Author G. K. Chesterton “loved the Book of Job”

“The first of the intellectual beauties of the book of Job is that it is all concerned with this desire to know the actuality; the desire to know what is, and not merely what seems”. Introduction to the Book of Job The modern habit of saying, "This is my opinion, but I may be wrong" is entirely irrational. The book of Job is among the other Old Testament books both a philosophical riddle and a historical riddle. It is the philosophical riddle that concerns us in such an introduction as this; so we may dismiss first the few words of general explanation or warning which should be said about the historical aspect. Controversy has long raged about which parts of this epic belong to its original scheme and which are interpolations of considerably later date. The doctors disagree, as it is the business of doctors to do; but upon the whole the trend of investigation has always been in the direction of maintaining that the parts interpolated, if any, were the prose prologue and epilogue, and possibly the speech of the young man who comes in with an apology at the end. I do not profess to be competent to decide such questions. But whatever decision the reader may come to concerning them, there is a general truth to be remembered in this connection. When you deal with any ancient artistic creation, do not suppose that it is anything against it that it grew gradually. The book of Job may have grown gradually just as Westminster Abbey grew gradually. But the people who made the old folk poetry, like the people who made Westminster Abbey, did not attach that importance to the actual date and the actual author, that importance which is entirely the creation of the almost insane individualism of modern times. We may put aside the case of Job, as one complicated with religious difficulties, and take any other, say the case of the Iliad. Many people have maintained the characteristic formula of modern skepticism, that Homer was not written by Homer, but by another person of the same name. Just in the same way many have maintained that Moses was not Moses but another person called Moses. But the thing really to be remembered in the matter of the Iliad is that if other people did interpolate the passages, the thing did not create the same sense of shock as would be created by such proceedings in these individualistic times. The creation of the tribal epic was to some extent regarded as a tribal work, like the building of the tribal temple. Believe then, if you will, that the prologue of Job and the epilogue and the speech of Elihu are things inserted after the original work was composed. But do not suppose that such insertions have that obvious and spurious character which would belong to any insertions in a modern, individualistic book . . . Without going into questions of unity as understood by the scholars, we may say of the scholarly riddle that the book has unity in the sense that all great traditional creations have unity; in the sense that Canterbury Cathedral has unity. And the same is broadly true of what I have called the philosophical riddle. There is a real sense in which the book of Job stands apart from most of the books included in the canon of the Old Testament. But here again those are wrong who insist on the entire absence of unity. Those are wrong who maintain that the Old Testament is a mere loose library; that it has no consistency or aim. Whether the result was achieved by some supernal sprirtual truth, or by a steady national tradition, or merely by an ingenious selection in aftertimes, the books of the Old Testament have a quite perceptible unity. . . The central idea of the great part of the Old Testament may be called the idea of the loneliness of God. God is not the only chief character of the Old Testament; God is properly the only character in the Old Testament. Compared with His clearness of purpose, all the other wills are heavy and automatic, like those of animals; compared with His actuality, all the sons of flesh are shadows. Again and again the note is struck, “With whom hath He taken counsel?” (Isa. 40:14). “I have trodden the winepress alone, and of the peoples there was no man with me” (Isa. 63:3). All the patriarchs and prophets are merely His tools or weapons; for the Lord is a man of war. He uses Joshua like an axe or Moses like a measuring rod. For Him, Samson, is only a sword and Isaiah a trumpet. The saints of Christianity are supposed to be like God, to be, as it were, little statuettes of Him. The Old Testament hero is no more supposed to be of the same nature as God than a saw or a hammer is supposed to be of the same shape as the carpenter. This is the main key and characteristic of Hebrew scriptures as a whole. There are, indeed, in those scriptures innumerable instances of the sort of rugged humor, keen emotion, and powerful individuality which is never wanting in great primitive prose and poetry. Nevertheless the main characteristic remains: the sense not merely that God is stronger than man, not merely that God is more secret than man, but that He means more, that He knows better what He is doing, that compared with Him we have something of the vagueness, the unreason, and the vagrancy of the beasts that perish. “It is He that sitteth above the earth, and the inhabitants thereof are as grasshoppers” (Isa.40:22). We might almost put it thus. The book is so intent upon asserting the personality of God that it almost asserts the impersonality of man. Unless this gigantic cosmic brain has conceived a thing, that thing is insecure and void; man has not enough tenacity to ensure its continuance. “Except the Lord build the house, they labor in vain that build it. Except the Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh but in vain” (Ps. 127:1). Everywhere else, then, the Old Testament positively rejoices in the obliteration of man in comparison with the divine purpose. The book of Job stands definitely alone because the book of Job definitely asks, “But what is the purpose of God? Is it worth the sacrifice even of our miserable humanity? Of course, it is easy enough to wipe out our own paltry wills for the sake of a will that is grander and kinder. But is it grander and kinder? Let God use His tools; let God break His tools. But what is He doing, and what are they being broken for?” It is because of this question that we have to attack as a philosophical riddle the riddle of the book of Job. The present importance of the book of Job cannot be expressed adequately even by saying that it is the most interesting of ancient books. We may almost say of the book of Job that it is the most interesting of modern books. In truth, of course, neither of the two phrases covers the matter, because fundamental human religion and fundamental human irreligion are both at once old and new; philosophy is either eternal or it is not philosophy. The modern habit of saying “This is my opinion, but I may be wrong” is entirely irrational. If I say that it may be wrong, I say that is not my opinion. The modern habit of saying “Every man has a different philosophy; this is my philosophy and it suits me” – the habit of saying this is mere weak-mindedness. A cosmic philosophy is not constructed to fit a man; a cosmic philosophy is constructed to fit a cosmos. A man can no more possess a private religion than he can possess a private sun and moon. The first of the intellectual beauties of the book of Job is that it is all concerned with this desire to know the actuality; the desire to know what is, and not merely what seems. If moderns were writing the book, we should probably find that Job and his comforters got on quite well together by the simple operation of referring their differences to what is called the temperament, saying that the comforters were by nature “optimists” and Job by nature a “pessimist.” And they would be quite comfortable, as people can often be, for some time at least, by agreeing to say what is obviously untrue. For if the word “pessimist” means anything at all, then emphatically Job is not a pessimist. His case alone is sufficient to refute the modern absurdity of referring everything to physical temperament. Job does not in any sense look at life in a gloomy way. If wishing to be happy and being quite ready to be happy constitutes an optimist, Job is an optimist. He is a perplexed optimist; he is an exasperated optimist; he is an outraged and insulted optimist. He wishes the universe to justify itself, not because he wishes it be caught out, but because he really wishes it be justified. He demands an explanation from God, but he does not do it at all in the spirit in which [John] Hampden might demand an explanation from Charles I. He does it in the spirit in which a wife might demand an explanation from her husband whom she really respected. He remonstrates with his Maker because he is proud of his Maker. He even speaks of the Almighty as his enemy, but he never doubts, at the back of his mind, that his enemy has some kind of a case which he does not understand. In a fine and famous blasphemy he says, “Oh, that mine adversary had written a book!” (31:35). It never really occurs to him that it could possibly be a bad book. He is anxious to be convinced, that is, he thinks that God could convince him. In short, we may say again that if the word optimist means anything (which I doubt), Job is an optimist. He shakes the pillars of the world and strikes insanely at the heavens; he lashes the stars, but it is not to silence them; it is to make them speak. In the same way we may speak of the official optimists, the comforters of Job. Again, if the word pessimist means anything (which I doubt), the comforters of Job may be called pessimists rather than optimists. All that they really believe is not that God is good but that God is so strong that it is much more judicious to call Him good. It would be the exaggeration of censure to call them evolutionists; but they have something of the vital error of the evolutionary optimist. They will keep on saying that everything in the universe fits into everything else; as if there were anything comforting about a number of nasty things all fitting into each other. We shall see later how God in the great climax of the poem turns this particular argument altogether upside down. When, at the end of the poem, God enters (somewhat abruptly), is struck the sudden and splendid note which makes the thing as great as it is. All the human beings through the story, and Job especially, have been asking questions of God. A more trivial poet would have made God enter in some sense or other in order to answer the questions. By a touch truly to be called inspired, when God enters, it is to ask a number of questions on His own account. In this drama of skepticism God Himself takes up the role of skeptic. He does what all the great voices defending religion have always done. He does, for instance, what Socrates did. He turns rationalism against itself. He seems to say that if it comes to asking questions, He can ask some question which will fling down and flatten out all conceivable human questioners. The poet by an exquisite intuition has made God ironically accept a kind of controversial equality with His accusers. He is willing to regard it as if it were a fair intellectual duel: “Gird up now thy loins like man; for I will demand of thee, and answer thou me” (38:3). The everlasting adopts an enormous and sardonic humility. He is quite willing to be prosecuted. He only asks for the right which every prosecuted person possesses; he asks to be allowed to cross-examine the witness for the prosecution. And He carries yet further the corrections of the legal parallel. For the first question, essentially speaking, which He asks of Job is the question that any criminal accused by Job would be most entitled to ask. He asks Job who he is. And Job, being a man of candid intellect, takes a little time to consider, and comes to the conclusion that he does not know. This is the first great fact to notice about the speech of God, which is the culmination of the inquiry. It represents all human skeptics routed by a higher skepticism. It is this method, used sometimes by supreme and sometimes by mediocre minds, that has ever since been the logical weapon of the true mystic. Socrates, as I have said, used it when he showed that if you only allowed him enough sophistry he could destroy all sophists. Jesus Christ used it when he reminded the Sadducees, who could not imagine the nature of marriage in heaven, that if it came to that they had not really imagined the nature of marriage at all. In the break up of Christian theology in the eighteenth century, [Joseph] Butler used it, when he pointed out that rationalistic arguments could be used as much against vague religions as against doctrinal religion, as much against rationalist ethics as against Christian ethics. It is the root and reason of the fact that men who have religious faith have also philosophic doubt. These are the small streams of the delta; the book of Job is the first great cataract that creates the river. In dealing with the arrogant asserter of doubt, it is not the right method to tell him to stop doubting. It is rather the right method to tell him to go on doubting , to doubt a little more, to doubt every day newer and wilder things in the universe, until at last, by some strange enlightenment, he may begin to doubt himself. This, I say, is the first fact touching the speech; the fine inspiration by which God comes in at the end, not to answer riddles, but to propound them. The other great fact which, taken together with this one, makes the whole work religious instead of merely philosophical is that other great surprise which makes Job suddenly satisfied with the mere presentation of something impenetrable. Verbally speaking the enigmas of Jehovah seem darker and more desolate than the enigmas of Job; yet Job was comfortless before the speech of Jehovah and is comforted after it. He has been told nothing, but he feels the terrible and tingling atmosphere of something which is too good to be told. The refusal of God to explain His design is itself a burning hint of His design. The riddles of God are more satisfying than the solutions of man. Thirdly, of course, it is one of the splendid strokes that God rebukes alike the man who accused and the men who defended Him; that He knocks down pessimists and optimists with the same hammer. And it is in connection with the mechanical and supercilious comforters of Job that there occurs the still deeper and finer inversion of which I have spoken. The mechanical optimist endeavors to justify the universe avowedly upon the ground that it is a rational and consecutive pattern. He points out that the fine thing about the world is that it can all be explained. That is the one point, if I may put it so, on which God, in return, is explicit