Thursday, January 16, 2025

Syrian Kingmaker in ancient Egypt

Part One: Recalling how Akhnaton came to the throne by Damien F. Mackey Whatever may have been the actual ethnicity of Amenhotep-Ben-Hadad-Abdi-ashirta, his successor, Amenhotep (so-called IV), or Akhnaton (Akhenaten), was undoubtedly a Syrian. Based on my recent article: Marvellous optimism of pharaoh Akhnaton (2) Marvellous optimism of pharaoh Akhnaton | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu pharaoh Amenhotep (so-called III) ‘the Magnificent’ was a mighty emperor, who ruled over both Syria and Egypt. ‘The Magnificent’ was the biblical king, Ben-Hadad I of the C9th BC (conventional dating), whom Dr. Immanuel Velikovsky had identified with the king of Amurru (Syria), Abdi-ashirta, of the El Amarna [EA] letters. This prominent king, thought to have been a vassal of Egypt, was in fact a master-king, with 32 other kings following him. So far I have not ventured into an explanation of how a king whom the Bible connects solely with Syria and its capital, Damascus, could have been so famous a pharaoh of Egypt as well. One of Egypt’s greatest, in fact. Whatever may have been the actual ethnicity of Amenhotep-Ben-Hadad-Abdi-ashirta, his successor, Amenhotep (so-called IV), or Akhnaton (Akhenaten), was undoubtedly a Syrian. For I have identified Akhnaton biblically with Na’aman the Syrian, the leper who was cured owing to the intervention of the prophet Elisha. Due to Na’aman’s total conversion to Yahwism, the Lord would order the prophet Elijah to anoint him as “king over Aram [Syria]” (I Kings 19:15), to wipe out Baalism from the land. Na’aman, though a commoner, a “son of nobody” as the ancients called it, would thus rise to the throne of Syria as Hazael, by assassinating his master, Ben-Hadad I. This fact adds a vital new dimension to Dr. Velikovsky’s view that pharaoh Akhnaton was the model for the Greek king, Oedipus. While Velikovsky had never gone so far as to have suggested that Akhnaton killed his father, as Oedipus is famously said to have done, the fact is that he, if he really were Hazael, had actually done this. This explains how a most unlikely person, Hazael-Amenhotep-Akhnaton, had managed to come to the throne of Egypt. Apart from identifying EA’s Abdi-ashirta as Ben-Hadad I, Dr. Velikovsky had logically identified Ben-Hadad I’s regicide successor, Hazael, as Aziru, the king of Amurru (Syria) who would succeed the slain Abdi-ashirta. Velikovsky drew some compelling comparisons between Hazael and Aziru. This was a strong, tour de force, aspect of his Ages in Chaos I (1952) thesis, praised by later revisionists. It became something of a foundation for my university thesis (2007): A Revised History of the Era of King Hezekiah of Judah and its Background (5) Thesis 2: A Revised History of the Era of King Hezekiah of Judah and its Background | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu Had Velikovsky gone a step further, and identified Aziru (Hazael) with the similarly-named Syrian, Irsu (Arsa), of the Great Harris Papyrus [GHP], as I have done, then he would have realised that Aziru had also come to control Egypt - though not as an invader, apparently - and had wrought there a religious revolution. Though GHP presents this revolution negatively, from the traditional Egyptian point of view, it could also be likened, from a different angle, to the religious revolution of pharaoh Akhnaton, which I believe it was. Akhnaton was also found to have been the model for Manetho’s semi-legendary Osarsiph, who, interestingly – in my context of Akhnaton’s being the formerly leprous Na’aman – was associated with lepers. Part Two: As an official in Egypt before he became Akhnaton We can know something about Akhnaton’s pre-regnal years and character if he was, as I think, the Syrian Na’aman (2 Kings 5:1): “Now Naaman was commander of the army of the king of Aram [Syria]. He was a great man in the sight of his master and highly regarded, because through him the LORD had given victory to Aram. He was a valiant soldier, but he had leprosy”. From verses 2-3, we learn that this Na’aman had a wife, and a captive Israelite slave girl, who was desirous of her master approaching the prophet Elisha for a curing of his leprosy. Unlike the king of Syria, Ben-Hadad I, who was quite happy for his army commander to visit the prophet of Samaria, the king of Israel, presumably Ahab, an inveterate foe of the Syrians, was horrified after the king of Syria had sent him an introductory letter (v. 7): “As soon as the king of Israel read the letter, he tore his robes and said, ‘Am I God? Can I kill and bring back to life? Why does this fellow send someone to me to be cured of his leprosy? See how he is trying to pick a quarrel with me!’” Na’aman was a generous man, and presumably wealthy (v. 5): “So Naaman left, taking with him ten talents of silver, six thousand shekels of gold and ten sets of clothing”. See also v. 23. He was a cavalryman (v. 9): “So Naaman went with his horses and chariots and stopped at the door of Elisha’s house”. Na’aman was also proud. He wanted a quick cure for which he would pay handsomely. But Elisha wanted from him a complete change of heart. Vv. 10-12: Elisha sent a messenger to say to him, ‘Go, wash yourself seven times in the Jordan, and your flesh will be restored and you will be cleansed’. But Naaman went away angry and said, ‘I thought that he would surely come out to me and stand and call on the name of the LORD his God, wave his hand over the spot and cure me of my leprosy. Are not Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Couldn’t I wash in them and be cleansed?’ So he turned and went off in a rage. Did the captive Israelite girl help to change his mind? Vv. 13-14: Naaman’s servants went to him and said, “My father, if the prophet had told you to do some great thing, would you not have done it? How much more, then, when he tells you, ‘Wash and be cleansed’!” So he went down and dipped himself in the Jordan seven times, as the man of God had told him, and his flesh was restored and became clean like that of a young boy. Humility and ‘baptism’. Na’aman was fully converted to the one God (v. 17): ‘… please let me, your servant, be given as much earth as a pair of mules can carry, for your servant will never again make burnt offerings and sacrifices to any other god but the LORD’. That he was the king of Syria’s right-hand man, having even a liturgical role, may be gleaned from v. 18: ‘But may the LORD forgive your servant for this one thing: When my master enters the temple of Rimmon to bow down and he is leaning on my arm and I have to bow there also—when I bow down in the temple of Rimmon, may the LORD forgive your servant for this’. Now, given my argument that Na’aman (who became Hazael king of Syria), would also become pharaoh Akhnaton, and that Na’aman had formerly served Ben-Hadad I, who was also pharaoh Amenhotep ‘the Magnificent’, then it is logical that we would expect to find amongst pharaoh Amenhotep’s officials one who mirrors - because he was - this Na’aman. Before attempting to identify Na’aman the Syrian as a high military official of pharaoh Amenhotep, though, we need to consider what were Akhnaton’s origins. Generally thought to have been the second son of pharaoh Amenhotep and his wife, Queen Tiy, Amenhotep, as Akhnaton was called, is a figure of almost complete obscurity for Egyptologists: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Akhenaten Egyptologists know very little about Akhenaten's life as prince Amenhotep. Donald B. Redford dates his birth before his father Amenhotep III's 25th regnal year, c. 1363–1361 BC, based on the birth of Akhenaten's first daughter, who was likely born fairly early in his own reign.[4][52] The only mention of his name, as "the King's Son Amenhotep," was found on a wine docket at Amenhotep III's Malkata palace, where some historians suggested Akhenaten was born. Others contend that he was born at Memphis, where growing up he was influenced by the worship of the sun god Ra practiced at nearby Heliopolis.[53] Redford and James K. Hoffmeier state, however, that Ra's cult was so widespread and established throughout Egypt that Akhenaten could have been influenced by solar worship even if he did not grow up around Heliopolis.[54][55] Some historians have tried to determine who was Akhenaten's tutor during his youth, and have proposed scribes Heqareshu or Meryre II, the royal tutor Amenemotep, or the vizier Aperel.[56] The only person we know for certain served the prince was Parennefer, whose tomb mentions this fact.[57] Egyptologist Cyril Aldred suggests that prince Amenhotep might have been a High Priest of Ptah in Memphis, although no evidence supporting this had been found.[58] It is known that Amenhotep's brother, crown prince Thutmose, served in this role before he died. If Amenhotep inherited all his brother's roles in preparation for his accession to the throne, he might have become a high priest in Thutmose's stead. Aldred proposes that Akhenaten's unusual artistic inclinations might have been formed during his time serving Ptah, the patron god of craftsmen, whose high priest were sometimes referred to as "The Greatest of the Directors of Craftsmanship."[59] …. Coregency with Amenhotep III[edit] There is much controversy around whether Amenhotep IV acceded to Egypt's throne on the death of his father Amenhotep III or whether there was a coregency, lasting perhaps as long as 12 years. Eric Cline, Nicholas Reeves, Peter Dorman, and other scholars argue strongly against the establishment of a long coregency between the two rulers and in favor of either no coregency or one lasting at most two years.[60] Donald B. Redford, William J. Murnane, Alan Gardiner, and Lawrence Berman contest the view of any coregency whatsoever between Akhenaten and his father.[61][62] Most recently, in 2014, archaeologists found both pharaohs' names inscribed on the wall of the Luxor tomb of vizier Amenhotep-Huy. The Egyptian Ministry of Antiquities called this "conclusive evidence" that Akhenaten shared power with his father for at least eight years, based on the dating of the tomb.[63] However, this conclusion has since been called into question by other Egyptologists, according to whom the inscription only means that construction on Amenhotep-Huy's tomb started during Amenhotep III's reign and ended under Akhenaten's, and Amenhotep-Huy thus simply wanted to pay his respects to both rulers.