

1) the heavenly throne (ll. 1–2a), heavenly abode (ll. 2b–3), epithets of God’s
glory (l. 4a–c),
2) divine attributes: might (ll. 4d–5b), marvellous acts (ll. 5c–6a), wisdom
and knowledge (ll. 6b–7b), justice and honesty (l. 7c), grace and mercy
(ll. 7d–8b),
3) divine mysteries: holy times (ll. 9–11).

That the subjects identified do not clearly follow her three-part structure may
point towards the non-fixity of the boundaries of sections.
Readers differ, and lists may be understood differently. My understanding
of the list in 4Q286 1 ii began by noticing the lack of verbal forms and sen-
tences (see above). I then made sense of the list by looking for any kinds of
movement or structure within it, just as Nitzan had done. Since there are no
structural markers (such as vacats) in the manuscript, the reader is called to
create a structure in his/her mind. One of my preliminary perceptions of the

32  Belknap, The List: Uses and Pleasures of Cataloguing, xv.

33  Nitzan, “4QBerakhot (4Q286–290): A Preliminary Report,” 63.
450 Jokiranta

structuring was based on noticing connotations and moves from SPACE to

LIGHT, SOUND, KNOWLEDGE, VIRTUE, and TIME, as highlighted here:34

SPACE 1. The seat of Your honour and the footstools of Your glory
in the [h]eights of Your standing-place and the trea[d] 2. of
Your holiness; and the chariots of Your glory, their cheru-
bim and their wheels with all [their] councils;
LIGHT 3. foundations of fire and flames of brightness, and flash-
es of splendour, li[ght]s of flames and wondrous lights.
4. [Majes]ty and splendour, and height of glory, founda-
tion of holiness and foun[tain of b]rightness, and height of
beauty;
SOUND wo[nder 5. of thanks]giving and a well of powers, splen-
dour of praises and great in awesome deeds and healin[g] /
healing[s] 6. and miraculous works;
KNOWLEDGE a foundation of wisdom and a structure of knowledge
and a fountain of insight, a fountain of prudence 7. and a
counsel of holiness, and a foundation of truth, a treasury of
understanding;
VIRTUE structure/s of justice, and abode/s of hone[sty; abounding]
8. in kind deeds and virtuous humility, and true kindness
and eternal mercies.
TIME And wo[ndrous] mysteries 9. when th[ey app]ear and holy
weeks in their fixed order, and divisions of months, [ ] 10.
[beginnings of y]ears in their cycles and glorious festivals
in times ordained [for them, ] 11. [ ] and the sabbatical
years of the earth in [their] divi[sions and appo]inted times
of liber[ty ] 12. ] eternal generations and [ ]l [ ] 13. [ ]light
and reck[onings of ]

This reading of the list begins with items in the divine court. These give an im-
pression that the reader is taken to a throne room with different spatial struc-
tures, objects, and agents.35 The following items in the list are about fire, light,
brightness, height and majesty. The next list refers to audible items (praises),
but also (visible) miracles. Then the list includes all imaginable nouns related
to wisdom and knowing, and it continues by listing various virtues. Finally,

34  For this, the list may especially be compared to 4QSongs of the Sabbath Sacrificed (4Q403)
1 ii 1–16, which includes similar references to spatial items, light, and sound.
35  These are reminiscent of the visions in Isaiah 6; Ezekiel 1, 10; Daniel 10; 1 Enoch 14.
Ritualization and the Power of Listing in 4QBerakhot a 451

the list (as it is preserved) concludes by structuring time, from smaller periods
(weeks) to larger ones (jubilees).
This does not mean that I regard this structuring as an absolute one, a firm
one, or the only possibility. The moves from one cluster to another are not
strict by any means. For example, some items may refer to many directions:
the “great and awesome deeds” (l. 5) recalls the Exodus miracles (cf. Deut 10:21)
and not sounds of praises; this list might better be understood together with
the previous one as foundations on which the heavens are established and as
sources from which everything springs. Many more intertextual references
could also be identified and the perception of the list would change accord-
ingly. This sort of structure was probably not intended and carefully designed
by the authors; rather, the list seems to create itself naturally, as certain related
words occur close to each other, certain words are repeated, and certain parts
accomplish the sense of persistent listing before moving forward.
As this structure is preliminarily created in my mind, I get a sense of starting
to understand what is going on in the list, but new questions also arise: Why
these themes? Why does the text include some of the human senses (sight,
hearing, sense of heat)? If some moral senses are referred to (giving thanks,
knowledge, justice, honesty, kindness, humility), are these all there is? How are
these acquired? Is the list of times a key for understanding what precedes it?
By praising regularly, keeping festivals, and obeying laws related to time, does
one gain access to all that is said? Or are the times also connected to cosmic
items (the movement of the stars and constellations) listed since they also be-
long to the heavens? Thinking about these possibilities, one starts to wonder:
Is there movement in the list from a less human-accessible sphere to items
which are more visible, comprehensible, and accessible to humans? Or are all
items equally important in comprehending what the heavens are about? The
more I ponder the list, the more I get the sense that it is going around and ap-
proaching the core, the divine, but never addressing God directly, even though
the list starts with items with second-person suffixes. It does not feature any
descriptions of a person sitting on the throne, as found in some of the visions
of the prophets. Yet the heavens are anything but empty. Are all these lists of
unequal character—some being more about inner characteristics, some more
about visible outcomes—to be understood as divine servants or divine agents
of some kind, performing divine tasks?36

36  See Nitzan, “The Textual, Literary and Religious Character of 4QBerakhot (4Q286–290),”
640: “[T]he lists of Berakhot mention not only the titles of those who bless the Lord, but
also data concerning their dwellings, their functions, and their appearance.”
452 Jokiranta

The list itself has many characteristics that may contribute to its con-
struction of authority. The symbolic world it creates is close to things divine,
and it may carry an aura of including secret information of the heavenly
sphere. It builds upon earlier authoritative traditions, and it gives a sense of
ordering (by writing) and extensiveness which in and of themselves may ap-
pear convincing.
The list in frg. 5, on the other hand, is more fragmentary, and it is more dif-
ficult to make sense of it. The most noteworthy feature is the repetition of the
word “all.”37 It is not easy to tell if its usage remains the same or changes from
one section to another in the list. This is my tentative understanding of the list:

EARTH and ITS 1. ] h the earth and all [t]hat is [on it,
INHABITANTS world and all] its inhabitants;
ground and all its depths;
2. earth and al]l its living things;

EARTHLY [ mountains and al]l hil[l]s;

STRUCTURES and valleys and all ravines;
THEIR PARTS ari[d] land [ ]
3. ] its [ce]darwood

DESOLATE the shady woods and all desola[te] deserts; [ ]

LAND and ITS 4. ] and its howling places and the foundations of its
INHABITANTS? pattern; hyenas and[ ]

FORESTS and 5. ] the[i]r fruits, lofty trees and all the cedars of
THEIR PARTS? Leban[on ]

CULTIVATED 6.  grain, w]ine, and oil, and all produce [ ]

LAND and ITS 7. ] and all elevated offerings of the world in twe[lve]
PRODUCTS months
8. ] your word. Amen Amen vacat [ ]

SEAS and 9. ] and creatures of the seas, the fountains of the deep[ ]
WATERS 10. ]m and all rivers, the channels of depths [ ]
11. ] mmh of the seas [ ]
12. a]ll their councils ʾ [ ]

37  Nitzan, “286–290. 4QBerakhota–e,” 5.

Ritualization and the Power of Listing in 4QBerakhot a 453

In the beginning, the term “all” qualifies the earth with all its inhabitants. Then
the list moves to familiar earthy places, such as mountains and valleys; “all”
here possibly identifies smaller parts within these structures: rivers in valleys,
for example. The next part is odd, since it seems that “all” does not charac-
terize smaller items within a larger structure, but rather there is an opposite
pairing (woods—all deserts); it is possible that this part should be understood
differently.38 In the rest of the list, the use of the word “all” is not clear either;
the list moves from listing plants, to listing various agricultural products. Then
there is the striking pause in the list by the “amen amen” formula, after which
begins the list of water elements (see above).
What is similar between this list and the heavenly list in frg. 1 is the mere
listing of items without any functions or actions associated with the items.
However, whereas some of the items are listed in word pairs (construct and
genitive), the use of the word “all” directs one’s attention more to a structure
of “a whole and its parts” than “equal items in sequence.” Furthermore, in con-
trast to the list in frg. 1 ii, one encounters here very few descriptive or evaluative
words connected to the items. One does not know how everything works; the
text just testifies to their existence. Yet if Nitzan’s reconstruction and place-
ment of the fragment parts is followed, it is striking that in the midst of nature’s
areas and constituent parts there is a list of agricultural products (ll. 6–7). This
gives an indication that nature also produces things for humans, as well as of-
ferings to be given to God.
Is the list then what the reader makes of it? In detecting various features
in the list, the reader may wish to see more structure than there is or force
items into his/her structure. Previously it was noted that the ancient readers
probably had models about various types of lists, including those related to
creation, in their minds. To what extent these influenced the reading of these
lists or may have resulted in different understandings of the lists is difficult to
tell. But efforts to make sense of the lists and possible variations in their struc-
turing and interpretation are in my mind crucial for understanding the func-
tion and implications of the lists and their potential impact on the power of a
text like 4Q286. To make sense of this we need to understand the concept of
ritualization.

38  There are various questions concerning these lines. Does the mention of “all desolate des-
erts” begin a new section? Furthermore, line 4 has the hapax word ‫תוהיה‬. The word ‫איים‬,
“hyenas,” could also be read as a plural of ‫אי‬, “coastland,” “island.” It is possible that what
are listed in lines 3–5 are different types of geographical areas (e.g., woods, deserts, coast-
lands) with their constituent parts/inhabitants/products.
454 Jokiranta

Ritualization and Focused Attention

Irrespective of what kind of order the recipient of these lists constructs in his/
her mind, if s/he is to make sense of it or participate in experiencing the world,
the lack of syntax and verbal structures compels the recipient to pay special
attention to the list and listing itself.39 Focused attention is one key feature
employed by what is called ritualization-—that is, activity (often taking place
within rituals, but not necessarily restricted to ritual settings) characterized by
the lack of an explicit goal, doing for the sake of doing, paying attention to the
order of things, following mysterious rather than everyday rules. Building on
Roy Rappaport’s understanding of rituals, Pascal Boyer and Pierre Liénard set
out the following features of ritualized action:40

•
Compulsion: people feel compelled to do the action.
•
Rigidity and adherence to a script: an action should be done in the estab-
lished way.
•
Goal-demotion: actions are divorced from their usual goals.
•
Internal repetition and redundancy: actions involve repeated gestures,
words, or sequences.
•
Restricted range of themes: actions have to do with pollution and purifica-
tion, danger and protection, possible danger of intrusion from other people,
use of particular colours or numbers, construction of ordered environment.

Ritualized actions are not the only thing that takes place in rituals, and they
may not fully explain why rituals are performed in the first place.41 Yet Boyer

39  Lists may result in being received in the opposite way, too: it is easy to skip a list and move
on to other sections with more syntax. My claim is not that every list automatically evokes
the interest of its reader; yet lists have the potential to appeal to the human tendency to
categorization (either as a whole or by virtue of its parts).
40  Pascal Boyer and Pierre Liénard, “Why Ritualized Behavior? Precaution Systems and
Action Parsing in Developmental, Pathological and Cultural Rituals,” Behavioral and
Brain Sciences 29 (2006): 595–613. This research builds on the study of ritualized behav-
iors among obsessive-compulsive disorder patients, including both children and adults at
certain life-stages when intrusive thoughts occur more frequently. See also the extensive
and open peer commentary section in the same volume (pp. 613–50).
41  Rituals are often considered as major contributors in the creation of social cohesion and
distribution of common knowledge, for example. Research on ritualized actions embed-
ded in rituals focuses on responses to perceived threats, but that does not mean that ritu-
als in themselves cannot in general integrate other sorts of responses and a great variety
of experiences.
Ritualization and the Power of Listing in 4QBerakhot a 455

and Liénard suggest that the compelling nature of ritualized actions is suffi-
ciently explained by the existence of certain neuropsychological mechanisms.
First, a precaution system is engaged. Human instincts are evolved to detect
and deal with various kinds of dangers, but in order to be on the safe side there
are also lots of false alarms. The precaution system involves thoughts about
potential threats, which are inferred from clues in the environment, from in-
formation by other people, or self-generated. Such a state of arousal leads to an
urge to do something; non-action is considered dangerous. Consequently,
an action-parsing system is triggered: this is a special attentional state where
actions are parsed into smaller units than more routine actions. Focusing on
low-level parsing causes a load on the working memory, which pushes intru-
sive thoughts temporarily aside. After the performance, intrusive themes may
again become salient and the action is repeated.
According to Boyer and Liénard, certain behaviours in cultural rituals trig-
ger mental templates related to precaution and security systems. Rituals func-
tion as they do since they provide a “cognitive capture” of these systems and
feel attention-demanding and compelling. Ritualization is thus different from
routinization, which is automatic and demands a low level of attention. Yet
most rituals include both types of actions.42
As we do not have access to knowledge about what kind of ritual setting
may have accompanied the use of a text like 4Q286, we must make suggestive
inferences merely on the basis of the text. I am not suggesting that this text and
its lists directly witness to ritualized behaviour. Rather, I am suggesting that,
especially in suitable contexts where a social group is important and cultural
information provides expectations about the ritual and its importance for pro-
tection or avoiding danger (such as falling on the side of the cursed ones), such
lists may have provided an effective and attention-grabbing script to be fol-
lowed, which was also found fitting for relieving experiences of anxiety or in-
security. In situations where there is a perception of an inferred (not manifest)
threat but anxiety is not easily removed and there is no anticipation of a relief
signal, mental systems seem to activate ritualized actions with their high level
of control and explicit emphasis on proper performance.43
Contemplation of aspects of the heavenly and earthly spheres could poten-
tially achieve many things. The comprehensiveness of the lists captures one’s
attention, creating a sense that there is nothing in this cosmos that is outside

42  Boyer and Liénard, “Why Ritualized Behavior?” 608–11.

43  Note the suggestion that scribes used lists as a trauma survival strategy in Roy Shasha,
“The Forms and Functions of Lists in the Mishna” (PhD diss., University of Manchester,
2006), 20.
456 Jokiranta

of God’s reality. This is an empowering feature, especially in the face of being

oneself without power to influence things in the world. By listing everything
there is, one may gain a feeling that there is control over everything. A list can
also direct its reader’s attention elsewhere: by focusing on the invisible heav-
ens and visible earth, one can simply dismiss one’s own position in the world
and entertain the beauty and order of the world around oneself.
That things are not just said once but several times from slightly different
angles in slightly different words helps one to get into the world of the list: it is
not meant to be a minimal list, only mentioning things of the utmost impor-
tance or large categories. The list describing the heavens enjoys the beauty of
majestic words and parallelism, whereas the list about the earth favours the
whole and its structuring into parts. In whichever way one first understands
the list, one may consequently come to think of new ways to understand it,
learn to associate it with new intertexts, structure it differently, and focus at-
tention on different terms than before. The lists do not have to be interpreted
for their meaning; they can also be experienced by means of mental images
and sense perceptions. The lists are good occupiers of working memory. If the
list is understood to include items performing the purpose of creation (pos-
sibly in praise of God), it provides a ready template to imagine a force dis-
seminated in the world, as the list proceeds and describes the way in which
everything is made right. By seeing the world and all of its parts as consciously
reflecting the wondrous order of God—and, even more, as praising God—
people may also have seen the world in new ways outside the ritual setting. If
something did not fit this order, that thing could potentially be placed among
the items to be cursed.
Lastly, ritualized actions could also have made people more receptive to the
authoritative teachings of a movement such as that in Qumran. Uffe Schjoedt,
Jesper Sørensen, and their colleagues present a model for analysing the cogni-
tive effects of ritual actions. They suggest that three factors are often present in
ritual settings that contribute to ritual participants being more susceptible to
collective interpretations of ritual events and religious ideas. They all have
to do with the overloading of the “executive system” of the brain: 1) high arousal
but suppression of emotional expression, 2) goal demotion and causal opaque-
ness, and 3) presence of a charismatic authority.44 Again, we cannot analyse
the use of 4Q286 in a ritual setting, and we are not able to tell how emotionally
arousing it may have been. There is no indication of a special authority figure

44  Uffe Schjødt et al., “The Resource Model and the Principle of Predictive Coding: A
Framework for Analyzing Proximate Effects of Ritual,” Religion, Brain, and Behavior 3
(2013): 79–86.
Ritualization and the Power of Listing in 4QBerakhot a 457

like a priest pronouncing the lists. Nevertheless, the performed lists in 4Q286
represent actions which were distinct from everyday goal-oriented actions. If
embedded in a ritual setting, at least implicitly meant to achieve protection for
the created, harmonious order and avoidance of any disorder—praises could
be seen as having this function, too—the lists together with the curses provid-
ed a mysterious way of achieving this goal. In the “resource model” by Schjoedt,
Sørensen et al., exposure to goal-demoted actions and causal opaqueness con-
sumes or seriously limits one’s capacity to form meaningful representations
of actions, which in turn makes one more open to authoritative construction
about the actions’ representation afterwards.45

Conclusions

The lists in 4Q286 studied here (frgs. 1 and 5) do not in themselves contain
any singular mention of blessing or praising—which makes them all the more
remarkable. It is possible that titles or introductory formulas were part of the
lists, but not preserved. In a larger context, these lists have been seen as an odd
pair to the curses.46 Instead of covenantal blessings (and curses) and a priestly
blessing on the people, the text (in frgs. 1 ii–7 i) is most often interpreted as
being about “blessings to God.” Praises to God and curses of Belial seem to
have formed a common and fit counterpart at this time. Praising God was “a
new form of benediction” in the sense that this was the means to protect one-
self and provide what blessings were meant to provide.47 Whether the lists in
4Q286 are to be understood as listing items of things or agents that praise God,
or items performing the function for which they were created (and thus being
blessed), or listing more abstract divine attributes, attempting to speak about
God without directly speaking about him, or some combination of these, the
most remarkable thing about the lists is that we do not have any one key to in-
terpret them. The lack of syntax within the list and a (possible) lack of external
rubrics demand its recipient to structure and explain it him/herself.

45  Schjødt et al., “The Resource Model and the Principle of Predictive Coding,” 44–45.
46  See Bilhah Nitzan, “Blessings and Curses,” in EDSS 1:95–100.
47  See Jeremy Penner, Patterns of Daily Prayer in Second Temple Period Judaism, STDJ 104
(Leiden: Brill, 2012), 203, for the term ‫( תשבוחות‬also found in 4Q286 1 ii 5) being used to
sing praises for exorcistic purposes. For blessings in general, see Jutta Jokiranta, “Towards
a Cognitive Theory of Blessing: Dead Sea Scrolls as Test Case,” in Functions of Psalms and
Prayers in the Late Second Temple Period, ed. Mika Pajunen and Jeremy Penner (Berlin: de
Gruyter, forthcoming).
458 Jokiranta

In the process of interpreting a list, first impressions easily influence one’s

future perceptions about it. I explored the possibility of ordering the list in
4Q286 1 ii according to initial clusters, from spatial structures to visible and
audible items, from items appealing to abilities of understanding and moral
instincts to items experienced through time. My sub-ordering potentially
influences my understanding of the list, even if it is exposed to other under-
standings. The overall scheme of the list is not clear. Could the order of items
reflect the order of creation or ways in which God works in the world—from
basic spatial structures to things being visible and heard, from things being
known to things being performed at a correct time (as well as things mediated
by angels, responsible for weather phenomena etc.; cf. frgs. 2 and 3)?
The other list studied here, 4Q286 5, is not as well preserved, and it is more
difficult to determine to what extent it goes from larger general statements
about the world and its inhabitants to more specific items, or if the list in-
cludes pairs of opposites or wholes and their parts (or both).
Performed lists can potentially do much more than what one might pre-
sume at the outset, when faced with a long list with little clues of its signifi-
cance and meaning. I have suggested that more remains to be considered
about the lists in 4Q286, not only in terms of blessings of some sort, but rather
as representing media of meditation, including all things known, both factual
and concrete and invisible and abstract, for comprehending what is impor-
tant, and focusing on the perfection of the activity of listing itself as providing
ways in which to cope with an imperfect reality. By employing the work on
ritualized behaviour, I argued that such lists may trigger, in a suitable ritual
and social setting, cognitive mechanisms related to danger and anxiety man-
agement. Ritualized actions are characterized by goal demotion, prescription,
compulsion, and the desire to provide an ordered environment. Lists that were
studied were potentially powerful means of occupying attention and directing
one’s perception; their understanding was also not exhausted by one reading
or hearing. By occupying the user, the contemplation of such lists offered a
dismissal of experiences of chaos and disorder and instead provided an expe-
rience of order, harmony, and control. By not being able to fully comprehend
the lists, people may have become more receptive to the authoritative teach-
ing in how to make sense of such experiences. In this way, this study hopes to
contribute to an understanding of how the authority of a text such as 4Q286, as
discussed by Brooke, could have been endorsed and acted upon.
Jewish Wisdom in the Hellenistic Period: Towards
the Study of a Semantic Constellation

Hindy Najman

Ancient Jewish texts were composed in several languages—notably, Hebrew,

Aramaic, and Greek.* What is the relationship between Greek-speaking
Judaism, which developed mainly in Ptolemaic Egypt, and the contemporane-
ous Judaisms of those who composed texts in Semitic languages, mainly in the
land of Israel?
In the mid-twentieth century, Saul Lieberman, the great scholar of rabbin-
ics, famously asked, “How much Greek in Jewish Palestine?”1 He studied the
many Greek loan words in rabbinic literature and sought to explain exactly
why each term was used when a Semitic word was available. Conversely, oth-
ers have asked how much Hebrew there was in Ptolemaic Egypt. Did Philo of
Alexandria, for example, know Hebrew at all, or did he rely entirely on the
Greek translation known as the Septuagint? Elsewhere authors have argued
that Philo understood the Greek translation, not as a derivative of the original,
but rather as a revealed sister-text of equal status—an idea rooted in the Jewish
notion that the revelation at Sinai was at once both unique and repeatable.2
In my current work, I am broadening these questions. It is not simply a mat-
ter of loan-words, or of facility in one language or another. It is also a question
of the reciprocal transformation of concepts and ways of thinking.3 This is true
across centuries and across linguistic boundaries.
To be sure, the translation of Hebrew scriptures into Greek was one of the
most significant events in the constitution of late ancient Jewish culture. And

* I dedicate this article to my friend, George Brooke, who is a model of generous collegiality,
compassionate pedagogy, ethical reading, and brilliant scholarship.
1  Saul Lieberman, Greek in Jewish Palestine: Studies in the Life and Manners of Jewish Palestine in
the II–IV Centuries C.E. (New York: Jewish Theological Seminary of America, 1942); Lieberman,
Hellenism in Jewish Palestine: Studies in the Literary Transmission, Beliefs, and Manners of
Palestine in the I Century B.C.E.—IV Century C.E. (New York: Jewish Theological Seminary of
America, 1950).
2  Hindy Najman and Benjamin G. Wright, “Perfecting Translation: The Greek Scriptures in
Philo of Alexandria,” in Sibyls, Scriptures, and Scrolls: John Collins at Seventy, ed. Joel Baden,
Hindy Najman, and Eibert Tigchelaar, JSJSup 175 (Leiden: Brill, 2016), 897–915.
3  See my discussion of reciprocal dynamic in Hindy Najman, Losing the Temple and Recovering
the Future: An Analysis of 4 Ezra (Camridge: Cambridge University Press, 2014).

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ���7 | doi ��.��63/9789004344532_026

460 Najman

it is a familiar idea that translations can transform the target language, and
indeed the source language. Major translations—such as translations of the
Bible—can transform cultures. How may we trace these transformations in
ancient Judaism? How can we discern, even in the absence of loan-words, the
subtle effects of Greek concepts on Semitic texts, or of Semitic concepts on
thoughts expressed in Greek? I want to focus on correlations between con-
cepts that I have identified in 4QInstruction used both in Hebrew-language
texts found among the Dead Sea Scrolls and within the Philonic corpus.
An apparent obstacle to my project consists in the use by scholars of ancient
Judaism of distinctions between corpora and distinctions between genres. For
it is of the essence of the kind of study in which I am engaged to seek com-
parisons and contrasts that cross these borders, within which specialists often
confine themselves.
My view is related to my larger project on the constitution, formation, and
fluidity of textual unities. I will say only that the distinctions between canoni-
cal and non-canonical texts, and between distinct genres, is itself an aspect
of the translation between Greco-Roman and Jewish cultures. In particular,
genre classifications are heuristically useful. But generic terms such as “wis-
dom” and “apocalypse” are not used explicitly within ancient Jewish literature
in the ways that “tragedy” and “comedy” are used in Greek texts. Of course,
Philo’s allegorical commentaries, which draw heavily on the Platonic tradition,
are distinct in many ways from sapiential Dead Sea Scrolls. But 4QInstruction
is also different from Hebrew wisdom texts in a variety of ways. However, in
my view, if distinctions between genres are used to prohibit or downplay the
significance of comparisons that cross lines introduced by scholars, then they
are used to disable, rather than to enable, productive work.4
Scholars have generally assumed a category of wisdom literature. There
are members of the club and there are interlopers, but, by and large, there is
general agreement about how to define the wisdom corpus. There is no doubt
that the so-called wisdom corpus from the first millennium is shaped and

4  There has been a great deal of discussion of genre in recent years. See especially George
J. Brooke, “From Florilegium or Midrash to Commentary: The Problem of Re-naming an
Adopted Manuscript,” in The Mermaid and the Partridge, ed. George J. Brooke and Jesper
Høgenhaven, STDJ 96 (Leiden: Brill, 2011), 129–50. See also Moshe J. Bernstein, “4Q159:
Nomenclature, Text, Exegesis, Genre,” ibid., 33–55. See also my article with Eibert Tigchelaar,
“A Preparatory Study of Nomenclature and Text Designation in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” RevQ 26
(2014): 305–25. For a discussion of genre in Hebrew Rule texts see Charlotte Hempel, “Rules,”
The T&T Clark Companion on the Dead Sea Scrolls, ed. George Brooke and Charlotte Hempel
(London: T&T Clark, forthcoming).
Jewish Wisdom in the Hellenistic Period 461

influenced by Mesopotamian, and in later cases, Persian and Egyptian wisdom

traditions. This is true from literary, conceptual, and theological standpoints.
It is well-established that ancient Jewish wisdom texts exhibit the cross-
cultural influences of the Near East. Far less subject to scholarly scrutiny are
late ancient wisdom texts written in the Hellenistic period, of which we now
have a treasure trove, due to the remarkable discoveries, over the last century,
of texts in the Cairo Genizah and in the caves at Qumran. These finds have
opened our eyes to the continuation of wisdom traditions beyond the biblical
canon, to hitherto unsuspected cross-pollinations between Jewish and Greek
wisdom, and to previously hidden connections between ancient wisdom and
later developments in Byzantium and beyond.
However, like most of the terms central to biblical scholarship, the idea of a
genre of wisdom literature was formulated prior to two major discoveries: the
Dead Sea Scrolls and the Cairo Genizah. These finds radically transform our
knowledge of ancient and medieval Judaism between the 3rd century BCE and
the 13th century CE. Scholars have generally applied to these new texts the old
categories and classifications. What is needed, however, is often a rethinking of
the categories themselves.5
I am particularly interested in what we might call a discourse of wisdom
which continues well into and beyond the Hellenistic period, but does so in
ways that introduce and incorporate new traditions and new texts (Hebrew,
Aramaic, and Greek).
Let me briefly first name three ways in which we have begun to rethink the
contours of the wisdom collections:

1) The relationship between the mystical and the philosophical in ancient

Jewish tradition crosses linguistic boundaries. Thus, we continue to find
examples of wisdom traditions that exhibit Hellenistic influence but are

5  For an earlier call for this see Florentino García Martínez, “Sapiential, Liturgical and Poetical
Texts from Qumran,” in Sapiential, Liturgical and Poetical Texts from Qumran: Proceedings of
the Third Meeting of the International Organization for Qumran Studies: Published in Memory
of Maurice Baillet, ed. Daniel K. Falk, Florentino García Martínez, and Eileen M. Schuller,
STDJ 34 (Leiden: Brill, 2000), 1–11, 8: “Specific to the wisdom texts seems to me the acute need
to analyze their relationship with Biblical wisdom compositions (in terms of ideas, vocabu-
lary, compositional techniques, literary patterns, etc.) and with the larger continuum of the
Near-Eastern wisdom tradition. There is also the specific problem of the historical context in
which these texts originated and their function there, as well as their function in the Qumran
context in which they were transmitted, in which they were almost certainly used, and to
which they may have been adapted. And finally, there is the specific problem of the relation-
ship of these texts both to the Wisdom of the Rabbis and to Christian Wisdom.”
462 Najman

written in Hebrew. The philosophical context can help us understand the

logic of 4QInstruction. However, and additionally, to look within and be-
yond the corpus can also be very illuminating.
2) There is an ongoing transmitted Hebrew wisdom and mystical tradition
that runs from the earliest Hebrew wisdom traditions from the Hebrew
bible—all the way through the medieval period. I have in mind the
Hebrew tradition of Ben Sira, but also texts such as Sefer Yetzirah, which
is a much later text that carries on some of the Hellenistic Jewish wisdom
traditions (and I might add, in particular, elements that are said to be dis-
tinctive of 4QInstruction). Here I want to build on the work of scholars
such as George Brooke, John Strugnell, James Kugel, and Yehuda Liebes,
among others, who have moved in this direction.
3) New theological and philosophical concepts are introduced into the
Jewish wisdom traditions which seem to come from a distinctive integra-
tion of the Greek philosophical traditions and the Hebrew/Jewish tradi-
tions (legal, wisdom, prophetic, and liturgical).

What does Wisdom look like in the late 2nd or early 1st century BCE among
the so-called wisdom texts from the Dead Sea Scrolls, with a particular focus
on 4QInstruction? Secondarily I want to consider a few texts from Philo that
might also help shed some light for us.
Let me say a little about method, and then consider some of the semantic
elements of wisdom that form a kind of constellation (in the context both of
the larger DSS corpus and the Hellenistic Jewish context, with a particular eye
on Philo’s writings).

On Method

First, I want to suggest that although we cannot say much about access or in-
fluence from the Greek Jewish traditions and the Hebrew traditions, we can
suggest a larger cultural context to consider 4QInstruction. While, early on,
scholars tried to place 4QInstruction between Proverbs and Ben Sira,6 it is best
to locate it in the larger context of Philonic traditions (more generally, in the
contemporaneous and slightly earlier Jewish Hellenistic traditions) and to sit-
uate 4QInstruction within the scrolls corpus as a whole. In what follows I try to
do this semantically, philologically, and philosophically.

6  John Strugnell, Daniel J. Harrington, S.J., and Torleif Elgvin, Qumran Cave 4.XXIV: Sapiential
Texts, Part 2: 4QInstruction (Mûsār lĕ Mēvîn), DJD 34 (Oxford: Clarendon, 1999), 3.
Jewish Wisdom in the Hellenistic Period 463

But I am also thinking about a very open model for reception and develop-
ment of wisdom traditions. Some texts have an excess of vitality (Überleben)
that expresses itself in the fact that they provide the basis for translations, for
new texts in languages other than the original, texts that purport to “say the
same” as the original text although they are self-evidently different. This is true
of the ancient texts with which I am concerned, even texts that we can identify
only in the form of fragments. Such texts can be said to have an excess of vital-
ity that expresses itself in the fact that they provide the basis for new texts. For
example, they give rise to emulations that purport to “say the same” as the orig-
inal scripture although they are self-evidently different. Thus Jubilees and the
Temple Scroll claim to “say the same” as various pentateuchal texts, speaking
in the voice of Moses, or in the voice of the angel dictating to Moses, or even in
the voice of God. And thus, too, in the case of my case study of 4QInstruction.
Far from contradicting the authoritative status of scripture, texts such as
Jubilees and the Temple Scroll—and the “apocryphal” texts of the Melitians—
arise precisely from that authority. To acknowledge certain texts as scriptural
is to recognize them as possessing an excess of vitality, more life than ordinary
texts, and it is the nature of life to generate life, to sustain and reproduce itself.
Insofar as scripture is authoritative, it is also generative.
Far less well known than the story of the development of the historiography
of the text—which has been told by Sebastiano Timpanaro, Glenn Most, and
Anthony Grafton, among others—is the story of a further nineteenth century
development, initiated in 1869—some 80 years after Eichhorn’s groundbreak-
ing work on the history of the Hebrew Bible—by a 24 year old who, in a highly
unusual step, had been appointed to a professorship in classical philology at
the University of Basel. This precocious youth was none other than Friedrich
Nietzsche. If Eichhorn and Wolf, along with Bernays and Lachmann, crystal-
lized the idea of understanding the formation of the text backwards, then
Nietzsche and Kierkegaard articulated the idea of understanding the forma-
tion of the author—and, indeed, of understanding this formation forwards.
I want to focus on the growth and continued formation of the wisdom tradi-
tion—an ongoing and developing wisdom tradition even after no more vol-
umes seem to be added to the library of wisdom texts. Perhaps one of the great
examples is the continued presence, transformation, and copying of Ben Sira
in later Hebrew manuscripts as we know from the Cairo Genizah.7

7  Many scholars are working on this material. See, e.g., Jean-Sébastian Rey, 4QInstruction:
sagesse et eschatology, STDJ 81 (Leiden: Brill, 2009); James Aitken, “Ben Sira’s Table Manners
and the Social Setting of His Book,” in Perspectives on Israelite Wisdom, ed. John Jarick, LHB/
OTS (London: T&T Clark, 2015), 418–38; Aitken, “Biblical Interpretation as Political Manifesto:
464 Najman

Drawing on the work of Walter Benjamin and Weber (with respect to the
notion of constellation) and on sematic field theory from linguistics, I want
to develop the notion of what I call a semantic constellation. Such a constel-
lation would comprise a number of terms such that, if one is found in a text,
then the others are likely to be found too. While the linkages between the
terms may be somewhat flexible, the iterability of the network suggests that
we are dealing with a specific worldview or family of worldviews. In particular,
I want to suggest that we can find something that we might call isomorphism or
equivalences between a Hebrew constellation in 4QInstruction and a Greek con-
stellation in Philo. If this is correct, then it indicates that, notwithstanding the
differences in language and context, these texts can be said to participate in a
common worldview, or at least in overlapping worldviews. Both John Collins
and the edition of Strugnell and Harrington already began to point in this di-
rection.8 I hope that I can develop those insights in what follows.
4QInstruction was entitled: instruction for the meḇin—instruction for the
expert. There was a consensus that the title of this work should somehow indi-
cate that this composition was a “wisdom composition”9 and that 4QInstruction
was to be located between Proverbs and Ben Sira (a point that Collins chal-
lenged in his more recent discussions of 4QInstruction).
I will consider a brief example from 4QInstruction, the fragment 4Q417 1 i
17–18:10

‫ כתבנית קדושים יצרו ועוד לוא נתן הגוי לרוח בשר כי לא ידע בין‬17
‫ ברז נהיה ודע‬vacat ‫ ואתה בן מבין הבט‬vacat ] [‫ [טו] ̇ב לרע כמשפט [ר]וחו‬18

His nature was patterned after the holy angels (ketaḇnit qedoshim). But
insight he did not again give to carnal spirits, for they did not know the
difference between good and evil according to the judgment of His spirit.