to the point of violence. God says, in effect, that if there is one fine thing about the world, as far as men are concerned, it is that it cannot be explained. He insists on the inexplicableness of everything. “Hath the rain a father?. . .Out of whose womb came the ice?” (38:28f). He goes farther, and insists on the positive and palpable unreason of things; “Hast thou sent the rain upon the desert where no man is, and upon the wilderness wherein there is no man?” (38:26). God will make man see things, if it is only against the black background of nonentity. God will make Job see a startling universe if He can only do it by making Job see an idiotic universe. To startle man, God becomes for an instant a blasphemer; one might almost say that God becomes for an instant an atheist. He unrolls before Job a long panorama of created things, the horse, the eagle, the raven, the wild ass, the peacock, the ostrich, the crocodile. He so describes each of them that it sounds like a monster walking in the sun. The whole is a sort of psalm or rhapsody of the sense of wonder. The maker of all things is astonished at the things he has Himself made. This we may call the third point. Job puts forward a note of interrogation; God answers with a note of exclamation. Instead of proving to Job that it is an explicable world, He insists that it is a much stranger world than Job ever thought it was. Lastly, the poet has achieved in this speech, with that unconscious artistic accuracy found in so many of the simpler epics, another and much more delicate thing. Without once relaxing the rigid impenetrability of Jehovah in His deliberate declaration, he has contrived to let fall here and there in the metaphors, in the parenthetical imagery, sudden and splendid suggestions that the secret of God is a bright and not a sad one – semi-accidental suggestions, like light seen for an instant through the crack of a closed door. It would be difficult to praise too highly, in a purely poetical sense, the instinctive exactitude and ease with which these more optimistic insinuations are let fall in other connections, as if the Almighty Himself were scarcely aware that He was letting them out. For instance, there is that famous passage where Jehovah, with devastating sarcasm, asks Job where he was when the foundations of the world were laid, and then (as if merely fixing a date) mentions the time when the sons of God shouted for joy (38:4-7). One cannot help feeling, even upon this meager information, that they must have had something to shout about. Or again, when God is speaking of snow and hail in the mere catalogue of the physical cosmos, he speaks of them as a treasury that He has laid up against the day of battle – a hint of some huge Armageddon in which evil shall be at last overthrown. Nothing could be better, artistically speaking, than this optimism breaking though agnosticism like fiery gold round the edges of a black cloud. Those who look superficially at the barbaric origin of the epic may think it fanciful to read so much artistic significance into its casual similes or accidental phrases. But no one who is well acquainted with great examples of semi-barbaric poetry, as in The Song of Roland or the old ballads, will fall into this mistake. No one who knows what primitive poetry is can fail to realize that while its conscious form is simple some of its finer effects are subtle. The Iliad contrives to express the idea that Hector and Sarpedon have a certain tone or tint of sad and chivalrous resignation, not bitter enough to be called pessimism and not jovial enough to be called optimism; Homer could never have said this in elaborate words. But somehow he contrives to say it in simple words. The Song of Roland contrives to express the idea that Christianity imposes upon its heroes a paradox; a paradox of great humility in the matter of their sins combined with great ferocity in the matter of their ideas. Of course The Song of Roland could not say this; but it conveys this. In the same way, the book of Job must be credited with many subtle effects which were in the author’s soul without being, perhaps, in the author’s mind. And of these by far the most important remains to be stated. I do not know, and I doubt whether even scholars know, if the book of Job had a great effect or had any effect upon the after development of Jewish thought. But if it did have any effect it may have saved them from an enormous collapse and decay. Here in this book the question is really asked whether God invariably punishes vice with terrestrial punishment and rewards virtue with terrestrial prosperity. If the Jews had answered that question wrongly they might have lost all their after influence in human history. They might have sunk even down to the level of modern well-educated society. For when once people have begun to believe that prosperity is the reward of virtue, their next calamity is obvious. If prosperity is regarded as the reward of virtue it will be regarded as the symptom of virtue. Men will leave off the heavy task of making good men successful. He will adopt the easier task of making out successful men good. This, which has happened throughout modern commerce and journalism, is the ultimate Nemesis of the wicked optimism of the comforters of Job. If the Jews could be saved from it, the book of Job saved them. The book of Job is chiefly remarkable, as I have insisted throughout, for the fact that it does not end in a way that is conventionally satisfactory. Job is not told that his misfortunes were due to his sins or a part of any plan for his improvement. But in the prologue we see Job tormented not because he was the worst of men, but because he was the best. It is the lesson of the whole work that man is most comforted by paradoxes. Here is the very darkest and strangest of the paradoxes; and it is by all human testimony the most reassuring. I need not suggest what high and strange history awaited this paradox of the best man in the worst fortune. I need not say that in the freest and most philosophical sense there is one Old Testament figure who is truly a type; or say what is prefigured in the wounds of Job. Chesterton loved the Book of Job, and wrote about it frequently, including in his masterpiece, The Everlasting Man. http://www.chesterton.org/introduction-to-job/

King Saul a type like Egypt’s Chenephres

by Damien F. Mackey The biblical estimation of Saul appears to have much in common with the way Saul’s son, Jonathan, viewed his father: ‘My father has made trouble for the country’. The prophet Jeremiah will place Samuel on a level similar to Moses, as a powerful intercessor between God and the people of Israel (Jeremiah 15:1): “Then the LORD said to me: ‘Even if Moses and Samuel were to stand before me, my heart would not go out to this people. Send them away from my presence! Let them go!’” Jeremiah’s contemporary, Ezekiel, will speak similarly regarding three other great men (Ezekiel 14:14): ‘… even if these three men—Noah, Daniel and Job—were in it, they could save only themselves by their righteousness, declares the Sovereign LORD’. (Cf. Ezekiel 14:20) And, indeed, when the people of Israel demanded a king to rule over them, to replace the aged Samuel, the great prophet will remind them of what this very Moses had said about what a king would do to them (I Kings 18:10-18; cf. Deuteronomy 17:14-17): Samuel told all the words of the LORD to the people who were asking him for a king. He said, “This is what the king who will reign over you will claim as his rights: He will take your sons and make them serve with his chariots and horses, and they will run in front of his chariots. Some he will assign to be commanders of thousands and commanders of fifties, and others to plow his ground and reap his harvest, and still others to make weapons of war and equipment for his chariots. He will take your daughters to be perfumers and cooks and bakers. He will take the best of your fields and vineyards and olive groves and give them to his attendants. He will take a tenth of your grain and of your vintage and give it to his officials and attendants. Your male and female servants and the best of your cattle and donkeys he will take for his own use. He will take a tenth of your flocks, and you yourselves will become his slaves. When that day comes, you will cry out for relief from the king you have chosen, but the LORD will not answer you in that day.” But the sage warnings of the priests Moses and Samuel were not heeded, and so the Lord agreed to the wish of the people (vv. 19-22): But the people refused to listen to Samuel. ‘No!’ they said. ‘We want a king over us. Then we will be like all the other nations, with a king to lead us and to go out before us and fight our battles’. When Samuel heard all that the people said, he repeated it before the LORD. The LORD answered, ‘Listen to them and give them a king’. Be careful what you ask for. King Saul like Chenephres King Saul, the most reluctant father-in-law of David (I Samuel 18:27), reminds me very much of Chenephres, the foster father-in-law of Moses, whom I have amalgamated into Chephren-Sesostris, the husband of Meresankh, the Egyptian foster-mother (traditionally Merris) of Moses himself. Perhaps the Great Sphinx which he (Chephren) constructed is a fitting image for this Chenephres, as it may also be for the enigmatic King Saul. Consider how Saul, incandescently jealous of the young David (I Samuel 18:5-9), tried to get rid of him by assigning him impossibly dangerous military tasks (vv. 17-30), only later to welcome back and embrace him (19:1-7), but then, again, seeking to kill him (vv. 8-22). And that is exactly the kind of jealous and murderous attitude we find in the behaviour of Chenephres towards Moses, as we read in the following: The author then reverts to the narrative of an adventure tale—and an altogether novel one. Chenephres the Pharaoh, jealous of Moses’ accomplishments, took a dislike to him, and sent him off to war against the Ethiopians with a makeshift band, expecting to see the last of him. But Moses proved to be as successful a military hero as a bringer of culture. He conducted a ten year war of epic proportions and not only returned victorious but won the hearts of the Ethiopians themselves, even introducing them to the fine art of circumcision. …. That bit of whimsy gives a clue to Artapanus’ mindset: a writer of some mischief. The wicked Chenephres pretended to welcome Moses’ homecoming, even asking his advice on the best breed of oxen to plow the fields, whence came the origin of Apis worship among the Egyptians. But, all the while, he plotted against the hero. He appointed assassins, most of whom declined the task, and the one who agreed was duly overpowered by the swifter and keener Moses. The adventures accumulate. A sojourn in Arabia brought Moses to the attention of an Arab leader whose daughter he married but whose importunings to march on Egypt he declined out of regard for his countrymen. Moses returned to his homeland only when the conniving Chenephres perished of elephantiasis, a fitting end, for he was the initial victim of that disease. …. {This accords perfectly with my revision that the Twelfth Dynasty (same as the Fourth) died out while Moses was still in Midian} Just as Chenephres would hound Moses out of Egypt and into the foreign Midian, when seeking to kill him, so would David be forced to flee a murderous Saul, to take refuge amongst, of all people, the hated Philistines (I Samuel 27). King Saul was, like Chenephres, highly superstitious, and would even have recourse in the end to witchcraft (I Samuel 28). He was also clearly a man who needed the support of the crowd. http://www.growthingod.org.uk/saul-and-david.htm Saul defeated the Amalekites and liberated a vast area from their control, but, under pressure from his people, he spared Agag their king and kept all the best of their livestock. He was disregarding the plain commandment of God. God revealed this to Samuel who went to face Saul with his sin. Saul greeted him with the words: “Blessed are you of the Lord! I have carried out the command of the Lord” (1 Sam 15:13). In the ensuing interview we have Samuel’s well-known words: “Has the Lord as much delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices as in obeying the voice of the Lord? Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice, and to heed than the fat of rams. For rebellion is as the sin of divination, and insubordination is as iniquity and idolatry” (1 Sam 15: 22, 23). Saul’s reply reveals his heart: “I have sinned; I have indeed transgressed the command of the Lord and your words, because I feared the people and listened to their voice” (24). Then he says, “I have sinned; but please honour me before the elders of my people and before Israel, and go back with me, that I may worship the Lord your God” (30). The primary motivation in Saul’s life was the crowd. If he was with a crowd of prophets, he could prophesy. If the crowd was deserting him in battle, he could not trust God. If the crowd wanted the spoils of war, he could not stand in their way. Even now he was rejected by God, the crowd must not know it. This also was the underlying motivation at Babel. “Let us make for ourselves a name,” they said, “lest we be scattered abroad over the face of the whole earth” (Gen 11: 4). They found security in a crowd, while they ignored God. Multitudes of people today will only follow where the majority leads”. And the biblical estimation of Saul appears to have much in common with the way Saul’s son, Jonathan, viewed his father: ‘My father has made trouble for the country’ (I Samuel 14:29). Famously, Jonathan will side secretly with his beloved friend, David, against the vengeful Saul. King Saul’s despicable nature was perhaps most evident in his treatment of his son, Jonathan, one of the most noble characters of the Old Testament, and of the mother who bore him (I Samuel 20:30): “Saul boiled with rage at Jonathan. ‘You stupid son of a whore!’ he swore at him. ‘Do you think I don’t know that you want him to be king in your place, shaming yourself and your mother?’” Not only was the life of David constantly at risk with the ever changeable King Saul, but the life of Jonathan also, without whose assistance David would not have survived. No wonder their two hearts were knit close together in friendship. Dr. I. Velikovsky (Ages in Chaos series), a Jewish nationalist, tended to favour types like Saul and Ahab over the likes of Moses (whom he hardly mentions) and Isaiah. On this, see Martin Sieff’s brilliant article, “Velikovsky and His Heroes” (SIS Review v5 No. 4, 1984). One wonders what Jonathan might have told Dr. Velikovsky about the latter’s great hero, Saul, had the two of them had the opportunity to discuss this first king of Israel. Saul and Ahab, not David and Elijah, were the real ‘troublers of Israel’ (I Kings 18:17).