[64] …. This is all quite wrong, I believe. Amenhotep was not a prince, but was the pharaoh’s military commander, a commoner, with no thought of kingship. Did he not, as Hazael, say to the prophet Elisha? (2 Kings 8:13 ESV): ‘How could I possibly do a thing like that? I’m nothing but a dog. I don’t have that kind of power’. ‘Son of a nobody’. He did not live in the 1300’s BC, but about half a millennium later than this. Nor was he ever co-regent with his former master-king whom he slew. To find early Akhnaton, as Amenhotep, we must look for pharaoh Amenhotep’s mirror-image officer of king Ben-Hadad I’s Na’aman, preferably being named, like his king, Amenhotep. And we seem to find him in the amazing character Amenhotep son of Hapu, a man of legendary status: Amenhotep son of Hapu had rôle like Senenmut (13) Amenhotep son of Hapu had rôle like Senenmut | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu Amenhotep son of Hapu mirrors Na’aman in his titles, as a commoner who made good, a military commander, and right-hand man of the pharaoh, with a liturgical rôle. Egyptologist Joann Fletcher offers us a glimpse of his extraordinary power (Egypt’s Sun King. Amenhotep III, Duncan Baird, 2000, p. 51): In an unprecedented move, Amenhotep III gave extensive religious powers to his closest official and namesake, Amenhotep son of Hapu, not only placing the scribe’s statuary throughout Amun’s temple, but also granting his servant powers almost equal to his own: inscriptions on the statues state that Amenhotep son of Hapu would intercede with Amun himself on behalf of those who approached. The king’s chosen man, who was not a member of Amun’s clergy, could act as intermediary between the people and the gods on the king’s behalf, bypassing the priesthood altogether. …. [End of quote] In light of what we learned, however, in: Solomon and Sheba https://www.academia.edu/3660164/Solomon_and_Sheba the powers accorded by pharaoh Amenhotep to his namesake, the son of Hapu, were not “unprecedented”. All of this - and perhaps even more - had already been bestowed upon Senenmut, the ‘power behind the throne’ of Pharaoh Hatshepsut. I have identified this Senenmut as King Solomon in Egypt. Titles Amenhotep son of Hapu, likewise, had some most imposing titles (http://euler.slu.edu/~bart/egyptianhtml/kings%20and%20Queens/Amenhotep-Hapu.html): Hereditary prince, count, sole companion, fan-bearer on the king's right hand, chief of the king's works even all the great monuments which are brought, of every excellent costly stone; steward of the King's-daughter of the king's-wife, Sitamen, who liveth; overseer of the cattle of Amon in the South and North, chief of the prophets of Horus, lord of Athribis, festival leader of Amon. …. Several inscriptions outline his career and show how he rose through the ranks. Amenhotep started off as a king's scribe as mentioned on his statue: I was appointed to be inferior king's-scribe; I was introduced into the divine book, I beheld the excellent things of Thoth; I was equipped with their secrets; I opened all their [passages (?)]; one took counsel with me on all their matters. After distinguishing himself, Amenhotep was promoted to the position of Scribe of Recruits: ... he put all the people subject to me, and the listing of their number under my control, as superior king's-scribe over recruits. I levied the (military) classes of my lord, my pen reckoned the numbers of millions; I put them in [classes (?)] in the place of their [elders (?)]; the staff of old age as his beloved son. I taxed the houses with the numbers belonging thereto, I divided the troops (of workmen) and their houses, I filled out the subjects with the best of the captivity, which his majesty had captured on the battlefield. I appointed all their troops (Tz.t), I levied -------. I placed troops at the heads of the way(s) to turn back the foreigners in their places. Amenhotep mentions being on a campaign to Nubia. I was the chief at the head of the mighty men, to smite the Nubians [and the Asiatics (?)], the plans of my lord were a refuge behind me; [when I wandered (?)] his command surrounded me; his plans embraced all lands and all foreigners who were by his side. I reckoned up the captives of the victories of his majesty, being in charge of them. Later he was promoted to "Chief of all works", thereby overseeing the building program of Pharaoh Amenhotep III. His connections to court finally led to Amenhotep being appointed as Steward to Princess-Queen Sitamen. The career of Amenhotep son of Hapu in relation to Egypt reminds me in many ways of that of that other quasi-royal (but supposed commoner), Senenmut, or Senmut, at the time of Pharaoh Hatshepsut. Amenhotep son of Hapu is in fact so close a replica of Senenmut that I would have to think that he had modelled himself greatly on the latter. Senenmut was to pharaoh Hatshepsut also a Great Steward, and he was to princess Neferure her mentor and steward. So was Amenhotep son of Hapu to pharaoh Amenhotep III a Great Steward, and he was to princess Sitamun (Sitamen) her mentor and steward. Egyptologists are very wrong, again, in thinking that neither Senenmut (= Solomon) nor Amenhotep (= Na’aman-Akhnaton) ever married. Sir Alan Gardiner had claimed, in the Introduction to his Egyptian Grammar, that the ancient Egyptians were the least philosophical of peoples. And Dietrich Wildung (Gottwerdung im alten Ägypten, Münchner ägyptologische Studien) considered that ancient Egypt had produced only two geniuses, Imhotep and Amenhotep, both of whom became revered as saints. But neither Imhotep nor Amenhotep was even a native Egyptian. Imhotep was the great Hebrew patriarch, Joseph: Joseph in Egypt’s Eleventh Dynasty, Moses in Egypt’s Twelfth Dynasty (4) Joseph in Egypt’s Eleventh Dynasty, Moses in Egypt's Twelfth Dynasty Whilst Amenhotep son of Hapu was, as I am now proposing, a Syrian.