The Seleucid Setting of the Wisdom of Ben Sira,” JJS 51 (2000): 191–208; Aitken, ed., The
Hebrew Manuscripts of Ben Sira (Berlin: de Gruyter, forthcoming); Benjamin G. Wright,
“Discovering, Deciphering and Dissenting: Ben Sira’s Hebrew Text, 1896–2016,” in The
Hebrew Manuscripts of Ben Sira, ed. James Aitken (Berlin: de Gruyter, forthcoming);
Aitken, “A Character in Search of a Story: The Figure of Ben Sira in Medeival Judaism”
(forthcoming).
8  John J. Collins, “In the Likeness of the Holy Ones: The Creation of Humankind in a
Wisdom Text from Qumran,” The Provo International Conference on the Dead Sea Scrolls,
ed. Donald W. Parry and Eugene Ulrich, STDJ 30 (Leiden: Brill, 1999), 609–18; Strugnell and
Harrington, DJD 34.
9  Strugnell and Harrington, DJD 34.
10  Strugnell and Harrington, DJD 34:151.
Jewish Wisdom in the Hellenistic Period 465

And you, O enlightened son (ben meḇin) look on the mystery that is to
come (raz nihyeh) and know . . .

When the text was unearthed from the myriad of fragments from cave four in
Khirbet Qumran, scholars immediately engaged in what I have called re-com-
position. They sought to locate the book in the context of the Hebrew Bible—
specifically among what are known as wisdom texts. They also undertook to
reconstruct an Urtext, as far as it was possible, and to use biblical texts from
the Hebrew Bible to reconstruct the language and the spirit of Instruction.
Although the fragments are dated to the 1st century BCE, pre-existing assump-
tions about the development of wisdom literature led to the conjecture that
the text must have been composed earlier, during the 2nd or 3rd century BCE.
There is no question that 4QInstruction should be seen in the context of
wisdom traditions. In the short passage that I am considering one indication
of a connection to wisdom traditions is the address to the reader: the enlight-
ened son—the ben meḇin. Father-son instruction is frequently deployed in wis-
dom literature, for example in Prov 1:8 and many other instances. Nevertheless,
I argue that it is often mistaken—and it is mistaken in this particular case—to
situate a text within only one tradition or genre. In biblical literature, classi-
fications such as wisdom literature, prophecy, apocalypse, etc., are scholarly
constructs and, as such, they are very useful. But we have no evidence of an-
cient Jewish authors setting out to write works of specific genres by conform-
ing to well-known norms, as we do in the ancient Greek context. 4QInstruction
is certainly illuminated by comparison with texts classified as wisdom litera-
ture, but it also participates in liturgical, apocalyptic, prophetic, and legal
discourses.
Perhaps we should back up a little and ask how we might define “Wisdom.”
While scholars such as von Rad and Crenshaw have identified wisdom litera-
ture, suggesting some kind of genre which could perhaps be called a macro-
genre holding together cluster of forms, or a “marriage of form and content”
for sake of instruction,11 the actual features of the so-called wisdom literature
have never been contained by any collection or type. Rather wisdom exhib-
its a worldview involving learning divine ways from observation of nature,
shared by ancient near east and later Persian and Hellenistic traditions. To be
sure there seems to be some instruction form—the parabolic form fit for ex-
pressing analogies between nature and human life—but this does not occur

11  James Crenshaw, Old Testament Wisdom: An Introduction (Louisville: Westminster John
Knox, 2013). Stuart Weeks, An Introduction to the Study of Wisdom Literature (London &
New York: T&T Clark, 2010).
466 Najman

exclusively. Moreover, while scholars have been at great pains to separate

wisdom from prophecy and wisdom from law, the distinctions fall apart once
we take a closer look at prophetic, liturgical, historiographical, and even legal
texts. And, as is especially the case in the Hellenistic period, the explicit and
repeated integration of Torah with Wisdom results in compositions that: iden-
tify natural wisdom and Torah; cosmic or heavenly mystery that transcends all
natural routes to knowledge with Torah; and the blending of an apocalyptic
focus on end time as the very subject matter of revealed wisdom.
Overall, by identifying a library of wisdom, there has been a repeated insis-
tence on ignoring wisdom traditions in a variety of literary works in the hope
of contextualizing the wisdom tradition in particular cultures. What I want to
suggest instead is an alternative contextualization within untimely and frag-
mentary relation to mutual interrogation of hokhmah/Greek sophia.
So, while we are unable to say much about access or influence from the
Greek Jewish traditions and the Hebrew traditions, we can suggest a larger cul-
tural context to consider 4QInstruction and it might be best to locate it in the
larger context of Philonic traditions.
So, as helpful as scholarship on 4QInstruction has been, it has adhered
exclusively to the logic of retrospective philology. Moreover, like much Dead
Sea Scrolls scholarship, it has sought to fit the discovery into a pre-existing
framework of biblical studies, instead of rethinking the framework in light of
the discovery. In my view, we should assume, at least provisionally and in the
absence of other evidence, that the text was composed in the century to which
the fragments are dated. In fact, I propose reading the fragments prospectively,
in light of what the wisdom tradition was becoming. While the earliest wis-
dom texts were written in a culture dominated by Persia, later texts were writ-
ten in a Hellenistic context in which Hebrew, Persian, and Egyptian elements
were combined with Greek elements and other intertextualities in a mutually
transformative way. Even if the works of Philo of Alexandria were written after
4QInstruction, they can still illuminate the earlier work when an adequately
prospective view is taken.
Note, for instance, the use of the term, taḇnit (pattern) in the passage from
4QInstruction. It echoes the use of the term in Exodus and 1 Chronicles, where
the pattern is the divine blueprint for the tabernacle, shown to Moses by God,
or the plan for the temple transmitted by David to Solomon:

Exod 25:9
‫ל־כּ ָל֑יו וְ ֵכ֖ן ַתּ ֲע ֽשׂוּ‬
ֵ ‫אֹות ָ֔ך ֵ ֚את ַתּ ְב ִנ֣ית ַה ִמּ ְשׁ ָ֔כּן וְ ֵ ֖את ַתּ ְב ִנ֣ית ָכּ‬
ְ ‫ְכּ ֗כֹל ֲא ֶ ֤שׁר ֲאנִ ֙י ַמ ְר ֶ ֣אה‬
Jewish Wisdom in the Hellenistic Period 467

Exactly as I show you—the pattern of the Tabernacle and the pattern of

all its furnishings—so shall you make it.

1 Chr 28:11
‫ימים‬
֖ ִ ִ‫ת־בּ ָ֜תּיו וְ גַ נְ זַ ָ ֧כּיו וַ ֲע ִליּ ָ ֹ֛תיו וַ ֲח ָד ָ ֥ריו ַה ְפּנ‬
ָ֨ ‫אוּל ֩ם ְ ֽו ֶא‬
ָ ‫ת־תּ ְב ִנ֣ית ָה‬
ַ ‫מה ְבנ֡ ֹו ֶא‬
ֹ ֣ ‫וַ יִּ ֵ ֣תּן ָדִּו֣יד ִל ְשֹׁל‬
‫וּבית ַה ַכּ ֽ ֹפּ ֶרת‬
ֵ֥

David gave his son Solomon the plan of the porch and its houses, its store-
rooms and its upper chambers and inner chambers; and of the place of
the Ark-cover.

In Exodus (31:2, 6), the ability to translate Moses’s vision into reality is asso-
ciated with wisdom, and of course the association of Solomon with wisdom
(1 Kgs 3:9–12; 2 Chr 1:10–11) is well-known.
Further along this road lie texts such as Philo, Epistle to the Hebrews,
4 Maccabees, and Sefer Yetsirah. But I do not mean to say that there is only
one path, or that going down the road was in any way determined. The pro-
spective view is in another sense retrospective. For we know which road was
actually taken. Yet we can also see forks in the road, and we can consider paths
not taken.
We must distinguish between the the student (the mebin), the intended
reader of the text, and the philological reader. In different ways, both moments
are untimely. First, let us consider the one with insight—the mebin. The term
“mystery”—“raz”—is a Persian loan-word used in the book of Daniel 2 and 4 to
designate a mystery or an esoteric teaching. “That is to come”—“nihyeh”—is in
the niphal. “Raz nihyeh” occurs in other DSS as well. Some occurrences suggest
construal in the past tense, while others indicate construal in the future. Here,
there is no decisive method of disambiguation. Perhaps the mystery concerns
the passage of time towards its divinely ordained end. Perhaps it concerns the
being of God—of God who, in Exod 3:14, reveals the divine name, “I am who I
am” (“eheyeh asher eheyeh”)—which lies beyond time. All we can say is that the
student (the mebin) is to contemplate the vision of this mystery, a vision that
transcends discourse, and to change his life. This is the completion that the
fragmentary text calls forth from the student.
Consideration and comparison with the larger context of Hellenistic
Judaism is very productive and generative. If we look ahead, to the writings of
Philo of Alexandria, we find a generalization of the notion of a divine pattern
whose realization involves wisdom. Here the pattern (paradigma or taḇnit)
468 Najman

becomes nothing less than Plato’s ideas, the paradigm of the created world. In
the Questions on Exodus (on Exod 25:9), Philo of Alexandria writes:

What is the meaning of the words, “Thou shalt make, according to all
that I shall show thee on the mountain, the patters of the tent and the
vessels”? That every sense-perceptible likeness has (as) its origin an intel-
ligible pattern in nature (Scripture) has declared in many other passages
as well as in the present one. Excellently, moreover, has it presented (as)
the teacher of incorporeal and archetypal thing, not one who is begotten
and created but the unbegotten and uncreated God. For it was indeed
proper and fitting to reveal to an intelligent man the forms of intelligible
things and the measures of all things in accordance with which the world
was made. (QE 2.52)12

In another passage, from Philo’s On the Life of Moses, which reflects on arche-
types, he writes:

Therefore Moses now determined to build a tabernacle, a most holy edi-

fice, the furniture of which he was instructed how to supply by precise
commands from God, given to him while he was on the mount, contem-
plating with his soul the incorporeal patterns of bodies which were about
to be made perfect, in due similitude to which he was bound to make the
furniture, that it might be an imitation perceptible by the outward senses
of an archetypal sketch and pattern (paradeigmaton) appreciable only by
the intellect. (Moses 2.74)

4QInstruction can thus to be said to be on the way to this Platonic destination,

but without ever losing its anchoring in biblical traditions. We can see that
Philo’s engagement with the notion of paradigm/taḇnit is deeply connected to
that in 4QInstruction. In Instruction, the pattern (the taḇnit—the paradigma)
is the form of the holy ones or angels, imparted to the human being or, perhaps,
to the human being who possesses, not the carnal spirit, but rather the spirit of
holiness. Thus, as in Philo, it is not that the human being is the image of God;
rather, the image of God is the blueprint whose implementation involves wis-
dom, and the human recipient of this wisdom is created in light of this image.

12  All translations from Philo of Alexandria rely on the translation in Francis H. Colson,
George H. Whitaker, and Ralph Marcus, eds., Philo, LCL (Cambridge, MA: Harvard
University Press, 1929–1962).
Jewish Wisdom in the Hellenistic Period 469

This example of paradigm is one of a series of examples that I have identi-

fied as a congenial and complementary across linguistic boundaries such as
4QInstruction and Philo’s writings. Other such examples will require further
exploration and investigation. I continue to maintain that we can locate el-
ements in 4QInstruction that are in some sense unlocked in the context of
Hellenistic Jewish Writings. Here I want only to mention a few of those ele-
ments in a rather schematic way in order to show the extent and the breadth
of the shared traditions.

Torah
The Torah contains the structure of the law of Nature or is the very organiza-
tion of the raz nihyeh, the mystery that is to come. This represents a tradition
of the Torah which is dynamic and ever-changing. The concept of Torah here
and in the writings of Philo is both about the law for the earthly realm, for
the fleshly spirit, but also taps into the cosmic order of the world and of the
constellations.

Ethics
There is an emphasis in the writings of Philo (especially in On the Decalogue
and On the Special Laws) on the importance of adherence to a set of laws be-
tween human beings on this earth. For both 4QInstruction and Philo, honor-
ing mother and father is a manifestation of deference to one’s creator. Thus
understanding the essential adherence to this respect of one’s creator in order
to achieve perfection, to aspire to be like Moses or like the prophets or like the
teacher of righteousness, is part of that ethic. All of this ethical interaction of
humans is a precondition for accessing the divine in Philo’s writings and in
4QInstruction. But this is an ethic that comes out of reading Torah and under-
standing the philosophical and theological messages.

Creation
Following from this, both Philo of Alexandria and 4QInstruction develop the
central themes of creation as the creation of the order of the cosmos, but also
of the law of Moses. One develops a sense that the story we tell about cre-
ation and the organization of the cosmos sets into place an ordering of our
own world.

Heavenly and Earthly Correspondences

Both in 4QInstruction and in Philo’s writings we see an attempt to construct
heavenly and earthy correspondences with respect to the law and the sig-
nificance of ancient Jewish rituals of prayer and sacrifice. Additionally, this
470 Najman

correspondence also picks up on perfectionist aspirations, to be like God

and close to God, and ethics, with respect to adhering to the laws that govern
human to human interaction.

Conclusion

Both 4QInstruction and Philo’s writings belong to a distinct stage in the devel-
opment of ancient Jewish wisdom. It is a stage at which wisdom has become
transcendent. We can think of it as the third stage in a transition. At the first
stage, wisdom was discernible through the sage’s observation of nature. “The
Lord founded the earth by wisdom” (Prov 3:13), and the sage’s task was to find
the proper analogy between natural processes and the more confusing domain
of human affairs. Hence the use of the mashal form, with its analogical form. If
one considers, for instance, whether one would be happier choosing the path
of Torah study or “the path of sinners,” which surely has its attractions too,
then it may help to reflect on the idea that, while the avid Torah student is “like
a tree planted beside streams of water, which yields its fruit in season, whose
foliage never fades, and whatever it produces thrives,” (Ps 1:3), the wicked (to
continue in Psalm 1) “are like chaff that wind blows away” (Ps 1:4).
However, anyone who observes human affairs for even a short time will
soon realize that this analogy does not always apply. Sometimes, the wicked
enjoy what looks very much like happiness for more than a fleeting moment.
They seem to have more permanence than chaff. In such a situation, one may
perhaps apply a different mashal:13

A brutish man cannot know, a fool cannot understand this: though the
wicked sprout like grass, though all evildoers blossom, it is only that they
may be destroyed forever. (Ps 92:7–8)

Even when the wicked achieve some permanence and are not like wind-blown
chaff, they are nevertheless like grass. They may multiply rapidly, but they lack
the deep roots of a tree, and they can succumb easily to blight or to drought,
as any lawn-owner knows. It takes a sage to see the divine plan underlying the
flourishing of sinners.
This is all very well. But it raises the question: how is one to know which
analogy to apply? To this, the analogical method can offer no answer. In

13  On the workings and dynamic of the mashal see, James L. Kugel, “Wisdom and the
Anthological Temper,” Prooftexts 17 (1997): 9–32.
Jewish Wisdom in the Hellenistic Period 471

criticism of analogical or naturalistic wisdom, there developed the so-called

“anti-wisdom wisdom” tradition.14 God rebukes Job for thinking that humans,
who did not witness creation, could possibly understand the wisdom whereby
God governs human affairs. Ben Sira may not have been included in the rab-
binic Bible, but his formulation of the limits of human understanding has been
frequently cited in rabbinic texts: “Things too difficult for you do not seek, and
things too strong for you do not scrutinize” (3:21).15
In light of the critique of naturalistic wisdom, the only way that a human
being could hope to understand divine governance would be by means of a
wisdom that transcends the nature that it founds. And this would be possible
only if human beings were directly granted by God an understanding of this
wisdom. In 4QInstruction, the transcendent wisdom is the raz nihyeh, while in
Philo it is the divine spirit, which transcends the Platonic psyche and enables
the human being, alone of all creatures, to participate in the wisdom underly-
ing nature. For both 4QInstruction and Philo, this wisdom is accessible only to
those who transcend their bodies. Ultimately, participation in wisdom culmi-
nates in community with the holy, incorporeal beings.
For all that I have said, there remains, of course, significant differences be-
tween 4QInstruction and Philo. For both, wisdom transcends the diurnal time
of everyday life. For Philo, it transcends time altogether. The kosmos noetos,
like God, is eternal and unchangeable. For 4QInstruction, the raz nihyeh tran-
scends in the direction of the eschaton. With its ambiguous tense—past cre-
ation? present governance? future end time?16—the raz nihyeh is suspended,

14  Marvin Pope, Job, AB (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1965), lxxiii: “The speeches of the
friends are orthodox or conservative wisdom, while Job’s discourses may be called ‘anti-
wisdom wisdom’.”
15  See the excellent discussion of this passage in Benjamin G. Wright, “ ‘Fear the Lord and
Honor the Priest’: Ben Sira as Defender of the Jerusalem Priesthood,” in Wright, In Praise
of Wisdom and Instruction: Essays on Ben Sira, and Wisdom, the Letter of Aristeas and the
Septuagint, JSJSup 131 (Leiden: Brill, 2008), 97–126, 114–18.
16  On temporal dimensions of the raz nihyeh see Menahem Kister, “Wisdom Literature at
Qumran,” in The Qumran Scrolls and Their World, ed. Menahem Kister (Jerusalem: Yad
Ben-Zvi, 2009), 1:299–320 (Hebrew); Matthew J. Goff, The Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom
of 4QInstruction, STDJ 50 (Leiden: Brill, 2003), 58; Goff, 4QInstruction, Wisdom Literature
from the Ancient World (Atlanta: SBL Press, 2013), 16; Rey, 4QInstruction, 286–87, 91; and
Gregor Geiger, Das hebräische Partizip in den Texten aus der judäischen Wüste, STDJ 101
(Leiden: Brill, 2012), 388. For more recent discussion and further insight into the temporal
dimension and the organization of the mystery (raz) see the unpublished dissertation of
Arjen Bakker, “The Figure of the Sage in Musar le-Mevin and Serek ha-Yahad.” PhD diss.,
Katholieke Universiteit Leuven, 2015 (forthcoming as a monograph in Brill’s STDJ Series).
472 Najman

as we mortals are, in the middle time, between the creation of this perplex-
ing world and the time when all perplexity will be removed.17 I fully acknowl-
edge this difference, and have no wish to conflate Greek sophia and Hebrew
hokhmah. Yet I want to argue, nevertheless, that there is sufficient correlation
between the Greek and Hebrew constellations of terms to warrant the claim
that these contemporaries inhabited a shared worldview.

See also Eibert Tigchelaar, “Changing Truths ‫ אמת‬and ‫ קשט‬as Core Theological Concepts
in the Second Temple Period” (forthcoming in the Proceedings of the 12th Congress of
IOSOT hosted in 2016 at Stellenbosch University in South Africa).
17  See the following discussions of the raz nihyeh. For a basic discussion, see Daniel J.
Harrington, “The rāz nihyeh in a Qumran Wisdom Text (1Q26, 4Q415–418, 423),” RevQ
17 (1996): 549–53. For more comprehensive discussions, see Armin Lange, Weisheit und
Prädestination: Weisheitliche Urordnung und Prädestination in den Textfunden aus Qumran,
STDJ 18 (Leiden: Brill, 1995), 57–61; Torleif Elgvin, “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, 1947–1997: Proceedings of the Jerusalem Congress, July 20–25,
1997, ed. Lawrence H. Schiffman, Emanuel Tov, and James C. VanderKam (Jerusalem:
Israel Exploration Society, 2000), 226–47, 232 n. 40; Kister, “Wisdom Literature,” 30–35;
Goff, Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 30–79; Goff, 4QInstruction, 14–17; Rey, 4QInstruction,
284–92; John Kampen, Wisdom Literature, Eerdmans Commentaries on the Dead Sea
Scrolls (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2011), 46–50.
In the Garden of Good and Evil: Reimagining
a Tradition (Sir 17:1–14, 4Q303, 4QInstruction,
1QS 4:25–26, and 1QSa 1:10–11)
Jean-Sébastien Rey

The notion of “knowledge of good and evil” is present four times in the second
creation account of Genesis (Gen 2:9, 17; 3:5, 22); especially because the expres-
sion is associated with a vetitive (‫)ומעץ הדעת טוב ורע לא תאכל ממנו‬, it has gen-
erated numerous interpretations, without obtaining a consensus. While Claus
Westermann, for example, insists on the functional nature of “good and bad,”
some scholars have emphasized the sexual character of the expression as re-
ferring to the consciousness of sex. Yet others have understood it as a merism,
denoting totality—to know everything—and some consider that it means the
power of rational and, especially, ethical discernment.1 The aim of this paper
is not to answer the question of the meaning of this text, but to evaluate the
way ancient writers have read, rewritten, and reimagined it in late antiquity
and, especially, how the vetitive related to knowledge of good and evil has
been transformed and reimagined as a gift or a revelation to human beings.
This study will be limited to the reception of the expression in Sir 17, 4Q303,
4QInstruction, 1QS 4:25–26, and 1QSa 1:10–11.

Sirach 17

One of the earliest mentions of the knowledge of good and evil in connection
with Genesis 2–3 is found in the book of Ben Sira in chapter 17:7: “He showed/
taught (ὑπέδειξεν) them good and evil.” This verse is included in a large peri-
cope, from 16:24 to 17:14, that reformulates the creation of the cosmos and hu-
mans on the basis of Genesis 1–3. Unfortunately, this text has been recovered
neither in the Hebrew manuscripts of the Cairo Genizah nor in the Qumran/
Masada fragments; we are therefore forced to rely on ancient Greek and Syriac
translations. In this beautiful poem, four points are worth noting: the creation
of man and the question of mortality, man clothed in strength, the motif of
God’s image related to the question of domination over creation and, finally,
the teaching of good and evil.

1  See the survey in Claus Westermann, Genesis 1–11 (Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1984), 242–45.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ���7 | doi ��.��63/9789004344532_027

474 Rey

The Creation of Humanity and the Question of Mortality

κύριος ἔκτισεν ἐκ γῆς ἄνθρωπον The Lord created a human being

καὶ πάλιν ἀπέστρεψεν αὐτὸν εἰς αὐτήν out of earth, and he returned him
into it again.

‫ ܐܠܗܐ ܡܢ ܐܪܥܐ (ܥܦܪ) ܒܪܝܗܝ ܠܐܕܡ‬God created mankind from earth

‫[ ܘܡܗܦܟܘ ܢܗܦܥܝܘܗܝ ܠܓܘܗ‬dust] and again he will make
them return to it.

The first observation which can be made is that the author judiciously com-
bines in one sentence the first two accounts of creation and three biblical say-
ings: Gen 1:27, Gen 2:7, and Gen 3:19. The allusion to Gen 2:7 is made clear by
the reference to earth as the matter used for the creation of man (ἐκ γῆς in
Greek and ‫ ܐܪܥܐ‬in Syriac2). The allusion to Gen 1:27 is more subtle and is de-
duced from the use of the verb κτίζω. Allusion to Gen 2:7 would have required
the verb πλάσσω for the Hebrew ‫יצר‬. However, the verb κτίζω is not attested
in the first Septuagintal account of creation,3 where all the Greek witnesses
use ποιέω without distinguishing between the Hebrew ‫ עשה‬in Gen 1:26 and
‫ ברא‬in Gen 1:27. Unlike the Septuagint, the revisions, Aquila, Symmachus,
and Theodotion, distinguish between ‫ עשה‬and ‫ ברא‬and translate the former, in
Gen 1:26, with ποιέω and the latter, in Gen 1:27, by κτίζω (καὶ ἔκτισεν ὁ θεὸς [σὺν]
τὸν ἄνθρωπον), exactly as does the Greek translator of Ben Sira. This indicates
that in Sir 17:1 the Greek κτίζω alludes to Gen 1:27, which is also confirmed by
the Syriac translation that uses here ‫ܒܪܐ‬, as in Gen 1:27 (and not ‫ ܥܒܕ‬as in
Gen 1:26 or ‫ ܓܒܠ‬as in Gen 2:7).
These findings lead us to several conclusions. First, the Greek translator of
Ben Sira, as a precursor of the revisions of the Septuagint three centuries later,
appears more subtle than the translator of the Septuagint (and does not fol-
low him) by distinguishing between ‫ עשה‬and ‫ברא‬, ποιέω and κτίζω. Second,

2  Syriac manuscripts of the 7h3 group in Winter’s Concordance (Michael Winter, A Concordance
to the Peshiṭta Version of Ben Sira, Monographs of the Peshiṭta Institute 2 [Leiden: Brill, 1976])
use ‫ܥܦܪ‬, “dust.” This variant could imply a more pessimistic view of human’s creation be-
cause the semantic range of ‫ עפר‬does not cover precisely that of ‫( אדמה‬see Jean-Sébastian
Rey, “Le motif de la poussière en Gen 2,7 et sa reception dans le judaïsme du second Temple,”
in Lire et interpréter: Les religions et leurs rapports aux textes fondateurs, ed. Anne-Laure
Zwilling, Religions et modernités 12 [Genève: Labor et Fides, 2013], 79–94, esp. 84). In this
case, it is difficult to reconstruct the Hebrew Vorlage as ‫ עפר‬and ‫ אדמה‬can equally be trans-
lated by γή in Greek. ‫ ܥܦܪ‬in the Syriac translation could have been used by harmonization
with Gen 2:7.
3  In the book of Genesis, the verb κτίζω appears only in Gen 14:19, 22.
In the Garden of Good and Evil 475

Ben Sira does not consider the two accounts of creation as a double creation,
as did Philo,4 Paul,5 or Gen Rab. 8:11,6 among others. On the contrary, in one
sentence, he combines two different visions of humanity: man in the image of
God (cf. v. 3) and man created from earth.7
The second clause, καὶ πάλιν ἀπέστρεψεν αὐτὸν εἰς αὐτήν, “and he returned
him into it again,” is clearly an allusion to Gen 3:19: τοῦ ἀποστρέψαι σε εἰς τὴν
γῆν, “you return to the earth.” But, as noticed by several scholars,8 in the bibli-
cal narrative death could be understood as a punishment for the disobedience
against the commandment not to eat from the tree of knowledge of Good and
Evil in Gen 2:17: “but of the tree of knowledge of good and evil you shall not
eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall die.”9 In any event, this kind of

4  Philo, Creation, 134: “There is a vast difference between the man thus formed and the man
that came into existence earlier after the image of God: for the man so formed is an object
of sense-perception, partaking already of such or such quality, consisting of body and soul,
man or woman, by nature mortal; while he that was after the (Divine) image was an idea
or type or seal, an object of thought (only), incorporeal, neither male nor female, by nature
incorruptible.” See also his QG 1.4: “Who is the ‘moulded’ man? And how does he differ from
him who is (made) ‘in accordance with the image (of God)’? The moulded man is the sense-
perceptible man and a likeness of the intelligible type. But the man made in accordance with
(God’s) form is intelligible and incorporeal and a likeness of the archetype, so far as this is
visible. And he is a copy of the original seal. And this is the Logos of God, the first principle,
the archetypal idea, the pre-measurer of all things.” All translations from Philo of Alexandria
rely on the translation in Francis H. Colson, George H. Whitaker, and Ralph Marcus, eds.,
Philo, LCL (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1929–1962).
5  See, for example, Col 1:15 and 1 Cor 15:45–49.
6  “R. Tifdai said in R. Aḥa’s name: The celestial beings were created in the image and likeness
[of God] and do not procreate, while the terrestrial creatures procreate but were not created
in image and likeness” (trans. Harry Freedman and Maurice Simon).
7  See also Ephraem, Commentary on Genesis: “He [Moses] thus wrote about the six days of
creation . . . Then he said, ‘This is the book of the generations of heaven and earth’ and went
back to recount those things which he had omitted and not written in the first account”
(Introduction, 5, see Sancti Ephraem syri in Genesim et in Exodum commentarii, ed. and Latin
trans. Raymond-M. Tonneau, CSCO 152–153, Scriptores Syri 72 [Louvain: Durbecq, 1955] quot-
ed by James Kugel, Traditions of the Bible: A Guide to the Bible as it Was at the Start of the
Common Era [Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1998], 108).
8  Gerald T. Sheppard, Wisdom as a Hermeneutical Construct: A Study of Sapientializing of the
Old Testament, BZAW 151 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 1980), 76; Kugel, Traditions of the Bible, 127;
John J. Collins, “Before the Fall: The Earliest Interpretations of Adam and Eve,” in The Idea
of Biblical Interpretation: Essays in Honor of James L. Kugel, ed. Hindy Najman and Judith H.
Newman (Leiden: Brill, 2004), 293–308, esp. 296.
9  This idea is controversial and these quotations of Genesis do not imply that Adam was im-
mortal before the transgression. See among others James Barr, The Garden of Eden and the
Hope of Immortality (London: SCM, 1992), esp. 57–73.
476 Rey

interpretation is well attested in ancient Jewish literature, for example, in

Wis 2:24: “Through the devil’s envy death entered the world,”10 or 1 En. 69:11
which associates death with the acquisition of knowledge: “For men were not
otherwise created than, like the angels, that they should continue righteous
and pure, and death, which destroys everything, would not have touched
them, but through this knowledge of theirs they are perishing, and through
this power it (death) is consuming us.”11
On the contrary, it seems clear that in Sir 17:1 death is not the consequence
of disobedience, but was originally included in the divine plan of creation. The
second verse, “He gave them days in number and a fixed time,” confirms this
view. The allusion to the biblical account is not totally clear but it is possible,
as noted by Sheppard, that a reference to Gen 6:3 is intended: “(man) is flesh,
but his days shall be a hundred and twenty years.” Nevertheless, in the Genesis
account the limitation of days is directly linked to the union of the sons of God
with the daughters of men and with the violence of men in Gen 6:3. If this link
between Sir 17:1 and Gen 6:3 is justified, then Ben Sira once again uses a state-
ment that appears as the consequence of human failure in the Genesis narra-
tive and presents it as part of the original divine plan.12

The Image of God and the Question of Dominion over Creation

(Verses 2 and 4)

The motif of God’s image from Gen 1:27 is framed, as in the first account of
creation, by that of domination over earth in verse 2 (“earth” in Greek [ἐπ᾿
αὐτῆς] and over “everything” in Syriac [‫ )]ܒܟܠܡܕܡ‬and over animals in verse 4
(“all flesh,” “beasts,” and “birds”). The first sentence, in verse 2, using the Greek
διδόναι ἐξουσίαν and the Syriac ‫ܫܠܛ‬, does not refer verbally to Gen 1:26, 28:

10  See also Sir 25:24: “From a woman is the beginning of sin, and because of her we all die.”
Philo, QG 1:45: “(Gen. iii. 9) Why does He, who knows all things, ask Adam, ‘Where art
thou?’ [. . .] O man! Giving up immortality and a blessed life, thou hast gone over to death
an unhappiness, in which thou hast been buried.”
11  Trans. Matthew Black (The Book of Enoch or I Enoch: A New English Edition, with com-
mentary and textual notes by Matthew Black, SVTP 7 [Leiden: Brill, 1985]). See also Kugel,
Traditions of the Bible, 96, who also quotes the Symmachus’s translation of Gen 2:17: οὐ
μὴ φαγῇ ἀπ᾿ αὐτοῦ ᾗ δ᾿ ἂν ἡμέρᾳ φαγῇ ἀπὸ τοῦ ξύλου θνητὸς ἔσῃ, “on the day that you eat of
the tree you shall be mortal.” The Septuagint rendered the sentence as follows: οὐ φάγεσθε
ἀπ᾿ αὐτοῦ ᾗ δ᾿ ἂν ἡμέρᾳ φάγητε ἀπ᾿ αὐτοῦ θανάτῳ ἀποθανεῖσθε (it should be noticed that the
Septuagint uses here the second person plural; see Philo, Leg. 1.101–104).
12  Sheppard, Wisdom as a Hermeneutical Construct, 76.
In the Garden of Good and Evil 477

καὶ ἔδωκεν αὐτοῖς ἐξουσίαν τῶν ἐπ᾿ αὐτῆς And he gave them authority over
the things upon it (i.e. the earth).

‫ ܘܐܫܠܛ ܐܢܘܢ ܥܠ ܟܠܡܕܡ‬And he gave them authority over

all things.