How authentic is the Book of Daniel?

by Damien F. Mackey “If Darius the Mede was a real person, then why didn’t the records of that period mention a ruler of such prominence?” Farrell Till Everette Hatcher III has made a valiant attempt to answer in the positive her title question: “Was Daniel an Eyewitness of 6th-Century B. C. Events? Part Two” (2001, March-April): http://thedailyhatch.org/2013/03/07/was-daniel-an-eyewitness-of-6th-century-b-c-events-part-2/ Below I would like to run through the key points (#’s 5-8) of her article and add whatever relevant comments I think may be necessary, based upon my own biblico-historical revision which may really ‘cut to the chase’ in several of these instances: ________________________________________ But, firstly, I must make a comment about the quote above by Farrell Till: “If Darius the Mede was a real person, then why didn’t the records of that period mention a ruler of such prominence?” The records do mention him, abundantly. He is king Nebuchednezzar’s military commander and governor of Sin Magir, Neriglissar – later King Neriglissar. See e.g. my articles: Darius the Mede had served as King Nebuchednezzar's governor of ‘sar simmagir’ (2) (DOC) Darius the Mede had served as King Nebuchednezzar's governor of 'sar simmagir' | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu Why “Darius the Mede” is like a needle in a haystack (DOC) Why “Darius the Mede” is like a needle in a haystack | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu King Cyrus favoured as ‘Darius the Mede’ (1) (DOC) King Cyrus favoured as 'Darius the Mede' | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu Who was Nebuchednezzar’s ‘grandson’ (1) (DOC) Who was Nebuchednezzar's 'grandson' | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu Nebuchednezzar's ‘grandson’, ‘Ahasuerus’ and queen Vashti (1) (DOC) Nebuchednezzar's 'grandson', 'Ahasuerus' and queen Vashti | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu Everette Hatcher III now commences with # 5: 5 Did the Book of Daniel err when it presented Belshazzar as the King of Babylon (Dan. 5)? William Sierichs, Jr., asserted that Belshazzar “was never the king” (TSR, Vol. 9.6, p.2), and Dave Matson made this same point twice (TSR, Vol. 9.6, p. 12, Vol. 10.1, p. 15). Moreover, Sierichs and Matson are not the only ones who hold this view (E.W. Heaton, The Book of Daniel, Torch Bible Commentaries, London: SCM, 1956, p. 63; Brodrick D. Shepherd, Beasts, Horns, and the Anti-Christ, Grassy Creek, NC: Cliffside Publishing House, 1994, p. 23; Russell, p. 83). Earlier I quoted the critic Philip Davies concerning this. Davies noted, “This is still sometimes repeated as a charge against the historicity of Daniel, and resisted by conservative scholars. But it has been clear since 1924 (J. A. Montgomery, Daniel, International Critical Commentary, Edinburgh: T and T Clark, New York: C. Scribner’s Sons, 1927, pp. 66-67) that although Nabonidus was the last king of the Neo-Babylonian dynasty, Belshazzar was effectively ruling Babylon. In this respect, then, Daniel is correct” (Davies, pp. 30-31; TSR, Vol. 9.2, p. 4). Evidently, that didn’t convince Dave Matson and William Sierichs, Jr. Therefore, let us look at the two points of evidence that convinced the critic James A. Montgomery. First, a cuneiform inscription revealed that royal dignity was conferred on Belshazzar (Montgomery, pp. 66-67). The text records: “He entrusted a camp to his eldest, his firstborn son; the troops of the land he sent with him. He freed his hand; he entrusted the kingship (sarrutam) to him” (Sidney Smith, Babylonian Historical Texts, [1924], p. 84ff). Second, Belshazzar’s name was coupled with his father’s in prayers and also in an oath. The late R .P. Dougherty of Yale commented, “There is no other instance in available documents of an oath being sworn in the name of the son of the king…. It appears that he was invested with a degree of royal authority, not only at the close of the reign of his father, but throughout a large part, if not the whole, of the reign of Nabonidus” (Montgomery, p. 67; Pinches, Proceedings of the Society of Biblical Archaeology [1882], pp. 167ff; Dougherty, Records from Erech, Time of Nabonidus [Yale Or. Series], 1920, No. 134; Clay, Miscellaneous Inscriptions in the Yale Babylonian Collection, 1915, No. 39). Daniel recognized Belshazzar as king, and I have a hard time understanding why some critics still have a problem with that. Obviously, the evidence from archaeology seems to confirm the view that Belshazzar was functioning as king. My comment: There is a more direct solution to the problem of Belshazzar. He is to be fused with Nebuchednezzar’s son, Amel-Marduk (Evil Merodach), who, no one doubts, was a king: King Belshazzar cannot be properly accounted for following conventional Babylonian king-list (2) (DOC) King Belshazzar cannot be properly accounted for following conventional Babylonian king-list | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu King Belshazzar? Not a problem (3) (DOC) King Belshazzar? Not a problem | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu Everette Hatcher III continues (# 6): 6. Did the writer of Daniel err when he called the Babylonian king “Nebuchadnezzar” instead of Nebuchadrezzar? William Sierichs, Jr., said that Daniel used the “biblical, not scholars spelling” (TSR, Vol. 9.6, p. 2, Column 2), and Stephen Van Eck called the “Nebuchadnezzar” spelling “erroneous” (TSR, Vol. 9.6, p. 11). Many critical scholars would agree with these observations (John J. Collins, Daniel, Hermeneia, Minneapolis, Fortress, 1994, p. 133; Samuel Driver, The Book of Daniel: Cambridge Bible for Schools and Colleges: University Press, 1900, p. 3; Heaton, p. 122; Jeffery, p. 362; Montgomery, p. 118; Owens, p. 381). The conservative scholar Dr. Stephen Miller of Mid-America Seminary has noted that “Nebuchadrezzar” is closer to the Babylonian “Nabu-kudurri-usur” (“O Nabu [the god], protect my offspring/boundary”). However, the change of r in Akkadian and Aramaic to n in Hebrew was not erroneous but an accepted philological practice (Daniel, The New American Commentary, Nashville, TN: Broadman, 1994, p. 45 n. 2; Gleason Archer, Jr., Daniel, Expositor’s Bible Commentary, Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1985, p. 32; D. J. Wiseman, Nebuchadrezzar and Babylon [Oxford: University Press, 1985], pp. 2-3). I don’t know why the critics have chosen this argument in their attempt to late date Daniel, because some other Old Testament books also use “Nebuchadnezzar” (2 Kings, 2 Chronicles, Ezra, Nehemiah, and Esther). This argument is weak indeed. 7. Did King Nebuchadnezzar make a solid gold image 60 cubits tall and six cubits broad? Till correctly noted that an image that size would have contained 270 cubic yards of gold and it would have surely impoverished the supply of gold in the royal treasury (TSR, Vol. 9.6, p. 1, Column 1). However, critical scholars agree that the Bible suggests the statute was gold-plated only (Montgomery, pp. 195-197; Louis F. Hartman and Alexander A. DiLella, The Book of Daniel, Anchor Bible, Garden City: Doubleday, 1978, pp. 160-161; Jeffery, p. 395). J. J. Collins asserts, “Compare Isaiah 40:19 (‘The idol, a workman casts it, and a goldsmith overlays it with gold’); Jeremiah 10:3-4 and Epistle of Jeremiah 8, 55, 57, which refer to gods of wood, overlaid with silver or gold; Bel and the Serpent 7 (‘This is but clay inside and brass outside’). Compare also the altar overlaid with gold in Exodus 30:3, which can still be referred to as ‘the golden altar’ (Driver, p. 35; cf. Also Herodotus 2.129; 182)” (Collins, p. 181). Therefore, Till’s criticism is so weak that it is not shared by any other critical scholar that I have come across, and the biblical evidence clearly contradicts his assertion. 8. If Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego were appointed over the affairs of the province of Babylon (Daniel 2:49), then why haven’t their names been found in the Babylonian archives? Till asks this question (TSR, Vol. 9.6, p.1, Column 2), and the answer can be found on a 5-sided clay prism found in Babylon, now on display at the Istanbul Museum. Dr. William Shea has identified these three Jews in this list of more than fifty government officials (W.H. Shea, “Daniel 3: Extra-Biblical Texts and the Convocation on the Plain of Dura,” Andrews University Seminary Studies, Vol. 20 [1982]: pp. 37-50; A. L. Oppenheim’s English Translation of the Babylonian text may be found in Ancient Near Eastern Texts, J. B. Pritchard, ed, pp. 307-308). Hananiah is Hanunu (“chief of the royal merchants”); Abednego is Aridi-Nabu (“secretary of the crown prince [i.e., Amel- Marduk]”); and Mishael is Mushallim-Marduk (one of the “overseers of the slave girls”). Two other government officials mentioned both in this list and the Bible are Nabuzeriddinam=Nabuzaradan (2 Kings 25:8, 11; Jer. 39:9-11, 13; 40:01, etc.) and Nergalsharusur (Neriglissar)=Nergal-Sharezer (Jer. 39:3, 13). In Daniel 1:3, we are introduced to Ashpenaz who was an important official in the court of Nebuchadnezzar around 600 B.C. Did this person actually exist in history? The critic Arthur Jeffery asserted: “No satisfactory explanation of the name has been suggested” (p. 364). However, Peter Coxon has noted, “Almost the same consonants (spnz) are found in an Aram incantation bowl from Nippur dated ca. 600 B.C.” (The Anchor Bible Dictionary, 1992, Vol. 1, pp. 491). Till scoffs at the view “that absence of evidence does not constitute evidence of absence” (TSR, Vol. 11.2, p. 2), but as time goes by, the archaeologist continues to unearth evidence that supports the accuracy of the Bible. Nevertheless, when it comes to the Book of Daniel, Till finds the argument from silence very attractive. He states: “If Darius the Mede was a real person, then why didn’t the records of that period mention a ruler of such prominence? We don’t have to wonder if Nebuchadnezzar, Belshazzar, Cyrus, Evil-Merodach, Artaxerxes, Sennacherib, Tiglath-Pileser, and other gentile kings mentioned in the Bible were actual historical persons, because extrabiblical records confirm that they were real, but we are supposed to believe that a king who conquered Babylon, issued edicts, and made extensive administrative reforms during his reign (Dan. 6) went completely unmentioned in the contemporary records of both Babylon and Persia” (TSR, Vol. 11.1, p. 5). Dr. Wayne A. Brindle of Liberty University e-mailed me on January 14, 2000, concerning these comments of Till. Brindle noted: “Till is arguing out of both sides of his critical mouth. Two hundred years ago, critics commonly said that since most such names in the Bible weren’t found in secular literature/inscriptions, those people never existed. Then when they began to be found -one at a time¬ by slow, deliberate archaeological searching, critics were surprised, and some, like Albright, saw the discoveries almost as providing proof of Biblical accuracy and eyewitness testimony. Now Till says that since so many have already been found, the ones that haven’t yet been found never existed. He obviously hasn’t learned much from the past 200 years.” In addition, not “all” of the Gentile kings have been found in secular histories/inscriptions. The farther back you go, and the farther from Greek and Roman culture you go, the fewer have been found. For example, as far as I know, none of the kings mentioned in Genesis 14 have been positively identified. The finding of the Gallio inscription (Acts 18) in Delphi was a fluke. A number of the kings of Syria and Philistia mentioned in Samuel/Kings/Chronicles have no secular parallel identifications. The reasons for this lack of information are simply that the sources are scarce and archaeologists have barely touched the surface of what might be available throughout the Near East. Many sites, even in Palestine, have not even been touched. In other words, we are not looking for a missing person, but just a missing nickname. However Till’s argument from silence concerning the names Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego has been completely put to flight, and that is why I ranked it as the weakest of the eight arguments presented by critics in The Skeptical Review, (Vol. 9.2 through Vol. 11.3). My comment: I already, at the beginning, answered Till’s criticism. Interestingly, Everette Hatcher III now proceeds to list: II. Six Pieces of Archaeological Evidence that Support the 6th Century View: Since Daniel was an eyewitness to 6th-century events, he could accurately record historical details. The conservative scholar Dr. Stephen R. Miller notes: “In fact, the author of Daniel exhibited a more extensive knowledge of Sixth Century events than would seem possible for a second-century writer.” R. H. Pfeiffer (who argued