Sunday, January 12, 2025

Great King Hezekiah, archaeologically verified, but somewhat poorly known

by Damien F. Mackey ‘I’ve never read a King Hezekiah of Judah like that before’. Professor Rifaat Ebied Such was basically the comment made by professor Rifaat Ebied of the Department of Hebrew, Biblical and Jewish Studies (University of Sydney), upon having read the draft of my doctoral thesis (2007): A Revised History of the Era of King Hezekiah of Judah and its Background AMAIC_Final_Thesis_2009.pdf However, as often occurred to me whilst writing that thesis, King Hezekiah of Judah, though presumably the focal point of the thesis, remained for the most part a largely obscure figure, unlike some of his contemporaries whom I was able to develop in far more detail. But, firstly, how did this thesis come about? Providentially, I would suggest (appropriately writing this early in the Holy Jubilee Year of 2025). In the (Holy) Year 2000 AD, professor Ebied asked me if I would like to do a doctoral thesis, and he gave me the choice of the era of King Hezekiah of Judah, or the era of King Josiah of Judah. I, having at that stage absolutely no clear-cut ideas about the era of king Josiah, jumped at the chance to write about the era of King Hezekiah. The reason for this was that I had already spent almost two decades trying to ascertain an historical locus for the Book of Judith and had finally come to, what was all along the obvious conclusion, that the Judith drama was all about the destruction of Sennacherib of Assyria’s 185,000-strong army during the reign of Hezekiah. Let us pause for a moment, though, to consider the historicity of King Hezekiah of Judah, as affirmed by archaeological finds. Bryan Windle has written on this (2019 – I do not necessarily accept his BC dates): https://biblearchaeologyreport.com/2019/10/04/king-hezekiah-an-archaeological-biography/ King Hezekiah: An Archaeological Biography …. Hezekiah reigned as King of Judah from 716 to 687 BC, after having ruled for approximately 13 years in a co-regency with his father Ahaz. …. In 2 Chronicles 29:1-2 we read, “Hezekiah began to reign when he was twenty-five years old, and he reigned twenty-nine years in Jerusalem. His mother’s name was Abijah the daughter of Zechariah. And he did what was right in the eyes of the Lord, according to all that David his father had done.” He is, perhaps, best known for this religious reforms and for his stand against the Assyrian invasion of Judah by Sennacherib in 701 BC. Hezekiah Bulla Multiple bullae (clay seal impressions) of King Hezekiah have been found. While most have come via the antiquities market, in 2015 Dr. Eilat Mazar announced that another Hezekiah bulla had been discovered while wet-sifting material excavated from a refuse dump in a Royal Building at the Ophel. …. The bulla is about one centimeter in diameter bears an ancient Hebrew inscription: “לחזקיהו [בן] אחז מלך יהדה” “Belonging to Hezekiah [son of] Ahaz king of Judah” The seal impression also depicts a two-winged sun and ankh symbols. Scholars at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem explained the iconography this way: “The symbols on the seal impression from the Ophel suggest that they were made late in his life, when both the Royal administrative authority and the King’s personal symbols changed from the winged scarab (dung beetle)—the symbol of power and rule that had been familiar throughout the Ancient Near East, to that of the winged sun—a motif that proclaimed God’s protection, which gave the regime its legitimacy and power, also widespread throughout the Ancient Near East and used by the Assyrian Kings.”…. The Hezekiah bulla affirms not only Hezekiah’s historicity, but his lineage as well, affirming these biblical details about his life. Evidence of Religious Reforms Hezekiah was instrumental in leading the people of Judah away from idolatry and back to the worship of Yahweh. In 2 Kings 18:4 we read, “He removed the high places and broke the pillars and cut down the Asherah. And he broke in pieces the bronze serpent that Moses had made, for until those days the people of Israel had made offerings to it (it was called Nehushtan).” Evidence of Hezekiah’s religious reforms have been discovered at Arad, Beer-Sheba, Lachish, Tell Motza, and Tell Lahif. …. For example, the famous four-horned alter at Beer-Sheba was dismantled during Hezekiah’s reign and three of its four horns were found in secondary use in a wall, indicating the structure was no longer considered sacred. At Lachish, a gate-shrine was unearthed in 2016. Two small horned alters were discovered, whose horns had been broken off, and a toilet had been placed in the shrine as a symbolic act of desecration (2 Kings 10:27). …. Hezekiah’s Tunnel and Broad Wall Perhaps the defining moment in King Hezekiah’s life occurred when Sennacherib, King of Assyria came to attack Jerusalem. Hezekiah received word prior to the impending invasion, giving him enough time to improve the city’s fortifications and build a tunnel to bring water into the city. In 2 Chron. 