The expressions, both in Greek (διδόναι ἐξουσίαν) and in Syriac (‫)ܫܠܛ‬, almost
systematically translate the hiphil of the verb ‫ משל‬which is found only in late
biblical Hebrew, especially in Ben Sira and 4QInstruction,13 as well as later in
piyyutim. This verb is not attested in the biblical account of creation which
instead uses ‫ רדה‬or ‫( כבש‬Gen 1:26, 28), but it is connected several times with
the creation story in Hebrew texts from the Hellenistic period. This usage of
‫ משל‬may be rooted in Ps 8:7: “You have given him dominion (‫ ) ַּת ְמ ִׁש ֵילהּו‬over the
works of your hands.” But it must be noted that it is also the verb reconstructed
by Józef T. Milik and James C. VanderKam in 4Q216 7:2–3 (Jub. 2:14), in a for-
mulation quite similar to that of Sir 17:2: “He made him rule over everything
on the earth (‫)וימשילו בכל אשר על הארץ‬.”14 This restoration is not hazardous,
indeed the quotation of this Jubilee maxim in the Syriac Chronicle, presents
precisely the same text as the Syriac translation of Ben Sira:

Syriac Chronicle 28:20–2115 

Syriac translation of Ben Sira (Codex
Ambrosianus)
‫ ܘܐܫܠܛ ܐܢܘܢ ܥܠ ܟܠܡܕܡ‬ ‫ܘܐܫܠܛ ܐܢܘܢ ܥܠ ܟܠܡܕܡ‬
And he gave them authority over all things

This astonishing similarity could imply either that both Syriac translations
reflect a similar Vorlage and, then, presuppose a relationship between the
Hebrew text of Sir 17:2 and Jub. 2:14,16 or that both translations are connected,

13  This verbal form is used four times in the Hebrew Bible (Job 25:2; Ps 8:7; Isa 46:5; Dan 11:39)
and four times in the Hebrew fragments of Ben Sira (Sir 30:11a[B]; 33:20b[E]; 45:17b[B];
47:19b[B]). At Qumran it appears 32 times, 18 of them are in 4QInstruction.
14  Józef T. Milik and James VanderKam, “216. 4QJubileesa,” in Qumran Cave 4.VIII: Parabiblical
Texts, Part 1, DJD 11 (Oxford: Clarendon, 1994), 19.
15  Chronicon ad annum Christi 1234 pertinens 1, ed. Jean Baptiste Chabot, CSCO Scriptores
Syri Series Tertia XIV (Paris: Gabalda, 1920), quoted by James C. VanderKam, The Book of
Jubilees: A Critical Text, CSCO 510, Scriptores Aethiopici 87 (Leuven: Peeters, 1989), 260.
16  For the relationships between Ben Sira and Jubilees, see Benjamin G. Wright, “Jubilees,
Sirach, and Sapiential Tradition,” in Enoch and the Mosaic Torah. The Evidence of Jubilees,
ed. Gabriele Boccaccini and Giovanni Ibba (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2009), 116–30.
478 Rey

in one way or another, to each other. In any case, both texts clearly share the
same interpretative tradition, the same reformulation of Gen 1:26 and the same
re-semantization of the domination motif.
In the Dead Sea Scrolls, two other texts use the hiphil of ‫ משל‬in connec-
tion with the creation tale: in Dibre Hameʾorot (4Q504 8 6: “] Y[ou] set him
to rule (‫המשלת[ה‬
̊ ) [over the gar]den of Eden that You had planted[”) and in
4QInstruction (4Q423 1 2: “And in it He has set you in authority to tend it (i.e.
the garden) and to keep it [‫)”]ובו המשילכה לעבדו ולשמרו‬. Both examples pres-
ent the same characteristic by connecting the motif of domination with the
Garden of Eden from the second account of creation. However this motif,
which comes from Gen 1, is totally missing in Genesis 2–3, where God put man
into the Garden to cultivate and keep it (‫ )לעבדה ולשמרה‬and not to rule over
it (‫)המשיל‬. By using the hiphil of ‫משל‬, Ben Sira could suggest a similar equiva-
lence between the earth over which humans have authority and the Garden of
Eden. Indeed, on several occasions, Ben Sira associates the land of Israel with
the Garden of Eden. It is, for example, the case in wisdom’s discourse of Sirach
24 where the Jordan and the Nile are associated with the four rivers of Eden.
All these examples attest a re-semantization of the motif of domination in
the Genesis account by the verbs ‫ רדה‬or ‫( כבש‬Gen 1:26, 28) and the hiphil of
‫ משל‬which has without doubt a more positive connotation, a governance con-
ferred by God on humanity, while ‫ רדה‬and ‫ כבש‬carry strong implications of
domination by oppression.
The second mention of domination, in verse 4, also merits attention:

He placed the fear of him upon all flesh,

even to have dominion over beasts and birds.

ἔθηκεν τὸν φόβον αὐτοῦ ἐπὶ πάσης σαρκὸς

καὶ κατακυριεύειν θηρίων καὶ πετεινῶν

‫ܘܐܪܡܝ ܕܚܠܬܗܘܢ ܥܠ ܟܠ ܒܣܪ ܥܠ ܚܝܘܬܐ ܘܥܠ ܦܪܚܬܐ‬

Although the verb κατακυριεύω figures in the Septuagint of Gen 1:28 to trans-
late the Hebrew ‫כבש‬, the fear motif (ἔθηκεν τὸν φόβον), on the contrary, is to-
tally lacking. This motif depends directly on Gen 9:2: “The fear and dread of
you shall rest on every animal of the earth, and on every bird of the air” (καὶ
ὁ τρόμος ὑμῶν καὶ ὁ φόβος ἔσται ἐπὶ πᾶσιν τοῖς θηρίοις τῆς γῆς καὶ ἐπὶ πάντα τὰ
ὄρνεα τοῦ οὐρανοῦ/ ‫ܟܠܗ ܚܝܘܬܐ ܕܐܪܥܐ‬ ܿ ‫ܘܕܚܠܬܟܘܢ ܘܙܘܥܬܟܘܢ ܬܗܘܐ ܥܠ‬
ܿ
‫)ܘܥܠ ܟܠܗ ܦܪܚܬܐ ܕܫܡܝܐ‬. In Gen 9:2, the command to subdue animals is
similar to Gen 1:28 with the exception that the fear motif is added. The reason
for this addition is clear and well known: in Gen 1:28–29, the diet is exclusively
In the Garden of Good and Evil 479

vegetarian implying that men should dominate animals without violence,

without killing them. By contrast, in Gen 9, God adds a carnivorous diet and
legislates on how to kill animals and involves fear of men in them. But this
new diet is the consequence of the flood and the increasing evilness and vio-
lence of men (Gen 6:5, 11). By combining the allusion to the image of God from
Gen 1:27 with the fear of animals from Gen 9:2, Ben Sira ignores, completely
and voluntarily, not only the account of the fall, but also the dramatic history
between the perfect creation of Gen 1 and its destruction by the flood in Gen
9. As for the preceding verses, Ben Sira considers that the fear of animals and
the carnivorous diet were inherent in God’s initial plan for creation and not the
consequence of man’s violence, as the biblical text indicates. A similar positive
vision of creation is also well represented in other texts from the Hellenistic
period and especially in the Dead Sea Scrolls.

Humans Clothed in Strength

Another example illustrating willingness to reread the Genesis account posi-

tively can be found in the mention that God clothed men in strength in verse 3:

καθ᾿ ἑαυτὸν ἐνέδυσεν αὐτοὺς ἰσχὺν He clothed them in a strength like his
own,
καὶ κατ᾿ εἰκόνα αὐτοῦ ἐποίησεν αὐτούς and in his image he made them.

‫ ܒܚܟܡܬܗ ܐܠܒܫ ܐܢܘܢ ܓܢܒܪܘܬܗ‬In his wisdom He clothed them with

strength
‫ ܘܟܣܝ ܐܢܘܢ ܕܚܠܬܐ‬And he covered them with fear.

In the first clause, the biblical allusion is not entirely clear. As noticed by
Sheppard, the verb ἐνδύω (Syr. ‫ )ܠܒܫ‬could refer to Gen 3:21: “And the Lord
God made garments of skins for the man and for his wife, and clothed them
(‫ | וַ ּיַ ְל ִּב ֵׁשם‬ἐνέδυσεν | ‫)ܘܐܠܒܫ ܐܢܘܢ‬.”17 Several readers of old have interpreted
this text positively, perhaps because of a possible aural confusion between
‫ ָּכ ְתנֹות עֹור‬, “clothes of skin,” and ‫ ָּכ ְתנֹות אֹור‬, “clothes of light.” This is the case,
for example, in Genesis Rabbah, in the Targumim, and again in the Syriac
tradition where the clothing metaphor is developed.18 Ben Sira could be one of

17  Sheppard, Wisdom as a Hermeneutical Construct, 76.

18  Gary A. Anderson, “The Garments of Skin in Apocryphal Narrative and Biblical
Commentary,” in Studies in Ancient Midrash, ed. James L. Kugel (Cambridge, MA:
Harvard University Center for Jewish Studies, 2001), 101–43; Sebastian P. Brock, “Clothing
480 Rey

the oldest witnesses to such a tradition. If this reference to Gen 3:21 proves to
be correct. Ben Sira would here again ignore the dramatic story of the Fall and
the difficult question of the nudity of Adam and Eve.

Knowledge of Good and Evil

Finally, the motif of knowledge of good and evil appears in verse 7.19 While this
verse is not a verbatim quotation of the Genesis account, the context leaves no
doubt as to the allusion

ἐπιστήμην συνέσεως ἐνέπλησεν αὐτοὺς With knowledge of understanding he

filled them,
καὶ ἀγαθὰ καὶ κακὰ ὑπέδειξεν αὐτοῖς and good things and bad he showed to
them.

‫ ܚܟܡܬܐ ܘܬܪܥܝܬܐ ܡܠܐ ܠܒܗܘܢ‬With wisdom and intelligence He filled

their heart;
‫ ܛܒ ܘܒܝܫ ܐܠܦ ܐܢܘܢ‬Good and evil He taught them.

In Gen 2:9, 17; 3:5, the phrase “good and evil” is related to the prohibition of
eating the fruit of the tree of knowledge. In Gen 3:22, knowledge of good and
evil by humans could be understood as a consequence of Adam and Eve’s usur-
pation of illicit knowledge20 or their transgression of God’s prohibition: “See,
the man has become like one of us, knowing good and evil”; Ben Sira reverses
this view, presenting the knowledge of good and evil as a revelation (Greek)
or a teaching (Syriac) from God. The Greek ὑποδείκνυμι occurs seven times in
the book of Ben Sira and is closely related to the notion of revelation. It gen-
erally translates the verb ‫( נגד‬Sir 14:12; 46:20; 48:25; 49:8) or the hophal of ‫ראה‬
(Sir 3:23).21 For its part, the Syriac ‫ ܐܠܦ‬usually corresponds to the Hebrew
‫למד‬, ‫יסר‬, or ‫חכם‬.

Metaphors as a Means of Theological Expression in Syriac Tradition,” in Typus, Symbol,

Allegorie bei den östlichen Vätern und ihren Parallelen im Mittelalter, ed. Margot Schmidt
and Carl-Friedrich Geyer (Regensburg: Pustet, 1982), 11–37.
19  In the Syriac version of Codex Ambrosianus, verse 7 comes right after verse 4 with an
inversion of verses 6 and 7 as compared to the Greek. The Greek II adds verse 5.
20  Sheppard, Wisdom as a Hermeneutical Construct, 79.
21  In the Syriac, it corresponds to ‫( ܚܙܐ‬14:12; 48:25) or ‫( ܚܘܝ‬46:20; 49:8; 3:23).
In the Garden of Good and Evil 481

While it is difficult to reconstruct the Hebrew Vorlage of this verse, at the

end of the pericope, in Sir 17:11–12, the same verbs are related to teaching
the law of life in the Syriac and the judgment in the Greek, paralleled with the
gift of knowledge and the perpetual covenant.

He set before them knowledge (ἐπιστήμην; Syriac: “the covenant

[‫)”]ܩܝܡܐ‬
and a law of life he allotted to them (ἐκληροδότησεν; Syriac: “he taught
them” [‫ ܐܠܦ‬as in verse 7])
A perpetual covenant he established with them (διαθήκην αἰῶνος ἔστησεν
μετ ̓ αὐτῶν |‫)ܩܝܡܐ ܕܥܠܡܐ ܐܩܝܡ ܥܡܗܘܢ‬,
and his judgments he showed (ὐπέδειξεν as in verse 7 | ‫ )ܐܘܕܥ‬to them.

The parallelism of verse 7 shows that Ben Sira understood knowledge of good
and evil as a revelation or a teaching by God and not as something usurped or
that humans acquire by themselves. This revelation parallels the gift of wis-
dom and knowledge. Furthermore, the use of the same verbs in verse 11, related
to the revelation of the Torah, links the two motifs: knowledge of good and evil
is connected to knowledge of the Torah, which finally permits perfect knowl-
edge of what is good and evil.
What is striking in this text, is the way the author grounds its discourse in the
Genesis account by radically reconfiguring the tale and writing a new story in a
sapiential context. Ben Sira reimagines, on the basis of Gen 1–3, a new account
of human creation: a story which does not include the ambiguous chapter of
the transgression and its consequences, but which also lacks all the violent
episodes before the flood. At the core of this creation is the gift of knowledge
of good and evil, associated with that of the law. In this regard, for Ben Sira, the
knowledge of good and evil refers to ethical discernment regulated by the law.
For him, knowledge of good and evil is a likeness of wisdom, not forbidden, but
revealed and taught.

The Dead Sea Scrolls

As has been noticed by scholars,22 re-readings, interpretations, or simply echoes

or allusions to Gen 2–3 are scarcely present in the non-biblical c­ ompositions

22  See Florentino García Martínez, “Man and Woman: Halakhah Based upon Eden in the
Dead Sea Scrolls,” in Paradise Interpreted: Interpretations of Biblical Paradise in Judaism
and Christianity, ed. Gerard P. Luttikhuizen, TBN 2 (Leiden: Brill, 1999), 95–115, esp. 95–99;
482 Rey

in the Dead Sea Scrolls.23 Florentino García Martínez notes that “this absence
contrasts strongly with the abundance of materials we find in the Scrolls dedi-
cated to expanding or commenting on the stories of protagonists of other
Genesis narratives, such as Noah. Such an absence can hardly be accidental.”24
The tradition of the tree of knowledge and the tree of life is scarcely repre-
sented in the Dead Sea Scrolls. The syntagm “tree of knowledge” could be attest-
ed in a brief paraphrase of the Gen 1–3 in 4Q422 1 10, ‫הד[עת‬
̊ ‫]ל[ב]לתי אכול מעצ‬ ̊ ,25
and in a Hebrew fragment of Jub 4:30 in 11Q12 5 3.26 The tree of life is mentioned
twice: in a fragmentary context in 4Q385a 17a-e ii 3 (4QapocrJer Ca)27 and in the
plural in 1QHa 16:6–7, ‫עצי חיים‬, in a garden metaphor which combines different
scriptural allusions28 and which is very close to the tree metaphor of Sirach 24.
While the syntagm ‫ עץ הדעת‬is not attested as such in the preserved fragments,
the motif of knowledge of good and evil in connection with the second tale
of creation is clearly present. It mostly appears in fragmentary contexts. I will
focus on four cases that are sufficiently clear: 4Q303 (Meditation on Creation
A), 4QInstruction, 1QS 4:25–26 and 1QSa 1:10–11.

Eibert 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, 37–62, esp. 50–51.
23  Biblical manuscripts representing Genesis 2–3 are also extremely scarce, but probably by
accident; they mainly agree with the MT: 1Q1 2 (Gen 3:11–14); 4Q2 1 ii (Gen 2:14–19); 4Q7
(Gen 2:6–7 or 2:18–19); 4Q8 (Gen 2:17–18); 4Q10 4 (Gen 2:1–3); 4Q10 5 (Gen 3:1–2). Only two
variants with the MT are to be noted: ‫ האף‬in Gen 3:1 instead of ‫ אף‬in MT and ]‫ ער[ום‬in
Gen 3:11 agreeing with SP and numerous manuscripts registered by Benjamin Kennicott,
Vetus Testamentum hebraicum, cum variis lectionibus (Oxford: 1776), 5, against ‫ עירם‬in MT.
Kennicott also notes several manuscripts with the defective writing ‫ערם‬. On these is-
sues see George J. Brooke, “Genesis 1–11 in Light of Some Aspects of the Transmission of
Genesis in Late Second Temple Times,” HBAI 1 (2012): 465–82.
24  García Martínez, “Man and Woman,” 96.
25  See Torleif Elgvin, “422. 4QParaphrase of Genesis and Exodus,” in Qumran Cave 4.VIII:
Parabiblical Texts, Part 1, ed. Harold Attridge et al., DJD 13 (Oxford: Clarendon, 1994),
421–22.
26  See Florentino García Martínez, Eibert J.C. Tigchelaar, and Adam S. van der Woude, “12.
11QJubilees,” in Qumran Cave 11. II. 11Q2–18, 11Q20–31, DJD 23 (Oxford: Clarendon, 1998),
213–14 .
27  This reading is made dubious by the scribal correction of the first letter (and perhaps
the second). Devorah Dimant reads ‫עץ‬, while John Strugnell finds ‫( בגן החיים‬followed
by Tigchelaar, “Eden and Paradise,” 48 note 25). See the discussion in Devorah Dimant,
Qumran Cave 4.XXI: Parabiblical Texts, Part 4: Pseudo-Prophetic Texts, DJD 30 (Oxford:
Clarendon, 2001), 155–56.
28  See Julie A. Hughes, Scriptural Allusions and Exegesis in the Hodayot, STDJ 59 (Leiden:
Brill, 2006), 150–59.
In the Garden of Good and Evil 483

4Q303 (Meditation on Creation A)

The first example comes from the fragment of 4Q303 (Meditation on Creation
A), published by Timothy Lim in 1997:29

‬[◦‫]מבינים שמעו ו‬ 1 ]Understanding ones, listen and [

‬[ ̇‫‬ ] ̇מים השביתו מעל נ‬2 ] . . . desist from . . .[
‬‫אספרה נפלאות אל אש[ר‬ ̊ ] 3 ] I will tell the marvels of God wh[ich . . .
‬‫ ]ל̇אור עולם ושמי טוה[ר‬4 ] for everlasting light and heavens of
brillian[ce30
‬‫ ] ֿר במקום תהו{ו} וב[הו‬ 5 ] . . . in the place of voidness and emp[tiness
‬[‫ ]כולמעשיהם עד ק͏ ̊צ‬ 6 ] all their works until the end[
‬[‫ ]ר בם מלך לכולם‬ 7 ] . . . among them a king for all of them[
‬[‫ ] ֿר ושכל טוב ורע ל‬ 8 ] . . . and insight of good and evil to [
‬[‫כיא‬
̊ ‫ ]לוקח ממנה אדם‬ 9 ]A man takes from it, because [
‬‫ ]ו̊ עשה לו עזר כנ̊ ̊ג ̊ד[ו‬ 10 ]and he made for him a helper fit for [him
‫ת‬
‬ ‫ ]לו לאשה כיא ממנו[ לקחה זא‬ 11 ]to him for a wife, because from him[ she
was taken
‬‬[ ‬vacat ‫]חה‬ ‬ 12 ] . . . vacat [
‬[‫לפיד‬
̇ ‫ ]ל‬ 13 ] . . . lightning[
‬[‫מל‬̊ ] 14 ] . . .[

29  Timothy Lim and al., Qumran Cave 4.XV: Sapiential Texts, Part 1, DJD 20 (Oxford: Clarendon,
1997), 151–53. This first edition must be corrected in several places. In line 1, the last trace
corresponds to a vertical leg. In line 2, read ‫ השביתו‬as already suggested by Tigchelaar,
“Eden and Paradise,” 51. In line 3, the first traces of letters have to be read without doubt
as ‫( אספרה‬see photo B-295764; for the wording, see Ps 9:2; 1QHa 18:16–17, 22–23; 4Q511
63–64 ii 2). In line 5, the first letter could be a resh as suggested by Lim, who restores ‫או]ר‬,
but it could also be a dalet, ‫ועמ]ד‬. At the end of line 5, Lim reads ‫תהווב[הו‬, but the two
words are not connected, a vav has been erased between them. In line 6, read ‫קצ‬ ̊ as al-
ready suggested by Qimron. The trace of the tick of the right arm and of the right angle
indicates a medial tṣade, which may suggest such readings as ‫ קצ[י‬,‫קצ[ה‬, or [‫קצ‬, singular,
assuming that a medial tṣade was used instead of a final one. In line 10, traces of letters on
the break of the fragment possibly correspond to nun, gimel, and dalet. In line 13, at the
end of the line, read a dalet for ‫לפיד‬, “torch, lightning,” or ‫פיד‬, “disaster, misfortune” (as in
Job 12:5). In line 14 read first a mem (and not a lamed) and then perhaps a lamed. For other
studies see James Kugel, “Some Instances of Biblical Interpretation in the Hymns and
Wisdom Writings of Qumran,” in Studies in Ancient Midrash, ed. Kugel, 155–69; Tigchelaar,
“Eden and Paradise,” 51–52.
30  Translation “heavens of brilliance” is from Kugel “Hymns and Wisdom,” 162.
 484 Rey

Although its fragmentary state does not permit us to reconstruct the text in
detail, we can, however, examine the organization of its elements which seem
close to Sir 16:24–17:14. The invitation to listen in line 1 (‫)שמעו‬, followed by a
verb in the first person at the beginning of line 3 (‫ )אספרה‬recalls the sapiential
introduction of Sir 16:24–25—by chance preserved in Hebrew at the end of
ms. A—and allows us to place this fragment as a sapiential discourse related
to the creation tale:

24 Listen to me and grasp my instruction

‫שמעו אלי וקחו ̇ש ̇כלי‬ Imperative 3rd pers. plur.
‫ועל דברי שימו לב׃‬And set your heart upon my words. Imperative 3rd pers. plur.
‫אביעה במשקל רוחי‬ 25 I will pour out my spirit by measure, Yiqtol 1st pers. sing.
‫ובהצנע אחוה דעי‬And in humility I will relate my
knowledge.
‫ כברא אל מעשיו מראש‬26 When God created his works from Creation’s tale
the beginning,
] [ ‫ על חייהם‬On their lives [ ]

Like Sir 17, this fragment abounds with allusions to Genesis 1–3. The “eternal
light” in line 4, also attested in Isa 60:19, 20 as well as several times in the Dead
Sea Scrolls, often in an eschatological perspective (1QS 4:8; 1QM 17:6; 1QHa 20:15;
4Q418 69 ii 14), would refer here to the creation of light in Gen 1:3, distinguish-
ing this light from the lights of the fourth day by qualifying it as “eternal.”31 The
expression “heavens of brilliance” which is related here to the heavens created
on the second day, alludes to the theophany of Exod 24:10, where Moses and
Aaron “saw the God of Israel.”32 The biblical hapax ‫תהו וב[הו‬, in line 5, leaves
no doubt about the allusion to Gen 1:2. In line 6, the sentence fragment ‫כל‬
‫ מעשיהם עד קצ‬is similar formally to the Syriac translation of Sir 16:27 (‫ܘܝܗܒ‬
‫ܥܒܕܝܗܘܢ‬ ̈ ‫ܥܕܡܐ ܠܚܪܬܐ‬, “And he assigned [them] their works till the end”)
and could reflect a relationship between these texts.33 In Sir 16:27, the word
‫ מעשה‬refers to celestial bodies, which could also be the case here.34 In line 7

31  See Kugel, “Hymns and Wisdom,” 163.

32  The same expression is also attested in an unidentified fragment of 4Q262 (4QSh) B 5 (see
Philip Alexander and Geza Vermes, Qumran Cave 4.XIX: Serekh Ha-Yaḥad and Two Related
Texts, DJD 26 (Oxford: Clarendon, 1998], 193–95).
33  The manuscripts of the Greek translation are not unanimous. The Sinaiticus (and the
Vetus Latina) preserve the plural pronoun, as do the Syriac and 4Q303 (and so reads
Joseph Ziegler), while all the other witnesses attest the singular: ἐκόσμησεν εἰς αἰῶνα τὰ
ἔργα αὐτοῦ, “He put in order his tasks forever.”
34  Kugel interprets this word in a broader meaning: “things created, or even ‘creatures’ ”
(“Hymns and Wisdom,” 163).
In the Garden of Good and Evil 485

the ­expression ‫ מלך לכולם‬is more enigmatic and could refer either to the lights
of the fourth day that “rule over the day and over the night” (‫;ולמשל ביום ובלילה‬
in that case ‫ מלך‬in 4Q303 would be synonymous with ‫)משל‬, or to the motif of
human domination over all creatures (Gen 1:26, 28) as in Sirach 17.35
In line 8, the sentence ‫ ושכל טוב ורע‬refers to Gen 2:9, 17. While the verb ‫שכל‬
does not appear in these two verses, it could easily be rooted in Gen 3:6 by the
confluence of two allusions, as Ben Sira does. As already noticed by Kugel,36
this sentence is the same as Ben Sira’s reference to God’s showing/teaching
good and evil to men. While the text is fragmentary, it seems clear that knowl-
edge of good and evil is not forbidden but is a gift of God to humanity.
The following line, ‫כיא‬ ̊ ‫לוקח ממנה אדם‬, has been interpreted by Tigchelaar
as a paraphrase of Gen 2:17: “where Adam is told not to eat from the Tree of
Knowledge of good and evil.”37 But the syntax is ambiguous and the feminine
suffix in ‫ממנה‬, “from it,” does not correspond to ‫עץ‬, “tree,” or ‫“ פרי‬fruit,” which
are masculine. This sentence is more probably an allusion to Gen 3:19, referring
to the ground, ‫ ִּכי ִמ ֶּמּנָ ה ֻל ָּק ְח ָת‬, “for out of it you were taken.”38 All the elements of
Gen 3:19 are represented: the same rare passive of the qal of ‫ לקח‬and the same
pronominal feminine suffix with ‫מן‬. In this case the line would not allude to
prohibiting eating the fruit of the tree, but to the earthly origin of humanity
and its mortal nature. If this interpretation is correct, then, not only does the
text present knowledge of good and evil as a divine gift, as does Ben Sira, but it
also seems to ignore the story of the transgression and the mortality of humans
as its consequences.
Finally, lines 10 and 11 clearly allude to the creation of woman. Line 10 intro-
duces the motif of helpmate, rewriting the first-person discourse of Gen 2:18
(‫אעשה לו עזר כנגדו‬, “I will make him a help corresponding to him”) as a descrip-
tion in the third-person. Similarly, line 10 rewrites the discourse of Adam in
Gen 2:23b (‫לזאת יקרא אשה כי מאיש לקחה זאת‬, “this one shall be called woman,
because she was taken out of man”) by changing the name-giving motif to a
marital one (‫)לו לאשה‬39 linked to the origin of woman taken out of man ([‫ממנו‬
‫)לקחה זאת‬.

35  So Kugel, “Hymns and Wisdom,” 163, who refers to Ps 8:7.
36  Kugel, “Hymns and Wisdom,” 165.
37  Tigchelaar, “Eden and Paradise,” 52.
38  The end of the line could have been something like ‫כיא[ עפר הוא ואל עפר ישוב‬
̊ .
39  We should probably restore ‫והיתה ]לו לאשה‬/‫ להיות‬in the lacuna.
486 Rey

4QInstruction

The most significant example is certainly 4QInstruction where the idea of

“knowledge of good and evil” is present three times: in 4Q416 1 15 (//4Q418 2a-c
7), in the difficult fragment of 4Q417 1 i 8, 18 and in 4Q423 2 i 7.
In 4Q416 1 15, the sentence ‫ צד(י)ק בין טוב לרע‬40 ‫ להבין‬appears in a fragmen-
tary context, after a description of the eschatological judgment. The two extant
copies of the text differ. 4Q416 1 15 reads ‫צדק‬, while 4Q418 2a-c 7 gives ‫צדיק‬,
implying different understandings: “to understand/to distinguish what is right
between good and evil” for the former and, for the latter, “for the righteous
to distinguish/to understand between good and evil” or “for him (i.e. God) to
make the righteous understand . . .” or “to instruct the righteous on the differ-
ence between good and evil” (see 1QS 3:13).41 In any case, discernment between
good and evil is closely linked to the idea of justice. The fragmentary context
does not permit drawing firm conclusions concerning the interpretation of the
sentence, but the eschatological context that precedes would imply an ethical
distinction linked to the eschatological distinction between “faithful children”
(l. 10) and the “spirit of flesh” (l. 12). Another point that should be noted is the
rephrasing of the Genesis sentence. The construction . . . ‫ ל‬. . . ‫  ֵּבין‬brings to verbs
of knowledge like ‫ בין‬and ‫ ידע‬the connotation of “distinguishing,” “discerning.”42
This syntactic construction could be understood as a rephrasing of Genesis
2–3, or more probably as an allusion to Solomon’s prayer in 1 Kgs 3:9 (‫ונתת‬
‫)לעבדך לב שמע לשפט את־עמך להבין בין־טוב לרע‬.43 This kind of formulation
is certainly determined by a linguistic evolution44 but it also eliminates any

40  The editors read ‫ להכון‬in 4Q416 1 15, while the reading ‫ להבין‬in agreement with 4Q418 is
not excluded.
41  See DJD 34:87–88.
42  See BDB, ‫בין‬, §1d.
43  See also 2 Sam 19:36: “Today I am eighty years old; can I discern between good and evil?
(‫ ;”)האדע בין טוב לרע‬Ezek 44:23 (‫ ;)יורו בין קדש לחל‬Mal 3:18 (‫ )וראיתם בין צדיק לרשע‬//
4Q253 1 i 4; Jon 4:11.
44  The construction . . . ‫ ל‬. . . ‫ בין‬is attributed to Late Biblical Hebrew (in contradistinction
to the construction . . . ‫ ובין‬. . . ‫)בין‬. See Avi Hurvitz, A Linguistic Study of the Relationship
between the Priestly Source and the Book of Ezekiel: A New Approach to an Old Problem,
Cahiers de la Revue Biblique 20 (Paris: Gabalda, 1982), 113–15; Richard M. Wright, Linguistic
Evidence for the Pre-Exilic Date of the Yahwistic Source, LHBOTS 419 (London: T&T Clark,
2005), 45–48. For a similar construction in the Dead Sea Scrolls with this meaning of
moral discernment, see CD 6:17//CD 12:20//4Q266 3 ii 23 (‫[ ולהודיע בין הקודש לחול‬see
Ezek 44:23]); 4Q300 3 2 (‫בעבור ידעו בין ט[וב ובין רע‬, according to Lawrence Schiffman’s
In the Garden of Good and Evil 487

ambiguity regarding the expression which now clearly refers to the capacity
for moral discernment.
In 4Q417 1 i the expression occurs twice. The first time, knowledge of good
and evil is not connected to revelation, as in Ben Sira, but to meditation of the
raz niheyeh:

‫נ]הי֯ ֯ה {ו̊ }דורש ̇תמי̇ ̊ד ו̊ אז ̊ת ̇ד ̇ע אמת ועול חכמה‬

֯ ‫[יומם ̇ולילה הגה ברז‬ 6
‫לכו̇ ל קצי עולם‬
̇ ‫פקו֯ ֯ד ֯ת ̇ם‬
֯ ‫]בכול ֯ד ֯רכיהם ֯ע ֯ם‬ ̊ ‫[]ת[ ] ◦◦◦ ̊מ ̊ע ̊ש[יהם‬ ̊ ‫[ואול]ת‬
̊ 7
‫ופקודת‬
‫כ]מ ̇ע ̇שי̊ [הם‬
̊ ‫תדע ̊בי̊ ן̊ [טו]ב ̊ל ̊ר[ע‬
̇ ‫עד ואז‬ 8

[And by day and night meditate upon the mystery that is to] come, and
study (it)45 continually. And then you shall know truth and iniquity, wis-
dom [and foolish]ness you shall [recognize their], deed[s ]in all their ways,
together with their punishment(s) in all everlasting ages, and the punish-
ment of eternity. And then you shall discern between the [goo]d and [evil
according to their] deeds.

This meditation of the raz niheyeh accords humans’ knowledge on various lev-
els, but for our topic, the distinction between good and evil is clearly connect-
ed to the capacity for discernment: the disciple will know how to distinguish
between truth and iniquity (l. 6), between wisdom and foolishness (ll. 6–7),
and finally between good and evil (l. 8).
In this passage, the mention of knowledge of “good and evil” is not directly
connected to the story of Genesis 2–3. Nevertheless, we have to notice, first,
that the syntactic structure of the sentence (‫ )בין [טו]ב לר[ע‬and the use of the
verb ‫ ידע‬could be the result of a conflation of two biblical texts, 1 Kgs 3:9 (‫להבין‬
‫ )בין־טוב לרע‬and Gen 2:9ff (‫)הדעת טוב ורע‬. This association of God’s interdiction
in Genesis 2 and Solomon’s prayer of 1 Kgs 3:9 would involve understanding the
expression in Gen 2:9 as referring to moral judgment. Second, the connection
of knowledge of good and evil with the Genesis account is made explicit by
the second occurrence of the expression in this text in connection with man
fashioned in the “pattern of the Holy Ones” (ll. 17–18; cf. Gen 1:27 and Gen 2:9):

reconstruction in DJD 20:105, though a reconstruction ‫ ידעו בין ט[וב לרע‬is also possi-
ble); 4Q370 1 ii 4 (‫רעתם בדעתם בי[ן טוב לרע‬, according to Carol Newsom’s restoration
in DJD 19:96]; 4Q508 1 1//1Q34bis 3 i 4–5 (‫ ;)לדע]ת בין צדיק לרשע‬4Q367 3 10 // Lev 27:33;
4Q521 14 2.
45  ‫ דורש‬is certainly a metathesis for ‫( דרוש‬see DJD 34:157).
488 Rey

‫̊כ]י[ ̇א‬ 1 6
‫כתבנית קדושים יצרו ועוד לוא נ̊ תן החזו[ן] לרוח ̇ב ̊שר כי לא ידע בין‬ 17
vacat ‫לרע כמשפט[ ר]וחו‬ ̇ ‫ [טו] ̇ב‬ 18

F[o]r according to the pattern of the holy ones is his (man’s) fashioning.
But no more has vision been given to a fleshly spirit, for it did not know
the difference between [good] and evil according to the judgment of its
[sp]irit.