that the work contains errors) acknowledged that Daniel reports some amazing historical details: “We shall presumably never know how our author learned that the new Babylon was the creation of Nebuchadnezzar (4:30 [Heb. 4:27]), as the excavations have proved… and that Belshazzar, mentioned only in Babylonian records, in Daniel and Bar. 1:11, which is based on Daniel, was functioning as king when Cyrus took Babylon in 538 [Chap. 5]” (Pfeiffer, “Introduction,” pp. 758-759). Harrison comments that the author “was quite accurate in recording the change from punishment by fire under the Babylonians (Dan. 3:11) to punishment by being thrown to lions under the Persian regime (Dan. 6:7), since fire was sacred to the Zoroastrians of Persia” [R. K. Harrison, Introduction to the Old Testament, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1979, pp. 1120- 1121; cf. A. T. Olmstead, History of the Persian Empire, Chicago: University of Chicago press, 1948, pp. 473-474] (Miller, p. 26). It is true that there are “some amazing historical details” to be found in Daniel, but also there are some small details throughout the book that support the view that its author lived early in the Persian period. For instance, concerning Daniel 6:8, 12, 15, the conservative Dr. John Whitcomb notes, “the mention of Medes before Persians in the phrase, ‘the law of the Medes and Persians,’ is an evidence of the early date of the book; for in later years, the Persians were usually mentioned before the Medes [Esther 1:3, 14, 18, 19, though not 10:2; cf. I Macc. 6:56] (characteristically, the critics find an anachronism in the fact that Darius the Mede is under the law of the Medes and Persians. Cf. Arthur Jeffery, p. 442)” (John Whitcomb, Darius the Mede, [Grand Rapids: Baker, 1959], p. 55). Nevertheless, the critic John Joseph Owens still claims this is a sign of later authorship. Owens asserts, “Esther 1:19 gives the proper evolution of the rank in ‘Persians and Medes’ instead of the later view as in Daniel” (p. 415). Conservative scholars point out that the evidence contradicts this assertion (Miller, p. 181, n.54; E. J. Young, The Prophecy of Daniel, [Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1949], p. 127). Daniel 6:8, 12, 15 also states that the laws made by the king could not be altered. The critic Carey Moore disputed this in his commentary on Esther (Anchor Bible, Garden city: Doubleday, 1971, pp. 10-11), but many critics will concede that Daniel was correct about this too (Hartman, p. 199; Driver, p. 7; Collins, pp. 267-268). The critic Lacocque observes: “Diodorus of Sicily (XVII, 30) in fact, reports the case of a man put to death under Darius III (336-330) even though he was known to be perfectly innocent. (Darius III) immediately repented and blamed himself for having committed such a great error, but it was impossible to have undone what had been done by royal authority” (Andre Lacocque, The Book of Daniel, Atlanta: John Knox, 1979, p. 113). Again, Daniel was correct when he placed Susa in the province of Elam (Dan. 8:2). Dr. Gleason Archer, Jr., notes: “From the Greek and Roman historians, we learn that from Persian times Susa, or Sushan, was the capital of the province of Susiana; and Elam was restricted to the territory east of the Eulaeus River. Nevertheless, we know from cuneiform records that Sushan was part of the territory of Elam back in Chaldean times and before. It is very striking that Daniel 8:2 refers to ‘Susa in the province of Elam’¬ an item of information scarcely accessible to a second-century B.C. author” (Archer, p. 19). Daniel 4:30 quotes Nebuchadnezzar: “Is not this the great Babylon I have built as the royal residence by my mighty power and for the glory of my majesty?” Did Nebuchadnezzar actually say these words? Archaeology seems to indicate that he did make a very similar statement: “The fortifications of Esagila and Babylon I strengthened and established the name of my reign forever” (George A. Barton, Archaeology and the Bible, Philadelphia: American Sunday School Union, 1916, p. 479). Nebuchadnezzar evidently did have a habit of boasting, which indicated that he was very prideful. How would a Maccabean author know these details? [1] Belshazzar was ruling during the last few years of the Babylonian Empire. [2] The Babylonians executed individuals by casting them into fire, but the Persians threw the condemned to the lions. [3] The practice in the 6th Century was to mention first the Medes, then the Persians. [4] Laws made by Persian kings could not be revoked. [5] In the sixth century B.C., Susa was in the province of Elam (Dan. 8:2). [6] Nebuchadnezzar had a pride problem (Dan. 4:30) and often boasted about his great building projects. William Sierichs, Jr., dismisses this kind of evidence, and he boldly asserts that archeology has “trashed all claims to historical accuracy for Daniel” (TSR, Vol. 9.6, p. 2, Column 1). In fact, Sierichs claims that the Persian Verse Account is destructive to the biblical view, even though it was this particular piece of evidence that told us Nabonidus entrusted “kingship” to Belshazzar. Earlier critics considered Belshazzar “a figment of the Jewish writer’s imagination” (Ferdinard Hitzig, Das Buch Daniel, Leipzig: Weidman, 1850, p. 75), but archaeology has forced the critics to abandon that position (Alan Millard, “Daniel and Belshazzar in History,” Biblical Archaeology Review, May/June 1985, pp. 74-75). Even a staunch critic like J. J. Collins has admitted: “The fact that Daniel 5 preserved the name of Belshazzar suggests that the underlying tradition had its origin close to the end of the Babylonian era” (p. 33). Nevertheless, Till believes all of Daniel originated during the Maccabean period (TSR, Vol. 9.5, p. 1). However, the evidence from archaeology supports the view that the author came from early in the Persian period. …. _____________ Is the Bible historically accurate? Here are some of the posts I have done in the past on the subject: 1. The Babylonian Chronicle of Nebuchadnezzars Siege of Jerusalem This clay tablet is a Babylonian chronicle recording events from 605-594BC. It was first translated in 1956 and is now in the British Museum. The cuneiform text on this clay tablet tells, among other things, 3 main events: 1. The Battle of Carchemish (famous battle for world supremacy where Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon defeated Pharoah Necho of Egypt, 605 BC.), 2. The accession to the throne of Nebuchadnezzar II, the Chaldean, and 3. The capture of Jerusalem on the 16th of March, 598 BC. 2. Hezekiah’s Siloam Tunnel Inscription. King Hezekiah of Judah ruled from 721 to 686 BC. Fearing a siege by the Assyrian king, Sennacherib, Hezekiah preserved Jerusalem’s water supply by cutting a tunnel through 1,750 feet of solid rock from the Gihon Spring to the Pool of Siloam inside the city walls (2 Kings 20; 2 Chron. 32). At the Siloam end of the tunnel, an inscription, presently in the archaeological museum at Istanbul, Turkey, celebrates this remarkable accomplishment. 3. Taylor Prism (Sennacherib Hexagonal Prism) It contains the victories of Sennacherib himself, the Assyrian king who had besieged Jerusalem in 701 BC during the reign of king Hezekiah, it never mentions any defeats. On the prism Sennacherib boasts that he shut up “Hezekiah the Judahite” within Jerusalem his own royal city “like a caged bird.” This prism is among the three accounts discovered so far which have been left by the Assyrian king Sennacherib of his campaign against Israel and Judah. 4. Biblical Cities Attested Archaeologically. In addition to Jericho, places such as Haran, Hazor, Dan, Megiddo, Shechem, Samaria, Shiloh, Gezer, Gibeah, Beth Shemesh, Beth Shean, Beersheba, Lachish, and many other urban sites have been excavated, quite apart from such larger and obvious locations as Jerusalem or Babylon. Such geographical markers are extremely significant in demonstrating that fact, not fantasy, is intended in the Old Testament historical narratives; 5. The Discovery of the Hittites Most doubting scholars back then said that the Hittites were just a “mythical people that are only mentioned in the Bible.” Some skeptics pointed to the fact that the Bible pictures the Hittites as a very big nation that was worthy of being coalition partners with Egypt (II Kings 7:6), and these bible critics would assert that surely we would have found records of this great nation of Hittites. The ironic thing is that when the Hittite nation was discovered, a vast amount of Hittite documents were found. Among those documents was the treaty between Ramesses II and the Hittite King. 6.Shishak Smiting His Captives The Bible mentions that Shishak marched his troops into the land of Judah and plundered a host of cities including Jerusalem, this has been confirmed by archaeologists. Shishak’s own record of his campaign is inscribed on the south wall of the Great Temple of Amon at Karnak in Egypt. In his campaign he presents 156 cities of Judea to his god Amon. 7. Moabite Stone The Moabite Stone also known as the Mesha Stele is an interesting story. The Bible says in 2 Kings 3:5 that Mesha the king of Moab stopped paying tribute to Israel and rebelled and fought against Israel and later he recorded this event. This record from Mesha has been discovered. 8. Black Obelisk of Shalmaneser III The tribute of Jehu, son of Omri, silver, gold, bowls of gold, chalices of gold, cups of gold, vases of gold, lead, a sceptre for the king, and spear-shafts, I have received.” My comment: My revision disallows Shalmaneser so-called III from being a contemporary of Jehu king of Israel. View from the dome of the Capitol!9A Verification of places in Gospel of John and Book of Acts. Sir William Ramsay, famed archaeologist, began a study of Asia Minor with little regard for the book of Acts. He later wrote: I found myself brought into contact with the Book of Acts as an authority for the topography, antiquities and society of Asia Minor. It was gradually borne upon me that in various details the narrative showed marvelous truth. 9B Discovery of Ebla Tablets. When I think of discoveries like the Ebla Tablets that verify names like Adam, Eve, Ishmael, David and Saul were in common usage when the Bible said they were, it makes me think of what amazing confirmation that is of the historical accuracy of the Bible. 10. Cyrus Cylinder There is a well preserved cylinder seal in the Yale University Library from Cyrus which contains his commands to resettle the captive nations. 11. Puru “The lot of Yahali” 9th Century B.C.E. This cube is inscribed with the name and titles of Yahali and a prayer: “In his year assigned to him by lot (puru) may the harvest of the land of Assyria prosper and thrive, in front of the gods Assur and Adad may his lot (puru) fall.” It provides a prototype (the only one ever recovered) for the lots (purim) cast by Haman to fix a date for the destruction of the Jews of the Persian Empire, ostensibly in the fifth century B.C.E. (Esther 3:7; cf. 9:26). 12. The Uzziah Tablet Inscription The Bible mentions Uzziah or Azariah as the king of the southern kingdom of Judah in 2 Kings 15. The Uzziah Tablet Inscription is a stone tablet (35 cm high x 34 cm wide x 6 cm deep) with letters inscribed in ancient Hebrew text with an Aramaic style of writing, which dates to around 30-70 AD. The text reveals the burial site of Uzziah of Judah, who died in 747 BC. 13. The Pilate Inscription The Pilate Inscription is the only known occurrence of the name Pontius Pilate in any ancient inscription. Visitors to the Caesarea theater today see a replica, the original is in the Israel Museum in Jerusalem. There have been a few bronze coins found that were struck form 29-32 AD by Pontius Pilate 14. Caiaphas Ossuary This beautifully decorated ossuary found in the ruins of Jerusalem, contained the bones of Caiaphas, the first century AD. high priest during the time of Jesus. 14 B Pontius Pilate Part 2 In June 1961 Italian archaeologists led by Dr. Frova were excavating an ancient Roman amphitheatre near Caesarea-on-the-Sea (Maritima) and uncovered this interesting limestone block. On the face is a monumental inscription which is part of a larger dedication to Tiberius Caesar which clearly says that it was from “Pontius Pilate, Prefect of Judea.” 14c. Three greatest American Archaeologists moved to accept Bible’s accuracy through archaeology. Despite their liberal training, it was archaeological research that bolstered their confidence in the biblical text:Albright said of himself, “I must admit that I tried to be rational and empirical in my approach [but] we all have presuppositions of a philosophical order.” The same statement could be applied as easily to [Glueck] and Wright, for all three were deeply imbued with the theological perceptions which infused their work.