32:2-4, 30 we read: “When Hezekiah saw that Sennacherib had come and that he intended to make war on Jerusalem, he consulted with his officials and military staff about blocking off the water from the springs outside the city, and they helped him. A large force of men assembled, and they blocked all the springs and the stream that flowed through the land. “Why should the kings of Assyria come and find plenty of water?” they said …. It was Hezekiah who blocked the upper outlet of the Gihon spring and channeled the water down to the west side of the City of David.” 2 Kings 20:20 further summarizes Hezekiah’s life: “As for the other events of Hezekiah’s reign, all his achievements and how he made the pool and the tunnel by which he brought water into the city, are they not written in the book of the annals of the kings of Judah?” An ancient aqueduct, dating to the time of King Hezekiah, was discovered by Edwin Robinson in 1838. Several years later an inscription was discovered in the tunnel which recorded how it had been built. Written in ancient Paleo-Hebrew and dated to the 8th century BC, the inscription reads, And this was the way in which it was cut through: While [the quarrymen were] still […] axes, each man toward his fellow, and while there were still three cubits to be cut through, [there was heard] the voice of a man calling to his fellow, for there was an overlap in the rock on the right [and on the left]. And when the tunnel was driven through, the quarrymen hewed [the rock], each man towards his fellow, axe against axe; and the water flowed from the spring toward the reservoir for 1,200 cubits, and the height of the rock above the heads of the quarrymen was a hundred cubits….. Within the Jewish Quarter of Jerusalem, archaeologists unearthed further evidence of Hezekiah’s preparation for war. The Broad Wall, as it is known today, is a 7m thick defensive fortification that still stands 3.3 m tall in some places. It was built by Hezekiah to enclose the Western Hill and it increased the defensive walls of the city five-fold. …. Sennacherib’s Attack Sennacherib’s invasion of Judah is recorded in 2 Kings 18:13 “In the fourteenth year of King Hezekiah, Sennacherib king of Assyria came up against all the fortified cities of Judah and took them.” This was in response to Hezekiah’s rebellion against the Assyrian king, refusing to serve him as a vassal (2 Kings 18:7). The Bible isn’t the only ancient text that describes this attack, however; multiple copies of the Annals of Sennacerib [sic] have been unearthed. The Taylor Prism, the Oriental Institute Prism and the Jerusalem prism are three clay prisms that contain the same text describing events from the reign of Sennacherib. The Taylor Prism was discovered in 1830 by Colonol [sic] Robert Taylor while excavating the ancient Assyrian capital of Nineveh. On it, Sennacherib boasts: “As for Hezekiah the Judahite who had not submitted to my yoke, I surrounded 46 of his strong walled towns, and innumerable small places around them, and conquered them by means of earth ramps and siege engines, attack by infantrymen, mining, breaching, and scaling. 200,150 people of all ranks, men and women, horses, mules, donkeys, camels, cattle and sheep without number I brought out and counted as spoil. He himself I shut up in Jerusalem, his royal city, like a bird in a cage. I put watch-posts around him, and made it impossible for anyone to go out of his city.” …. Sennacherib also states, “Now the fear of my lordly splendor overwhelmed that Hezekiah” … and he confirms that the Judahite King did indeed pay him tribute (2 Kings 18:14). It is interesting to note that Sennacherib does not boast of destroying Jerusalem, but merely shutting Hezekiah up in his royal city “like a bird in a cage.” This would be consistent with the biblical description of God’s rescue of his people and Sennacherib’s return to Assyria without conquering Jerusalem (2 Kings 19:35-36). Mackey’s comment: But Sennacherib had conquered Jerusalem in this his 9th Campaign. The miraculous deliverance of the city would occur some years later, during a second Assyrian invasion. Bryan Windle concludes: Summary The account in the Bible of Hezekiah’s life, his religious reforms and his stand against Sennacherib, King of Assyria, align with what is known about him from the archaeological record. He was one of the greatest kings Judah had ever had. In Scripture, his life is summarized this way: “He trusted in the Lord, the God of Israel, so that there was none like him among all the kings of Judah after him, nor among those who were before him.” (2 Kings 18:5). King Hezekiah of Judah King Hezekiah, quite a formidable historical figure, whom his neo-Assyrian opponent King Sennacherib described as “the strong, proud Hezekiah” (Sennacherib’s Bull Inscriptions), and who reigned for almost three decades (2 Kings 18:2), tends to disappear from the scene of conflict after about his 14th year, the year of his sickness. Yet this was well before