These three lines are particularly difficult and have recently received a lot of
scholarly attention. It is unnecessary to enter here into the details. Adopting
an analysis provided by John Collins,46 Matthew Goff47 considers that this text
distinguishes two types of humanity: one—the “spiritual peopleˮ—created in
the image of the angels (‫כתבנית קדושים יצרו‬, l. 17), in reference to Gen 1:27, the
first creation tale,48 and another—the “fleshly spiritˮ—that does not discern
between “good and evil,” in reference to Gen 2:9, the second creation tale.49
Furthermore, belief in this twofold humanity is documented in the distinction
made by Philo between man created in the image of God in Gen 1:27—intel-
lectual, incorporeal, neither male nor female and immortal by nature—and
man created from the earth in Gen 2:7 with a body and a soul, either man or
woman and mortal by nature.50 Elsewhere I have suggested that the structure

46  John J. Collins, “In the Likeness of the Holy Ones: The Creation of Humankind in a
Wisdom Text from Qumran,” in The Provo International Conference on the Dead Sea Scrolls:
Technological Innovations, New Texts, and Reformulated Issues, ed. Donald W. Parry and
Eugene C. Ulrich, STDJ 30 (Leiden: Brill, 1999), 609–19.
47  Matthew J. Goff, The Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom of 4QInstruction, STDJ 50 (Leiden:
Brill, 2003); Goff, “Adam, the Angels and Eternal Life: Genesis 1–3 in the Wisdom of
Solomon and 4QInstruction,” in Studies in the Book of Wisdom, ed. Géza G. Xeravits and
József Zsengellér, JSJSup 142 (Leiden: Brill, 2010), 1–22, 4.
48  ‫ כתבנית קדושים‬is a paraphrase of Gen 1:27, where ‫ קדושים‬is used in place of ‫ אלהים‬to
avoid any idea of anthropomorphism, and where ‫תבנית‬, which could also allude to the
pattern of the tabernacle or of the temple, is used in place of ‫צלם‬.
49  Goff suggests that “fleshly spirit” perhaps paraphrases ‫ נפש חיה‬from Gen 2:7. See Goff,
The Worldly and Heavenly Wisdom, 98–99.
50  Creation 134: “After this he says that God moulded the human being, taking clay from
the earth, and he inbreathed onto his face the breath of life. By means of this text too
he shows us in the clearest fashion that there is a vast difference between the human
being who has been moulded now and the one who previously came into being after the
image of God For the human being who has been moulded as sense-perceptible object
already participates in quality, consists of body and soul, is either man or woman, and
is by nature mortal. The human being after the image is a kind of idea or genus or seal,
In the Garden of Good and Evil 489

of the text suggests that the distinction between the “spiritual people” and the
“fleshly spirit” is rooted in an ethical distinction between those who discern
between good and evil and those who do not.51 This distinction transforms the
question of an ontological division of humanity rooted in a double creation
into an ethical distinction between those who have acquired the discernment
between good and evil by meditating on the raz niheyeh and those who have
not. This interpretation of the Genesis account should be compared with Ben
Sira’s understanding of this same text. Ben Sira does not distinguish two tales
of creation, the man created in the image of God is also the man who received
the revelation of “good and evil,” wisdom, and the law. In 4QInstruction, knowl-
edge of good and evil is neither the object of an interdiction as in Genesis, nor
a gift as in Ben Sira, but the fruit that man has to acquire by the meditation on
the raz niheyeh. Of course the raz niheyeh is itself revealed, but this revelation
requires the effort of meditation night and day, like the meditation on the Law.

1QS 4:25–26

These examples taken from 4QInstruction should certainly be compared to

the conclusion of the instruction on the two Spirits in 1QS 4:25–26, where
knowledge of good and evil is presented as the purpose of the repartition of
two spirits in men.

‫יתעב אמת כיא בד בבד שמן אל עד קצ נחרצה ועשות חדשה והואה ידע‬ ‬25
‬‫פעולת מעשיהן לכול קצי‬
‫[עולמי]ם וינחילן לבני איש לדעת טוב [ורע כי א]ל יפיל גורלות לכול חי לפי‬ 26
‬‫]הפקודה‬̊ ‫רוחו בו̊ [ עד מועד‬

For God has sorted them (i.e. the two Spirits) into equal parts until the
appointed end and the new creation. He knows the result of their deeds
for all times [everlas]ting and has given them (i.e. the Spirits) as a legacy
to the sons of man so that they know good [and evil because G]od casts

is perceived by the intellect, incorporeal, neither male nor female, and is immortal by
nature.” Translation by David T. Runia, On the Creation of the Cosmos According to Moses
(Atlanta: SBL; Leiden: Brill, 2001), 82.
51  For a summary of the debate, see Benjamin Wold, “The Universality of Creation in
4QInstruction,” RevQ 26 (2013): 211–26.
490 Rey

the lots of every living being according to his own spirit [until the time
of] the visitation.52

In this passage, knowledge of good and evil is presented as the finality of

the inheritance of two spirits placed in equal parts (‫ )בד בבד‬within humans. The
allusion to the Genesis account is made clear, not only because the syntax is
exactly the same, but also because it echoes, as an inclusio, the allusion to cre-
ation in the introduction of the instruction in 1QS 3:17–18: “He created man to
rule the world (‫ )והואה ברא אנוש לממשלת תבל‬and placed within him two spirits
so that he would walk with them until the moment of his visitation.” The as-
sociation of the motif of inheritance with that of knowledge of good and evil
also made clear that this knowledge is a gift and not the fruit of usurpation.
And, finally, as in Ben Sira and elsewhere in the Dead Sea Scrolls, this expres-
sion refers to ethical discernment.

1QSa 1:10–11 (//4Qcrypt A)

The last example I shall evoke is 1QSa 1:10–11. It appears in a legislative context
concerning the education of young people joining the congregation:53

‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬]‫נעו[ריו‬ ̊ ‫ ‬וזה הסרך לכול צבאות העדה לכול האזרח בישראל ומן‬vac
6
‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬]‫ ‬[יל]מדהו בספר ההגי וכפי יומיו ישכיליהו בחוקי הברית ול[פי שכלו‬ 7
‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬]‫ ‬[מו]סרו במשפטיהמה עשר שנים[ י]בוא בטפ וב[ן] עשרים שנ[ה יעבור‬ 8
‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬]‫‬ [על ]הפקודים לבוא בגורל בתוך משפ[ח]תו ליחד בעד[ת] קודש ולוא י̊ [קרב‬ 9
‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬]‫‬ אל אשה לדעתה למשכבי זכר כי אם לפי מולואת לו עש[רי] ̊ם שנה בדעתו[ טוב‬10
‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‬‫ ‬ורע‬
11

52  For the restoration of line 26, see Émile Puech, La croyance des esséniens en la vie future:
immortalité, résurrection, vie éternelle? Histoire d’une croyance dans le judaïsme ancien: II.
Les données qumraniennes et classiques, Études bibliques NS 22 (Paris: Gabalda, 1993), 430.
53  Our text follows Elisha Qimron, The Dead Sea Scrolls. The Hebrew Writings (Jerusalem:
Yad Ben-Zvi, 2010), 1:235 that differs slightly from the editio princeps by Dominique
Barthélemy in Qumran Cave I, ed. Dominique Barthélemy and Józef T. Milik, DJD I
(Oxford: Clarendon, 1955), 109–13. This passage is partially preserved in 4QCryptA. See
Stephen J. Pfann, “Cryptic Texts,” in Qumran Cave 4.XXVI: Cryptic Texts and Miscellanea,
Part 1, ed. Stephen J. Pfann et al., DJD 36 (Oxford: Clarendon, 2000), 515–702, and a re-
cent new reconstruction of the first column by Asaf Gayer, Daniel Stökl Ben Ezra, and
Jonathan Ben-Dov, “A New Join of Two Fragments of 4QcryptA Serekh haEdah and Its
Implications,” DSD 23 (2016): 139–54.
In the Garden of Good and Evil 491

And this is the rule for all the armies of the congregation, for all native
Israelites. From [his] yo[uth] [they shall edu]cate him in the book of
hagy, and according to his age, instruct him in the precept[s of] the cov-
enant, and he will [receive] his [ins]truction in their regulations; during
ten years he will be counted among the children. At the a[ge] of twen-
ty ye[ars, he will transfer] [to] those enrolled, to enter the lot amongst
his fam[il]y and join the holy commun[ity]. He shall not [approach] a
woman to know her through carnal intercourse until he is fully twe[nt]y
years old, when he knows [good] and evil (‫)בדעתו[ טוב] ‬ורע‬.

In this passage, the expression “to know good and evil,” which is syntacti-
cally quite similar to Gen 2:9ff, has been differently interpreted by scholars.
Dominique Barthélemy understands it as “the age of reason,” “the maturity of
moral judgment.”54 On the other hand, Robert Gordis argues that this passage
constitutes an argument for the interpretation of the expression as denoting
sexual consciousness.55 Of course, the proximity with the question of carnal
intercourse, could suggest such an interpretation, but Gordis’s hypothesis cre-
ates various problems. First, the numerous appearances of the expression in
the Hebrew Bible evoked by Gordis are, at best, inconclusive;56 second, the
other examples examined in Hebrew from the Hellenistic period clearly point
to the meaning of moral discernment; third, the wider context of the expres-
sion invites us to interpret it in the sense of moral discernment. During ten
years a young man had to be educated in the “book of meditation” (‫ספר ההגי‬,
cf. for the same context 4Q417 1 i supra), to be instructed in “the precept of the
covenant,” and to receive “instruction in their regulations.” At the end of this
educational process he “knows good and evil” and will have sufficient maturity

54  Barthélemy, DJD 1:113; for a similar interpretation see George W. Buchanan, “The Old
Testament Meaning of the Knowledge of Good and Evil,” JBL 75 (1956): 114–20. For him the
phase describes “maturity, an age when one has enough experience and has gained suffi-
cient knowledge to make important decision”; similarly, Herold S. Stern, “The Knowledge
of Good and Evil,” VT 8 (1958): 405–18 argues that the phrase points to “the age of mature
responsibility at which a person entered into the life of the community.”
55  Robert Gordis, “The Knowledge of Good and Evil in the Old Testament and the Qumran
Scrolls,” JBL 76 (1957), 123–38. See also William Loader, “Issues of Sexuality in 1QSa and
4QPap cryptA Serekh ha-‘Edah (4Q249d, e),” in Qumran Cave 1 Revisited: Texts from Cave 1
Sixty Years after Their Discovery: Proceedings of the Sixth Meeting of the IOQS in Ljubljana,
ed. Daniel K. Falk et al., STDJ 91 (Leiden: Brill, 2010), 91–98. Loader refers only to Gordis’s
arguments without discussing them.
56  Gordis bases his argumentation on the attestations in the Genesis account, Deut 1:39 and
2 Sam 19:36.
492 Rey

for marriage. The context describes a process of maturation from age ten to
twenty, thirty, and older. For ten years, young people are counted among the
children, and at the age of twenty they join the community. Finally, (1) knowl-
edge of good and evil is not a question of revelation but of education; (2) the
expression rooted in the narrative of creation is now integrated in a context of
rules; (3) the capacity to discern between good and evil acquired by education
is the sign of intellectual maturity.

Conclusion

In conclusion, although the Eden story does not receive much consideration in
the Dead Sea Scrolls, that is not the case for certain parts of this account. The
motif of knowledge of good and evil is well represented in ancient Jewish lit-
erature, but what initially was a narrative motif is reimagined in a totally new
literary context: instructions, revelations, liturgical or legal texts.
In the Genesis account, knowledge of good and evil could easily be under-
stood as a prohibition and its acquisition as usurpation. The texts analyzed
clearly follow a divergent understanding. Knowledge of good and evil is no lon-
ger seen as prohibited but, on the contrary, is the result of a revelation in Ben
Sira and 1QS, the fruit of the meditation of the raz niheyeh in 4QInstruction,
the result of education into the precepts and regulations in 1QSa. In these texts,
it seems to be unanimously understood as an ethical discernment, connected
with wisdom, especially in Ben Sira where wisdom, knowledge, revelation and
Eden are closely related. This knowledge of good and evil is also associated
with the Law, its instruction and its meditation.
Most of these texts ignore completely the story of the transgression
and therefore the prohibition of eating of the tree of knowledge of good and
evil, the possible relationship between transgression and death or between
knowledge of good and evil and death, human violence and the idea of domi-
nation, etc. The omission of the story of transgression and human violence in
these texts can hardly be explained as accidental and is certainly related to a
re-evaluation of the question of the origin of evil in the world.
Our corpus, and in particular Ben Sira, 4Q303, 4QInstruction, and 4Q504 are
not simple imitations of the Genesis account nor a collection of quotations or
allusions. These authors wrote a new story of the creation of humanity. This
story, of course, has its roots in the Genesis account but it is reimagined, giv-
ing the tradition new perspectives and new implications. Although the text of
Genesis has authoritative status for these authors, innovation and great free-
dom with the source text is a hallmark of their approach to the tradition.
How Should We Feel about the Teacher of
Righteousness?

Angela Kim Harkins

The first Scrolls published from Cave 1 included a number of enigmatic refer-
ences to a figure known as the “Teacher of Righteousness” (TofR).1 Now that
the complete archive of the Qumran texts has been published, it has become
well known that the majority of the evidence for the TofR comes from surpris-
ingly few texts, thus raising serious questions about the ability to recover the
historical person behind this moniker.2 This paper offers a status quaestionis
on the TofR, an evaluation of these scholarly views, and a proposal for how in-
tegrative approaches can assist in the re-imagination of one of the classic texts
that has informed scholarly thinking about this figure, the Pesher Habakkuk.
This essay has been stimulated by Professor Brooke’s many years of thoughtful
work on this subject.3

1  This essay is dedicated to Professor George Brooke, a teacher of many who is rightly de-
serving of this Festschrift. Some of the research that appears here is the result of the Marie
Curie International Incoming Fellowship that I held at the University of Birmingham, and I
gratefully acknowledge the generous funding received from the European Union’s Seventh
Framework Programme under the grant agreement number 627536 RelExDss FP7-PEOPLE-
2013- IFF, and the wisdom of my host, Professor Charlotte Hempel. I wish to offer this essay
to Professor Brooke as a token of my gratitude for his generosity as a teacher and scholar.
2  Loren T. Stuckenbruck, “The Teacher of Righteousness Remembered: From Fragmentary
Sources to Collective Memory in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in Memory in the Bible and Antiquity:
The Fifth Durham-Tübingen Research Symposium (Durham, September 2004), ed. Stephen C.
Barton et al., WUNT 212 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2007), 75–94. See also Reinhard Kratz’s
contribution to this volume.
3  George J. Brooke, “Brian as the Teacher of Righteousness,” in Jesus and Brian: Exploring the
Historical Jesus and His Time via Monty Python’s Life of Brian, ed. Joan E. Taylor (London:
Bloomsbury, 2015), 127–40; Brooke, “Was the Teacher of Righteousness Considered to be
a Prophet?” in Prophecy after the Prophets? The Contribution of the Dead Sea Scrolls to the
Understanding of Biblical and Extra-Biblical Prophecy, ed. Kristin de Troyer and Armin
Lange (Leuven: Peeters, 2009), 77–97; Brooke, “The ‘Apocalyptic’ Community, the Matrix
of the Teacher and Rewriting Scripture,” in Authoritative Scriptures in Ancient Judaism, ed.
Mladen Popović (Leiden: Brill, 2010), 37–53; Brooke, “Crisis Without, Crisis Within: Changes
and Developments within the Dead Sea Scrolls Movement,” in Judaism and Crisis: Crisis
as a Catalyst in Jewish Cultural History, ed. Armin Lange et al. (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck &
Ruprecht, 2011), 89–107.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ���7 | doi ��.��63/9789004344532_028

494 Harkins

Since the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls, the enigmatic figure known as
the Teacher of Righteousness has captivated both scholarly and popular imagi-
nations. For much of the twentieth century, scholarly understandings of the
Teacher were built upon early theories that were themselves based on a lim-
ited range of texts that had been hastily published soon after the original dis-
coveries. On the basis of this partial evidence, scholars created a portrait of the
Teacher as a religious and political figure who established the community of
the DSS in the face of fierce opposition. Many scholars have sought to identify
this individual by name.
At present it is clear that the abundance of Scrolls have not corroborated the
centrality of the Teacher of Righteousness.
The overwhelming evidence of over nine hundred and fifty manuscripts of the
Dead Sea Scrolls has not produced more concrete details about the figure known
as the Teacher of Righteousness. While the Cave 4 material has certainly contrib-
uted to our understanding of this figure, the fullest evidence about him remains
that from Cave 1 and the Damascus Document. Cave 4 was the most plentiful
deposit of scrolls, but these manuscripts were the most difficult to edit given
their fragmentary state. Especially important in this regard have been the Cave 4
manuscripts of pesharim and the Hodayot, the discovery of the new text known
as 4QMMT, and the manuscripts of the Serekh ha-Yaḥad and the Damascus
Document, the latter of which have contributed significantly to our understand-
ings of the complexity of the Qumran Community and related groups.
This paper discusses how the scholarly analysis of ancient texts has moved
away from historical origins toward an interest in recovering how these writ-
ings were experienced by living communities. This shift in attitude from an
optimism to a pessimism towards traditional historical-critical approaches
bears resemblance to the reorientations that have taken place in the social
sciences and anthropology away from the study of larger institutional models
toward alternative phenomenological models for understanding human expe-
riences, including the inquiry into subjective experiences.4 New approaches
in religious studies that use an integrative understanding of the embodied
mind (e.g., cognitive study of religion, emotion studies, performance stud-
ies) can help us to imagine experiential aspects of these texts that are not
addressed by historical criticism. The figure of the Teacher of Righteousness
will serve as a test case for illustrating how these changes can be observed
since the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls in 1947, with a special focus on

4  Robert Desjarlais and C. Jason Throop, “Phenomenological Approaches in Anthropology,”

Annual Review of Anthropology 40 (2011): 87–102; also Stephen S. Bush, “Are Religious
Experiences too Private to Study?” Journal of Religion 92 (2012): 199–223.
How Should We Feel about the Teacher of Righteousness ? 495

the scholarship of the last thirty years, and it asks the question: how should we
feel about these changing understandings of the Teacher of Righteousness?

A Brief Review of the Evidence about the Teacher of Righteousness

The texts that were crucial for the early portrait of the Teacher were those from
Cave 1: the Habakkuk Commentary known as 1QpHab, the Qumran Hodayot
known as 1QH, and the Damascus Document, medieval copies of which had
been discovered in the Cairo Geniza at the end of the nineteenth century.
While there are some interesting parallels to be found between the Damascus
Document and the Community Rule, it is significant that the texts thought to
be closer to the communities of the Scrolls, those known as the Community
Rule or the Serekh ha-Yaḥad, describe with detail the organization of the group
but make no mention of the Teacher of Righteousness.
Many of the early studies of the Teacher of Righteousness sought to recon-
struct the historical events surrounding this figure who was presumably the
founder of the community related to the Scrolls. The majority of early schol-
arship on the Teacher had as its aim a historical reconstruction of the leader
and the founding of the community. Research prior to the 1980s was based
largely on a limited number of texts from Cave 1 and the medieval Damascus
Document. While some further historical references can be gleaned from
various Cave 4 texts (4QpNah; 4QpPsa; 4QMMT etc.), only two texts have
provided the bulk of evidence about the Teacher: the Damascus Document
and the Pesher Habakkuk. Both of these texts have been used as evidence in
favor of a mid-second century dating for the Teacher, a chronology that has
been challenged. Theories about the identity and dating of the Teacher were
formulated primarily based on the various hypotheses about the rivals who
were mentioned alongside him. The Qumran Hodayot have often been cited as
evidence of the Teacher’s personal meditations, although this is a problematic
assertion.5
Largely based on the medieval evidence known to scholars nearly half a
century prior to the discovery of the Qumran Scrolls and the partial Scrolls
evidence from Cave 1, the Teacher of Righteousness was situated at approxi-
mately the mid-second century BCE. This dating was largely determined
based on certain details from the beginning of the Damascus Document

5  Angela Kim Harkins, “Who is the Teacher of the Teacher Hymns? Re-examining the Teacher
Hymns Hypothesis Fifty Years Later,” in A Teacher for All Generations: Essays in Honor of
James C. VanderKam, ed. Eric F. Mason et al. (Leiden: Brill, 2012), 1:449–67.
496 Harkins

(CD 1:3–11) which references a 390 year span of time from Nebuchadnezzar,
king of Babylon (587 BCE); with an “additional twenty years until God raised
up for them a Teacher of Righteousness.” The reference to 390 years is likely a
scriptural allusion to MT Ezek 4:4 in which the prophet is ordered to bear the
iniquity of the house of Israel whilst lying on his left side for 390 days (LXX
Ezek 4:4 has 190 days). According to these figures, the 390 year period would
bring one up to the date 197 BCE, with an additional 20 years of groping, one
reaches the mid-second century (177 BCE) for the dating for the Teacher of
Righteousness.
The overwhelming majority of research on the Teacher of Righteousness
from the earliest studies have sought to identify this figure within the orbit
of the mid-second century, with historical models relying upon the chronol-
ogy from CD and early archaeological assessments.6 However, chronological
systems familiar to modern scholars were not always consistent with what
ancient minds understood.7 Even when scholars argue for greater precision
based on alternative ancient calculations of time, the chronology preserved in
CD 1:3–11 should be understood as, ultimately, a symbolic referent.8

6  These early studies include Józef T. Milik, Ten Years of Discovery in the Wilderness of Judaea
(London: SCM, 1959), 44–98; Frank M. Cross, The Ancient Library of Qumran, 3rd ed. (Sheffield:
Sheffield Academic Press, 1995), 88–120; Geza Vermes, Les manuscrits du désert de Juda, 2nd
ed. (Paris: Desclée, 1954), 70–104; see also James C. VanderKam, “Identity and History of the
Community,” in The Dead Sea Scrolls After Fifty Years: A Comprehensive Assessment, ed. Peter
W. Flint and James C. VanderKam (Leiden: Brill, 1999), 2:501–31. For a summary discussion of
the dating of the TofR see John J. Collins, “The Time of the Teacher: An Old Debate Renewed,”
in Studies in the Hebrew Bible, Qumran, and the Septuagint Presented to Eugene Ulrich, ed.
Peter W. Flint, Emanuel Tov, and James C. VanderKam (Leiden: Brill, 2006), 212–29.
7  Antti Laato, “The Chronology in the Damascus Document of Qumran,” RevQ 15 (1992): 605–7
points out that this would result in a difference of approximately 26 or 27 years when read
in conjunction with the chronology from the third century BCE Jewish historian Demetrius.
So, instead of 197 BCE as the dating of the community, one would instead have a dating of
171 BCE, which would result in the teacher appearing twenty years later in the year 150 BCE or
thereabouts.
8  John J. Collins, Beyond the Qumran Community: The Sectarian Movement of the Dead Sea
Scrolls (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010), 92–94. The methodological complications that arise
from trying to extract historical information from the Damascus Document are described
well by Maxine L. Grossman, Reading for History in the Damascus Document, STDJ 45 (Leiden:
Brill, 2002).
How Should We Feel about the Teacher of Righteousness ? 497

Notable Shifts in the Last Seventy Years

Recently the established second century dating for the TofR has been vigorous-
ly challenged by new understandings of the archaeological site and new prac-
tices of reading the ancient texts. Jodi Magness’s examination of the Qumran
site posed a serious challenge to the long-standing view that the Qumran
settlement was established in the second century, arguing instead for a first
century dating of the site.9 This reexamination of the archaeological context
for the Scrolls has forced a reexamination of the second century theories about
the identification of the figures of the Teacher of Righteousness, the Wicked
Priest, and the founding of the Community from conflict. This has happened
simultaneously with shifts in the understanding of key Qumran texts, the
Pesharim and the Hodayot, which took place in the 1990s and 2000s.

Pesharim

Scholarly assessments about the pesharim, key texts for the understanding
of the TofR, have undergone significant change from optimism that was once
held about our ability to recover historical details, to an ever darker pessimism.
The most important contribution to revising scholarly understanding of the
pesharim has been made by Jutta Jokiranta.10
The Pesher Habakkuk is a scriptural commentary on the first two chapters
of the book of Habakkuk found from Cave 1. This scroll played a key role in
the identification of the Teacher and his contemporaries from the very begin-
ning. Considered to be the most important text for understanding the Teacher,
the Cave 1 Pesher Habakkuk presented the Teacher in the context of dramatic
rivalry with other figures who contended with him for authority. The long-
standing view has situated the Teacher in the mid-second century BCE, a date
that harmonizes the chronology presented in the CD, and relies upon the theo-
retical identification of the enemies who appear alongside him. Gert Jeremias

9  Jodi Magness, The Archaeology of Qumran and the Dead Sea Scrolls (Grand Rapids:
Eerdmans, 2002), 65, where she proposes a date in the first half of the first century BCE.
10  Jutta Jokiranta, “Qumran—The Prototypical Teacher in the Qumran Pesharim: A Social-
Identity Approach,” in Ancient Israel: The Old Testament in Its Social Context, ed. Philip F.
Esler (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2006), 254–63.
498 Harkins

begins his 1963 book by insisting that first it is necessary to identify the many
enemies who are described alongside the Teacher of Righteousness.11

Bevor die Frage nach der Person des Lehrers beantwortet werden kann,
muß zunächst versucht werden, seine Feinde näher zu bestimmen. Der
Weg geht also von außen nach innen. Erst wenn der Rahmen soweit als
möglich geklärt ist, kann die Person des Lehrers selbst in den Blickpunkt
treten.

Based largely on the Pesher Habakkuk, scholars presumed that the formation
of the community was the result of a dispute over the Jerusalem high priest or
some other conflict. While scholars such as Adam van der Woude theorized
that there were several Wicked Priests,12 others surmised that this figure was
none other than Jonathan, whose non-Zadokite status is thought to have made
him a controversial high priest.
The Teacher of Righteousness is described in relation to a foil who is referred
to by various names, including the Wicked Priest (‫)הכוהן הרשע‬. It is this title,
which Karl Elliger first proposed as a wordplay on the title, “the High Priest”
(‫)הכהן הראש‬, that led scholars to identify this Wicked Priest figure as Jonathan
(152–142 BCE).13 According to the Pesher Habakkuk, the Wicked Priest began
as an honorable leader but his position of power quickly corrupted his ways,
leading to a greed for earthly riches.

Its interpretation concerns the Wicked Priest who was called by the name
of Truth at the beginning of his service, but when he ruled in Israel, his
heart was haughty and he forsook God, and he handed over statutes for
riches. He robbed and he amassed the wealth of violent men who had re-
belled against God; and the wealth of peoples he took, thus he increased
for himself iniquity of guilt and the ways of abomination he performed
with every impurity that defiles. (1QpHab 8:8–13)

11  Gert Jeremias, Der Lehrer der Gerechtigkeit, SUNT 2 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht,
1963), 9.
12  Adam S. van der Woude, “Wicked Priest or Wicked Priests? Reflections on the Identification
of the Wicked Priest in the Habakkuk Commentary,” JJS 33 (1982): 349–59. Florentino
García Martínez, “Qumran Origins and Early History: A Groningen Hypothesis,” Folia
Orientalia 25 (1988): 113–36; also Timothy H. Lim, “The Wicked Priests of the Groningen
Hypothesis,” JBL 112 (1993): 415–25.
13  Karl Elliger, Studien zum Habakkuk-Kommentar vom Toten Meer (Tübingen: Mohr
Siebeck, 1953), 198.
How Should We Feel about the Teacher of Righteousness ? 499

The historical figure known as Jonathan from the mid-second century BCE
(152–142 BCE) is thought to be one of the candidates for the Wicked Priest,
although several alternatives have been suggested through the years. During
the first generation of Scrolls scholarship both Geza Vermes and Józef T. Milik
were in favor of identifying this figure as Jonathan. Mathias Delcor proposed
early on that Jonathan was the name by which Alexander Jannaeus was called
at first. An alternative identification, also in the mid-second century, was
voiced by Frank Moore Cross, Jr., who argued in favor of identifying the Wicked
Priest as Simon (142–134 BCE). There are also theories that identify Alexander
Jannaeus, who was also called Jonathan (103–76 BCE), as the Wicked Priest.
According to Josephus, Jannaeus had a reputation for heavy drinking ( J.W. 1.98;
Ant. 13.398) which corroborates the detail in 1QpHab 11:12–15 about the Wicked
Priest. Jannaeus also had a reputation for cruelty (Ant. 13.388) and had many
enemies. It is widely agreed that the pesher genre is exceedingly difficult to
read for historical information because of its use of sobriquets.
Cave 4 pesher texts have confirmed further details known about the Teacher
found in the Cave 1 Pesher Habakkuk. According to the Pesher on the Psalms
from Cave 4, the Teacher is a priest who founded a community, supporting an
inference that can be made about the Teacher as priest found in 1QpHab 2:1–8:
“The Priest, the Teacher of [Righteousness, whom] God [ch]ose as a pillar/to
stand . . . [God] established him to build for him a congregation.” 1QpHab states
“they would not believe” (4QpPsa 2:1–2) and later, that they have not aligned
themselves with the Teacher. Then it says that these traitors of the latter days
“will not believe when they hear all that is going to ha[ppen t]o the last genera-
tion from the mouth of the Priest” (4QpPsa 2:6–8).
Scholars who have pursued this inquiry into historical origins reflect an all
too common impulse to understand a religion through its founder. The clas-
sic articulation of this is Max Weber’s model of religion as the institutional-
ization of a founder’s charisma.14 In such a model, the charismatic authority
of the founder becomes routinized by the community and passed on to sub-
sequent leaders. The desire to recover the historical details of the founder of
the Scrolls community was very much a part of early Scrolls scholarship. The
comparison of the Teacher of Righteousness to the figure of Jesus was made
early on by André Dupont-Sommer and John Allegro, both of whom put for-
ward the theory of the Teacher that anticipated the life and death of Jesus in
which the Teacher died a martyr’s tragic death. One passage from the Cave 4
Pesher on Psalms reports that the Wicked Priest actively pursued the death

14  Max Weber, On Charisma and Institution Building: Selected Papers, ed. Shmuel N.
Eisenstadt (Chicago: University of Chicago, 1968).
500 Harkins

of the Teacher of Righteousness (4QpPsa 1–10 iv 7–8). Dupont-Sommer read

certain passages in the Testament of Levi as referring to the Teacher’s violent
death. Allegro read the reference found in Pesher Nahum to a Lion of Wrath
who was “hanging men up alive” as a reference to the Wicked Priest, who was
presumed to be the historical Alexander Jannaeus. This was interpreted in a
provocative way as crucifixion. The general evidence about the Teacher known
from Cave 1 texts indicate that, like Jesus, he was known for his teachings. The
parallels between the Teacher of Righteousness and the figure of Jesus were
supported by the publication of certain Cave 4 manuscripts that further ac-
centuated the similarities between the two as leaders of communities.
In 1999 further parallels between the figure of the Teacher and other
Messianic movements, including the Jesus movement, were made by Michael
Wise who identified the TofR as a first century BCE Jew named Judah the
Essene, a figure also mentioned by Josephus ( J.W. 1.78–80; Ant. 15.371–379), and
presumably the referent of a double entendre in the context of a pesher inter-
pretation of Hab 2:4b:

Its interpretation (“and the righteous will live by his faithfulness” [Hab
2:4b]) concerns all those who observe Torah in the House of Judah, whom
God will save from the house of judgment on account of their tribulation
and their fidelity to the Righteous Teacher. (1QpHab 8:1)

Like the TofR, Judah the Essene was also known for his teaching ( J.W. 1.78–80;
Ant. 13.311–313). Much of Wise’s historical reconstruction gestures to Jeremias’s
argument about the authorship of the so-called Teacher Hymns, hymns that
were originally thought by Sukenik to be autobiographical meditations of
the Teacher.15 Jeremias’s primary reasoning relies on the assumption that the
uniqueness of the language points to the uniqueness of the Teacher’s author-
ity, but this is simply a correlation of the evidence based on the early presump-
tion that the Scrolls were representative of a single community at a precise
historical moment.
Within these debates surrounding the historical identity of the Teacher of
Righteousness and the quest for the origins of the community (now commu-
nities of the Scrolls) is the way in which the textual evidence is used. Many
scholars acknowledge the serious difficulties of identifying the historical fig-
ures behind the sobriquets alluded to in the Pesher Habakkuk, whose scenes
are certainly highly stylized and mediated images of history whose dramatic

15  Eliezer Sukenik, The Dead Sea Scrolls of the Hebrew University (Jerusalem: Magnes,
1955), 39.
How Should We Feel about the Teacher of Righteousness ? 501

dynamic conforms to the emotional peaks of chapters 1 and 2 of the bibli-

cal book of Habakkuk; they are not necessarily historical reports of events
that have been seen or experienced. Even as mediated images, the assump-
tion remains that somehow, these texts contained some kernel of historical
information.

The Teacher Hymns of the Hodayot

While mention of the Teacher appears only in the Damascus Document and
the Pesharim, the Hodayot have long served as the third leg for historical in-
quiry into the Teacher. The hymns known as the Teacher Hymns have been
used to fill in the historical contours of the Teacher by providing the teachings
of the founder, but the correlation rests on an illusory and fictive association.
Very early in the scholarship on the Scrolls, Eliezar Sukenik proposed that cer-
tain hymns from the Qumran Hodayot scroll were the autobiographical medi-
tations of the Teacher himself. Sukenik hastily surmised this based on his own
readings of the vivid imagery and emotional characteristics of these first person
hymns.16 While not everyone agreed with Sukenik’s initial assessment, many
subsequent scholars found this understanding to be compelling. As early as
1956, Frederick F. Bruce wrote that “many of them strike a personal note which
strongly suggests that they were first composed to express the experience and
devotion of one man, and that one man could hardly have been anybody other
than the Teacher of Righteousness.”17 Sukenik’s original position, also assumed
by many subsequent scholars, was largely driven by the strong voice of the
speaker in these hymns and allusions to events which he read alongside other
Cave 1 texts such as the Pesher Habakkuk, especially passages that speak of the
Teacher’s rivals. While some allusions to exile and rival teachers can be seen in
various places in the Teacher Hymns, column 12 has a notable density of these
themes. In the much quoted passage below, the speaker of these hymns joins
the image of banishment to rival opponents:

They drive me away from my land, like a bird from its nest. All my friends
and my relatives are driven away from me, and they regard me as a broken
pot. But they are lying interpreters and deceitful seers. They have planned
wickedness against me to exchange your law, which you engraved in my

16  Sukenik, Dead Sea Scrolls of Hebrew University, 39.

17  Frederick F. Bruce, The Teacher of Righteousness in the Qumran Texts (London: Tyndale,
1957), 15. The work is based on a public lecture which was delivered in 1956.
502 Harkins

heart, for slippery words for your people. They deny the drink of knowl-
edge from the thirsty ones; and for their thirst they give them sour wine
to drink so that they may gaze on their error, acting like madmen on their
feast days, snaring themselves in their nets. (1QHa 12:9–13)

In this passage the intensity of imagery is fueled by the detailed descriptions

of the speaker’s own anguish—his loss of place, betrayal by his companions,
and the spurious teachings of his rivals—and phrases that speak of the ap-
petitive functions (“They deny the drink of knowledge from the thirsty ones;
for their thirst they give them sour wine to drink,” ‫ויעצורו משקה דעת מצמאים‬
‫)ולצמאם ישקום חומץ‬. The latter elicits a visceral engagement by adding vividness
to the emotions that are otherwise stimulated by the report of the speaker’s
distress. These reports of utter desolation and dislocation were read alongside
the hymnist’s striking claims of privileged revelation, such as the image of hav-
ing deep knowledge of God’s Torah (“your Torah which you engraved/incul-
cated in my heart” ‫ )תורתכה אשר שננתה בלבבי‬in 12:11–12. Sukenik was the first of
many to surmise that these columns now known as the Teacher Hymns were
the personal meditations of the founder of the community associated with the
Scrolls. It was the striking and lively language of the Teacher Hymns that struck
scholars as highly distinctive markers of a strong authorial voice. The hymns
that employed a “lebendige Sprache” were thought to be associated with the
incomparable figure of the founder, the Teacher of Righteousness.18
In 1963 Jeremias articulated a theory about the authorial identification of
these hymns known popularly as the Teacher Hymns that was influenced by
Sukenik’s original assessment of them, the historical Jesus quest, and under-
lying romantic assumptions about authorship.19 The unique characteristics
and striking imagery of what he came to call the “Teacher Hymns” led to the
(problematic) reasoning that there could only have been one such remarkable
individual in the community at any one time. Such a claim clearly presumes
the assumption which has been decisively refuted within the last five years,
that the community of the Scrolls was not singular and it did not emerge in a
single decisive moment.