Book of Esther and Enuma Elish

by Damien F. Mackey “As a dreamer, and especially as a dream interpreter, Mordecai is brought in line with Daniel and, more importantly, with their predecessor Joseph”. Aaron Koller A reader has written (e-mail): …. The crest on the door of the Vatican is a Dragon. I think that is a clue to what is inside. …. Damien Mackey’s response: Then you’d have trouble with the Book of Esther, in which the holy Mordecai, the Jew, is depicted as a great dragon. Mordecai in his dream (Apocr. Esth. i. 4-11) sees two dragons coming to fight each other (representing Mordecai and Haman, ib. vi. 4); the nations make ready to destroy the “people of the righteous,” but the tears of the righteous well up in a little spring that grows into a mighty stream (comp. Ezek. xlvii. 3-12; according to Apocr. Esth. vi. 3, the spring symbolizes Esther, who rose from a poor Jewess to be a Persian queen). The sun now rises, and those who had hitherto been suppressed “devoured those who till then had been honored” (comp. Esth. ix. 1-17). A Vatican emblem is a dragon, but this has nothing to do with Satan. The Bible says Yahweh spews fire from his mouth and smoke from his nostrils in II Samuel, that he has enormous wings in Psalms. In Numbers, he orders Moses to make a bronze fiery serpent image. Etc. [End of e-mail exchange] One writer, Aliyah bat Stam, has gone so far as to connect: https://ononion.wordpress.com/2013/02/20/161/ The Book of Esther and the Enuma Elish Posted on February 20, 2013 … It has often been suggested — and by often, I mean every single Pagan I have ever talked to has mentioned it, and half of the Jews who knew anything about Judaism have said it to me, personally, at least once– that the Book of Ester [Esther] actually a veiled myth about Marduk and Ishtar. Can you blame them? Purim is widely known to be a Jewish adaptation of a Babylonian drinking holiday. Just listen to the names, too. Mordechai and Esther. They sound like the [names] of those two deities. I decided to do some investigation into this Babylonian drinking holiday, and was lead [sic] back to an ancient Babylonian tale about how the hero, Marduk, defeated Tiamat. In it, there are indeed many similarities to the Purim story. The antagonist, Tiamat, is terrorizing the good gods (or the ones that the reader is supposed to be rooting for). In the third tablet we learn, 17. “All the gods have turned to her, 18. “With those, whom ye created, they go at her side. 19. ”They are banded together, and at the side of Tiamat they advance; 20 . “They are furious, they devise mischief without resting night and day. 21. ”They prepare for battle, fuming and raging; 22. “They have joined their forces and are making war.” “The gods” here are sort of a faceless multitude. Likewise, in the Book of Ester, there is a faceless multitude waiting to do evil to the Jews: “And the letters were sent by posts into all the king’s provinces, to destroy, to kill, and to cause to perish, all Jews, both young and old, little children and women, in one day, even upon the thirteenth day of the twelfth month, which is the month Adar, and to take the spoil of them for a prey.” (Esther, 3:13) In both, there is also a wine feast that is instrumental in swinging the tide of history over to the side of the “good guys.” In the Enuma Elish, Tablet 3: 133. They made ready for the feast, at the banquet [they sat]; 134. They ate bread, they mixed [sesame-wine]. 135. The sweet drink, the mead, confused their […], 136. They were drunk with drinking, their bodies were filled. 137. They were wholly at ease, their spirit was exalted; 138. Then for Marduk, their avenger, did they decree the fate. and in the Book of Esther: “Now it came to pass on the third day, that Esther put on her royal apparel, and stood in the inner court of the king’s house, over against the king’s house: and the king sat upon his royal throne in the royal house, over against the gate of the house. And it was so, when the king saw Esther the queen standing in the court, that she obtained favour in his sight: and the king held out to Esther the golden sceptre that was in his hand. So Esther drew near, and touched the top of the sceptre. Then said the king unto her, What wilt thou, queen Esther? and what is thy request? it shall be even given thee to the half of the kingdom. And Esther answered, If it seem good unto the king, let the king and Haman come this day unto the banquet that I have prepared for him.” (Esther, 5:1-4) An aside: Scepter? Do you mean his staff? His power rod? The big long thing he likes to have in his hand? Yeah. It’s tip. She touched it. Oh yes, the Jewish people went there. The stories also have a very similar ending, too. From the Enumah Elish (fourth tablet): 27. When the gods, his fathers, beheld (the fulfilment of) his word, 28. They rejoiced, and they did homage (unto him, saying), “Marduk is king!” 29. They bestowed upon him the sceptre, and the throne, and the ring, and then, 101. He seized the spear and burst her belly, 102. He severed her inward parts, he pierced (her) heart. 103. He overcame her and cut off her life; 104. He cast down her body and stood upon it. 105. When he had slain Tiamat, the leader, 106. Her might was broken, her host was scattered. 107. And the gods her helpers, who marched by her side, 108. Trembled, and were afraid, and turned back. 109. They took to flight to save their lives; 110. But they were surrounded, so that they could not escape. 111. He took them captive, he broke their weapons; 112. In the net they were caught and in the snare they sat down. 113. The […] … of the world they filled with cries of grief. And in the book of Ester: “8:1 On that day did the king Ahasuerus give the house of Haman the Jews’ enemy unto Esther the queen. And Mordecai came before the king; for Esther had told what he was unto her. 8:2 And the king took off his ring, which he had taken from Haman, and gave it unto Mordecai. And Esther set Mordecai over the house of Haman.” and then, “8:17 And in every province, and in every city, whithersoever the king’s commandment and his decree came, the Jews had joy and gladness, a feast and a good day. And many of the people of the land became Jews; for the fear of the Jews fell upon them.” and then, just in case the Hebrew Mythos left it unclear as to who, exactly, is wearing the pants: “And the king said unto Esther the queen, The Jews have slain and destroyed five hundred men in Shushan the palace, and the ten sons of Haman; what have they done in the rest of the king’s provinces? now what is thy petition? and it shall be granted thee: or what is thy request further? and it shall be done. Then said Esther, If it please the king, let it be granted to the Jews which are in Shushan to do to morrow also according unto this day’s decree, and let Haman’s ten sons be hanged upon the gallows.” (Esther, 9:12-13) Do not. Mess. With Jewish. Women. Ever. [End of quotes] Aaron Koller, in Esther in Ancient Jewish Thought (pp. 115-116), likens Mordecai to other biblical dreamers, Joseph and Daniel: https://thetorah.com/a-more-religious-megillat-esther/ As a dreamer, and especially as a dream interpreter, Mordecai is brought in line with Daniel and, more importantly, with their predecessor Joseph. …. This not only established Mordecai as reminiscent of earlier biblical heroes, but also establishes his religious bona fides: he, like Joseph and Daniel, was the recipient of divine revelation and (by implication) divine approval. Certainly, the author of Addition A was biblically-oriented: the dream contains many intertextual references to other biblical books. These include use of the imagery of the dragon, fountain, battle, and the contrast between dark and light from Jeremiah 28. …. [End of quote] The titanic struggle “In the second year of the reign of Ahasuerus the Great …. Mordecai … of the tribe of Benjamin, had a dream. He was a Jew in the city of Susa, a great man serving in the court of the king. He was one of the captives whom Nebuchednezzar king of Babylon had brought from Jerusalem with Jeconiah king of Judea. And this was his dream: ‘Behold, noise and confusion, thunders and earthquake, tumult upon the earth! And behold, two great dragons came forward, both ready to fight, and they roared terribly. And at their roaring every nation prepared for war, to fight against the nation of the righteous. And behold, a day of darkness and gloom, tribulation and distress, affliction and great tumult upon the earth! And the whole righteous nation was troubled; they feared the evils that threatened them, and were ready to perish. Then they cried to God; and from their cry, as though from a tiny spring, there came a great river, with abundant water; light came, and the sun rose, and the lowly were exalted and consumed those held in honour’. Mordecai saw in this dream what God had determined to do, and after he awoke he had it on his mind and sought all day to understand it in every detail” (Esther 11:1-12). According to the unusual arrangement of the Book of Esther, this section from chapter 11 is situated at the very beginning of the narrative. It is, however, a most fitting introduction to the story since it sets the scene for the main drama to follow, presenting a symbolic account of it to the reader in prophetic form. In the ‘denouement’, or resolution of the drama, at the end of the Book of Esther in chapter 10, Mordecai explains all the various parts of his dream, whose meaning had become fully known to him as the events unfolded. It depicts the titanic struggle between good and evil as a fight between “two great dragons”. More specifically, as Mordecai finally reveals to us in chapter 10, “The two dragons are Haman and myself” (10:7). Mordecai’s apocalyptic dream is also a perfect back-drop for the apparitions of Our Lady of Fatima. She came upon the earth in 1917, when all nations were involved in the Great War (1914-1918). It was indeed a time of “darkness and gloom, tribulation and distress, affliction and great tumult upon the earth”. Pope Benedict XV (1914-1922), the then reigning Pontiff, had used all the diplomatic resources at his disposal to bring an end to the hostilities, the shock of whose advent may well have killed his holy predecessor, Pope St. Pius X (1903-1914). But seeing that his efforts were in vain, pope Benedict XV turned his eyes to Heaven, and on the 5th of May 1917 he ordered that recourse be had to the protection of the Blessed Virgin Mary, adding to the Litany of Loreto a new invocation: “Regina pacis, ora pro nobis”, that is, “Queen of Peace, pray for us”. And thus again, as in the case of Mordecai’s dream, a great “dragon” had begun to “roar” loudly on behalf of “the whole righteous nation”. But in this case it was the Supreme Pontiff of the chosen nation of the holy Catholic Church who cried to God and who ordered that all Catholics do the same. The response from Heaven was immediate. On the 13th of May, 1917, a mere eight days after the Holy Father had begun his plea to Heaven, the Blessed Virgin Mary visited the troubled earth, appearing to three innocent children, Lucia, Jacinta and Francisco, at Fatima in Portugal. The precise place to which the Queen of Peace came at Fatima was one completely unknown, not only in Portugal and in the world, but even to the majority of the inhabitants of Fatima. Its name is Cova da Iria, a word which is derived from the Greek term eirene, meaning ‘peace’. The graphic images of noise, tumult, affliction and wholesale confusion upon the earth, ‘with every nation preparing for war’, as described in Mordecai’s dream, anticipate not only the Great War during which Our Lady of the Rosary at Fatima first appeared, and the many wars that have followed, but even more significantly they recall to mind that relentless and on-going struggle for souls. The latter is, of course, a spiritual warfare between the forces of good and evil, the “two great dragons” of the Book of Esther. In the past two to three centuries this struggle has visibly assumed a more global aspect; a bitter fight to the death between the holy Catholic Church and the forces of a world-wide conspiracy for global conquest and the formation of a “One-World ‘Church’,” (Pope St. Pius X) masterminded by the Devil, and set in motion initially through the agency of the secret societies of Freemasonry. The conspirators of evil were already in the midst of laying down their plans to unleash the “great red dragon” of Communism (cf. Revelation 12:3) upon Russia in 1917, when Heaven went into action. With Lenin and Trotsky in Petrograd, preparing to give orientation to the Bolshevist revolution which they directed, there came from Heaven, from the east, a Lady of Light, to Fatima. She was the same “Woman clothed with the sun” who – as the Evangelist had predicted long ago – would be opposed