the confrontation with the ill-fated army of Sennacherib. More recently, though, I have managed to enlarge Hezekiah considerably, by identifying him with the similarly good and pious king of Judah, Josiah (one of professor Ebied’s two points of reference). For my arguments on this, and for my radical revision of the later kings of Judah, see e.g. my articles: Damien F. Mackey’s A Tale of Two Theses (4) Damien F. Mackey's A Tale of Two Theses | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu and: Necessary fusion of Hezekiah and Josiah (4) Necessary fusion of Hezekiah and Josiah | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu I have also enlarged King Hezekiah scripturally by proposing that: “Lemuel” of Proverbs could be Hezekiah rather than Solomon (3) "Lemuel" of Proverbs could be Hezekiah rather than Solomon by | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu and, too, with my most radical identification of him with two supposedly very ancient rulers of Lagash in Sumer (my Lachish in Judah): Called Sumerian History, but isn’t (6) Called Sumerian History, but isn’t. and: Hezekiah withstands Assyria - Lumma withstands Umma (3) Hezekiah withstands Assyria - Lumma withstands Umma | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu King Sennacherib of Assyria This notorious king of Assyria I had already enlarged in my thesis by multi-identifying him, especially in Volume One, Chapter 6. His chief alter ego, I had concluded, was the potent Sargon II. I have since written further articles on this fusion of supposedly two Assyrian mega-kings, along the lines of e.g: Assyrian King Sargon II, Otherwise Known As Sennacherib https://www.academia.edu/6708474/Assyrian_King_Sargon_II_Otherwise_Known_As_Sennacherib My other move on Sennacherib at that time involved the necessary (in terms of the revision) folding of so-called ‘Middle’ Assyro-Babylonian history with ‘Neo’ Assyro-Babylonian history. Revised attempts at this so far do not seem to have been very successful. I thought that I had found the perfect solution with my folding of the mighty Middle Babylonian king, Nebuchednezzar so-called I, conventionally dated to the C12th BC - he, I then declared to have been ‘the Babylonian face’ of Sargon II/Sennacherib. Such an identification, which seemed to have massive support from the succession of Shutrukid-Elamite kings of the time having names virtually identical to the succession of Elamite kings at the time of Sargon II/Sennacherib (see Table 1 below), had the further advantage of providing Sargon II/Sennacherib with the name, “Nebuchednezzar”, just as the Assyrian king is named in the Book of Judith (“Nebuchadnezzar”). My more recent collapsing of the late neo-Assyrian era into the early neo-Babylonian era has caused me to drop the identification of Nebuchednezzar I with Sargon II/ Sennacherib. Aligning Neo Babylonia with Book of Daniel (4) Aligning Neo-Babylonia with the Book of Daniel | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu More appropriately, now, Nebuchednezzar I might be found to have been Nebuchednezzar so-called II. Fortunately though, with this tightened chronology, the impressive Shutrukid-Elamite parallels that I had established in my thesis might still remain viable. Having rejected my former folding of Nebuchednezzar so-called I with Sargon II/ Sennacherib the question must be asked, ‘At what point does Middle fold with Neo?’ Hopefully, I had identified that very point of fusion in my thesis (see next). King Merodach-baladan of Babylonia Here, I shall simply reproduce part of what I wrote about the best point of folding in my thesis (Chapter 7, beginning on p. 180): So, with what ‘Middle’ Babylonian period are we to merge the ‘Neo’ Babylonian Merodach-baladan [II], in order to show that VLTF [Velikovsky’s Lowering on Timescale by 500 Years] is convincing for this part of the world as well at this particular time? Actually, there is a perfect opportunity for such a merger with one who is considered - perhaps rightly - to have been one of the last Kassite kings: namely, Merodach-baladan [I] (c. 1173-1161 BC, conventional dates). Now, as I have emphasized in the course of this thesis, identical names do not mean identical persons. However, there is more similarity between Merodach-baladan I and II than just the name I would suggest. For instance: • There is the (perhaps suspicious?) difficulty in distinguishing between the building efforts of Merodach-baladan [I] and Merodach-baladan [II]: Four kudurrus ..., taken together with evidence of his building activity in Borsippa ... show Merodach-baladan I still master in his own domain. The bricks recording the building of the temple of Eanna in Uruk ..., assigned to Merodach-baladan I by the British Museum’s A Guide to the Babylonian and Assyrian Antiquities ... cannot now be readily located in the Museum for consultation; it is highly probable, however, that these bricks belong to Merodach-baladan II (see Studies Oppenheim, p. 42 ...). Further: • Wiseman contends that