18  Jeremias, Der Lehrer der Gerechtigkeit, 171.

19  For further detailed discussion, see Harkins, “Who is the Teacher of the Teacher Hymns?”
455–59; The popular categories of “Teacher Hymns” and “Community Hymns” were
then distinguished by Heinz-Wolfgang Kuhn, Enderwartung und gegenwärtiges Heil:
Untersuchungen zu den Gemeindeliedern von Qumran, SUNT 4 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck
& Ruprecht, 1966), 24–25.
How Should We Feel about the Teacher of Righteousness ? 503

Other significant studies of the TofR include those by Michael O. Wise and
Michael Douglas. Wise correlated various events alluded to in the Hymns
(banishment and conflict with rivals) with those known from scrolls such as
the Pesher Habakkuk, within the context of an authorial identification of the
speaker of the Hymns.20 In doing so, Wise reinvigorated an earlier discussion of
the dating of the Teacher to the first century BCE.21 Similarly, in the late 1990s,
Michael C. Douglas applied literary critical approaches to the Teacher Hymns
in an effort to isolate a truly distinctive language in the Teacher Hymns, offer-
ing what he thought was an improvement to Jeremias’s earlier study.22 In his
dissertation, he sought to isolate distinctive collocations and linguistic phrases
that he then identified with the author (the Teacher). This understanding of
authorship as a sign of uniqueness is contrary to what we might expect in light
of studies of prayers and hymns that demonstrated the overwhelming prefer-
ence for stereotypical language and formulas in the Second Temple period.23
Douglas applied Turner’s model for various sociological stages of group forma-
tion and proposed that the Teacher Hymns also reflect these critical stages.
This assertion presumes that what can be seen in the Pesher Habakkuk about
the community formation is historically accurate.
Methodologically, the task of identifying certain passages from the
Cave 1 Hodayot scroll as “authentic Teacher compositions” is difficult. Michael
Douglas’s study of the Hodayot sought to identify a signature phrase, “power
made manifest through me,” as a marker of the Teacher’s authorial voice. The
paucity of the data and lack of an authentic text in comparison makes such
correlations difficult to defend in the absence of any composition known to
have been authored by him. The Hodayot simply do not provide the kind of
extensive data that make it possible to draw a conclusion about authorship.
Furthermore, the fragmentary nature of the scrolls give us an incomplete data
set in which we cannot speak conclusively about collocations of words, or the
relative position of key words, given the many lacunae that exist. Like previous

20  Michael Wise, “Dating the Teacher of Righteousness and the Floruit of his Movement,”
JBL 122 (2003): 53–87; Wise, The First Messiah: Investigating the Savior before Jesus (New
York: HarperCollins, 1999).
21  Wise, “Dating the Teacher of Righteousness,” 82. This first century dating had been put
forward early on by André Dupont-Sommer, Aperçus préliminaires sur les manuscrits de la
Mer Morte (Paris: Maisonneuve, 1950), 123.
22  Michael C. Douglas, “The Teacher Hymn Hypothesis Revisited,” DSD 6 (1999): 239–66.
23  Judith H. Newman, Praying by the Book: The Scripturalization of Prayer in Second Temple
Judaism, SBLEJL 14 (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1999); and Esther G. Chazon, “Scripture and
Prayer in ‘The Words of the Luminaries’,” in Prayers that Cite Scripture, ed. James L. Kugel
(Cambridge, MA: Harvard University, 2006), 25–41.
504 Harkins

studies of the Teacher Hymns, Douglas relies on an understanding of “unique”

expressions as markers of distinct authorial voice. This is difficult to main-
tain given what is known about Second Temple compositional techniques for
prayers and hymns which overwhelmingly preferred the use of stereotypical
phrasing and vocabulary.24
The understanding that certain Hodayot are autobiographical composi-
tions of the Teacher of Righteousness has led to a circularity in reasoning be-
cause there are no clear examples of writings by the Teacher. Even studies that
have sought to isolate specific language and vocabulary as distinctive to the
Teacher Hymns, fail to account for the striking variations in orthography that
present themselves throughout the Teacher Hymns collection. Because there
is no clear example of an autograph by the Teacher, and no examples of texts
that the Teacher claims to have written, it is very difficult to argue that the so-
called Teacher Hymns are autobiographical writings because they contain a
signature phrase. Also, while much of the interest in the historical Teacher of
Righteousness has been influenced by the methodology of historical Jesus re-
search, unlike the ancient attributions of sayings to the historical Jesus, we do
not have a single instance of ancient attribution of the Teacher Hymns to the
Teacher of Righteousness. The primary rationale for understanding these com-
positions in 1QH as teacher compositions is that certain images and themes
correspond to descriptions of conflict and tensions among rivals found in the
Pesher Habakkuk. Methodologically, however, this correlation cannot dem-
onstrate that an otherwise unidentified figure known only as the Teacher of
Righteousness wrote these hymns.
The vividness of the language in the Teacher Hymns was taken optimistical-
ly by scholars who sought historical information. This also relied upon a faulty
understanding of the historical truth-telling of the genre of autobiography.
Literary critics during the mid-twentieth century had already made the point
that autobiography is not a form of history but rather a kind of writing that
follows the predictable contours of fiction.25 Frequently autobiographies show
a protagonist experiencing terrible challenges which are overcome within the

24  Newman, Praying by the Book; Chazon, “Scripture and Prayer in ‘The Words of the
Luminaries’,” 25–41.
25  Georges Gusdorf, “Conditions et limites de l’autobiographie,” in Formen der
Selbstdarstellung: Analekten zu einer Geschichte des literarischen Selbstportraits, ed.
Günther Reichenkron and Erick Hall (Berlin: Duncker & Humblot, 1956), appeared in
English as “Conditions and Limits of Autobiography,” in Autobiography: Essays Theoretical
and Critical, ed. and trans James Olney (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1980),
28–48.
How Should We Feel about the Teacher of Righteousness ? 505

larger literary theme of transformation. Sukenik’s assumption that histori-

cal facts can be recovered from autobiographical writing is methodologically
problematic.
Many of the theories that sought to read the so-called Teacher Hymns in
light of the quest for the identity of the Teacher of Righteousness were based
on the partial evidence of the Hodayot available at that time which was the
Cave 1 scroll that did not preserve the remarkable hymn known best from
the Cave 4 manuscripts of the Hodayot. The Cave 4 Hodayot (4Q427–4Q432)
were published in the late 1990s, long after the Teacher Hymns Hypothesis had
been established by the first generation of scholars.26 Among them, a copy of
what Esther Eshel has named the “Self-Glorification Hymn” (SGH) was found
and then reconstructed at the very end of the Cave 1 scroll of the Hodayot.27
The great majority of studies of this hymn from 4Q427 have analyzed it in iso-
lation from other Hodayot, usually in light of other well-known mystical writ-
ings.28 The Cave 4 manuscripts in general have provided a richer context for
understanding the religion of the Qumran communities as they indicate the
importance of otherworldly experiences and angelic phenomena.
It is worth noting that the SGH did not enter into scholarly discussions of
the Hodayot during the first two generations of Scrolls scholarship because it
was not preserved in 1QHa, even though it has been reconstructed near the end
of that scroll. Because of the peculiarities of its publication history, it has not
had much impact on how early scholars thought of the Hodayot. The SGH is
known from different Cave 4 manuscripts which only began to be published in
the 1980s. Therefore, the SGH was not available to most scholars until almost
forty years after the Cave 1 Hodayot had been well established and discussed in
the literature. As a result, the text of SGH and its remarkable theology have not
impacted how scholars have thought about the collection of Hodayot in which
it is materially associated.

26  Eileen M. Schuller, “Hodayot,” DJD 29: 69–254.

27  The text known as the Self-Glorification Hymn has been reconstructed very near the
end of the Cave 1 Hodayot Scroll at 25:34–27:3. Esther Eshel, “The Identification of
the ‘Speaker’ of the Self-Glorification Hymn,” in The Provo International Conference on the
Dead Sea Scrolls, ed. Donald W. Parry and Eugene C. Ulrich, STDJ 30 (Leiden: Brill, 1999),
617–35.
28  E.g., Philip S. Alexander, The Mystical Texts: Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice and Related
Manuscripts (London: T&T Clark, 2006); Alexander, “Qumran and the Genealogy
of Western Mysticism,” in New Perspectives on Old Texts: Proceedings of the Tenth
International Symposium of the Orion Center for the Study of the Dead Sea Scrolls and
Associated Literature, 9–11 January, 2005, ed. Esther G. Chazon and Betsy Halpern-Amaru,
STDJ 88 (Leiden: Brill, 2010), 215–35.
506 Harkins

The SGH is usually discussed independently from the other Hodayot,

as is commonly done with psalms and prayers, but interestingly it has also
been segregated from other Hodayot in major critical editions and scholarly
translations.29 This separation is notable because it perpetuates the early but
unfounded notion that the SGH is completely distinct from the other Hodayot.30
The peculiarities of the publication history of the SGH have created the cir-
cumstances that tend to isolate this striking composition from other Hodayot,
inviting comparisons of its imagery and theology with non-Hodayot texts, and
also preserving the Teacher Hymns as a discrete and unaffected collection.
While earlier scholars were in the habit of reading these prayer texts for
historical details, it seems that such an exclusively historical understanding of
the Teacher Hymns has not considered how these prayers functioned within a
larger religious worldview.

How Should We Feel about these Changing Understandings of the

TofR?

Charlotte Hempel has described the primary driving force behind Qumran
scholarship as one of historical reconstruction.31 She describes the shift that
has taken place in how the Teacher of Righteousness has been understood then
and now with the contrasting images of a cowboy, specifically John Wayne as
he gallops onto the scene “to rescue a community in distress” and the veiled
and more obscure Wizard of Oz, whose persona looms larger than his actual
reality.32 As her work on the Rule texts has shown, one of the biggest areas of
development in the understanding of the Qumran Community/communities
that can be noted, is the recognition that the Scrolls do not reflect the unmedi-
ated concerns of a single group in the distant past; in this way, they are unlike
the reality TV images of events that take place as they happen.33 Instead, the
texts should be appreciated as offering highly mediated understandings of
multiple communities and experiences over time.

29  The SGH is published separately from the other Cave 4 Hodayot manuscripts in DJD 29
and in Outside the Bible, ed. Louis H. Feldman, James L. Kugel, and Lawrence H. Schiffman
(Philadelphia: JPS; Lincoln: University of Nebraska, 2013), 2:1924–26.
30  This along with other questions stimulated my study of the Hodayot, Reading with an “I”
to the Heavens: Looking at the Qumran Hodayot through the Lens of Visionary Traditions,
Ekstasis 3 (Berlin: de Gruyter, 2012), 12–14.
31  Charlotte Hempel, The Qumran Rule Texts in Context (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2013), 5.
32  Hempel, Qumran Rule Texts in Context, 5.
33  See Hempel, Qumran Rule Texts in Context, 8.
How Should We Feel about the Teacher of Righteousness ? 507

Approaches to the empirical data of the Scrolls and archaeological site

and how they are used for understanding the Teacher of Righteousness
have become more subtle as a result of greater skepticism over the historical
Teacher. In response to the previous quest to recover the historical “event” of
the Teacher in time and space, Charlotte Hempel, George Brooke, and Loren
Stuckenbruck have argued wisely for a more nuanced recovery of the com-
munity’s perceptions of the Teacher in antiquity.34 Stuckenbruck notes cor-
rectly that instead of reconstructing the historical event of the origins of the
Community and the Teacher, we should look at the reception and legacy of
the TofR.35 Jutta Jokiranta has also made the well-taken point that the Teacher
texts succeed in constructing what is better understood as a prototypical lead-
er, not a historical portrait of one.36 These shifts do well to move away from a
preoccupation over an historical Teacher, toward a view of the text as instan-
tiations of remembered memories about the Teacher. Again, it must be kept
in mind that the ancient data are limited to only a handful of writings, and so
even a more nuanced study of the communities’ perceptions of the Teacher
as they appear in these few writings cannot automatically speak to how wide-
spread these perceptions were in antiquity.
Early understandings of the Teacher of Righteousness were marked by an
optimism concerning what can be reconstructed from this time period. The
desire to recover historical origins is older than the discovery of the Qumran
Scrolls themselves and is deeply rooted in the questions that concern bibli-
cal studies and the study of religion in general. The quest to understand fully
the figure of the Teacher comports with the field of religious studies which
routinely understands a religion and its founder. The historical identification
of a founding figure, a religious and political leader of contested authority,
has yet to be decisively demonstrated. It is likely the case that the evidence
itself—mediated texts about the Teacher—does not lend itself to such histori-
cal judgments. Maxine Grossman offers the following statements about the
failure of historical arguments about the Teacher’s identity, an essay that she
appropriately subtitled: “The Death of the Author of the Dead Sea Scrolls.”37
Her discussion applies post-modern theories in which the various writings

34  Hempel, Qumran Rule Texts in Context, 4–5; Brooke, “Brian as the Teacher of
Righteousness”; and Stuckenbruck, “The Teacher of Righteousness Remembered.”
35  Stuckenbruck, “The Teacher of Righteousness Remembered.”
36  Jokiranta, “Qumran—The Prototypical Teacher in the Qumran Pesharim.”
37  Maxine Grossman, “Roland Barthes and the Teacher of Righteousness: The Death of
the Author of the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in The Oxford Handbook of the Dead Sea Scrolls, ed.
Timothy H. Lim and John J. Collins (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011), 709–22.
508 Harkins

about the teacher are understood to generate a figure of the Teacher, one which
is only an illusory effect and not evidence of an historical author. She writes:

The Teacher as historical author of some of these texts may remain a

valid possibility, but we must at the same time be willing to negotiate
other distinct alternatives: that a given text was written as a retrospective
treatment of the Teacher’s message, or as an idealized version of what
the Teacher might have said in novel circumstances, or even what a later
group member or leader might wish to say, irrespective of the Teacher
and his message. And we must recognize that “original meaning” (in the
sense of both historical origin and authorial intent) is only a fragment
of a much larger picture, whose ultimate scope is framed all the more
so by a diversity of audience interpretations and their constructions of
textual meaning.38

Scholars today admit that it is no longer possible to optimistically expect to

recover the historical Teacher of Righteousness from the Scrolls. Even so, how
should we feel about the death of the Teacher of Righteousness—a figure who
has been with us since the beginnings of the Scrolls themselves in the 1940s?
Understandably, we might expect to feel some desolation and regret over the
loss of the TofR. One notable limitation of the inquiry into historical origins
that has long dominated the study of the Scrolls is that it seldom raised the
bigger question of how the ancient readers and hearers of the Scrolls felt about
him. Such a question engages larger theoretical issues of meaning and the so-
cial mechanisms that contribute to religion’s persistence in antiquity, a move
that redirects attention to the more interesting question: what did ancient
peoples find compelling about the understanding of religion that is preserved
in the Scrolls?
An inquiry into the phenomenological experience of texts can, I think, offer
alternative perspectives on the Scrolls and how we understand a figure like
the Teacher of Righteousness. Notably, the principle text associated with the
Teacher is the Pesher Habakkuk which also contains much dramatic and pal-
pable vividness. In these writings, the figure of the Teacher is presented in such
a way as to strategically arouse emotion within the Second Temple reader. In
the case of Pesher Habakkuk, the literary presentation of the Teacher is within
a highly-charged conflict. Stuckenbruck does well to ask how did these me-
diated understandings of the Teacher function in the ongoing remembering

38  Grossman, “Roland Barthes and the Teacher of Righteousness,” 718.

How Should We Feel about the Teacher of Righteousness ? 509

and experiencing of a religious identity?39 Here, the scholarly shift to memory

and remembering can serve as an access point for the serious investigation of
the instrumental role of emotions in assisting a reader in a vivid experiencing
of foundational events that are otherwise inaccessible because they are the
substance of mythic origins. In the case of the Pesher Habakkuk, emotional
states can carry a reader back to the foundational event—either historical or
mythical—allowing for the visceral re-experiencing of conflict. In such vividly
imagined scenes, the reader’s sympathies are primed to respond emotionally
to the conflict and the tragic experiences of betrayal and outrage over the be-
havior of the rivals.
The Scrolls that have survived give us only a partial glimpse of different
scenes involving the TofR and his rival. In the Pesher Habakkuk these vivid
scenarios of conflict can be understood to have a notably strong effect on the
reader leading to experiences of vividness. How a text is told (its literary style
and use of dramatic imagery, and narrative pace), can have a far greater impact
on the reader than whether or not it is fictional or non-fictional.40 The activity
of reading and the mental imaging that takes place can be a generative process
whereby a sensory representation of that imagery is produced in the reader’s
mind, resulting in a kind of experiential frame that can be updated or changed
as the reader gains more information about the events described in the text.41
Even allowing for natural variation in sensory or visualization capabilities that
can be expected over any given population, there is the general recognition of
an embodied experience of reading that engages the sensory and motor facul-
ties of the brain called “enactive reading.”42
These observations from integrative understandings of the reading pro-
cess in the social sciences can broaden and deepen our own understanding
of reader-response criticism. Here we can understand the dramatic portrayal of
events as arousing strong emotions within the individuals who read and hear
textualized memories about the TofR, thereby providing them access to a par-
ticipatory re-experiencing of foundational (fictionalized) events. Whether
those events are factually true as they are described in the texts or not, the
literary style and vividness of the texts about the Teacher and his rivals offer

39  Stuckenbruck, “The Teacher of Righteousness Remembered,” 75–94.

40  Cain Todd, “Attending Emotionally to Fiction,” Journal of Value Inquiry 46 (2013): 449–65.
41  Anežka Kumičová, “Literary Narrative and Mental Imagery: A View from Embodied
Cognition,” Style 48 (2014): 275–93. See also Lawrence W. Barsalou et al., “Embodiment in
Religious Knowledge,” Journal of Cognition and Culture 5 (2005):14–57.
42  Anežka Kuzmičová, “Presence in the Reading of Literary Narrative: A Case for Motor
Enactment,” Semiotica 189 (2012): 23–48.
510 Harkins

memories that can be engaged emotionally and re-experienced by different

communities through time. In the process, vivid memories of myths of origins
can be updated to meet the needs of new circumstances while retaining their
emotionally compelling contours.43 How the text uses dramatic language and
imagery can be cues for how a reader should feel. These scripted emotional re-
sponses in turn participate in larger social mechanisms for group formation
because these scripted emotions are linked to events that a community deems
worthy of remembering and crucial for identity-making. In this way, texts may
be understood to take part in a larger social mechanism that serves to intensify
identification with the group.
In the Pesher Habakkuk, the Teacher is presented as being in open conflict
with certain rivals known only as the “Man of the Lie” and the “Spouter of the
Lie.” As has already been discussed, these passages suggest that there was some
break in a community over rival leadership. 1QpHab 2:1–4 states that the Man
of the Lie was not faithful to God’s covenant or the Teacher. Later, the scroll
states that the Teacher was publicly rebuked (1QpHab 5:8–12) and that the Man
of the Lie who had rejected the Torah did not support him (the Teacher) when
this happened (1QpHab 2:1–4). The Teacher was also actively and unjustly per-
secuted by the “Wicked Priest.”

Its interpretation concerns the Wicked Priest, who pursued the Teacher
of Righteousness, to devour him up with his poisonous fury to the House of
Exile. And at the end of the feast, the repose of the Day of Atonement, he
appeared to them to swallow them up and to make them stumble on the
day of fasting, their restful Sabbath. (1QpHab 11:4–8)

This famous passage is frequently cited to identify the Wicked Priest. Similarly,
persecution unto death is mentioned in 4QpPsa 1–10 iv 7–8 “the Wicked
[Pri]est who w[aited in ambush for the Teach]er of Right[eousness and sought
to] have him put to death . . .” As representative texts, these passages make
ample use of concrete imagery that allows for enactive reading to take place.

43  See Pascal Boyer, “What is Memory For? Functions of Recall in Cognition and Culture,”
in Memory in Mind and Culture, ed. Pascal Boyer and James V. Wertsch (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2009), 3–28. Vivid egocentric episodic memories have an
elasticity that allows them to be constructed and reconstructed. It is this cognitive pro-
cess that allows for the adaptive capacity of memories to be reconstructed in imagining
future scenarios; Daniel L. Schacter and Donna Rose Addis, “The Cognitive Neuroscience
of Constructive Memory: Remembering the Past and Imagining the Future,” Philosophical
Transactions of the Royal Society 362 (2007): 773–86.
How Should We Feel about the Teacher of Righteousness ? 511

Language about spatial and sensory perceptions (“pursuing after” ‫רדף אחר‬, “to
make them stumble” ‫ולכשילם‬, “appearing to them” ‫ )הופיע אליהם‬appears in this
vivid scene alongside references to emotions (“in the heat of his rage” ‫בכעס‬
‫ )חמתו‬and the body’s experiences (“their resting” ‫)מנוחתם‬, and references to
appetitive behavior (“to devour him” ‫לבלעו‬, “on the day of fasting” ‫)ביום צום‬. All
of these accounts of conflict are intensely described to heighten the reader’s
experiences of anguish in the process of enactive reading.
When texts are written in a highly stylized manner with alliteration, asso-
nance, and other literary devices, or written in a deliberate, structured format,
the speed of reading is slowed down.44 The slower pace of reading that occurs
when highly stylized language is introduced allows time for the intensifica-
tion of attention and emotional responses to occur.45 In this space of slow-
ing down, the naturally associative aspects of emotion can lead the reader
to remember other images or metaphors that aroused similar emotional
responses.46 It is this process by which we might imagine how enactive reading
allows for the re-experiencing of foundational narratives and the generative
process of updating that narrative in light of changing circumstances.47
The conflict described between the Teacher and the Wicked Priest in
Pesher Habakkuk is thought to be over a calendrical dispute. Stuckenbruck
writes that the community which was observing the feast at the time taught
by the Teacher also felt themselves to be re-experiencing the persecution for
themselves.48 The reading of this text by subsequent communities certainly
fostered a similar emotional response. All of the references that portray the
Teacher as a victim of injustice contribute to the incitement of strong emo-
tions within a community who is sympathetic to him. Stuckenbruck writes:

44  The use of literary devices of alliteration or assonance forces the slowing down of the
reading process which allows for the time needed to generate greater and more detailed
visualizations and also stronger emotional responses. David S. Miall and Don Kuiken,
“Foregrounding, Defamiliarization, and Affect: Response to Literary Stories,” Poetics 22
(1994): 389–407, esp. 394–96.
45  Highly stylized language employs literary devices that make language more cumbersome
for a reader. Writing that is intended to be read for communication and meaning is as-
sumed to be more direct; but writing that is intended to evoke an emotional response in
the reader is intentionally obfuscated by literary devices that slow down the pace of read-
ing so that the mental faculties of visualization and emotional response can take place.
Miall and Kuiken, “Foregrounding, Defamiliarization, and Affect,” 390–91.
46  Miall and Kuiken, “Foregrounding, Defamiliarization, and Affect,” 395.
47  Boyer, “What are Memories for?”
48  Stuckenbruck, “The Teacher of Righteousness Remembered,” 41.
512 Harkins

The memory of the Wicked Priest is also one that “remains alive” more
than just a record of what happened in the past—it is activated through
biblical interpretation as a way of coming to terms with what is happen-
ing in the present and what will, in consequence, happen in the future.49

The reenactment of the emotions related to the betrayal of the Teacher can
play an instrumental role in helping the community to make sense of their
present and future situation, as Stuckenbruck suggests. The arousal of these
emotions can also serve to heighten the experience of group identity for mem-
bers who enactively read or hear these texts, and thereby participate experien-
tially in an embodied remembering.
Within religious contexts, emotions are precisely controlled, with certain
ones prescribed and others banned. As bodily displays, emotions also enjoy
a political dimension. The performance of certain ritual behaviors, includ-
ing public reading, is aimed at generating the desired emotional and cogni-
tive state within the reader. These displays of emotion can exert an important
pro-social effect on the community that observes them. Ritually performed
emotions have an important outward dimension and can profoundly influ-
ence the spectators or observers, thereby directing them to mirror the desired
emotions.50 The question, “how should the reader feel about the Teacher of
Righteousness?” is an important one when we consider how the style and im-
agery in a text can cue performative emotions which in turn function to inten-
sify the identity felt among group members.
The display of performative emotions can signal important information
to a group and these markers can be registered as either costly displays or as
credibility-enhancing displays, both of which can contribute to group identifi-
cation. What is crucial about ritually performed emotions is not whether they
stem from a genuine interior state, but that they are expressed according to
the scripted scenario. When they are appropriately displayed, they can serve
an important strategic role in the community’s re-experiencing of the event

49  Stuckenbruck, “The Teacher of Righteousness Remembered,” 44.

50  Contemporary neuropsychological understandings of emotion and the body that are
used here are offered only as a heuristic model for understanding how the arousal of
emotions participates in other cognitive processes, not as a diagnostic one that can verify
whether emotions were actually aroused (or not) in this particular Second Temple read-
ing of a text. On this point, Gary Ebersole is correct to critique attempts to evaluate the
authenticity of emotions displayed in a ritual context as a strictly modern concern,
“The Function of Ritual Weeping Revisited: Affective Expression and Moral Discourse,”
History of Religions 39 (2000): 211–46.
How Should We Feel about the Teacher of Righteousness ? 513

that is being described. The communal experiencing of these emotions can

also be said, furthermore, to intensify their effect. In the case of the Teacher
passages in the Pesher Habakkuk, the portrait of the figure is presented in such
a way as to enflame the sympathies of the reader. The strategic reenactment
of emotions not only generates appropriate emotions within the reader; emo-
tions can also move through a group through the process of mirroring. Scripted
emotions are a way for a group to experience with vividness the foundational
events. In such a scenario, the Teacher and the events related to him, do not
need to be understood as a historically accurate report. Enactive reading and
immersive experiencing of a text does not depend on whether it is fictional
or non-fictional, but rather on a text’s dramatic literary style and vividness of
language.51

Conclusion

The Dead Sea Scrolls have given scholars unprecedented access to an ancient
Jewish movement that has not survived. These manuscripts have dramatically
transformed how scholars understand the era that is critical for what would
later become Rabbinic Judaism and Christianity, a time known as the Second
Temple period. The manuscripts that were discovered in 1947 became the
purview of an elite group of highly specialized scholars who were skilled in
ancient texts and paleography and quickly became experts in ancient manu-
script reconstruction. Traditional understandings of the TofR as the founder
of the community of the Scrolls expressed an optimism regarding the ability
to recover fully the historical origins of the group, but today scholars are much
more nuanced and cautious in how they think (and feel) about these texts.
George Brooke rightly identified the 1980s as a watershed decade in Qumran
studies that marked the move from optimism to pessimism regarding the abil-
ity to recover history from the Scrolls.52 The debate over the authorship of the
text known as 4QMMT marks a significant shift in optimism in the quest for
historical reconstruction in general. Scholarship after this point reflects greater
suspicion of the ability to recover a full blown historical context for the Scrolls,
or at least, is more tentative in the claims that are made about the Teacher and
his contemporaries. Around this time as well, the publication of the Cave 4
manuscripts have also contributed to how scholars have understood the peo-
ple of the Scrolls. The analysis of the rule texts from Cave 4 has shown that

51  Todd, “Attending Emotionally to Fiction.”

52  Brooke, “Brian as the Teacher of Righteousness,” 129–30.
514 Harkins

the singularity of experience that early scholars assumed about the Scrolls and
archaeological site was an oversimplification. Synthesizing publications about
the multiplicity of the communities of the Scrolls have appeared within the
last five years in the works of John Collins and Alison Schofield.53 These stud-
ies offer a much more complex understanding of the historical context of the
Scrolls than was previously imagined by the early scholars of these texts.
A good number of scholars today recognize the limitations of earlier as-
sessments of the Teacher of Righteousness. While scholars may have felt some
disappointment that the Scrolls, in the end, yielded such a relatively meager
set of texts about the Teacher of Righteousness, new integrative approaches
have raised new questions, making it a fitting time to ask: how should we feel
about the Teacher of Righteousness? How did these texts about the TofR func-
tion meaningfully within a religious system? In the end, the greater alignment
of Scrolls scholarship with other integrative methods from the social sciences
may be a reason for us to feel optimistic about the future.

53  Collins, Beyond the Qumran Movement; Alison Schofield, From Qumran to the Yaḥad:
A New Paradigm of Textual Development for the Community Rule, STDJ 77 (Leiden: Brill,
2008).
The Teacher of Righteousness and His Enemies
Reinhard G. Kratz

The Scholarly Discussion

This article* is dedicated, in honour, to George Brooke, who, in recent times,

has revived the debate about the “Teacher of Righteousness” in the Dead Sea
Scrolls with two important contributions.1 In these contributions he maintains
that behind the “Teacher” a historical figure is hidden, who was crucially im-
portant for the (pre-) history of the community of Qumran in the 2nd century
BCE. But he also opens up a new perspective for understanding the relevant
passages in which the “Teacher” is mentioned. Apart from the usual identifica-
tion of the “Teacher” with a priest Brooke discusses the prophetic and sapi-
ential traits of the figure, and explores the question of how the “Teacher” is
represented in the texts under different conditions and at different times. In
other words: Brooke distinguishes the historical figure and its actual function
from its literary reception and presentation. By so doing he can ultimately even
leave open “whoever the Teacher was, whether real or fictional, and whenever
he was.”2
Brooke does not stand completely alone with this distinction of historical
and literary “Teacher.” In recent times, the number of voices that cast doubt
on the purely historical, not to say historicist, analysis of the relevant text pas-
sages are increasing. The scholarly narrative of the founder and leader of the
Community of Qumran and his enemies was established in the monographs
of Gert Jeremias and Hartmut Stegemann.3 Subsequently, many modifications
to this image were proposed, but all within the framework of the classical

* English translation Ruth Ludewig-Welch (Göttingen).

1  George J. Brooke, “Was the Teacher of Righteousness Considered to Be a Prophet?” in
Prophecy after the Prophets? The Contribution of the Dead Sea Scrolls to the Understanding of
Biblical and Extra-Biblical Prophecy, ed. Kristin de Troyer and Armin Lange, CBET 52 (Leuven:
Peeters, 2009), 77–97; Brooke, “The ‘Apocalyptic’ Community, the Matrix of the Teacher, and
Rewriting Scripture,” in Authoritative Scriptures in Ancient Judaism, ed. Mladen Popović,
JSJSup 141 (Leiden: Brill, 2010), 37–53.
2  Brooke “Was the Teacher of Righteousness Considered to Be a Prophet,” 96.
3  Gert Jeremias, Der Lehrer der Gerechtigkeit, SUNT 2 (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht,
1963); Hartmut Stegemann, Die Entstehung der Qumrangemeinde (Bonn, 1971; published pri-
vately). See also Hartmut Stegemann, Die Essener, Qumran, Johannes der Täufer und Jesus:
Mit einem Nachwort von Gert Jeremias, Herder Spektrum 5881, 10th ed. (Freiburg im Breisgau:

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, ���7 | doi ��.��63/9789004344532_029

516 Kratz

historical reconstruction. Here, the relationship of the historical “Teacher”

to the eschatological “Teacher” in D and the discovery of the plurality of the
groups played a major role.4
The modifications also include the “Groningen Hypothesis,” which under-
stood the “Wicked Priest” to be a cipher for all High Priests in Jerusalem (con-
sidered to be illegitimate). This hypothesis has changed not only the dating of
events, but also—unintentionally—laid the axe to the root of historical recon-
struction.5 In the meantime there has been a further powerful sawing away
at the trunk. A number of contributions have abandoned historical recon-
struction, and try to explain the findings using the approaches of literary stud-
ies, social studies, and cultural memory studies.6 Charlotte Hempel recently

Herder, 2007); James C. VanderKam, The Dead Sea Scrolls Today, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids:
Eerdmans, 2010).
4  See Jerome Murphy-O’Connor, “The Damascus Document Revisited,” RB 92 (1985): 223–46;
Philip R. Davies, “The Teacher of Righteousness and the End of Days,” RevQ 13 (1988): 313–17;
Davies, “Communities at Qumran and the Case of the Missing Teacher,” RevQ 15 (1991): 275–
86. For a purely eschatological interpretation of the Teacher, see Ben Zion Wacholder, “The
Righteous Teacher in the Pesherite Commentaries,” HUCA 73 (2002): 1–27. For discussion,
see John J. Collins, The Scepter and the Star: Messianism in Light of the Dead Sea Scrolls, 2nd
ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010), 110–148; concerning the plurality of the communities,
see John J. Collins, Beyond the Qumran Community: The Sectarian Movement of the Dead Sea
Scrolls (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2010).
5  Florentino García Martínez, “Qumran Origins and Early History: A Groningen Hypothesis,”
Folia Orientalia 25 (1988): 113–36; García Martínez and Van der Woude, “A ‘Groningen’
Hypothesis of Qumran Origins and Early History,” RevQ 14 (1990): 521–41; García Martínez,
“The Origins of the Essene Movement and the Qumran Sect,” in García Martínez and Julio
Trebolle Barrera, The People of the Dead Sea Scrolls: Their Writings, Beliefs, and Practices
(Leiden: Brill, 1995), 77–96; García Martínez, “The Groningen Hypothesis Revisited,” in The
Dead Sea Scrolls and Contemporary Culture: Proceedings of the International Conference held
at the Israel Museum, Jerusalem ( July 6–8, 2008), ed. Roitman et al., STDJ 93 (Leiden: Brill,
2011), 17–29; concerning the “Teacher,” see García Martínez, “Rethinking the Bible: Sixty
Years of Dead Sea Scrolls Research and Beyond,” in The Dead Sea Scrolls: Transmission of
Traditions and Production of Texts, ed. Sarianna Metso, Hindy Najman, and Eileen Schuller,
STDJ 92 (Leiden: Brill, 2010), 19–36; García Martínez, “Beyond the Sectarian Divide: The
‘Voice of the Teacher’ as an Authority-Conferring Strategy in Some Qumran Texts,” in
The Dead Sea Scrolls: Transmission of Traditions and Production of Texts, ed. Sarianna
Metso, Hindy Najman, and Eileen Schuller, STDJ 92 (Leiden: Brill, 2010), 227–44. See
further below.
6  Jutta Jokiranta, “Qumran—The Prototypical Teacher in the Qumran Pesharim: A Social
Identity Approach,” in Ancient Israel: The Old Testament in its Social Context, ed. Philip F.
Esler (Minneapolis: Fortress, 2006), 254–63; Jokiranta, Social Identity and Sectarianism in the
Qumran Movement, STDJ 105 (Leiden: Brill, 2013); Maxine L. Grossman, “Roland Barthes and
The Teacher of Righteousness and His Enemies 517

summarised this development with the laconic statement that we should un-
derstand the “Teacher” as a literary construct in the sense of Hindy Najman’s
“founder figures.”7
It is surprising that Johann Maier’s contribution is rarely mentioned in this
context.8 Although Maier—like most others—firmly clung to the historicity
of the “Teacher” and founder of the community of Qumran, he was already
pointing in a new direction when he explained the expression “Teacher of
Righteousness” as being an office. This paper would like to recall Maier’s thesis
and ask whether—in conjunction with the “Groningen Hypothesis” and other
newer approaches—it could possibly be suitable for mediating between the
traditional image of the historical and the literary “Teacher.”