to this great red dragon (Revelation 12:3-5). She came solemnly to remind us of the unique and infallible means of salvation, strengthening our Faith in God, inviting us to prayer and penance and to flee sin, asking us to recite the Rosary daily and to consecrate ourselves to Her Immaculate Heart. It was only after Our Lady of Fatima’s six apparitions in 1917 had run their course from May to October that, on the 7th of November of that year, the Bolshevist faction triumphed first at Petrograd, then at Moscow. As Fr. J. DaCruz put it, whilst at the eastern end of Europe the spirit of Antichrist was being “unloosed, not only against true religion, but even against the very idea of God and against civil society, the most terrible onslaught in all history, at the same moment there appeared in splendour at the western extremity, the Great and Eternal Enemy of the infernal serpent!” [More about Fatima and the Immaculate Heart of Mary, p. 54]. The Thirteenth Day of the Month To appreciate why Heaven has placed such special emphasis on the 13th day of the month, making it the intended day of each of the six apparitions of the Virgin Mary at Fatima, we need to refer again to the pages of the Book of Esther. It is an important point and one that has been made before. Mordecai the Jew had been raised to prominence in the court of the King of Medo-Persia because he, having become cognizant of a plot by two of the king’s eunuchs to assassinate their master, had duly informed the king and had thus saved his life. We also learn about Mordecai that he had brought up Hadassah, that is Esther, the daughter of his uncle; for, after both her parents had died, Mordecai had adopted the girl as his own daughter (Esther 11:3; 12:1; 2:7). [Actually, she became Mordecai’s wife]. This Mordecai is therefore a key player in the whole drama. Into the midst of this tranquil scenario steps the sinister Haman. For reasons unexplained, the king so advances this foreign guest of his (Esther 16:10) as to set him above all the princes and make him second in the kingdom (cf. e.g. 3:1-2 and 16:11). This means that all the king’s servants were expected to bow down to Haman. The fact that Mordecai would not bow down filled Haman with fury. He thereupon resolved “to destroy all the Jews, the people of Mordecai, throughout the whole kingdom of Ahasuerus. But he disdained to lay hands on Mordecai himself” (3:1, 6). There is more to Haman than first meets the eye, and it gradually becomes apparent that his intentions are conspiratorial. Because of his extreme cunning, Haman has no difficulty insinuating his way into great prominence in the kingdom of Medo-Persia; his ultimate purpose being, as he speedily rose to become “the person second to the royal throne” (16:11), to get rid of the king. For, as it turned out, even the eunuchs’ plot to assassinate king Ahasuerus had been masterminded by Haman (12:16). A chastened king Ahasuerus would later testify that this Haman, who “was called our father and was continually bowed down to by all”, had thought to “transfer the kingdom of the Persians to the Macedonians” [sic] (16:12, 14). No doubt Haman intended for himself (and/or perhaps for one of his ten sons) to be the ruler over this united kingdom of east and west. Only one obstacle remained, and it was in the form of his rival colleague, Mordecai; the one man of rank in the kingdom who was neither deceived by Haman’s guile nor would bow down to him. Inasmuch as Mordecai had unmasked the plotting of the eunuchs to kill the king, and had made a written account of it (12:4), Haman had good reason to be wary of him. Unable, therefore, to vent his antagonistic spleen upon Mordecai directly, Haman felt that he could harm him through his race. Firstly destroy the Jews, he probably reasoned, and deal with Mordecai later, perhaps after King Ahasuerus himself had been dispatched. It is here that we come across the significance of the 13th day of the month. It did not take much for the astute Haman to persuade Ahasuerus that the Jews, with their “different” laws and customs, and their flouting of the king’s laws – as Haman had claimed – were not profitable for the king to tolerate, and so ought to be destroyed (3:8). Haman’s offer to the king of the enormous sum of ten thousand talents of silver (3:9) was an added incentive. “So the king took the signet ring from his hand and gave it to Haman … the enemy of the Jews. And the king said to Haman, ‘the money is given to you, the people also, to do with them as it seems good to you’.” (13:10-11). Lots (purim) had been cast before Haman, “day after day” and “month after month till the twelfth month, which is the month of Adar” (3:7), presumably to determine the most propitious time to act. Next the king, after having agreed to Haman’s wicked counsel, summoned his secretaries “on the thirteenth day of the first month, and an edict, according to all that Haman commanded, was written to the king’s satraps and to the governors over all the provinces and to the princes of all the peoples, to every province in its own script and every people in its own language; it was written in the name of king Ahasuerus and sealed with the king’s ring. Letters were sent by couriers to all the king’s provinces, to destroy, to slay, and to annihilate all Jews, young and old, women and children, in one day, the thirteenth day of the twelfth month, which is the month of Adar, and to plunder their goods” (13:12-13). That is the significance of the thirteenth day of the month. The central drama in the Book of Esther is played out in its entirety between that thirteenth day of the first month, when Haman persuaded the king that the Jews must be annihilated for the common good, and the thirteenth day of the twelfth month, the intended date for the full realisation of Haman’s terrible plan. The Lady of Light In the biblical story it is Queen Esther who comes to the rescue of her people. The “cry” of the whole righteous nation, praying that God might deliver it from the evils that were threatening to engulf it, is symbolized in Mordecai’s dream as no more than “a tiny spring”; for the small Jewish nation meant absolutely nothing to the king of Medo-Persia. The profound difference, in the eyes of the king, made by Esther’s intercession on behalf of her people, is exemplified in Mordecai’s retrospective explanation of this part of his dream (10:6): “The tiny spring which became a river, and there was light and the sun and abundant water … the river is Esther whom the king married and made queen”. For God’s chosen people of today, it is of course the Blessed Virgin Mary who makes all the difference to their feeble prayers of supplication. It is She who, as Mediatrix before the sublime King of Heaven, adds the necessary weight to these prayers to ensure that He will listen to them. Like Esther of old, the Queen of Peace entered into the midst of the fray, because again a righteous nation, led by its chief prince – in this case the Holy Father – had begun to implore Heaven to send down its peace and protection.

Habakkuk’s hair-raising flight to Babylon

by Damien F. Mackey “Easter begins by upsetting our expectations”, according to pope Francis. Our God is a God of surprises. He upsets our ancestral traditions, good as some of those may appear to be. ‘You have heard it said …. But I tell you’. Pray for your enemies; don’t lust after any person; restrain your anger. The Hebrews thought that they had God pretty well worked out (as do today’s Fundamentalist Christians; ISIS; theoretical physicists). He was basically like they were. All you need to say is ‘’God [Allah] wills it”, and He just falls into line. He made us in his own image and likeness. Why not now re-make him in ours? Scientists can turn God into a complex (though completely meaningless) mathematical equation, then declare that they have Him fully defined. Job’s three friends, likewise, had God all (mathematically) cut and dried: The Lord rewards the good and punishes the wicked – even in this life. That idea was still circulating at the time of the Apostles (cf. John 9:1-3), who themselves apparently had not learned the lesson of their ancient Book of Job. No, that old saying is clearly not true, exclaimed the righteous Job, who had grown up with this kind of thinking, but who now had serious cause to reject it. He was righteous - {had not God even declared him to be such?} - yet here was God attacking Job as if he were His own mortal enemy. Well, you must have strayed from your formerly righteous ways, declared the three friends, Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar. So now God is justly punishing you. Repent and return to what you were like before, and all will be well with you again, and with your family. It was left to the wise young Elihu (was he the contemporary prophet Ezekiel?) to correct these three older ‘sages’, and to serve as something of a bridge between Job and God. ….. But why focus so much upon the prophet Job in an article presumably about Habakkuk? Well, you see, Habakkuk was Job! Habakkuk (a name only a mother could love) was grappling with the same sort of problem that had so occupied the mind of Job (also of Jeremiah). Basically, it was ‘the problem of evil’, which a quick glance at the Internet tells is this: The problem of evil is the question of how to reconcile the existence of evil and suffering with an omnipotent, omnibenevolent, and omniscient God. Specifically, Job-Habakkuk was wondering why God, who the prophet dearly wanted to be God, and to act like God (Habakkuk 3:2): I have heard of your fame; I stand in awe of your deeds, Lord. Repeat them in our day, in our time make them known [,] had seemingly ceased to act like a just God (Habakkuk 1:2-4): ‘How long, LORD, must I call for help, but you do not listen? Or cry out to you, “Violence!” but you do not save? Why do you make me look at injustice? Why do you tolerate wrongdoing? Destruction and violence are before me; there is strife, and conflict abounds. Therefore the law is paralyzed, and justice never prevails. The wicked hem in the righteous, so that justice is perverted’. We know what you are capable of, Lord. Have not our ancestors passed on to us the accounts of your mighty deeds, such as at the time of the Plagues of Egypt and the Exodus. Here we are today oppressed by, not the Egyptians any more, but by those horrible Chaldeans. ‘Do those mighty things again in our day, in our time make them known’. Had not the Chaldeans, with their basest of kings, Nebuchednezzar (Prayer of Azariah 1:9): ‘And thou didst deliver us into the hands of lawless enemies, most hateful forsakers of God, and to an unjust king, and the most wicked in all the world’, who were making life miserable for Habakkuk and his compatriots, been the same people who had despoiled the hapless Job at the beginning of his troubles? (Job 1:17): While he was still speaking, another messenger came and said, ‘The Chaldeans formed three raiding parties and swept down on your camels and made off with them. They put the servants to the sword, and I am the only one who has escaped to tell you!’ This is clear evidence that the elderly Job (young Tobias of the Book of Tobit) had belonged to the same era of Habakkuk, the era of the Chaldeans, and not – as many think and argue – to the Ice Ages, or to the time of the ancient Hebrew patriarchs, or, perhaps, to the Judges. That name, Habakkuk (close your eyes now and try to spell it). Habakkuk (חֲבַקּוּק) is not actually a Jewish (Hebrew) name. It is Akkadian, khabbaququ, the name of a garden herb. We would expect Tobias (Job) to have had an Akkadian name in Nineveh, just as Daniel and his three companions were given Babylonian names (Shadrach looks Elamite, Shutruk). Strangely, Habakkuk, had never been to Babylon. Thus he tells the angel, who is about to take him by the hair - the first ever [h]air flight to southern Iraq: ‘Sir, I have never seen Babylon …’. Daniel 14:33-36: Now the prophet Habakkuk was in Judea; he had made a stew and had broken bread into a bowl, and was going into the field to take it to the reapers. But the angel of the Lord said to Habakkuk, ‘Take the food that you have to Babylon, to Daniel, in the lions’ den’. Habakkuk said, ‘Sir, I have never seen Babylon, and I know nothing about the den’. Then the angel of the Lord took him by the crown of his head and carried him by his hair; with the speed of the wind he set him down in Babylon, right over the den. As a young man, Tobias, living in Nineveh, had needed an angelic guide, archangel Raphael, to show him the way to “Media” and “Ecbatana” (Bashan), beyond Charan (Haran) (Tobit 11:1, Douay). No doubt the same angel who lifted into the air an older Tobias-Job (= Habakkuk) and carried him to Babylon. Again, presumably the same being as Job’s mysterious Advocate in heaven (Job 16:19).