Merodach-baladan I was in fact a king of the Second Isin Dynasty which is thought to have succeeded the Kassites. Brinkman, whilst calling this view “erroneous”, has conceded that: “The beginnings of [the Second Dynasty of Isin] ... are relatively obscure”. • There is the same approximate length of reign over Babylonia for Merodach-baladan [I] and [II]. Twelve years as king of Babylon for Merodach-baladan II, as we have already discussed. And virtually the same in the case of Merodach-baladan I: The Kassite Dynasty, then, continued relatively vigorous down through the next two reigns, including that of Merodach-baladan I, the thirty-fourth and third-last king of the dynasty, who reigned some thirteen years .... Up through this time, kudurrus show the king in control of the land in Babylonia. • Merodach-baladan I was approximately contemporaneous with the Elamite succession called Shutrukids. Whilst there is some doubt as to the actual sequence of events - Shutruk-Nahhunte is said to have been the father of Kudur-Nahhunte - the names of three of these kings are identical to those of Sargon II’s/ Sennacherib’s Elamite foes, supposedly about four centuries later. Now, consider further these striking parallels between the C12th BC and the neo-Assyrian period, to be developed below: Table 1: Comparison of the C12th BC (conventional) and C8th BC C12th BC • Some time before Nebuchednezzar I, there reigned in Babylon a Merodach-baladan [I]. • The Elamite kings of this era carried names such as Shutruk-Nahhunte and his son, Kudur-Nahhunte. • Nebuchednezzar I fought a hard battle with a ‘Hulteludish’ (Hultelutush-Inshushinak). C8th BC • The Babylonian ruler for king Sargon II’s first twelve years was a Merodach-baladan [II]. • SargonII/Sennacherib fought against the Elamites, Shutur-Nakhkhunte & Kutir-Nakhkhunte. • Sennacherib had trouble also with a ‘Hallushu’ (Halutush-Inshushinak). Too spectacular I think to be mere coincidence! [End of quotes] Who of Hezekiah and his contemporaries re-emerge in Judith? Interfacing the era of King Hezekiah of Judah with the drama of the Book of Judith. The historical event [in Judith 1] … is Sargon II of Assyria’s Year 12 campaign against the troublesome Merodach-baladan and his Elamite allies. About half a dozen of King Hezekiah’s contemporaries may be found, I believe, amongst the rather small cast of the drama of the Book of Judith. Four of these characters have names that are nicely compatible the one with the other, whilst the rest have ‘dud’ names in accordance with what I wrote in my article: Book of Judith: confusion of names https://www.academia.edu/36599434/Book_of_Judith_confusion_of_names The Book of Judith opens with a major war (Judith 1:1-6): While King Nebuchadnezzar was ruling over the Assyrians from his capital city of Nineveh, King Arphaxad ruled over the Medes from his capital city of Ecbatana. Around Ecbatana King Arphaxad built a wall 105 feet high and 75 feet thick of cut stones; each stone was 4 1/2 feet thick and 9 feet long. At each gate he built a tower 150 feet high, with a foundation 90 feet thick. Each gateway was 105 feet high and 60 feet wide—wide enough for his whole army to march through, with the infantry in formation. In the twelfth year of his reign King Nebuchadnezzar went to war against King Arphaxad in the large plain around the city of Rages. Many nations joined forces with King Arphaxad—all the people who lived in the mountains, those who lived along the Tigris, Euphrates, and Hydaspes rivers, as well as those who lived in the plain ruled by King Arioch of Elam. Many nations joined this Chelodite alliance. This is describing, as I have argued, an actual historical war. However, owing to the insertion of those ‘dud’ names as mentioned above, it is now extremely difficult to identify which historical event it is. The historical event that it is, is Sargon II of Assyria’s Year 12 campaign against the troublesome Merodach-baladan the Chaldean (“Chelodite” above) and his Elamite allies. https://www.ukessays.com/essays/history/sargon-ii-the-assyrian-king-history-essay.php After [Sargon II] secured his empire, he began his military activity against the Elamites in Babylon who were allies of Merodach-Baladan king of Babylon. …. in his 12th year in 710 he defeats and gets rid of Merodach-Baladan king of Babylon. For the first time ever Sargon makes himself the official king of Babylon in 710 B.C …. After the defeat of Merodach-Baladan he devotes most of 710 B.C campaigning against the Aramean tribes. The Arameans are known as the bandits to the Assyrian people and had always been their enemies. …. “Nebuchadnezzar” here is Sargon II, who is also Sennacherib. It was common in antiquity for King Sennacherib to be confused with King Nebuchednezzar (see “confusion of names” article above). “Arphaxad” here can only be Merodach-baladan, a biblical king who figures e.g. in Isaiah 39:1. The king doing the city building may actually be Sargon, not Merodach-baladan (“Arphaxad”), the Assyrian king building his