The Scholarly Narrative

The figure of the so called “Teacher of Righteousness” or “righteous teacher”—

both translations are possible—occurs in two groups of texts: the Damascus
Document (D) and the pesharim (P). In D the “Teacher” seems to be respon-
sible for the interpretation of the Torah and in P for the interpretation of the

the Teacher of Righteousness: The Death of the Author of the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in The Oxford
Handbook of the Dead Sea Scrolls, ed. Timothy H. Lim and John J. Collins (Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2010), 709–22; Steven D. Fraade, Legal Fictions: Studies of Law and Narrative
in the Discursive Worlds of Ancient Jewish Sectarians and Sages, JSJSup 147 (Leiden: Brill,
2011), 37–41; Angela K. Harkins, “Who is the Teacher of the Teacher Hymns? Re-Examining
the Teacher Hymns Hypothesis Fifty Years Later,” in A Teacher for All Generations: Essays in
Honor of James C. VanderKam, ed. Eric F. Mason et al., JSJSup 153 (Leiden: Brill, 2005), 1:449–
67; Loren T. Stuckenbruck, “The Teacher of Righteousness Remembered: From Fragmentary
Sources to Collective Memory in the Dead Sea Scrolls,” in Memory in the Bible and Antiquity:
The Fifth Durham-Tübingen Research Symposium (Durham, September 2004), ed. Stephen C.
Barton, Loren T. Stuckenbruck, and Benjamin G. Wold, WUNT 212 (Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck,
2007), 75–94; Stuckenbruck, “The Legacy of the Teacher of Righteousness in the Dead Sea
Scrolls,” in New Perspectives on Old Texts: Proceedings of the Tenth International Symposium of
the Orion Center for the Study of the Dead Sea Scrolls and Associated Literature, 9–11 January
2005, ed. Esther G. Chazon and Betsy Halpern-Amaru in collaboration with Ruth A. Clements,
STDJ 88 (Leiden: Brill, 2010), 23–49.
7  Charlotte Hempel, The Qumran Rule Texts in Context: Collected Studies, TSAJ 154 (Tübingen:
Mohr Siebeck, 2013), 4–5, referring to Hindy Najman, Seconding Sinai: The Development of
Mosaic Discourse in Second Temple Judaism, JSJSup 77 (Leiden: Brill, 2003; repr. Atlanta: SBL
Press, 2009).
8  Johann Maier, Der Lehrer der Gerechtigkeit, Franz-Delitzsch-Vorlesung 5 (Münster: Institutum
Judaicum Delitzschianum, 1996).
518 Kratz

prophets. In both groups of texts he is confronted with certain adversaries,

namely with the “Man of the Lie” (‫ איש הכזב‬or ‫)איש הלצון‬, in P also with the
“Wicked Priest” (‫)הכוהן הרשע‬. These figures are enemies who lure the people
into leaving the right way and they persecute the “Teacher” or intend to destroy
and murder him.
In these figures Qumran scholarship usually sees historical individuals
and tries to identify them.9 The “Teacher” is supposed to be the founding fig-
ure of the Qumran community or the leader of an individual section within
the greater movements of the Hasidim and Essenes. The identification of the
“Teacher” with the legitimate successor of Alkimos as High Priest who was ex-
cluded from office by Jonathan during the vacancy between 160 and 153 BCE
enjoys great popularity. Many of the sectarian writings (such as 1QS, major
parts of the Hodayot, 4QMMT, 4QTestimonia, and even the Temple Scroll)
have been ascribed to him. The “Man of the Lie” is identified with an inter-
nal rival of the “Teacher” and an apostate from the community, the “Wicked
Priest,” with Jonathan himself who captured the position of the High Priest for
the Hasmonean dynasty in 153 BCE.10
As mentioned above, this narrative of Qumran scholarship which was for
a long time the prevailing view, is no longer a consensus.11 There are several
reasons for this change.
Firstly, the historical narrative is based on a free combination of different
passages and historical data from different contexts. If we look more closely it
is evident that the different passages and data do not, in fact, match: in D the
“Teacher” is an interpreter of the law, in P the interpreter of the prophets. In
CD 1 he is a founding figure, in CD 6 an eschatological figure announced only
for the end of time, and in CD 19–20 he has already passed away. Within the
pesharim, however, he seems to be still alive and is said to suffer persecution
by his enemies.
Furthermore, we have to be aware of the terminological differences, which
sometimes have to be emended in order to make the text fit to the histori-
cal theory (e.g. emendation of ‫ היחיד‬into ‫ היחד‬in CD 20). Especially striking
and noteworthy is the fact that in most of the cases in D there is no definite

9  See Michael A. Knibb, “Teacher of Righteousness,” EDSS 2:918–21; Timothy H. Lim, “Liar”
and “Wicked Priest,” EDSS 1:493–94, 973–76.
10  See the literature above n. 3, and recently, for instance, Émile Puech, “The Essenes and
Qumran, the Teacher and the Wicked Priest, the Origins,” in Enoch and Qumran Origins:
New Light on a Forgotten Connection, ed. Gabriele Boccarccini (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans,
2005), 298–302.
11  See esp. the literature above nn. 5–6.
The Teacher of Righteousness and His Enemies 519

article; thus, the expression does not say “the Teacher” but “a teacher”; only in
the pesharim is the construct formation consistently determined by the defi-
nite article.
Finally, there is, also in Qumran scholarship,12 a general scepticism today in
regard to theories that correlate literary constructions and historical events.
In fact, we have to concede that there is no firm ground for the identification
or dating of somebody like the “Teacher of Righteousness.” Even the date given
in CD I is merely a point of departure for a historical reconstruction. The 390
+ 20 years would lead to the year 197 or 177 BCE respectively. However, the first
figure (390) derives from Ezek 4:5. Many scholars start counting only from the
middle of the second century BCE thus mixing the literary figures with histori-
cal speculations about the identity and role of the “Teacher.” Sometimes spe-
cific explanations, such as a different chronology, are appealed to in support of
this procedure.
Above all, the question arises of how to deal with the references to a or the
“Teacher of Righteousness”?

The Alternatives

A new approach, which challenged the usual narrative of Qumran scholarship,

was the Groningen Hypothesis, first presented in 1988 by Florentino Garzía
Martínez and revisited and reformulated in 2008 (published in 2011).13 In my
opinion this hypothesis is ground-breaking in two respects.
Firstly, this hypothesis pays attention (again) to the broader historical and
political situation during the transition from Ptolemaic to Seleucid dominion
over Palestine in the late third and early second centuries BCE for the forma-
tion of the community. This means that the roots of the community go back
to before the Maccabean revolt and are closely related to the developments of

12  Here I am thinking mainly of Maxine L. Grossman, Reading for History in the Damascus
Document: A Methodological Study, STDJ 45 (Leiden: Brill, 2002); for discussion, see John
J. Collins, “Teacher and Servant,” RHPR 80 (2000): 37–50; Collins, Beyond the Qumran
Community; Collins, “Reading for History in the Dead Sea Scrolls.” DSD 18 (2011): 259–315;
VanderKam, The Dead Sea Scrolls Today; VanderKam, “The Pre-History of the Qumran
Community with a Reassessment of CD 1:5–11,” in The Dead Sea Scrolls and Contemporary
Culture: Proceedings of the International Conference Held at the Israel Museum, Jerusalem
( July 6–8, 2008), ed. Adolfo D. Roitman, Lawrence H. Schiffmann, and Shani Tzoref, STDJ
93 (Leiden: Brill, 2011), 59–76.
13  García Martínez, “Qumran Origins and Early History”; García Martínez, “The Groningen
Hypothesis Revisited.”
520 Kratz

the late biblical traditions, such as Chronicles, Ezra-Nehemiah, late prophecy,

late Psalms, and Ben Sira.
Secondly, the Groningen Hypothesis no longer identifies the “Wicked Priest”
with a historical person but is thinking of a label that designates every High
Priest of that time (i.e. the second and first centuries BCE).14 It suggests that
other designations such as “The Man of the Lie” and in particular the “Teacher
of Righteousness” should likewise be understood as labels, which do not mean
an individual historical person but rather a function or role model attributed
to different individuals. The “Teacher” could simply be a counter figure to the
“Wicked Priest,” an alternative to the priests and priestly families who are com-
peting with each other for the political and economic power at the Jerusalem
Temple under Ptolemaic and Seleucid rule.
Thus, the Groningen Hypothesis opens up the possibility of a new read-
ing of the relevant passages, differentiating the individual references to the
“Teacher” in D and P and explaining them in their individual literary contexts.
This is exactly what the new approaches, which are working with the means of
literary, social, and cultural memory studies, do.15 Following this path, we have
to investigate the figure of the “Teacher” first and foremost on the literary level
before we can perhaps try to draw some conclusions about the historical role
or function behind the literary figure.
Both the literary and the historical perspectives play a role in the hypothesis
of Johann Maier, who explained the expression “Teacher of Righteousness” as
designating an office or official function. Maier gives a new interpretation of
the verbs d-r-š and y-r-h hiphil and postulates an office at the Second Temple,
which consisted not only of interpreting the Mosaic Law, but also—with the
same authority as Moses—presenting and proclaiming old and new “Torah.”
He assumes that “Torah” embraces the “entire revelation of God’s will associ-
ated with the name of Moses.”16 By this Maier means not only the Pentateuch,
but everything that was handed down in the Dead Sea Scrolls under the
name of Moses and with his authority. The “Teacher of Righteousness” is
therefore the successor of Moses, and is designated as a kind of “Enactor of
Justice.” According to Maier, it is this traditional office of “Enactor of Justice”
that the “Teacher” of the Dead Sea Scrolls has claimed for himself and which
he practised.

14  See already van der Woude for 1QpHab in Adam S. van der Woude, “Wicked Priest or
Wicked Priests? Reflections on the Identification of the Wicked Priest in the Habakkuk
Commentary,” JJS 33 (1982): 349–59.
15  See above n. 6.
16  Maier, Der Lehrer der Gerechtigkeit, 9: “die gesamte mit dem Namen des Mose verbundene
Offenbarung des Gotteswillens.”
The Teacher of Righteousness and His Enemies 521

The assumption of such a traditional office, however, is very uncertain and,

in my opinion, needs modification. The assumption implies that the Torah of
Moses, i.e. the Pentateuch and other traditions that were associated with his
name, was always in use at the Second Temple. But this is something that we
do not yet know. On the contrary, there is some evidence that speaks for an-
other, more traditional (oral) “Torah” of the priests applying under the Oniads
in Jerusalem and later at the Temple in Leontopolis in Egypt. Some elements
of this “Torah” may perhaps have been received into the Pentateuch and other
Mosaic traditions, but originally was not identical with it. Recent studies on
the history of the Seleucids and the uprisings in Judah under Antiochus IV
have shown that the reasons for the rebellion were more of a political and
economic nature, and the constellations of rival groups before and after the
Maccabean revolt were different.17 The inner-Judean conflict about the Torah
of Moses and its correct application seems to have first begun after the upris-
ing in the Hasmonean period, when the Hasmoneans also made use of the
Torah of Moses and biblical Judaism as a means of legitimising the usurpation
of the high priesthood.
Either way, we can assume that it was the task of specific, specially-trained
priests at the Second Temple to administer the “Torah” and justice—on what-
ever basis. This could have been an indication for the establishment of an
office in the community of Qumran, which padded out the traditional task
of Torah administration and jurisprudence at the temple with new content,
namely the interpretation of the Torah of Moses and the prophets. This modi-
fied form of Maier’s hypothesis should first be tested on the texts before it can
be historically evaluated.

Offices in S and D

Let us begin with an overview of the (idealistic or realistic) social structure in

the sectarian writings and the rule texts, Serekh ha-Yaḥad (S) and Damascus
Document (D) in particular.18

17  Sylvie Honigman, Tales of High Priests and Taxes: The Books of the Maccabees and
the Judean Rebellion against Antiochus IV, Hellenistic Culture and Society (Oakland:
University of California Press, 2014); Reinhard G. Kratz, Historical and Biblical Israel: The
History, Tradition, and Archives of Israel and Judah, trans. Paul Michael Kurtz (Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 2015).
18  For a quick orientation, see James H. Charlesworth, “Community Organization in the Rule
of the Community,” EDSS 1:133–36.
522 Kratz

In the final version of S (1QS) we observe a strict hierarchy. On the top there
are the priests (‫הכוהנים‬, “sons of Zadok,” “sons of Aaron”); they are followed by
the elders (‫ ;הזקנים‬1QS 6:8) or the Levites (‫ ;הלוים‬1QS 2:20); finally there are the
other members of the community (‫)היחד‬: the “Many” (‫)הרבים‬, the “council of
the community” (‫ )עצת היחד‬or—according to the self-designation—the whole
people of Israel. This structure did not fall from the sky but has its history in
the different literary strata of the writings. A tendency towards the authority of
priesthood can be observed in the development from the short versions of S in
the manuscripts of 4QS to the full version in 1QS19 and from S to D.
Besides these status groups there are certain offices: ‫משכיל‬, “wise one” or “in-
structor”, ‫ המבקר‬and ‫“ האיש הפקיד‬the overseer”, ‫“ האיש שואלה‬the investigator”.
The meaning and function of these offices are not evident in all cases. Here
too, we have to take the literary history and stratification of the texts into ac-
count. However, it appears that the “overseer” and the “investigator” had more
administrative duties, such as finances, discipline, seating order and the direct-
ing of meetings, whereas the ‫ משכיל‬was responsible for internal knowledge of
the community and maybe its teaching.
Nearly the same terminology also occurs in D. Here, however, it is much
more elaborated and other terms are added; the authority of the priesthood
is greatly stressed. The evidence suggests that D presupposes S and is a sort
of rewriting of the earlier rule text.20 The same holds true in regard to scrip-
tural references, which are increasingly used in D in order to give the rules of
the community a “biblical,” i.e. historical and eschatological framework. These
changes fit the development of the self-understanding of the community,
which defines itself initially (in the oldest versions of S) as a “community” in
Israel and finally (in the later strata of S as well as in D) as the representation
of (the biblical) all Israel.
The same development can be observed in regard to the study of Torah.21
In S we find the rule that among the assembly of ten men at least one person
must study the law day and night: ‫איש דורש בתורה יומם ולילה‬.22 The formula-
tion does not suggest a specific office or a priest. It is just said that at least one

19  See Sarianna Metso, The Textual Development of the Qumran Community Rule, STDJ 21
(Leiden: Brill, 1997).
20  See Reinhard G. Kratz, “Der ‘Penal Code’ und das Verhältnis von Serekh ha-Yachad (S)
und Damaskusschrift (D),” RevQ 25 (2011): 199–227; Annette Steudel, “The Damascus
Document (D) as a Rewriting of the Community Rule (S),” RevQ 25 (2012): 605–20.
21  See also Steudel, “The Damascus Document (D) as a Rewriting of the Community Rule
(S),” 616.
22  1QS 6:6, om. 4QSd; see also 1QS 5:11: ‫דרש בחוקיהו‬/‫בקש‬.
The Teacher of Righteousness and His Enemies 523

person has to study and interpret the Torah day and night as do the “Many” for
a certain part of the night.23 It is only in a rather later stratum of 1QS (8:11–12)
where we find the expression “the man who searches (Torah)” (‫)איש הדורש‬,
which seems to designate a specific person or function. Still, neither a nor the
“Teacher of Righteousness” is mentioned (yet) in S.24
D goes a step further. Here (as in 1QS 8) the one who is searching “in the
Torah day and night” (1QS 6:6) has definitely become a specific functionary:
“the one who is searching the Torah” (‫)דורש התורה‬.25 Furthermore, D adds the
“Teacher of Righteousness” in addition to the ‫דורש התורה‬. The transition can be
observed in CD 6. Here, the “one who searches the Torah” is mentioned for the
present time (CD 6:7), whereas in CD 6:11 a or the “Teacher” is announced for
the “end of the days.” The Hebrew expression ‫ יורה הצדק‬can be interpreted syn-
tactically in two ways: 1) ptc. qal + accusative-object “someone who teaches the
righteousness”; 2) ptc. qal in the construct state “the Teacher of Righteousness”
or “the righteous teacher.” The announcement replaces or prepares for the ex-
pectation of a future “interpreter of the law” (‫)דורש התורה‬, which we find in
4Q174. Both figures, the “interpreter of the law” and the “Teacher” represent
God himself who gave the law and is himself designated as “teacher” in CD 3:8
(in parallel “their creator”).

The “Teacher” in the Damascus Document

Focussing on the “Teacher” we first examine the evidence in D. Here, the

“Teacher” occurs only in two of the four introductory admonitions, namely in
the second (CD 1) and in the fourth admonition (CD 2:14–8/19–20). The admo-
nitions seem to be in large part reformulations of the introduction and frame
of S (5:1–7a; 1–4 and 8–11).26 Here are just two details: both admonitions intro-
duce the “actions of God” as the main topic.27 This topic is also mentioned in
S. According to S the “actions of God” are to be recited as part of the ceremony
of the covenant.28 In D the “actions of God” are actually recited and explicated
and related to the end of time. Furthermore, both admonitions of D add the
new term “Teacher of Righteousness” in addition to the expression “interpreter

23  1QS 6:4, 7: ‫ ;לדרוש משפט‬see also 1QS 8:24.

24  On this, see Davies, “Communities at Qumran and the Case of the Missing Teacher.”
25  C D 6:7; 8:18 and parallels in 4QS; see also 4Q159; 4Q174; 4Q177; and CD 14:7–8.
26  See Steudel, “The Damascus Document (D) as a Rewriting of the Community Rule (S).”
27  C D 1:1–2; 2:14–15.
28  1QS 1:19, 21; 10:17; see also CD 13:7–8.
524 Kratz

of the law” which already occurs in S. In both respects, D seems to be a comple-

tion of S.
However, the differences in terminology and content have to be taken into
account. They suggest that the term and the figure of the “Teacher” had a his-
tory in D itself.
CD 1, the first reference to the “Teacher” in the second admonition presents
him as a historical figure in the time after the Babylonian exile, 20 years after
establishing (a forerunner of) the community. Thus, he is a founding figure of
the past or of the present. However, the text speaks of a, not the “Teacher
of Righteousness” (‫)מורה צדק‬. The title, by the way, coincides with the super-
scription of this second admonition: “And now, listen, all those who know
righteousness.” This is a quotation from Isa 51:7 where those who know righ-
teousness are also called “people of my law”; in CD 1 the community of those
who know the Torah and righteousness are called the “(shoot of the) planting”
which, again, is a quotation from Isa 60:21 (and 1QS 8:5).29
The second reference to the “Teacher” is CD 6:6 in the fourth admonition
(based on 1QS 5:1–7a and 6:6) and is announcing a or the future “Teacher.” The
expression (‫ )יורה הצדק‬is different, and so we have to take the possibility into
account that the two references in CD 1 and 6 do not mean the same and pos-
sibly do not stem from the same hand. The relationship is not easy to explain.
The formulation in CD 6:11 is less precise than in CD 1. In CD 6 the grammar
is not clear; either the participle qal of the root y-r-h or a sort of nominal de-
viation (yōreh) is used.30 In CD 1, in contrast, the more natural term ‫מורה צדק‬
is used, which is clearly a (non-determined) construct formation. If we may
suggest a development from the unusual to the usual expression, CD 6 seems
to be the point of departure for the title. As we will see later, the title seems to
be generated by an exegesis of Hos 10:12, and this too speaks for CD 6 as the
starting point. Nevertheless, the two references do not exclude each other.
They suggest that there should be a “Teacher of Righteousness” or “righteous
teacher” (a special sort of “interpreter of the Torah”) from the beginning of the
community until “the end of the days.”
In any case, nothing in CD 1 or 6 points to an individual and exceptional
founding figure of the community. Rather, both references suggest a function
and several individuals functioning as “Teacher of Righteousness.” Only CD 1
historicises the “Teacher,” but it is exactly this passage which does not speak
of the but of a teacher!

29  These quotations fit very well with the much disputed similarities between the “Teacher”
in the Scrolls and the “Servant of the Lord” in Second Isaiah. On this see, for instance,
Collins, “Teacher and Servant.”
30  Both forms are not attested in Biblical Hebrew, the latter only for the homonym “early rain.”
The Teacher of Righteousness and His Enemies 525

The other references in the fourth admonition (CD 20) occur in the con-
text that is in parts only attested in manuscript B of the Cairo Genizah. The
two paragraphs—beginning with manuscript A 7:6b–8:21 and continuing in
B 19–20—are dealing with the life “in the camps.” Both paragraphs seem to
be secondary in the fourth admonition, but in any case they certainly do not
form a literary unity but were supplemented successively.31 What is significant
here is the correlation between the past and the present, which suggests a con-
tinuation from the biblical (sacred) history to the actual community as well as
within the history of the community (representing the “camps of Israel”). The
existence of a figure called the “Teacher” is not introduced but presupposed.
Two references, however, are exceptional in terminology and content: CD
19: 35–20:1 and 20:14. Here, two different derivations of the root y-r-h are used
as in CD 1 and 6: the noun mōreh as in CD 1 (20:1 ‫ )מורה היחיד‬and the participle
qal or nominal derivation yōreh as in CD 6 (20:14 ‫)יורה היחיד‬. The terminology
does not seem to be fixed yet. The corrections at the transition from pages 19
to 20 show how the term mōreh (as the standard term in CD 1; 20:28, 32 and
the pesharim) developed from yōreh that was corrected by the scribe. The cor-
rections could represent the starting point for the usual terminology, but they
could also be motivated by this terminology in a later state.
The two references have one thing in common: the addition ‫ היחיד‬in the con-
struct formation ‫ מורה היחיד‬or ‫“( יורה היחיד‬the unique teacher” or “the Teacher
of the Unique”). Usually, here as well as in 20:32 (‫ )אנשי היחיד‬the expression
‫ היחיד‬is emended and read as ‫היחד‬. The conjecture suggests an original expres-
sion “the Teacher of the Community” which fits the scholarly narrative about
the “Teacher” as founding figure very well. Taking into account that it is a me-
diaeval manuscript and that the problem also occurs (without mentioning the
“Teacher”) with the expression “men of the Unique” in 20:32, this conjecture
is certainly a possibility. However, it remains a fact that the term ‫היחד‬, which is
frequently attested in S and the pesharim occurs nowhere else in CD. The usage
of this term in this context and the title “the Teacher of the Community” would
be an exception.
However, the expression “the unique teacher” or “the Teacher of the Unique,”
too, is an exception that occurs nowhere else. Maybe this is connected with the
further particularity of these two references that only here we find the idea that
the “Teacher” was “gathered” (‫)האסף‬, which I, with the majority of scholars,
understand in the way that he passed or will pass away.32 This event is taken as

31  C D 20:14 looks like a Wiederaufnahme of 19:35–20:1a; 20:1b is a new beginning; there are
numerous repetitions and variations.
32  There are several other ways to interpret the term, but I think we can remain with the tra-
ditional understanding, see Gen 25:8, 17. For the discussion, see Wacholder “The Righteous
526 Kratz

the point of departure for calculating the years until the end of time until the
coming of the Messiah and the end of all people of the “Man of the Lie.” Here,
scholarship usually thinks of the death of the actual founding figure.33
It is, however, not clear how to understand the two passages exactly. The ad-
dition “the unique,” the correlation of past and present, and the conflict with
the “Man of the Lie” (20:14–15; see also 1:14) which is reminiscent of the pe-
sharim, could, indeed, speak for the one and only “Teacher,” i.e. the or a found-
ing figure of the community, maybe a historical person who—like Jesus—did
not know what would happen one day and what would be ascribed to him. A
man who impressed his group and after he passed away was chosen and inter-
preted as a founding figure. However, the passages can also be read in a differ-
ent way. They could be related to an actual “Teacher,” one last figure in a series
of teachers, as the starting point for the calculation of the “end of the days” in
CD 19:35–20:1 which was updated once again in 20:13–15. This reading would
suggest not just one founding figure, but a series of “teachers” in the commu-
nity. Both readings are possible and, in historical terms, not improbable.
The two following references in CD 20:28, 32 mention the “voice of a/the
Teacher of Righteousness” (‫)קול מורה צדק‬. Again, both readings—the voice of
the one and only teacher, or the voice of any teacher—are possible. But in
my opinion the second reading (the voice of any teacher) is more probable.
The contrast is between the wicked (those who entered the covenant but
transgressed the law and the wicked of Judah) and the righteous ones (those
who entered the covenant and kept the law) in past and present until the end
of time. Thus, it is not at all clear whether the righteous ones, i.e. the mem-
bers of the community and inhabitants of the “camps,” heard only the voice
of the actual founding “Teacher” in the past or any teacher in past and pres-
ent. The expression is used without a definite article, and the tempus is not
fixed to the past. The formulation recalls CD 3:8 where it is said that the for-
mer generations in the history of Israel did not hear the voice of their “teach-
er” and “creator” God himself. Here, in CD 20, the “voice of a/the Teacher of
Righteousness” represents the voice of God for the community until the end of
time. It is not said that there was or is only one “Teacher.”

Teacher in the Pesherite Commentaries” and The New Damascus Document: The Midrash
on the Eschatological Torah of the Dead Sea Scrolls. Reconstruction, Translation and
Commentary, STDJ 56 (Leiden: Brill, 2007), 240–41.
33  He would have arisen 20 years after the end of the exile and passed away 40 years before
the expected “end of the days.” The number 40, however, is only given in the second refer-
ence, 20:15, which seems to be an addition and a more precise calculation.
The Teacher of Righteousness and His Enemies 527

The Origin of the Title

Before we turn our attention to the pesharim, let us briefly consider the ques-
tion where the term “Teacher of Righteousness” does come from. We have seen
that the figure is introduced twice in CD 1 and CD 6; in CD 20 he is not intro-
duced, but his existence is already presupposed. Furthermore, we have seen
that in CD 6 the (future) “Teacher” complements the “interpreter of the law”
(‫)דורש התורה‬. Therefore, CD 6 could be the place where the “Teacher” was in-
troduced first.
The expression in CD 6 (‫ )יורה הצדק‬points in the same direction. As is well
known, the expression is obviously inspired by two passages in the proph-
ets, Hos 10:12 and Joel 2:23.34 Both prophetic oracles are announcements
for the end of time and promise salvation using the metaphor of “early
rain” (yōreh or mōreh), which is a homonym meaning both “early rain” and
“teacher.” Furthermore it should be noticed that both prophetic oracles use
a derivation of the word for “justice, righteousness” (‫ צדק‬or ‫)צדקה‬. The clos-
est parallel is found in Hosea: “Sow righteousness for yourselves . . . for it is
time to seek the Lord, until he comes and showers his righteousness on you”
(‫ ועת לדרוש את יהוה עד יבוא וירה צדק לכם‬. . . ‫)זרעו לכם לצדקה‬. Here, the root y-r-h is
used in a verbal form (hiphil impf.) and means: “and he will let rain righteousness
on you.” In CD 6 the same root is used as a participle (qal) or a noun and means
“one who teaches the righteousness.” Similarly Joel 2:23 states that God has
given “early rain in righteousness” (‫)כי נתן לכם את המורה לצדקה ויורד לכם גשם מורה‬.
This seems to be the point of reference for CD 1:11 where we find the “Teacher
of Righteousness” (‫)מורה צדק‬.
Both prophetic oracles are taken up by the community and are related to
its present situation, as it will become the rule in the pesharim for all pro-
phetic oracles, mediated by the “Teacher of Righteousness.” After all this, it
seems to be obvious that at least the term or title “Teacher of Righteousness”
(and probably also the figure) is a literary construct inspired by two scriptural
(prophetic) references.
Furthermore, it seems that the reinterpretation of the homonym y-r-h from
the two prophetic oracles as “teacher” is also inspired by a scriptural reference,
namely the saying about Levi and the Levites in Deut 33:9–10 where we read:
“Your precepts alone they observed and kept your covenant. They shall teach
your laws to Jacob and your instructions to Israel. They shall offer you incense to
savour and whole-offerings on your altar.” For the expression “they teach your
laws to Jacob” the hiphil of the root y-r-h is used (‫;יורו משפטיך ליעקב ותורתך לישראל‬

34  See, for instance, Jeremias, Der Lehrer der Gerechtigkeit, 312–13.
528 Kratz

4Q35 reads ‫יור‬, perhaps for the sg. ‫)יורה‬. This expression supports the idea of
identifying the “interpreter of the law” (‫ )דורש התורה‬who teaches the law in
continuation of God, Moses and Ezra35 with a “teacher” (‫ )יורה‬like Levi and
calling him—following Hos 10 and Joel 2—“Teacher of Righteousness.”
4Q174 and 4Q175 show that this saying about Levi in Deut 33 was of great
importance for the Qumran community. In 4Q175 this passage is quoted in
combination with the announcement of a prophet like Moses in Deut 18 (and
Exod 20 according to Reworked Pentateuch and Samaritan Pentateuch and the
announcement of the Messiah in Num 24. In this quotation, however, an inter-
esting variant occurs. According to 4Q175 the Levites are not “teaching” (‫ )יורו‬as
in MT but “illuminating” the people with the law (‫)ויאירו‬. This variant seems to
have been widespread. It also occurs in the Greek version of the laus patrum
of Ben Sira where the Levi’s saying is also quoted: καὶ ἐν νόμῳ αὐτοῦ φωτίσαι
Ισρααλ.36 The preserved Hebrew version of Ben Sira, however, reads neither
‫ יורו‬nor ‫ויאיר‬/φωτίσαι but the usual word for “learning” and “teaching” l-m-d in
the piel (‫)וילמד‬. The Masoretic reading ‫( יורו‬with the homonym y-r-h hiphil) is
all the more significant. It provides the key for the interpretation of the “early
rain” in Hos 10 and Joel 2 as the “teacher” in CD 6. All the other references to the
“Teacher” that introduce the figure (CD 1) or presuppose him and ascribe in-
dividual (personal) features to the figure (CD 20) are dependent on this scrip-
tural exegesis. They are literary constructions of both the title and the figure.
So, we may—following Maier—indeed accept that there has been an of-
ficial in the Second Temple, who was concerned with the administration of
“Torah,” and that this office might even have been designated with the expres-
sion ‫דורש התורה‬. However, designating this office with the title “Teacher of
Righteousness” seems to me most certainly to have been derived from the two
prophetic passages and—like the connection of the office with the Torah of
Moses—to have been an innovation of the community of Qumran.

The “Teacher” in the Pesharim

After having discussed the relevant passages in D and the scriptural origin
of the title we now turn our attention to the evidence in the pesharim (P).
Here, the development that started in D continues. The title is fixed. The
construct formation is clearly determined by the definite article. So here we

35  See Ezra 7:10 (‫)לדרוש את תורת יהוה‬.

36  Sir 45:17; cf. 24:32 about education (wisdom) = law in 24:23.
The Teacher of Righteousness and His Enemies 529

find “the Teacher of Righteousness” or “the righteous teacher” (‫)מורה הצדק‬.

Furthermore, three major changes are noteworthy.
Firstly, “the Teacher” progressively becomes an individual figure. He is said
to be persecuted. Already in D we find certain enemies of the “Teacher,” the
“Man of Scoff” who tells lies (CD 1:14; in the plural 20:11) and the “Man of the Lie”
with his peer group (20:15). In the pesharim these enemies are increasing im-
mensely. Instead of the “Man of Scoff” (‫ )איש הלצון‬in CD 1 we find a plurality of
“men of scoff” in CD 20:11 and in Pesher Isaiah;37 the expression is taken from
the book of Isaiah (Isa 28:14; also Prov 29:8). The “Man of the Lie” occurs again
in Pesher Habakkuk and Pesher Psalms.38 A new enemy arises with the figure
of the “Wicked Priest” in Pesher Habakkuk, a figure who also occurs in Pesher
Psalms and Pesher Isaiah.39 Whereas the “Man of the Lie” leads the people
astray and is the leader of the apostates, the “Wicked Priest” attempts to take
the life of the “Teacher” and his group but is also somebody who goes astray,
pollutes the sanctuary, and gets rich at the people’s expense.
Thus, the conflict between the community and other parts of the popula-
tion is getting more aggressive and becomes more personal. However, this does
not necessarily mean that the “Teacher” and his enemies are historical figures.
Following the Groningen Hypothesis, these figures are to be understood first
and foremost as stereotypes for certain positions; the “Man of the Lie” as a
stereotype of the apostates within the community, the “Wicked Priest” as a ste-
reotype of a corrupt priesthood at the Jerusalem Temple, and—likewise—the
“Teacher” as a stereotype of the right doctrine in the community. Presumably
or even probably there are concrete historical and individual experiences be-
hind these stereotypes and the depiction of their conflicts. But we are no longer
able to identify or differentiate individual events in these conflicts. They rep-
resent a general situation rather than single events or individuals. Therefore,
we find in the depictions of the conflict not only individuals but always a col-
lective; the singular ‫איש‬, “the man (of the lie),” or ‫הכוהן‬, “the priest,” can also be
interpreted in this way, as a designation of a collective. The same is true for the
actions of the enemies. They are not only directed against the “Teacher” but
also against the whole community, the people of Israel (Judah), or against any
single “righteous one.”40 The aggravation of the conflict in P also takes place
in respect to other groups (Ephraim = Pharisees, Manasseh = Sadducees) and

37  4Q162 ii 6, 10; also 4Q525 23 8.