Early parts of Book of Daniel clearly based upon Nabonidus

by Damien F. Mackey “Clearly these events from the «reign» of Belshazzar create a historical problem since we know from the ancient Near Eastern descriptions he was never truly the king of Babylon. Additionally, five times the book of Daniel refers to Nebuchadnezzar as Belshazzar’s father (5,2.11.13.18.22). This clearly contradicts the cuneiform sources that record Nebuchadnezzar as having only one son who assumed the throne (Amel-Marduk) and state that Nabonidus was the father of Belshazzar”. Amanda Davis Bledsoe A view such as Bledsoe’s here must also take into account the Book of Baruch, however, which, too, names Nebuchednezzar as the father of Belshazzar (1:11): “… and pray for the life of King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon, and for the life of his son Belshazzar …”. Historians and archaeologists can be peculiar in that, when they uncover an historical scenario that perfectly mirrors a significant biblical event - like, for instance, the catastrophic fall of ancient Jericho at the end of Early Bronze III (c. 2200 BC) - they must reject it as corresponding with the biblical incident (c. C15th BC) on the grounds that the dates of the ‘two’ by no means coincide - instead of their considering the possibility that the received dating system may indeed be seriously flawed. A case somewhat parallel to the Jericho one can be found, for instance, with King Nabonidus, who - given his uncanny likenesses to the Book of Daniel’s king “Nebuchednezzar” - is thought to have been the Chaldean biblical king, rather than Nebuchednezzar ‘the Great’ himself, upon whom the author of Daniel must have based his “Nebuchednezzar”. In previous articles I have considered some of the significant parallels that scholars have discerned between “Nebuchednezzar” and Nabonidus - for instance, Carol A. Newsom, in my: Daniel’s “Nebuchednezzar” a better fit for King Nabonidus? (3) (DOC) Daniel's "Nebuchednezzar" a better fit for King Nabonidus? | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu and, again, John A. Tvedtnes in my: Ashurbanipal and Nabonidus (5) (DOC) Ashurbanipal and Nabonidus | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu Now, too, Amanda Davis Bledsoe has, in her article, “The Identity of the “Mad King” of Daniel 4 in the Light of Ancient Near Eastern Sources”, drawn further amazing parallels between Daniel’s “Nebuchednezzar” and Nabonidus. It has apparently not occurred to any of these three scholars though, unfortunately, that Nabonidus might, thus, be Nebuchednezzar, and that Nabonidus’s son, Belshazzar, might, thus, be Daniel’s (and Baruch’s) “Belshazzar”. “… while Nabonidus was in Teima he had a frightening dream, after which he returned to Babylon. The designation, «frightening», is a remarkable parallel between this text and Daniel 4:5”. Amanda Davis Bledsoe Above, I touched upon the perverse tendency of certain scholars, who, whilst identifying an historical-archaeological situation that very much mirrors one recorded in the Bible, do not even consider that there may be a need to reform the conventional dating (historical-archaeological), in order to bring that scenario right into line with the biblical one. Or, perhaps the kings listed in some dynasties might have been duplicated, meaning that there is a need to truncate that particular dynasty. The knee-jerk reaction seems almost universally to insist that the biblical story is fictitious, but that it is loosely based upon some real historical incident of a different time. Again, some kings are in need of alter egos. King Nebuchednezzar himself, for instance, needs to be filled out with the equally long reigning Ashurbanipal, in whose records is the missing evidence for Nebuchednezzar’s destructive path through Egypt – which neither Jeremiah nor Ezekiel miss, however. Now Amanda Davis Bledsoe, whilst noting that “… it is clear that, like Nebuchadnezzar, Nabonidus completed extensive building projects throughout Babylon”, thinks nevertheless that: “However, unlike Nebuchadnezzar, Nabonidus was a very controversial figure. He is said to have broken from the earlier customs in every way: he disregarded his religious and festal duties; he neglected his rule in Babylon residing instead in the desert oasis of Teima …”. Still, a Nebuchednezzar-enhanced-with-Ashurbanipal might be found to be more Nabonidus-like. On this, I have written previously: Nabonidus is somewhat like an Assyrian king. He adopts Assyrian titulature and boasts of having the Assyrian kings as his “royal ancestors”. There is nothing particularly strange about his supposed long stay in Teima in Arabia. This was a typical campaign region adopted by the neo-Assyrian kings. There is nothing particularly remarkable about his desire to restore the Ehulhul temple of Sin in Harran. Ashurbanipal did that. Nabonidus is said to have had two major goals, to restore that Sin temple and to establish the empire of Babylon along the lines of the neo-Assyrians. Once again, Ashurbanipal is particularly mentioned as being his inspiration. Nabonidus was not singular in not taking the hand of Bel in Babylon for many years, due to what he calls the impiety of the Babylonians. Ashurbanipal (and now you will notice that he keeps turning up) could not shake the hand of Bel after his brother Shamash-shum-ukin had revolted against him, barring Babylon, Borsippa, etc. to him. He tells us this explicitly. Nabonidus is not singular either in not expecting to become king. Ashurbanipal had felt the same. …. They share many Babylonian building works and restorations, too. [End of quote] I follow Amanda Davis Bledsoe now in some of her comparisons of Daniel’s “Nebuchednezzar” with Nabonidus: https://www.academia.edu/1479653/The_Identity_of_the_Mad_King_of_Daniel_4_in_the_Light_of_Ancient_Near_Eastern_Sources …. Chapters one through six of the book of Daniel have been loosely woven together by a later editor [sic], each chapter representing a complete and distinct story that can stand on its own. Of these six chapters, the first four are attributed to the reign of Nebuchadnezzar and the latter two to the reign of Belshazzar. Clearly these events from the «reign» of Belshazzar create a historical problem since we know from the ancient Near Eastern descriptions he was never truly the king of Babylon. Additionally, five times the book of Daniel refers to Nebuchadnezzar as Belshazzar’s father (5,2.11.13.18.22). This clearly contradicts the cuneiform sources that record Nebuchadnezzar as having only one son who assumed the throne (Amel-Marduk) and state that Nabonidus was the father of Belshazzar. Mackey’s comment: How about Belshazzar = Amel-Marduk? Amanda Davis Bledsoe continues: These instances begin to show how the narratives concerning Nebuchadnezzar and Nabonidus are entwined in the biblical account. I will now examine each of the three subsections of Daniel 4: the king’s dream, his affliction, and his repentance and restoration, and look at the parallels between each of these sections and the cuneiform sources describing the reign of Nabonidus. …. The King’s dream (Dan 4,1–15 MT/4,4–18 NRSV) The first section begins with a narration by the king describing his dream and his reaction. He asserts that, «I saw a dream that frightened me; my fantasies in bed and the visions of my head terrified me»(Dan 4,5 NRSV). The king then summons all the wise men of Babylon to decipher the dream and tell him its meaning, but none are able except Daniel. There are two important elements in this section of the narrative which I will examine: (1) the king’s frightful dream and (2) his seeking an interpreter, which I will examine separately.2.1. The Frightful Dream Nabonidus has been referred to as «the only known Babylonian dreamer». That he had a strong preoccupation with dreams is indicated in several cuneiform documents. One such text was discovered in the royal palace at Babylon. This inscription begins with a historical prologue briefly detailing the reigns of the Neo-Babylonian kings. Beginning in column V, it turns to Nabonidus’s reign and his accession to the throne. Columns VI-VII report dreams and visions Nabonidus in which Nebuchadnezzar and two Babylonian gods appear to him, showing their approval of his rule. Another inscription, whose location and date of discovery are unknown, was recorded on a bead originally inlaid in a dagger. Here too, there is a report of a dream Nabonidus had where the god, Sîn spoke to him and requested a dagger. The most important text for our discussion of Nabonidus’s fixation with dreams is the Harran stela. This inscription recounts the reign of Nabonidus and his restoration of a temple. Most importantly, it records that while Nabonidus was in Teima he had a frightening dream, after which he returned to Babylon. The designation, «frightening», is a remarkable parallel between this text and Daniel 4:5. Though in this inscription Nabonidus had the dream in Teima (as opposed to Babylon) and it caused him to return to Babylon (rather than to leave), it is still clear that in each case the dream serves as the cause for the king’s movements, explicitly linking his sojourn outside of Babylon with his having a frightening dream. Though there is no specific locale mentioned in Daniel for where the king went, only that «he was driven away from human society», we can relate this event to Nabonidus’s absence from Babylon and his residence in the small oasis city of Teima as recorded in the cuneiform inscriptions. It seems certain that the population living in the massive capitol city of Babylon would have viewed this remote desert oasis as far from «human society». As for the animalistic descriptions of the king’s affliction in Daniel 4, though there are no exact parallels in the cuneiform sources relating to Nabonidus’s reign, there are many ancient Near Eastern mythological texts which attest the tendency of the urban population to view «groups living outside of the civilized urban centers» as extremely primitive, «living like and amidst wild animals». An ex-ample of this is seen in Tablet I of The Epic of Gilgamesh, where the character, Enkidu is transformed «from wild beast to civilized man» as a result of his sexual encounter with a prostitute. Of additional importance is Berossus’s reflection of primordial men where, drawing on a Sumerian text, he says, «He does not know how to eat bread or to wear garments. Instead, he eats grass like the animals, and drinks water from the watering places». These so-called «naturalistic descriptions of uncivilized peoples,» are a running motif in ancient Near Eastern mythology, found in Sumero-Akkadian spells, poems, and prayers. In a recent article, Christopher Hays shows how these texts associate animal imagery or transformation with chains or fetters and divine judgment, thus corresponding to the king’s transformation in Daniel 4. It is also not difficult to imagine that this same imagery could have been invoked by the Babylonian population and applied to Nabonidus and his abandonment of the capitol city. Length of Absence Another parallel between the Danielic narrative and the cuneiform sources is the length of time given for the king’s absence. In Daniel 4, the king’s affliction lasted seven years. Based on the cuneiform documents, we know that «Nabonidus left Babylon for Arabia from the second month of his third year and returned in the seventh month of his thirteenth year»; approximately ten years. In the case of Daniel, it has been proposed that the number seven was used «as a round figure», a number which has tremendous significance in the biblical tradition, and this should be a close enough approximation to reflect the same tradition. Whether seven or ten years, this is certainly a substantial amount of time for the king to be away from Babylon, something that could not have escaped notice of the cuneiform records of Nebuchadnezzar had it occurred during his reign. A further similarity between the Danielic narrative and the cuneiform sources is their employment of comparable phrases to signal the king’s exile. In Dan 4,33 it is said that «immediately the sentence was fulfilled against Nebuchadnezzar» and in 4,34 «when that period was over», he returned. In column III of the Harran inscription, it is said