38  1QpHab 2:1–2; 5:11; 4Q171 1–2 i 18; 3–10 iv 14.
39  1QpHab 1:13; 8:8; 11:4; 12:2, 8; 4Q171 3–10 iv 8 (cf. the “Wicked Man” in 1+2 ii 7–8!); 4Q163 30 3.
40  See 4Q171 3–10 iv 8.
530 Kratz

goes hand in hand with an intensification of an imminent eschatological ex-

pectation (Naherwartung).
The second major change in the profile of the “Teacher” in P correlates
with the aggravation of the conflict and with the intensification of the escha-
tological expectation. In contrast to the new enemy, the “Wicked Priest,” the
“Teacher” himself becomes a “priest” in Pesher Habakkuk and Pesher Psalms.41
In Pesher Habakkuk the identification is supplemented in a second interpre-
tation in col. 2:5–10, which is obviously a later addition to the text. The iden-
tification is made only indirectly by the depiction of the priest as the one to
whom God revealed the meaning of the prophets, which recalls the depiction
of the “Teacher” in col. 7. Pesher Psalms first speaks of “the priest,” and only in
the second passage identifies the priest with the “Teacher.” We get the impres-
sion that in both writings the “Teacher” should be secondarily identified with a
certain priest within the community. Nowhere else is the “Teacher” designated
as a priest. The role of interpreter of scriptures and priest is reminiscent of the
figure of Ezra in Ezra 7–8 and Neh 8.
Finally, the third major change is the fact that in P the “Teacher” (also as a
priest!) is no longer an interpreter and teacher of the law, but first and foremost
the interpreter of the prophets. God revealed (and will reveal?) to him the full
meaning of the prophetic oracles in other words, to whom and at what time
they are directed..42 As a teacher of law and the prophets he functions as a
mediator of salvation. He is the one who “builds the community” (4Q171 1+3–4
iii 16) and makes sure that the community will prevail in the coming judgement
(1QpHab 8:1–3). The double function of a teacher of law and of the prophets
comes very close to the depiction of the ideal scribe in Ben Sira 39.

Historical Reflections

What, after all, can be said from a historical perspective about the “Teacher”
and his enemies? If it is correct that we are not dealing with historical indi-
viduals but with literary stereotypes, then the question has to be put in a differ-
ent way. We have to ask about the historical circumstances and reasons for the
literary construction of such stereotypes.
The answer is quite simple for the “Wicked Priest” as a stereotype of the
Jerusalem priesthood. We know the historical background here quite well:

41  1QpHab 2:8; 4Q171 1+2 ii 18; 1+3–4 iii 15.

42  1QpHab 2:8–10; 7:5–6.
The Teacher of Righteousness and His Enemies 531

the conflict between Oniads, Tobiads, and other priestly families about the
access to offices and political power, as well as the role of the Ptolemaic,
Seleucid, and Roman governments in this political game. At least here we can
estimate what is behind the accusations in the pesharim. Also the growing in-
tensification and aggravation of the conflict is very understandable in view of
the political and economic development in Judah in the transitional period
between Ptolemaic and Seleucid rule and under the Seleucids. So it is very
understandable why the Groningen Hypothesis was restricted to the “Wicked
Priest” as a stereotype of the Jerusalem priesthood.
However, a similar scenario should be tested for the other figures. The “in-
terpreter of the law” and the “Teacher of Righteousness” are examples of the
biblical ideal of a pious, righteous scribe who—following Moses, the prophets,
and Ezra the scribe and priest—studies the Torah and the prophets and all the
other biblical and para-biblical writings day and night (cf. Ps 1:2). The “Teacher”
conforms to the ideal of a scribe described by Ben Sira around 190 BCE. It is
obvious that individuals, families, or communities who lived according to
this ideal got increasingly into dire straits during the 2nd century BCE under
Antiochus IV and also under the Hasmonean rule. In the course of time the
Qumran community had to struggle with opponents in their own group, not
only with “the others,” the non-believers outside and inside the people of
Judah (Israel), but also with opponents of their own kind: the Maccabees, who
fought for the Torah, and the Hasmonean rulers, who declared the Torah to
be the basis for their state and employed personnel, i.e. the proto-Pharisees,
for the interpretation of the law. Similarly to the Hasidim, the Qumran com-
munity may have sympathised with the Hasmonean elites in the beginning,
but at the end no longer accepted them and counted them among the non-
believers and apostates. The closer the positions were the more intensively was
the hostility felt.
In view of all this, the intensification of the conflict between the “Teacher”
and his group and their enemies is quite understandable. As a counterfigure to
the Jerusalem priesthood (the proto-Sadducees) and to the other interpreters
of the law at the Hasmonean court (the proto-Pharisees as long as they were
tolerated) the “Teacher” finds himself increasingly between the frontlines,
and is seen as suffering under his enemies. Among these enemies the “Man
of Scoff” and the “Man of the Lie” presumably represent those circles which
first sympathised with the Qumran community or were even members of the
community but decided after the Maccabean revolt to follow the Hasmoneans,
who provided them with labour and bread. The majority probably became part
of the groups of proto-Sadducees and proto-Pharisees from which the Qumran
community (the “Teacher”) split off. Thus, also for the internal enemies the
532 Kratz

historical circumstances and development in the late 3rd and 2nd centu-
ries BCE provide a reasonable scenario to explain the emergence of these
stereotypes.
What remains still unexplained, however, is the growing individualisation
of the stereotypes (“Teacher,” “Man of the Lie,” “Wicked Priest”), which can be
observed partly in the Damascus Document and more fully in the pesharim.
This phenomenon could be a literary strategy, but it could also be that there
are individual experiences or recollections of certain individuals behind this
tendency in the literature. I would like to leave this question undecided. We
cannot exclude the possibility that the literary evidence represents some sort
of historical or even individual experience of a human person. However, as I
do not see a way yet of providing it, neither should we exclude the possibility
that the individualisation is also a literary means to express the intensification
of the conflict between the different groups within Judean society.
Index of Ancient Sources

Hebrew Bible 12:9 381

13:3 380, 381
Genesis 14:19 474
1:2 484 14:22 474
1:3 481, 482, 484 16:3 381
1:26 476–78, 485 17:19–21 211
1:26–28 261 18:27 267, 271
1:27 474, 476, 479, 22:23 394
487, 488 23:19 403
1:28 476–78, 485 24:15 394
1:28–29 478 25:8 526
2:1–3 482 25:9–10 403
2:3 262, 264, 265, 26:34–35 176
274, 481 26:35 176
2:6–7 482 27:19–21 141
2:7 265, 266, 271, 27:33 183
474, 488 27:39–40 167, 176, 183
2:9 473, 480, 485, 28:1–2 394
487, 488 28:6–9 176
2:14–19 482 29:18–28 394
2:17 473 35:29 403
2:17–18 482 36 166, 169
2:18 485 36:1, 8, 19 172
3:1–2 482 36:2–3 176
3:5, 22 473 36:7–13 177
3:6 485 41:50–52 210
3:11–14 482 46:20 210
3:19 265, 268, 270, 48:5 210
271, 474, 475, 48:9–20 210
485 49:1 165, 166, 191
3:21 479, 480 49:3–4 164
3:22 436, 480 49:10 164, 169, 170,
4:19–24 374 191–93, 233
5:19–24 60 50:13 403
6:2 395 50:25 403
6:3 270, 476
6:5 261, 267, 479 Exodus
9:2 478, 479 2:5 190
9:20 405 3:14 467
10:14 376 6:20 398
11:11 383 11:5 195
11:29 374 12:29 195
12:1–13 379 12:43–13:7 179
534 Index of Ancient Sources

Exodus (cont.) 24:19–18 246

12:44–13:10 179 26:59 398
13:1–10 179, 279, 280 27:11 162
13:4–9 179 36:1–2 162
13:9–16 179 36:5–12 393
13:11–12 179 36:13 35
13:11–16 179
13:14–16 179 Deuteronomy
13:16 279 1:39 436, 491
13:19 403 1:41 198
17:8–16 173 2:2–8 169, 175
19:17 162 2:4–5 171
19:24 237 5:1–6 179, 280
20:7–12 179 5:1–14, 27–6:3 179
20:21 238, 244, 254, 5:7–24 179
273 5:22–6 179
24:10 484 5:23 299
25:9 466, 468 5:24 299
5:27–6:9 179
Leviticus 5:28–29 229, 237
6:20 398 5:29 237
15:14–15 162 5:33–6:5 179
19:1–4 162 6:4–9 179, 279, 280
19:9–15 162 6:5–6 179
19:23–25 405 6:6–7 179
20:13 162 6:8 279
20:18 259, 270, 271 10:12–11:12 280
22:23 303 10:12–11:17 179
24:20–22 162 10:12–11:21 179
27:33 487 10:14–11:2 179
10:17 447
Numbers 10:21 451
4:19 158 10:22–11:1 299
4:47–49 162 10:22–11:3 179
10:9 36 11:4–18 179
11:36 231 11:13–21 179, 279, 280
18:19 245 11:18 279
19:18 245 12:25 173
20:14–21 168, 175 14:3 31
20:18–21 168 14:22–26 405
22:1–25 204 17:18 195, 309
24:8–19 247 18:18–19 229, 236, 237
24:15–17 239, 243, 244, 18:19 229
254, 273 19:14 224
24:15–19 231, 233 21:3 403
24:17 231 25:17–19 173, 174
24:17–19 244, 245, 254, 25:18 174
257 25:19 166
24:18–19 245–48 26:5–10 88
Index of Ancient Sources 535

27:17 224 7:10–14 253, 254

30:19 447 9:25 140
32:1 447 19:36 486, 491
32:14–20 179 23:1 308
33:8–11 240, 243, 244,
256, 273 1 Kings
33:9–10 527 1:13 195
1:17 195
Joshua 1:20 195
1:8 429, 432, 435 1:24 195
4:18 153, 158, 160 1:27 195
4:19–5:1 160 1:30 195
4:20 160 1:35 195
4:24 160 1:46 195
5:1 160 1:48 195
5:2–7 153, 158, 160 2:12 195
5:2–7:20 158 2:19 195
6:26 56, 241–44, 247, 2:24 195
254 3:6 195
8:3–18 153 3:9–12 467
8:10–18 155 8:20 195
8:11 155 8:22–53 98
8:11–13 160 8:25 195
8:14–17 160 11:26 211
8:30–35 160 12:20 211
8:32 160, 309 16:11 195
9:2 160 17:18 195
10:11 190 22:10 195
13:19 211
15:10 190 2 Kings
16:17 211 10:30 195
11:19 195
Judges 13:13 195
6:2–6, 11–13 162 15:12 195
18:11 198 19:15 196
18:16 198 21:2 212, 213

1 Samuel Isaiah
1:9 195 1:1 436
4:4 196 4:2 193
4:13 195 6:1 195
8:12 198 7:1–17 211
15:1–9 173, 174 7:17 211, 221
31:12–13 403 8:1–2 37
8:19 428
2 Samuel 9:6 264
1:18 425 9:20 215
1:27 198 11:13 211
6:2 196 14:12 233
536 Index of Ancient Sources

Isaiah (cont.) 29:10–14 99

14:15 233 29:16 195
16:5 195 29:21 208
16:16 195 29:36 189, 204, 206
24:5 395 30:2 37
26:19 408, 409, 417 31:18–20 211
28:9–11 433 31:27 211
28:10 224 31:31 199, 211
28:14 224, 529 31:38 189, 198
29:16 265, 271 33:14–26 194
30:8 37 33:15 191, 193, 194,
30:9–11 222 208
30:10 222 33:17 189, 191, 193–97,
30:13 222 208
34:5–7 170 36:1–2 37
34:8 170 36:27–28 37
37:16 196 36:43 190
38:14 428 38:31 199
40:3 34, 87 48:45 234
40:14 425 49:7–22 170
41:14 417 49:16 170
45:9 265, 271 51:20 190, 197, 198
46:5 477
51:7 524 Ezekiel
59:21 435 1:10 447
60:19–20 484 2:9–3:3 37
60:21 524 4:4 496
63:10–11 39 4:5 519
66:15 305 13:10 223
66:20 302, 305 13:11 223
24:1–2 37
Jeremiah 25:8 211
1:3 206 32:7 233
5:7 188, 199, 201, 32:27 198
202 35 170
13:13 195 35:2–3 171
17:25 195 35:5 171
18:2–3 190 35:10 171
18:3–6 265, 271 36:17 259
18:18 188, 200, 201 37:15–16 37
22:1 190 37: 15–22 211
22:2, 4, 30 195 37:16 37
23:5 189, 193, 194, 38:17 35
197, 202, 203 44:15 36
25:11–12 97 44:23 486
27:34 206
28:35 189, 204, 206 Hosea
29:1–3 100 2:11 362
29:5–7 99 5:10 211, 224
29:8–9 99 5:11 224
Index of Ancient Sources 537

5:12–14 211 9:2 483

5:14 211, 219, 220 9:5 195
8:14 211 27:10 204
10:11–12 222, 223 47:9 195
10:12 222, 333, 524, 51:7 270
527 51:13 29, 39
11:1–12 211 78:67–68 211
80:2 196
Joel 89:23 253
2:23 527 92:7–8 470
99:1 196
Amos 103:14 265, 266
1:6–12 170 103:19–21 439
1:9–11 171 103:20–22 448
5:26–7 251 104:2–3 447
8:10 388 122:5 195
9:11–15 170, 252 137:7–8 171

Obadiah Proverbs
3–4 170 1:8 465
10–14 171 3:13 470
17 171 8:34 432
21 184 9:14 195
20:8 195
Micah 28:22 362
7:6 204 29:8 529

Habakkuk Job
2:2 37 4:17–21 267
2:5–6 295 4:18–19 269
2:6–20 295 4:19 268
2:12 220, 223 10:8–15 270
10:9 268, 271
Zechariah 10:9–12 270
3:8 193 12:5 483
7:12 35 14:1 267, 269
8:13 211 14:1–4 267
13:2 401 15:14 267
15:15–16 269
Malachi 25:2 477
1:1 35 25:5–6 269
1:2–5 170, 172 30:9 267, 268
3:16 436 30:19 271
3:18 486 33:6 265, 268, 271
34:15 268, 271
Psalms
1:2 429, 531 Song of Songs
1:3 470 3:6–8 249
1:4 470 4:4 249
8:7 477, 485 4:8 249
538 Index of Ancient Sources

Lamentations Nehemiah
1:18 101 1:4–11 98
5:19 195 8:8 435
8:14 35
Ecclesiastes 9:6–37 98
7:28 152 9:14 35
12:12 429–32 9:33 101
10:36–38 404
Daniel 12:44 404
1:4 425
2:22 130 1 Chronicles
2:23 130 12:34 198
2:27 128 13:6 196
2:33–46 123–32 28:5 195
2:39–40 11, 125, 127 28:11 467
2:40 125, 126, 127,
130 2 Chronicles
4:11 127 1:10–11 467
4:20 127 6:10 195
5:11 130 6:16 195
5:13 128 6:18 195
5:14 130 18:9 195
6:14 128 23:20 195
7:10 447 31:5–6 404
9 97–102 34:14 35
9:4–19 98 35:36 184
9:7 101
9:17 99
9:23 98
10:11 98 Jewish Apocrypha and
10:19 98 Pseudepigrapha
11:33 320
11:35 320 1 Maccabees
11:39 477 1:54–57 67
12:1–3 408, 409 11:31 309
12:2 409 12:7 309
12:3 320 12:9 21
12:10 320
2 Maccabees
Ezra 2:13–15 67
4:11 310 7 415
5:6 310 8:23 21
7:8 530
7:10 528 3 Maccabees
9:5–15 98 2:1–10 98
9:11 259
9:15 101 Tobit
14:22 66 1:3 361
Index of Ancient Sources 539

1:6–8 404 12:12–15 358

1:10 392 12:16–22 358
1:11–2 338 12:20 362
1:11–2:10 338 13:7 359
1:17–19 403 13:9–12 359
2:1–6 388 14:3–4 387
2:8 391
2:11 349 Sirach
3:1–6 98 Prologue 66, 95, 363
3:2 101 3:23 480
3:7 361 3:29 385
3:8 399 7:29 94
3:14–15 398 13:15 46
3:15 391, 393 14:12 480
3:16 343 14:20–15:10 94
3:16–17 343 15:9–10 94
4:3–4 403 16:24–17:14 484
4:6–5:9 338 16:27 484
4:12–13 392 17:1–14 17, 473
4:17 391 17:2, 4 476–81
5:1 351 17:7 473
5:9–6:8 338 17:11–12 481
5:10–13 393 17:25–29 94
5:12 393 21:15 94
5:17–6:12 338 24:23 528
6:2 352 24:31–33 92
6:3–5 352 24:32 528
6:6–7 399 25:24 476
6:9–17 351 30:11 477
6:12–14 393 31:21–32 94
6:13 393 33:20 477
6:15 392 38:24–39 91
6:16 392 39:5–6 91, 94
6:18 392 39:6–8 91
6:19 392 42:15–51:30 94
7:2 394 45:17 477, 528
7:11–14 356 46:20 480
8:7 392 47:19 477
8:19–21 356 47:20–21 211
9:5 357 48:25 480
9:6–11:15 338 49:8 480
11:13 359
11:14–15 358 Baruch
11:17–18 356 1:1–16 99
11:17–19 356 1:13 100
11:19 356 1:15–3:8 99
12:1 356 3:9–4:4 99
12:3 400 4:5–5:9 99
540 Index of Ancient Sources

Baruch (cont.) 7:13 376

4:25 99 7:14–16 383
4:36–37 99 7:35 405
5:4 99 8:1–4 317
8:11 376
Wisdom of Solomon 8:12 375
2:23 476 8:17–21 379
7:7 92 8:21 375
8:22 375
1 Esdras 8:26 375
4:45 184 10:8–9 400
10:12–14 400
4 Ezra 10:27–34 376
14:22–48 66 10:35–36 383
12:28 380
1 Enoch 13:8 380
1–36 400 13:10–12 380
1:5 127 13:11 381
6:6 376 13:15 381
10:4–5 400 13:16 380
10:4–8 400 13:26–27 404
16 400 20:1 176
22 408 23:31 408
69:11 476 25:1 176
74:12 405 25:12 176
91:10 408, 415 26:33 167, 176
102–104 408 30:8 397
102:5 415 32:15 404
103:4 408 44:24 210
104:2 415 47:1 403
106 395
106–107 376, 378, 395 Prayer of Azariah
106:13 395 1:35–65 448

Jubilees Joseph and Aseneth

2:13 296 21:9 210
2:14 477
4:15 375 Letter of Aristeas
4:23 376 46 21
4:28 382
4:30 482 Testament of Jacob
4:33 382 4:7–16 211
5:28 375
6:1 376 Testament of Solomon
6:32 405 18:38 145
7:1 375, 376, 378,
405
Index of Ancient Sources 541

Dead Sea Scrolls1 CD 4:6 31

CD 4:10–11 216
Aramaic Levi Document (ALD) CD 4:11 211, 215
11:1 398 CD 4:19–20 222–24
CD 5:7–8 394
Damascus Document (Genizah) CD 5:11 39
CD 1 518, 519, 523, CD 5:20 224
524 CD 6 518, 523, 524
CD 1:1–2 523 CD 6:5 211
CD 1:2 331 CD 6:6, 10–11 222, 524
CD 1:3–11 496 CD 6:7 523
CD 1:5–11 519 CD 6:11 333, 523, 524
CD 1:10–11 222 CD 6:13–14 35
CD 1:11 527 CD 6:17 486
CD 1:11–18 223 CD 6:19 198
CD 1:11–19 224 CD 6:20 525
CD 1:12 222 CD 7:4 39
CD 1:13 222 CD 7:6b–8:21 525
CD 1:14 224, 529 CD 7:11 221
CD 1:14–15 222, 219 CD 7:11–13 221
CD 1:15 222 CD 7:11–14 211, 221
CD 1:16 224 CD 7:14–15 252
CD 1:18 224 CD 7:16 252
CD 1:18–19 221, 222 CD 7:18–19 244
CD 1:19 223 CD 7:18–21 249–52
CD 1:20 525 CD 7:19 235, 252
CD 1:29 524 CD 7:19–21 232
CD 1:32 333 CD 7:20 234, 244
CD 2:11–13 181 CD 8:1–6 216, 224
CD 2:12–13 39 CD 8:3 211
CD 2:14 216 CD 8:12–13 222, 223
CD 2:14–15 523 CD 8:13 223
CD 2:17–3:4 181 CD 8:18 523
CD 3:8 523, 526 CD 8:21 198
CD 3:20–4:2 35, 36 CD 8:28 31
CD 4:3 211 CD 9:16 320

1  For 4Q171, 4Q174, and 4Q177, where relevant, an alternative fragment/column numbering is
provided alongside with that of the editio princeps (DJD 5). See Maurya P. Horgan, Pesharim:
Qumran Interpretations of Biblical Books, CBQMS 8 (Washington: The Catholic Biblical
Association of America, 1979), 192–226; Annette Steudel, Der Midrasch zur Eschatologie aus
der Qumrangemeinde (4QMidrEschata , b): Materielle Rekonstruktion, Textbestand, Gattung,
traditionsgeschichtliche Einordnung des durch 4Q174 (“Florilegium”) und 4Q177 (“Catena A”)
repräsentierten Werkes aus den Qumran funden, STDJ 13 (Leiden: Brill, 1994). In the case of
4Q171 (4QpPsa), some essays included in this volume cite only the column and line number
as given in Horgan’s edition, without mentioning the number of the fragments.
542 Index of Ancient Sources

Damascus Document (Geniza) (cont.) 8:18 375

CD 9:23 324 8:20 375
CD 10:1 525 10:13–17 376
CD 10:4–7 434 11:3 130
CD 10:13 16 12:4 375
CD 12:20 486 12:8–9 376
CD 13:2–4 434 12:9–12 376, 383
CD 13:7–8 523 12:13 375
CD 13:17 301 12:13–15 375, 405
CD 13:23–14:1 211, 221 12:13–16 378
CD 14:6–8 434 12:13–17 376
CD 14:7–8 523 13:9–11 127
CD 14:20 329 14:9–22 376
CD 15:8 325 14:11–17 376
CD 19:1 216 14:15–22 376
CD 19:13–18 216 16:3, 16 375
CD 19:15 211 16:9 375
CD 19–20 518 16:11 375
CD 19:24–26 222, 223 16:15 375
CD 19:33–34 198 17:7–8 375
CD 19:35–20:1 525, 526 19:9–10 380
CD 20 518, 525 19:10–20:33 377
CD 20:1–2 31 19:14–23a 377
CD 20:11 224, 529 19:15–16 127
CD 20:12 198 20:2–8a 177
CD 20:14 333, 525 20:12–18 401
CD 20:22–24 213 20:17–18 380
CD 20:28 526 20:20–29 401
CD 20:28, 32 525 20:34 381
CD 20:30–31 33
Hodayota (1QHa)
Cave 1 4:32  101
1QIsaa 54:2–3 305 5:31   260, 267
1QIsaa 54:9–10 305 5:32 266, 270
1QIsaa 54:10–11 302 6:12–13 39
7:14–17 297
Genesis Apocryphon (1QapGen ar) 7:26 266
1:10 395 8:27   101
2:3, 8 374 9:17–21  261
3:3 375 9:19–20 303
3–5 395 9:23 266
4:28 375 9:24 259
5:29 310 9:25 270
6:6 382 10:17 218
6:7 375 10:24 224
6:7–9 376 10:26 198
6:8–9 382 10:26 198
6:10 375 11:20–23 415
7:3 375 11:24–25 266
7:19 375 12 417–21
Index of Ancient Sources 543

12:6–13:6  16, 417 1:17 198

12:8 218 4:6 302
12:9–13 502 4:7 181
12:11 218 7:5–6 29
12:22–23 420 10:6–8 36
12:34–37 417 11:5–7 255, 256
13:8 261, 266 11:6–7 244–49
13:9 303 11:7 248
13:10 303 11:11 170
14:8 224 12:1 31
14:28 198 12:10–14 402
14:31 198 15:2 170
15:6 266 16:3 170
15:10 425 16:6 170, 198
15:14–15 303 16:8–9 170
15:16–19 266 17:1 198
15:37 224 17:6 484
16:6–7 482 17:12 198
16:12–14 29 24:18–19 246, 247
18:6 265, 268
18:8 265 Pesher Habakkuk (1QpHab)
18:14 265 1:13 529
18:20 483 2:1–2 529
19:13–16 416 2:3 189, 198, 199
19:14 259 2:5–10 295
19:23 261, 266 2:8–10 530
20:11–13 39 2:12 170
20:15 484 2:14 170
20:17–30 271 2:16 170
20:27 268 2:9 170
20:27–28 260 2:15 170
20:27, 29–30, 34 265 3:4 170
20:28 259, 270 4:5 170
20:28–29 265 4:10 170
21:9–10 267 5:8–12 510
21:10–11 266 5:11 529
21:29 266 6:1 170
21:30 266 6:4 198
21:36 259 6:10 170
22:8, 30 265 7:1 294
23:13–14 267 7:1–2 13, 14, 293, 295,
23:24, 29 265 303, 307
25:12 301 7:5–6 530
8:1–3 215, 295, 530
War Scroll (1QM) 8:8 529
1:2 170 8:8–13 498
1:4 170 10:5–10 220
1:6 170 10:9–10 223
1:9 170 10:10–11 224
1:12 170 11:4 529
544 Index of Ancient Sources

Pesher Habakkuk (1QpHab) (cont.) 7:2 324

11:4–8 510 7:3 324
11:12–15 499 7:8–8:12 303
12:2 529 7:10–11 324
12:4–5 216 7:11 324
12:8 529 7:12–14 325
12:9 211 7:14 323
7:15–18 326
Serek Hayaḥad (1QS) 7:16 324
1:3 319 7:19 324
1:10–11 473 7:19–20 303
1:12–13 31 7:21 78
1:19 523 7:22–24 328
1:21 523 7:24–25 328
2:2 439 8:5 34, 524
2:4–19 181 8:11 523
2:9 31 8:12–16 33, 35, 39
2:16 31 8:17 31
2:20 522 8:19 325
2:24–25 31 8:20–24 34
3:4 331 8:21 31
3:5 328 8:24 31, 523
3:7 39 9:2 31
3:13 486 9:3–4 39
3:17–18 261, 490 10:17 523
3:21–5 402 11:8 417
4:6–7 413 11:20 267
4:8 484 11:21 266
4:12–13 414 11:22 265, 268
4:23 261
4:25–26 17, 473, 489–90 Rule of the Congregation (1QSa)
5:1 296, 524 1QSa 1:6–9 16, 423–37
5:2 78 1QSa 1:10–11 17, 473, 482,
5:9 75 490–92
5:11 522 1QSa 2:8–9 29
5:13 31 1Q13 179, 284
5:18 31 1Q14 8–10 4–5 222
5:23 78 1Q15 5 211
5:23–24 81 1Q16 9–10 1, 4 170
6:2 81 1Q34+1Q34bis 3 i 4–5 487
6:4–6 299
6:6–7 432 Cave 3
6:7 78, 432 3Q15 12:10–13 317
6:8 522 3Q15 12:11 309, 317
6:20 78
6:24–7:25 321 Cave 4
6:25 324 4QGen-Exoda
6:27 324 (4Q1) 12–14 211
7:1 78 4QGenb (4Q2) 1 ii 482
Index of Ancient Sources 545

4QDeutc (4Q30) 5 3–5, 7 297 4Q129 284

4QGenf (4Q6) 1 211 4Q129 1 11–12 (recto) 299
4QGeng (4Q7) 482 4Q130 283
4QGenh 4Q8 482 4Q131 283
4QGenk (4Q10) 4 482 4Q132 283
4QGenk 5 482 4Q133 283
4QLevb (4Q24) 4Q134 284
9 i, 10–17 31–32 303 4Q135 1 i 13–14 304
4QDeuth (4Q35) 11:15 240, 241 4Q135 284
4QDeutj (4Q37) 3:12 237 4Q136 284
4QDeutj 3:13 229 4Q137 284
4QDeutj 4: 1–2 237 4Q138 284
4QDeutk1 (4Q38) 1:1–3 237 4Q139 284
4QDeutn (4Q41) 4: 1–3 237 4Q140 284
4QDeutn 6:1 229 4Q141 284
4QJosha (4Q47) 1 158–61 4Q142 284
4QJosha 5 152–58 4Q143 284
4QJoshb (4Q48) 2–2 3 300 4Q143 1 1–5 (recto) 299
4QSama (4Q51) 2:7 302 4Q144 284
4QIsaf (4Q60) 3–6 13 300 4Q145 283
4QJera (4Q70) 12:4–5 200 4Q146 283
4QJera 12:11 302 4Q147 283
4QJerc (4Q72) 25:1–2 193 4Q148 283
4QPsd (4Q86) 1:6–7 300 4Q158 6 7–9 238
4QCanta (4Q106) 2 249 4Q161 8–10 3, 5, 7–8 170
4QCanta 3 249 4Q161 8–10 22 193, 197
4QCantb (4Q107) 2 i-ii 249 4Q162 1:4 300
4QCantb 3 249 4Q162 2:6 224
4QQoha(4Q109) 4Q162 2:6, 10 529
1 ii+3–6i 1–2 305 4Q163 1 4 198
4QLam (4Q111) 2:1 300 4Q163 4 6 215
4QDna (4Q112) 3 ii, 4Q163 23 ii 10 218
4–6 7–9 127, 129 4Q163 25 1 198
4QDnb (4Q113) 7 ii 13 131 4Q163 25 3 190, 198
4QDnb 14 1a 131 4Q163 30 3 529
4QDne (4Q116) 100–103 4Q167 2 2–3 211, 220
4QDne 4+2 1, 4 131 4Q167 2 3 220
4QDnf (4Q116a) 123–32 4Q167 15+16+33 ii 1–2 211
4Q169 1–2 3 170
Miqṣat Maʿaśe ha-Torah (4QMMT), 4Q169 3–4 i 3 170
Composite Text. See also 4Q394–399 4Q169 3–4 i 6 212
B 3–5 404 4Q169 3–4 i 7 218
B 62–64 405 4Q169 3–4 i 1–8, 10–12 219
B 63–64 404 4Q169 3–4 ii 1–2 210, 218–20,
B 75–77 397 224
C 10 66 4Q169 3–4 ii 2 212
4Q169 3–4 ii 4 218
4Q128 284 4Q169 3–4 ii 8 212, 219
4Q128 1 26–27 299 4Q169 3–4 iii 3 218
546 Index of Ancient Sources

4Q169 3–4 iii 3–8 219 4Q184 1 17 218

4Q169 3–4 iii 4–5 212, 217, 219 4Q185 1–2 ii 14 218
4Q169 3–4 iii 6–8 219 4Q196 2 4 300
4Q169 3–4 iv 1 216 4Q196 4 i 4 391–92
4Q169 3–4 iv 5 211, 216, 213 4Q196 6 11–12 394
4Q171 1–2 i 16 (1–10 i 24 4Q197 4 i 13–19–ii 1–6 393
[Horgan]) 211, 216, 219 4Q197 4 ii 8 130
4Q171 1–2 i 18 4Q197 4 iii 4–5 394
(1–10 i 26 [Horgan]) 219, 529, 530 4Q197 14 ii 10 392
4Q171 1–2 i 18–19 4Q201 1a-b 7 127
(1–10 i 26–27 [Horgan]) 220 4Q202 1 iv 5 130
4Q171 1–2 ii 7–8 530 4Q203 8 3 310
4Q171 1–2 ii 13 4Q213a 1 17 402
(1–10 ii 14 [Horgan]) 211 4Q216 6:4 300
4Q171 1–2 ii 13–14 4Q216 6:12 300
(1–10 ii 14–15 [Horgan]) 216 4Q216 7:2–3 477
4Q171 1–2 ii 13–15 4Q221 1 5–7 299
(1–10 ii 14–16 [Horgan]) 216 4Q247 1 6 170
4Q171 1–2 ii 17 4Q249 1–4 9a, 9b i, 12 5 190
(1–2 ii 18 [Horgan]) 212, 216 4Q252 1:1–4:3 191
4Q171 1–2 ii 17–19 4Q252 4:1–3 164, 165, 167,
(1–2 ii 18–20 [Horgan]) 216 169, 171, 173,
4Q171 1+3–4 iii 12–13 175, 177, 179,
(1–10 iii 12–13 [Horgan]) 216 181, 183
4Q171 1+3–4 iii 15 530 4Q252 4:2 166
4Q171 1+3–4 iii 16 530 4Q252 4:3 166, 191
4Q171 3–10 iv 7–8 4Q252 4:5 191
(1–10 iv 7–8 [Horgan]) 500, 510 4Q252 5:1–5 192, 193
4Q171 3–10 iv 8 529 4Q252 5:1–6 166
4Q171 3–10 iv 14 529 4Q252 5:2 189, 191, 193–97,
4Q174 1–2 i 1–2 253 208
4Q174 1–2 i 11 4Q252 5:3 189, 194
(3:11 [Steudel]) 189, 193, 202, 4Q252 5:3–4 193, 194, 202
252, 253 4Q252 5:5 166, 191
4Q174 1–2 i 12 250, 252 4Q253 1 i 4 486
4Q174 1–3 ii 3 132 4Q256 9:1 296
4Q174 6 3–7 240 4Q258 1:1 296
4Q175 226–57 4Q258 1:2 78
4Q175 9–13 12 4Q258 2:7 81
4Q175 27 211 4Q259 1:13 323
4Q177 1–4 10–12 4Q263 3 81
(10:10–12 [Steudel]) 181 4Q263 7:2 81
4Q177 9 4 4Q266 1a-b 22–23 267
(9:12 [Steudel]) 218 4Q266 2 i 14–15 222
4Q177 10–11 5 4Q266 2 i 21 218
(9:5 [Steudel]) 252, 253 4Q266 2 i 21–22 221
4Q177 12–13 i 1 4Q266 2 ii 12–13 181
(11:6 [Steudel]) 188, 201 4Q266 3 ii 7–8 224
4Q179 2 8 300 4Q266 3 ii 13–17 222
4Q182 1 5 188, 201, 202 4Q266 3 ii 23 486
Index of Ancient Sources 547