that «fulfilled was the year, the appointed time arrived». Both texts use the idea of a proscribed amount of time that the king was away from Babylon, serving as yet another parallel.3.3 Cause of his «madness» The final consideration for the king’s affliction is the apparent cause of his madness. The narrative of Daniel 4 takes for granted that the source of the king’s madness is affliction by God for his excessive pride. Dan 4,30-31 shows the king in his palace, saying «Is this not magnificent Babylon, which I have built as a royal capital by my mighty power and for my glorious majesty?» (my own emphasis). It was «while these words were still in the king’s mouth» that a voice came from heaven and the king’s sentence is carried out. An equivalent of this can be seen in the Verse Account, where Nabonidus is portrayed as exceedingly mad in his incredible prideful boasts: He [Nabonidus] wrote upon his stel[as: «I did cause him [Cyrus] to prostrate] at my feet. I conquered his countries. I took his possessions to [my country]». He [Nabonidus] would stand up in the assembly (and) praise him[self]: «I am wise. I am knowledgeable. I have seen hid[den things]. (Although) I do not know the art of writing, I have seen se[cret things]…I surpass in all (kinds of) wisdom (even the series) uskar-Anum-Enlilla, which Adap[a] composed…» (Yet) he would mix up the rites, confuse the omens… (Verse Account, Col.V, 7-14). That Nabonidus’s actions are associated with inciting the wrath of the deity seems to especially parallel Daniel 4, where the king is judged for his lack of humility and afflicted until he will recognize the power of the Most High.4. The King’s prayer and restoration (Dan 4,31-34 MT/4,34-37 NRSV) In the final sequence of events of Daniel 4, the king accepts and praises the sovereignty of God and is re-established over his kingdom. There are two central motifs at play in this section: (1) the king’s prayer and repentance and (2) his restoration and celebration.4.1 Prayer and Repentance First, we see that the prayer of the king detailed in the last few verses of Daniel 4 serves as a repentance narrative. Some have taken the king’s «repentance» a step further, in positing his «conversion». See M. Henze, Nebuchadnezzar, in The Eerdmans Dictionary of Early Judaism, ed. A.M. Davis …. …. his prior transformation and absence from Babylon, the king now proclaims his reverence to the same God who caused that affliction. I blessed the Most High, and praised and honored the one who lives forever. For his sovereignty is an everlasting sovereignty, and his kingdom endures from generation to generation. All the inhabitants of the earth are accounted as nothing, and he does what he will with the host of heaven and the inhabitants of the earth. There is no one who can stay his hand or say to him, «What are you doing?» (Dan 4,34b-35NRSV). The various cuneiform inscriptions discovered, which exhibit Nabonidus’s promotion of the moon god, Sîn, certainly could have served as a basis for this tale of repentance in Daniel 4. It is well attested that Nabonidus was responsible for the reorganization of the Eanna temple bureaucracy in Uruk. The extent of his devotion to Sîn is especially evident in a building inscription from Ur, likely written after his return from Teima. This inscription cites Nabonidus’s rebuilding of the ziggurat Elugalgalgasisa of the Egishnugaltemple-complex at Ur. It is in this inscription that we see Nabonidus’s strongest exaltation of Sîn, as he prays to the deity on behalf of his son, Belshazzar. He prays, «O Sîn, lord of the gods, king of the god sof heaven and the underworld, god of gods, who dwells in the great heavens…». This is certainly a reverent invocation and it has even been said that this is «probably the highest epithet ever given to a god in the Mesopotamian tradition. ….

Book of Job a Puzzle to Scholars

by Damien F. Mackey “The language in Job is unlike any other found in the Bible, or outside it. True, the book is written in Hebrew, but it is very strange Hebrew indeed. It has more unique words than any other book of the Hebrew Bible. The language is archaic, which would indicate that it was very ancient: but it is also heavily influenced by Aramaic, which would make it relatively late”. Elon Gilad So devoid of (auto-)biographical details is the Book of Job that it is a complete nightmare for commentators to try to pin it to a particular era. Guesses about it range from before the time of Abram all the way down to the late C6th BC return from Babylonian captivity. That is an incredible range of something like one and half millennia! Elon Gilad, writing for Haaretz, tells of the puzzlement scholars face with the Book of Job: http://www.haaretz.com/jewish/features/1.741973 The Book of Job is quite possibly the strangest book in the Hebrew Bible, and is notoriously difficult to date. In essence, Job is an essay on the problem of evil. The book starts with God and Satan discussing Job, a “perfect and upright” man who “feared God and eschewed evil” (1:1). Satan tells God that Job is only virtuous because he is well off; were he to suffer, he would surely “curse thee to thy face” (1:11). God accepts the challenge and gives Satan permission to destroy Job’s life. Satan kills his children, destroys his house, bankrupts him and gives him a terrible skin disease. Job’s unnamed wife says to him, “Dost thou still retain thine integrity? curse God, and die” (2:9), but Job stands firm. The story then stops being a narrative and takes a philosophical bent, with Job’s friends Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar, each in turn, saying that all reward and punishment comes from God. God is just. Job was punished. Therefore Job must have sinned grievously. A fourth character then enters the story – Elihu, who accuses Job as well (chapters 32-37). Biblical scholars suspect him to be a later addition to the book, mostly because while the first three friends are mentioned in the introduction, Elihu appears from nowhere. Either way, Job denies sinning, and calls on the heavens to testify on his behalf. At this point (38:1) God appears from the whirlwind and answers Job’s explicit implication that he is unjust. …. Strange Hebrew Since the story lacks any historical context and no historic individuals are mentioned, it is very hard to date. The Talmud (redacted at about 500 CE) has several versions. The Talmud (Bava Barta 14b) says it was written by Moses, but then on the next page (15a), rabbis Jonathan and Eliezer say Job was among those who returned from the Babylonian Exile in 538 BCE, which was about seven centuries after Moses’ supposed death. The very same page of Talmud suggests that Job is not a real person and that the whole book is just an allegory; also, that Job was the contemporary of Jacob or Abraham. Modern biblical scholars on the other hand think they do have a clue. There are no historic reference points but they can analyze the language and theology, and compare them with other Hebraic writings of known provenance. There's a snag, though. The language in Job is unlike any other found in the Bible, or outside it. True, the book is written in Hebrew, but it is very strange Hebrew indeed. It has more unique words than any other book of the Hebrew Bible. The language is archaic, which would indicate that it was very ancient: but it is also heavily influenced by Aramaic, which would make it relatively late. Theories for the peculiar language range from it being written by Arabian Jews, to it being a poor translation from Aramaic, to the text being written in Idumean, the language of Biblical Edom, of which we have no record - but would have likely been very similar to Hebrew (note that Job is described not as Judean but Idumean). The most popular theory now is that Job was written by someone whose first language was Aramaic but whose literary language was Hebrew, and that the use of archaic language was deliberate. This would indicate that we are talking about an author or more likely authors living in the early Second Temple period. [End of quote] Allow me to offer a few possible guidelines. • Key to the dating of the Book of Job is mention of the “Chaldeans” in 1:17: “… another messenger came and said, ‘The Chaldeans formed three raiding parties and swept down on your camels and made off with them. They put the servants to the sword, and I am the only one who has escaped to tell you!’” • Commentators are of course aware that Job, who lived “In the land of Uz”, and “among all the people of the East” (1:1, 3), was not geographically a part of mainstream Israel. And that would allow for some degree of foreigness in the language. • Job is Tobias, son of Tobit. See my: Job's Life and Times https://www.academia.edu/3787850/Jobs_Life_and_Times And this fixes the major part of his early life to the later neo-Assyrian empire, whose fall he lived to witness (Tobit 14:14-15): “Tobias died, having lived long enough to hear about the destruction of Nineveh …. As long as he lived he gave thanks for what God had done to Nineveh”. With these points in mind, we can at least broadly date the irruption of the “Chaldeans” in Job 1:17 to the time when the Chaldean empire had begun to overtake the Assyrian one. This revised view of Job now enables for him to be firmly fixed to an historical period, and removes so much of the ‘strangeness’ that the Book of Job can present to biblical scholars. No longer can we entertain the Talmud’s view “that Job is not a real person and that the whole book is just an allegory; also, that Job was the contemporary of Jacob or Abraham”. Job (Tobias) and his relatives had served some of the greatest kings of antiquity (Shalmaneser; Sennacherib; Esarhaddon). The book itself may have been written, at least in part, by the brilliant Elihu, who was an eyewitness to the dialogues that occurred during Job’s major trial. Some suggest that Elihu may have been a Syrian, and hence a speaker of Aramaïc. Job 32:2: “Elihu the son of Barachel the Buzite, of the kindred of Ram”. For, according to Francis N. Peloubet (Studies in the Book of Job, p. 66): “[Elihu] was an Aramean (Syrian) of the family or tribe of Ram = Aram = Syria”. That could explain why: “The language in Job is unlike any other found in the Bible, or outside it. True, the book is written in Hebrew, but it is very strange Hebrew indeed. It has more unique words than any other book of the Hebrew Bible. The language is archaic, which would indicate that it was very ancient: but it is also heavily influenced by Aramaic, which would make it relatively late”. As far as goes that other view of “… the text being written in Idumean, the language of Biblical Edom, of which we have no record - but would have likely been very similar to Hebrew (note that Job is described not as Judean but Idumean)”, I would dismiss this because I consider that Job was, not an Idumean, but a Naphtalian Israelite who had grown up in Assyrian captivity. Problematical, too, is Elon Gilad’s final assessment of the Book of Job: Archaeological signs from deep antiquity Even if the story of Job was written down during the early Second Temple era (late 6th century BCE to the early 4th century BCE), that doesn’t mean the story was a new one. In fact, we know that it was extremely ancient. Ezekiel (about 622 to 570 BCE) mentions Job together with Noah and Daniel as men of ancient renown (Ezekiel 14:14). This means that for Ezekiel, Job was one of those mythological characters that people told stories about throughout the Near East, and not particularly Jewish, just as a story of a Noah-like character appears in the Epic of Gilgamesh, and a mythical Daniel is known from the ancient Semitic city of Ugarit. …. [End of quote] The story was by no means “extremely ancient” in Gilad’s context of “mythological”. Its origin was comparatively late, approximately during the C7th-C6th BC rise of the Chaldean (or Neo-Babylonian) empire, meaning that Job was (quite unlike the ancient Noah) an older contemporary of the prophet Ezekiel who mentions him. Likewise, Ezekiel refers to his wise contemporary, “Daniel”, who is not the same as the pagan Dan’el of Ugaritic literature. On this, see my: Identity of the ‘Daniel’ in Ezekiel 14 and 28 https://www.academia.edu/29786004/Identity_of_the_Daniel_in_Ezekiel_14_and_28