4Q266 3 iii 19 252 4Q287 3 446

4Q266 3 iii 20 300 4Q287 6 446
4Q266 3 iii 20–21 232 4Q287 10 13 39
4Q266 9 iii 6 301 4Q300 3 2 486
4Q266 3 iii 20–22 249 4Q303 1–14 473, 482–85,
4Q266 9 iii 17–18 211, 221 492
4Q266 10 i-ii 321 4Q328 1 4 302
4Q266 10 ii 5–7 324 4Q332 3 2 170
4Q266 10 ii 7 324 4Q339 117, 182, 189,
4Q266 10 ii 9–12 325 203–6, 208,
4Q266 10 ii 14–15 326 441
4Q266 10 ii 15 324 4Q341 11, 117, 133–51
4Q266 11:5 328 4Q364 12 1–3 211
4Q266 11:10–11 304 4Q364 8a 177
4Q266 11:15 298 4Q364 14 162
4Q266 1a-b 267 4Q364 23a-b i 1–6 175
4Q267 1 5 262, 267 4Q365 12b iii 7 301
4Q267 2 4 224 4Q366 2 116
4Q267 2 13 222 4Q367 3 10 487
4Q267 9 iv 321, 328 4Q370 1 ii 4 487
4Q267 9 v 2–4 211, 221 4Q379 22 ii 13 211
4Q268 1 17 222 4Q379 22 ii 7–15 241–44
4Q268 11 i–ii 321 4Q381 1 447
4Q269 10 ii 6–7 211, 221 4Q381 24 5 211
4Q269 3 1–2 223 4Q381 69 4 39
4Q271 1 2 224 4Q385a 17a-e ii 3 482
4Q271 4 ii 4 301 4Q385b 1 308
4Q278 3 2–4 447 4Q390 1 11 402
4Q285 3 4 170 4Q394 3–7 405
4Q285 4 5 170 4Q394 3–7 ii 15, 17 320, 405
4Q285 7 3–5 193 4Q394 8 iv 10 30, 320
4Q286 1 439, 449–52 4Q400 2 1–2 297
4Q286 1a, ii, b 1–13 442–43 4Q401 14 i 7–8 297
4Q286 1a i 8 445 4Q402 4 8 198
4Q286 1 a ii, b 4 446 4Q403 1 448
4Q286 1 a ii, b 5 446 4Q403 1 i 36–37 428
4Q286 1–3 439 4Q403 1 i 42 30
4Q286 2 439 4Q403 1 ii 1–16 450
4Q286 3 439 4Q405 20 ii–22 4–5 297
4Q286 5 452–53 4Q414 2 ii+4 1 33
4Q286 5a-c 1–13 444 4Q416 1 15 486
4Q286 5a-c 8 445 4Q417 1 i 487, 491
4Q286 5–6 439 4Q417 1 i 6 306, 436
4Q286 7 439 4Q417 1 i 6–8 487
4Q286 7 a i, b-d 7 445 4Q417 1 i 8, 18 486
4Q286 7 a ii, b-d 1, 5, 10 445 4Q417 1 i 13–18 436
4Q286 7 a ii 446 4Q417 1 i 14 306
4Q286 9 3 445 4Q417 1 i 16–18 261
4Q286 12 446 4Q417 1 i 17–18 436, 464
4Q287 2b 446 4Q417 1 i 27 306
548 Index of Ancient Sources

4Q417 1 ii 20 306 4Q543 5–14 402

4Q417 2 i 5 301 4Q544 1 7–9 398
4Q417 2 i 13, 15 306 4Q544 1 10–15 402
4Q418 1a-c 7 486 4Q544 2–3 402
4Q418 9 8–10 299 4Q545 1 398
4Q418 2a-c 7 486 4Q545 1 a i 1 309
4Q418 43–45 306 4Q545 1 i 5–8 398
4Q418 43–45 i 4 436 4Q545 4 16 30
4Q418 55 9 432 4Q546 1 398
4Q418 1a 486 4Q547 1 2 4–5 398
4Q418 2a-c 7 486 4Q547 1–2 10–13 398
4Q418 69 ii 10–14 431–32 4Q547 9 8 312
4Q418 69 ii 14 484 4Q548 1 ii-2 14 130, 398
4Q421 304 4Q550 6 7 310
4Q421 1a ii-b 8–9 304
4Q422 1 10 482 Cave 5
4Q423 1 2 478 5Q8 283
4Q423 2 i 7 486
4Q427 8 i 6–9 297 Cave 6
4Q429 4 ii 12 198 6Q15 1 1–2 223
4Q434 1 i 1–2 297 6Q15 3 2–3 224
4Q434 1 i 10–11 304
4Q434 2 2–3 447 Cave 8
4Q437 1 1–2 297 8Q3 283–84
4Q460 8 4 198 8Q4 179
4Q465 1 3 310
4Q491 11 ii 5, 21 198 Cave 11
4Q491 13 5 198 Psalms Scrolla (11Q5; 11QPsa)
4Q503 11 4 301 11QPsa 19:15 402
4Q504 1:6 478 11QPsa 27 38–39
4Q504 17:8 195 11QPsa 27:4–6 405
4Q504 19:4–5 101
4Q508 1 1 487 Temple Scrolla (11Q19; 11QTa)
4Q509 97–98 i 3 301 11QTa 33:7 30
4Q511 28–29 3 265 11QTa 43:4–10 405
4Q511 28–29 4–6 260, 268 11QTa 48:7 31
4Q511 63–64 ii 2 483 11QTa 56:20 195
4Q511 126 2 267 11QTa 56:21 309
4Q512 64 6 33 11QTa 58:5 301
4Q521 14 2 487 11QTa 59:14, 17 195, 196
4Q524 6–13 1 195 11QTa 60:2–3 404
4Q525 23 8 529 11QTa 60:3–4 405
4Q530 2 ii+ 6–12 22 130 11QTa 60:3–6 30
4Q536 2 ii 12–13 318 11QTa 60:6 404
4Q542 1 i 2 301 11QTa 66:15–17 394
4Q542 1 ii 9–13 313
4Q542 1 ii 12 313 11Q1 3:6 301
4Q543 1 5–8 398 11Q1 6:9 301
4Q543 4 3–4 398 11Q12 5 3 482
Index of Ancient Sources 549

11Q14 1 i 11 193 13.388 499

11Q17 7 6–8 297 15.371–379 500
11Q20 4:9 296 18.11 214
11Q20 5:9 296 18.16–17 58

Against Apion
1.39–40 46
Texts from Other Cites 1.37–43 66
in the Judean Desert 2.204 148
2.211 403
Mur 4 283
Mur 10A 143 Life
Mur 10B 143 10 214
Mur 11 143
Mur 41 143 Philo
Mur 73 143 Contempl. Life 25–29 66
Mur 74 143 Spec. Laws 1.131–144 404
Mur 78 143 Creation 134 475, 488
Mur 79 143 Moses 2.74 468
Mur 88 viii 26–27 250, 252 Leg. 1.101–104 476
Mur 95 143 QG 1.45 476
Mur 122–132 143 QE 2.52 468
34Se 1 283
XHev/Se 5 283
DSS F133 (APU 3) 297 New Testament
DSS F.Gen1 (4Q[?]
GenMiniature Luke
[Gen 36:7–16]) 164–84 4:40 401
XQ1 284 24:44 66
XQ2 284
XQ3 284 Acts
XQ4 283 15:16 253

Romans
Ancient Jewish Writers 1:2 21
3:10–18 272
Josephus 9:25–29 272
Jewish War 11:33–36 272
1.78–80 212, 500 11:8–19 272
1.98 499 12:19–20 272
2.119 214 15:9–12, 11–13, 15–21 272
2.155 412
2.160–161 392 1 Corinthians
2.163 412 3:19–20 272
15:44 415
Jewish Antiquities 15:45–49 475
13.171 214
13.311–313 212, 500 2 Corinthians
9:9–10 272
550 Index of Ancient Sources

Colossians Yerushalmi
1:15 475 y. Ber. 1, 3c 280
y. Ḥal. 1, 57b 51
Galatians y. Meg. 1:9, 71c 48
4:27–30 272 y. Pesaḥ. 8:8, 36b 160
y. Qidd. 1, 59a 48
2 Timothy y. Šabb. 1:2, 3b 433
3:15–16 21 y. Sanh. 28:1 430
y. Taʿan. 4:2 55

Midrashim
Rabbinic Works Gen. Rab. 7:2 51
Gen Rab. 8:11 475
Mishnah Gen. Rab. 67:2 183
m. Avot 1:4 427 Gen. Rab. 75:9 183
m. Šabb. 13:1 21, 433 Lev. Rab. 21:1 266
m. Šabb. 16:1 433 Mek. de Rashbi,
m. Sanh. 10:1 430 Jethro 28 403
m. Taʿan. 2:1 51 Sifre Num. 112 51
m. Yad. 3:2 21 Sifre Deut. 356 55
m. Yad. 3:5 21 Tanḥ. (Buber), Ḥuqqim 6
m. Yad. 4:6 21
Other
Tosefta Mas. Sop. 6.4 55
t. Nid. 4:10 51 Mas. Tep. 9 279
t. Šabb. 16:1 21 S. ʿOlam Rab. 11 160
t. Yad. 2:13 46

Bavli
Early Christian Writings
b. B. Bat. 14–15 35
b. B. Bat. 14b 46
Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 4.26 46
b. B. Qam. 2b 51
Irenaeus, Haer. 47
b. B. Qam. 92b 46
Justin, Dial. 71–73 17
b. Ber. 28b 425
b. Ḥag. 10b 51
b. Meg. 3a 48, 49
b. Meg. 7a 46
Greco-Roman Literature
b. Meg. 10b–17a 46
b. Menaḥ. 34a–37b,
Quintilian, Inst.
42b–43b 279
1.1.25 147
b. Qidd. 49a 48
1.1.30 147
b. Roš Haš. 7a 51
1.1.37 147
b. Sanh. 96a 426
10.2.2 147
b. Yebam. 71b 160
Index of Subjects

Aaron 148, 204, 220, 398, 430, 434, 484, 522 Apocryphon of Jeremiah C 402 n. 73
Abecedary 141–46, 148, 150, 151 Attending angels  266
Abram, Abraham 15, 59, 73, 167, 184, 375, 4QBerakhota 439 and n. 4, 446 nn. 19
377, 379–81, 396, 401, 403 and 21, 447 nn. 22 and 25, 458
Achiab 205 Dualism 261 n. 10
Adah 176, 374 n. 11 1 Enoch 376 n. 13, 395 nn. 48, 49, 476
Adam 261, 475, 476, 480, 482, 485, 488, 498, Fellowship with  260, 416, 422
516, 520 Genesis Apocryphon 375, 377, 395
Adelphia 140 Humans transformed into angelic
Adelphios 140 glory 270
Adephi 137 4QInstruction 464, 468, 488
Admonition 115, 166, 167, 182, 320–22, Names of 151
331–33, 523–25 Never exhausted in seeking truth 432
Adultery 201 Tobit 343, 352, 353, 358, 359, 362, 363,
Afterlife. See also Immortality, 393, 399, 400
Resurrection 16, 232, 407, 408, 412, 413, “Vision of Hagi/u” 436
415, 419, 422 Anointed 39, 181
Ahab 205, 206 Antediluvian(s) 315, 317, 395, 396 n. 52
Ahiqar 349, 364, 365, 387 Enoch and Noah  102
Ai 137, 139, 153, 161, 381 Anthropology
Akiva, Rabbi 44, 45, 430, 431 Negative anthropology in Hodayot  13,
Ali 137, 139 258–74
Allusions Antiochus IV Epiphanes 96, 184, 531
To Jeremiah in DSS 187–208 Antiquarianism
In Hodayot 258–74 Ancient scribes 309, 314, 315, 318
Alphabet 11, 134, 138, 141–46, 148, 149, 151 Apocalypse
Altar 173, 527 Apocalyptic interpretation of Esau’s
Amalek, Amalekite(s) 164–69, 171, 173–75, lineage 183
177, 179, 181, 183, 184 Book of Daniel 96
Amram 14, 15, 308–10, 312, 313, 398, 402, 403 Genre 69
Amriel 137, 139, 140 Jacob’s blessings 164
Amulet Sefer Eliyyahu 61
4Q(?)Genesis Miniature 11, 164–84 Sefer Zerubbavel 61
4Q339 182 n. 52 Apocrypha, deuterocanonical writings.
Alphabet  145, 146, 151 See also Canon, canonization
Mezuza  180 Council of Trent  52
Tefillin (phylacteries)  180 Jewish Apocrypha in Middle
Anasanos 137, 139 Ages  365–66
Ancestors 94, 174, 317, 376, 383, 398, 402, “Outside books” (sefarim ḥiṣonim) 45,
403, 418 48, 49
Amram’s burial of 398, 402, 403 Apologetics
Esau and Amalek as symbols of Genesis Apocryphon 376
Rome  174, 175 Apotropaic
Angel(s). See also Demons, demonology 34, Rituals 401
97, 343, 352, 353, 358, 359, 363, 393, 399, Use of alphabet 11, 145–46, 151
400, 463 4Q(?)Genesis Miniature as apotropaic
“Angels of error” 269 amulet 11, 166, 177–80
552 Index of Subjects

Aqila 138 Bethuel 398
Aquila 48 n. 10, 56 n. 17, 474 Bilhah 167
Aramaic Levi Document (ALD)
Affinities with the book of Tobit  389, Cain 509, 513
394, 398, 405 Cainan 317
Qumran copies of  396 n. 54 Calendar
Archaic, archaizing 354-day 15, 30, 60, 113, 405 and n. 86
Language 366 Canaan (person) 383
Paleography 314, 315, 316 n. 42 Canaan, Land of 15, 168, 173, 175 n. 24, 176,
Archive(s) 379, 380, 381, 398, 402, 403
Allegro Qumran Photographs 5 Canon, canonization. See also Apocrypha,
Reed Collection of Dead Sea Scrolls 5 Enoch, First book of
William H. Brownlee  1, 5 As a theological construct 50
Archon Canonical lists 45, 46
Michael 145 Council of Trent 52
Arina 137, 139 DSS 54–68
Ark of the Covenant 159, 467 1 Enoch 59, 60
Ark, Noah’s  372 Rewritten Bible 61–64
Aseneth 210 Theological vs. functional canons 43
Asmodeus 386, 392, 393, 399, 400 Cherubim 196, 442
Assanos 139 n. 16 Chronology
Assinos 139 n. 16 Dating the Teacher of
Assurbanipal 314 Righteousness 495–97, 519
Athbash 138, 147, 149, 151 In Jubilees and Genesis Apocryphon 15,
Athos, Mt. 375, 379–82
Manuscripts from 396, 398 Circumcision
Autobiography Joshua circumcising Israelites 160 n. 26
Teacher Hymns (Hodayot) as  500, Cognitive approaches
504–505 Mechanisms and ritual 439, 455, 456,
Autograph 458
4Q339 313 Psychology and dittography 298, 307
In the Teacher Hymns (Hodayot)  504 State of a reader  512 and n. 50
Azariah (book of Tobit) 352, 400 n. 67 Colophon. See also Scribe 90, 313–17
Copying. See also Scribe
Balaam  204 In ancient Mediterranean and Near
Oracles of  169, 170, 226–57 East 308–18
Baruch (scribe) 90, 104 Line-by-line copying in DSS 13, 14,
Basmat 176 293–307
Bat Qol 49 Process of copying as evidenced by
Batenosh 372, 374, 375, 378, 382, 384 DSS 73, 77 and n. 42
Beis[ai] 137, 139 Creation
Belial 241 n. 50, 402 n. 73, 439, 440 n. 5, 441, DSS 481–92
457 4QInstruction  471
Ben-Basri 137, 139 Philo 469
Ben Sira, book of. See also Creation, Prayer Sirach 473–81
In rabbinic literature 46–47
Beni  139, 139 Daliyi 137, 139
Bethel 204, 380, 381 Damascus Document (CD)
Index of Subjects 553

Holy spirit 39 Education. See also Literacy, Memorization,

Oral divine revelation 36 Pedagogy, Reading, Teacher
Rebuke 78 n. 48 Ancient 146–50, 423–37
Relationship to S 319–33 Egypt
Scriptural allusions 12, 202, 210, 213, 216, Abram’s sojourn in Jubilees and Genesis
221–25, 249–53 Apocryphon 377, 379–82, 401
Teacher of Righteousness 17, 495, 496, Amram’s journey 398
501, 516, 517, 521, 523, 532 Import of papyrus from 77
Textual growth 14, 319–33 Moses leaving 15, 403
The Book of Hagi/u 424, 491 Temple in Leontopolis 521
Tithe of the cattle 404 Wisdom 461, 466
Daniel, book of Election
Afterlife 408–10, 415 Divine 31, 167, 169, 171, 181
Aramaic  373 Eliezer (ben Hyrcanos), Rabbi  426, 427,
In DSS 10, 123–32 431
4QPseudo-Daniela–c Elihu 265, 268
(4Q243–245) 100–103 Eliphaz 164, 261, 268
Newly identified 4QDnf (4Q116a) 11, Emotion(s)
123–32 Emotion studies and the Teacher of
The nature of 4QDane (4Q116) 100–102 Righteousness  494–514
Daniel (figure) Emzera 375, 382
Prophet 36 Endogamy 15, 343, 365, 390–92, 394–96,
Visionary and maskil 90, 96–97 398, 399
Scribe 104 Enoch, First book of. See also Canon,
Darius 184 canonization
David 191, 193, 196, 233 n. 16, 466, 467 Afterlife 408, 410, 411, 415
“Booth of David” 250 DSS 112 n. 29, 115 n. 44, 116
“Shoot of David”  192, 196, 197, 199, 203 Canonicity 59 and n. 25, 60, 61
Deletion. See also Scribe 364-day calendar  405
DSS  293, 303 Endogamy  15, 394 and n. 45
Demon(s), demonology. See also Noah’s birth 395
Angel(s) 15, 145, 343, 348, 354, 355, View of the past 316
376, 390, 391, 393, 399, 400, 401, 402 Enoch (figure)
Dittography. See also Scribe Earthly sojourn 376
DSS 14, 181, 251 n. 76, 293–307 Noah and Enoch as antediluvian
Divination 116 figures 102
Pesharim as a “scribal divination”  Noah’s birth 378
38 and n. 71 Prophetic commission  60
Divine Scribe  310
Voice in DSS 35–38 Ephraim
Dualism 15, 167, 258, 261, 399, 401, 402 Sobriquet 12, 209–25, 529
Light and darkness 261 n. 10, 410, 414 Error(s). See also Scribe
Scribal 14, 240, 242, 251 n. 76, 293, 294,
Ecclesiastes, book of 298, 299, 300, 302, 304, 305, 323, 355
Canonical status 44, 45 n. 4, 49 Esau 11, 164–84, 211, 235, 246, 247, 248, 403
Edom, Edomites Eschatology 16, 196, 202, 203, 216, 243, 244,
In the Hebrew Bible and DSS 164–184, 249 n. 71, 407, 414, 415, 424, 484, 530
233 n. 16, 234, 235, 245–48 Amalek 11, 164–84
554 Index of Subjects

Eschatological Teacher of Righteousness  Giants, book of 59 n. 25, 310

516 and n. 4, 518 Gnosticism 44, 47
Realized eschatology in Hodayot 417–20 Graffiti
Evil As a writing exercise 148
Evil inclination 259, 261 and n.11, 266 n.
20 Hagi/Hagu, book of 16, 306, 423–37
Knowledge of good and evil 11, 436, 464, Halakhah 14, 320, 390, 404, 405, 406, 437
473–92 Ham 376, 383, 396
Excerpted texts Hananiah 142
DSS  155–63, 225–57, 277–92 Hananiah, son of Azur 204, 206
Exogamy 392, 395–97, 399 Harmonization 288, 289, 291, 292, 324, 474 n. 2
Exorcism 116, 401, 457 Hasidim 518, 531
Expulsion Hasmoneans. See also Maccabees 86, 89, 183,
Of evil 401 294 n. 7, 409 n. 8, 427 n. 16, 518, 521, 531
Yaḥad 78, 328 Hebron 380, 381, 398
Herculaneum
Festival(s) 30, 81, 88 n. 12, 366, 388 n. 14, 405, Graffiti at  148
443, 450, 451 Heresy 47
Folklore Herod the Great 196
Book of Tobit 14, 334–67, 387 Hilkos  137, 139
Hirqanos 137, 139
Gabiel 347, 350, 351, 354 n. 91, 356 Holiness 22, 29, 31, 34, 267, 396, 422, 442,
Gabriel 97, 140 443, 450, 468
Gadi 137, 138
Genesis Apocryphon Identity
Affinities with Tobit 394–405 Amalek and community identity 165,
Affinities with Jubilees 371–84 181–83
Sectarian halakhah 405 Messianic identity of the Teacher 333
Genizah Prayer as shaping 87–89
Cairo 95, 301 n. 26, 337, 338, 396 and “Sacred” as identity marker 31
n. 54, 405 n. 86, 426, 430, 431 n. 25, 473, Teacher of Righteousness 495, 500, 505,
525 507, 519
Qumran caves as 56, 111 n. 28 Immortality. See also Afterlife, Resurrection 
Genre 411–15, 476 n. 10
And folklore 344, 347 Intermarriage 383–84
Autobiography 504 Intertextuality 8, 100, 258–74
Confessional prayer  98 Ishmael 167, 184, 211 n. 3
Maʿaseh 362, 365
Pesher 499 Jacob 164, 166, 167, 169–72, 176, 183, 184, 191,
Piyyut as a priestly genre  46 n. 7 210, 211, 213, 223, 233–35, 239, 242, 245,
Rewritten Bible  53, 227 246, 248, 251, 252, 255, 256, 394, 403,
Sectarian rules 69, 70 417, 527
Text participating in multiple Jamnia, Synod of. See also Yavneh 45 n. 4
genres 227, 465 Jannaeus, Alexander 499, 500
Usefulness of classification  460 Japheth 376, 383
Victory hymn 244 Javan 378, 383
Wisdom  461 Jesus 87, 146, 499, 500, 502, 504, 526
Index of Subjects 555

Johanan, Rabbi 183 Map

Jordan In Jubilees and Genesis Apocryphon 
Crossing of 159, 163 375 n. 12, 376, 378, 379, 384
Joseph (figure) 210, 211, 403 Maqliah 137
Joshua (figure) 11, 152–63, 173, 239, 242, Marriage 343, 356, 359, 376, 382, 383, 389,
243 391–400, 465, 491
Jubilees, book of Mashal 184, 470
And Genesis Apocryphon 371–84 Maskil, maskilim 13, 39 and n. 78, 40, 41, 96,
Judas Maccabaeus 67 98, 99, 103, 113, 117 n. 50, 260, 261, 265,
Jupiter Dolichenus 145 267, 268
Masorah 46 n. 6, 47
Kittim 169, 170, 245 Massah 173
Knowledge of good and evil Matrimony 398
Early Jewish literature 473–92 Mebaqqer 320, 331
Koliah 205, 206 Medicine
4Q341 133–51
Laban 394 Tobit 399, 400
Labippas 137, 139, 147, 151 Megalagos 137, 140
Lamech 374, 378 Membership
Leukippos 139 Sectarian community  80 n. 59, 81, 332
Levites 36, 320, 331, 404 and n. 82, 434, Memorization. See also Education, Scribe
435 n. 36, 522, 527, 528 Of texts 271, 425, 441
List(s) Meneas 137
4QBerakhot 11, 438–58 Mephibosheth 137, 139
Canonic lists 43 n. 3, 44, 45, 46 and Messiah 192, 193, 197–99, 202, 203, 233,
nn. 5–7, 47, 49, 56, 65, 67 235 n. 23, 239, 244, 333, 500, 526, 528
Of Esau’s descendants in 4Q(?)Genesis Metaphor(s) 95, 265, 479, 480, 511, 527,
Miniature 7, 177–80 Resurrection as 407–22
Literacy. See also Education, Teacher 37 Metathesis 487 n. 45
n. 68, 69–82, 138, 145, 147, 314 Methuselah 395
Liturgy. See also Prayer 10, 29, 30 n. 40, 31, Mezuza 161, 179, 180, 277 n. 2, 278, 290
83–104, 115, 339 n. 19, 416 Miqveh 142
Lubar, Mt.  372, 375 and n. 12, 384 Miriam 162, 398
Mlkyh 135
Maccabees. See also Hasmoneans 67, 80, Mnws 135
519, 521, 531 Moab 169, 233 n. 16, 234, 235, 239, 245, 247,
Machpela, Cave of 403 251 n. 79, 255, 256
Magic Moses 17, 34–36, 58, 59 n. 25, 60, 96, 159, 164,
As a category 44 166, 168, 171, 173, 229 n. 8, 238, 239, 243,
Genesis Apocryphon  401 and n. 71 280, 319, 377, 398, 403, 463, 466, 468,
4Q(?)Genesis Miniature 7, 177–80 469, 475 n. 6, 484, 520, 521, 528, 531
Tobit 344 n. 48, 352–54, 399 n. 65 Mourning 183, 414
Use of alphabet 11,134 and n. 10, 145, Mysticism 134, 146, 422, 447, 461, 462, 505
151 Merkavah 447
Magnos  137, 139
Maḥtos 137, 139 Nahor 394
Malkiah 137, 139 Nakedness 259, 270, 271, 325, 348
556 Index of Subjects

Naphtali, tribe of 346 Qahat 309, 313, 397

Noah 102, 167, 184, 310, 372, 375–78, 382, 383, Qoph[i] 137, 139
395, 396, 400, 405, 482 Qumran, Kh.
Nomistic Cave 4 105–19
Exegesis 160, 163 Archaeology of  105–109
Function of 109–11
Oholibamah 176 Manuscripts found in 112–19
Omission. See also Scribe 228, 277, 291–93, Quotation(s) 35, 36, 46 n7, 47, 48 n. 10, 53,
346, 492 60, 66, 271, 295, 428, 475 n. 9, 477, 480,
Oniads 521, 531 492, 524, 528
Onomatopoeia 224 n. 58 Balaam’s oracle in DSS 226–57
Oracle From Jeremiah in DSS 12, 187–208
Balaam’s 169–70, 226–57
Orthography. See also Scribe, Writing Reading, See also Education, Pedagogy
Tefillin (phylacteries) 282–84 Practices in antiquity 362 n. 129, 423–37
Book of Hagi/u 423–37
Paideia 94, 96, 424 n. 4 Rebecca 176, 394
Palimpsest 143 Resurrection. See also Afterlife,
Paradise 473–92 Immortality 407–22
Patriarch(s) 12, 15, 60, 167, 182, 184, 209, 210, Reuben 164, 167, 210
212, 215, 225, 312, 313, 355, 363, 374, 382, Reuel 343, 353, 356
390, 392, 394, 396, 398, 402, 406 Revelation
Pedagogy. See also Education, Reading, As wisdom 92
Teacher 16, 90, 95 Continuing revelation in
And the Book of Hagi/u 423–37 Christianity 39–40, 52, 53
Peshitta 49, 56, 309 In a textualized form 21–41
Pharisees 45 n. 4, 84 n. 4, 86, 214, 219 n. 38, Knowledge of good and evil 473, 480,
412, 414, 529, 531 481, 487, 492
Piety 17, 85, 272, 385, 395, 396, 408, 531 Oral Torah as a continuing revelation  51
Plagues 400, 401, 414 Sinai revelation 459
Prayer. See also Liturgy 10, 83–104, 243, 245, Text as a locus of 32–33
305, 339, 343, 349, 354, 355, 358, 363, Through the study of the Torah 96
391–93, 397, 400, 401, 402 n. 73, 441 n. 11, Rewritten Bible 11, 24 n. 13, 25 n. 17, 53, 54,
469, 486, 487, 503, 504, 506 61–64, 86, 163, 227, 473
4Q116 100–103 Canon 61–64
Baruch 99–100 Relation to Scripture 61–64
Daniel 96–99 Rhyx Autoth 145
Sirach 90–96 Ritual 16, 25 n. 17, 27 n. 26, 28, 30, 31, 88 n. 12,
Predestination 261, 266, 343 161, 166, 179 n. 37, 267, 269, 401, 424, 425,
Prooftext 167 512
Prophecy 33 n. 53, 34, 36 n. 65, 39 and n. 76, 4QBerakhota (4Q286) 438–58
43 n. 3, 50, 61, 66, 93, 97, 99, 170, 171, 233, Rule texts 69–82, 319–33
272, 343, 359, 433, 465, 466, 520
Prophet 17, 34–37, 58, 60, 66, 87, 92, 97, 100, Sadducees 86, 209, 214, 215, 529, 531
172, 182 n. 52, 200, 201, 203, 206, 226, 229 Sacred
n. 8, 237–39, 243, 250, 255, 256, 268, 392, Concept of  25–28
398, 418, 433, 451, 469, 496, 515, 518, 521, DSS 28–32
528, 530 Saḥerah  137, 139
Pseudepigraphy 66, 308–18 Samaritan
Index of Subjects 557

Proto- or pre-Samaritan texts 13, 281 Carnal/fleshly spirit 464, 468, 469, 486,

Samaritan Pentateuch 71, 86, 178, 231, 488, 489
237 n. 12, 334 Demonic 400, 401
Samaritans Flesh and spirit in Hodayot 270, 306
Canon 48, 49, 58 n. 21 Heavenly beings 440 n. 5, 446 n. 19
Sarai, Sarah 15, 73, 374, 375, 379–82, 401, Hodayot 260–63, 266 n. 20
403 Holy spirit  29, 34, 35, 38–40, 66, 181
Sarah (book of Tobit) 15, 340, 343, 348–59, Philo 471
391–94, 399, 400 Resurrection  408
Scribe. See also Colophon, Copying, Deletion, Spirit of understanding  91, 92
Dittography, Error, Memorization, Two Spirits Treatise 258, 263, 319, 413,
Omission, Orthography, Writing 11, 415, 489, 490
14, 17, 38, 78, 90–92, 95, 99, 100, 134, 135, Syllabaries 147, 148 n. 90, 149, 150
137, 149–51, 156, 161, 163, 194, 203, 226, Synoptic Gospels 63, 87
236, 237, 240, 245, 247, 251, 284, 294–96,
298, 300, 302–7, 310, 314, 325, 446, 447, Tabernacle 466–68, 488 n. 48
525, 530, 531 Tanais 380
Scribal practices 293–318 Targum 48 n. 10, 49, 115, 233 n. 16, 309, 479
Copying  293–318 Teacher. See also Education, Literacy,
“Copy” (‫ )פרשגן‬308–18 Pedagogy
Dittography 298–307 Education in antiquity 146–51, 421–37
Seer 39, 421, 501 Teacher of Righteousness 14, 17, 37, 209, 212
Seir 169, 171, 234, 246, 247 n. 66, 248 n. 17, 215, 216, 217, 222, 259 n. 5, 266 n.
Seleucids 96, 184, 315, 519–21, 531 20, 332, 333, 418 n. 45, 469–532
Shalmaneser 347 Tefillin (phylacteries) 13, 88 n. 13, 108, 161,
Shamash Temple (in Sippar) 116 227, 228, 277–92
Shem 376, 378, 383, 400 Theoriqos 137
Shemaiah 204, 206 Theoriqos 139
Shiraḥsi 137, 139 Thersias 139 n. 17
Simon Maccabeus 242, 499 Thersis 137, 139
Sinai, Mt. 60, 280 n. 9, 371, 459 Timnah 164, 166
Sobriquet Tithe 30, 346, 350 n. 74, 362, 363, 404, 405
“Doers of the Law” 216 Tobi (book of Tobit) 340, 343, 346–52,
“Ephraim” and “Manasseh” 209–25 357–59, 363, 391, 392, 394, 397, 398, 400,
“Judah” 209–18, 221, 223–25 402, 404, 405
“Man of Scoffing” 219 Tobiah/s 142
“Man of the Lie” 216, 219, 220 Tobiah (book of Tobit) 15, 340, 343, 346,
“Princes of Judah” 216 350–60, 363, 391–94, 399, 403
“Seekers of the Smooth Things” 209–25 Tobit, book of 334–370, 385–406
“Simple of Judah” 217 Affinities with DSS Aramaic
“Spouter of the Lie” 219 writings 385–406
“Wicked of Ephraim and As folktale 340–44, 387 n. 12, 403 n. 77
Manasseh” 216 Burial practices 402, 403
“Wicked of Judah” 216 Demonology 399–401
“Wicked Priest” 209, 516 DSS 387
Sola Scriptura  50 Dualism 401, 402
Solomon 91, 98 n. 31, 211, 466, 467, 486–88 Endogamy 391–99
Soul 266, 350, 412–16, 468, 475 n. 4, 488 Folklore studies 334–70
Spirit Greek manuscripts of 388
558 Index of Subjects

Tobit, book of (cont.) Writing. See also Orthography, Scribe

Medieval manuscripts of  334–70 4Q341 as writing exercise 133–51
Sectarian halakhah 403–5
Yiddish lore 365–67 Yasisi 137, 139
Tyrqws 135 Yavneh. See also Jamnia, Synod of 44, 45, 47,
67
Ushola  137, 139 Yitar 137, 139
Uthraith 137, 139
Uziel (Visions of Amram) 398 Zacchaeus (Infancy Gospel of Thomas) 146
Zadok 36, 522
Vision 60, 97, 170, 211, 233, 234, 239, 255, 306, Zakariel 137, 138, 140
312, 316, 350, 402, 409, 418, 447, 450 n. Zedekiah 205, 206
35, 451, 467, 488 Zillah 374 n. 11
Visionary 96, 97, 409, 447 n. 25 Zion 99, 170, 184
Visions of Amram Zodiology 115
Affinities with the book of Tobit  Zoḥel  137, 139
385–406 Zoleph 137, 139