fabulous new city of Dur Sharrukin, not “Ecbatana”: A Description of the Building of Sargon II's City in the Book of Judith https://www.academia.edu/3704934/A_Description_of_the_Building_of_Sargon_IIs_City_in_the_Book_of_Judith “King Arioch of Elam” here is Tobit’s nephew, Ahikar, who governed Elam for the Assyrians. Judith 1:6, though, is a gloss, because Ahikar was not then governing the Elamites, but only later. See e.g. my article: “Arioch, King of the Elymeans” (Judith 1:6) https://www.academia.edu/28190921/_Arioch_King_of_the_Elymeans_Judith_1_6_ Later in the Book of Judith (5:1) he will be referred to as “Achior, the leader of all the Ammonites”, leading commentators naturally to conclude that Achior was an Ammonite, who converted to Yahwism, which is highly controversial in relation to Deuteronomic Law. But he was in reality a northern Israelite, as more properly described in Judith 6:2: “And who art thou, Achior, and the hirelings of Ephraim, that thou hast prophesied against us as to day …?” As “Arioch”, Achior may re-emerge in the Book of Daniel - according to my tightened chronology - as “Arioch” the high official of King Nebuchednezzar (Daniel 2:14-23). Ahikar-Achior is a most famous historical character, a revered sage down through the ages, known in the Assyrian records as Aba-enil-dari. Achior is the first of our Hezekian-Judith interface characters to bear a consistent name, he, Ahikar, actually being called “Achior” in the Vulgate version of the Book of Tobit. The other recognisable names are Eliakim (Eliachim) the high priest in the Vulgate Judith 4:5: Sacerdos etiam Eliachim scripsit ad universos qui erant contra Esdrelon, quae est contra faciem campi magni juxta Dothain …. elsewhere named as “Joakim”. He is King Hezekiah’s chief official, Eliakim: Hezekiah’s Chief Official Eliakim was High Priest https://www.academia.edu/31701765/Hezekiahs_Chief_Official_Eliakim_was_High_Priest In Judith 6:15 we first encounter “Uzziah son of Micah”. These names represent two famous prophets of the era of King Hezekiah, namely Isaiah and his father Amos, or Micah: Prophet Micah as Amos https://www.academia.edu/27351718/Prophet_Micah_as_Amos Isaiah must have accompanied his father Amos to the northern Bethel (Amos 7:10-14) where we know Isaiah as the prophet Hosea. By the time of Judith, he, now named Uzziah, had become chief official of the town of Bethel, which was Judith’s city of Bethulia, or Shechem: Judith’s City of ‘Bethulia’. Part Two (ii): Shechem https://www.academia.edu/34737759/Judiths_City_of_Bethulia._Part_Two_ii_Shechem “Holofernes” and Bagoas” “Holofernes” and “Bagoas” are further ‘dud’ names, they being non-Assyrian, that have found their way into the Book of Judith. The correct name for the Assyrian military leader, “Holofernes”, in the Book of Judith, is to be found in the Book of Tobit 14:10. It is “Nadin” (var. “Nadab”). Tobit, now near death, recalls the incident in which Nadin (“Holofernes”) had double-crossed his apparently former mentor and his uncle, Ahikar (“Achior”): ‘Remember what Nadin did to Ahikar his own uncle who had brought him up. He tried to kill Ahikar and forced him to go into hiding in a tomb. Ahikar came back into the light of day, but God sent Nadin down into everlasting darkness for what he had done. Ahikar escaped the deadly trap which Nadin had set for him, because Ahikar had given generously to the poor. But Nadin fell into that fatal trap and it destroyed him. The “deadly trap” laid by “Holofernes” was this (Judith 6:7-9): ‘Now my men will take you into the mountains and leave you in one of the Israelite towns, and you will die with the people there. Why look so worried, Achior? Don't you think the town can stand against me? I [Holofernes] will carry out all my threats; you can be sure of that!’ But the heroine Judith would turn all of that on its head, so to speak, so that it would be ‘Nadin [who] fell into that fatal trap and it destroyed him’. For more on this, see: “Nadin” (Nadab) of Tobit is the “Holofernes” of Judith https://www.academia.edu/36576110/_Nadin_Nadab_of_Tobit_is_the_Holofernes_of_Judith This Nadin (“Holofernes”) was Sennacherib’s eldest son, Ashur-nadin-shumi, known to have been slain in enemy territory – but wrongly thought to have been killed in Elam. Ben Dewar, writing of Ashur-nadin-shumi in his article: Rebellion, Sargon II's “Punishment” and the Death of Aššur-nādin-šumi in the Inscriptions of Sennacherib https://www.academia.edu/36189988/Rebellion_Sargon_IIs_Punishment_and_the_Death_of_A%C5%A1%C5%A1ur-n%C4%81din-%C5%A1umi_in_the_Inscriptions_of_Sennacherib will have this to say in his Abstract: …. A second instance of a death in Sennacherib’s family affecting the content of his inscriptions is also identified. His son Aššur-nādin-šumi’s death followed a pair of campaigns to the borders of Tabal, the location of Sargon’s death [sic]. Because of this it was viewed as a “punishment” for undertaking these campaigns to regions tainted by association with Sargon. After his death, Aššur-nādin-šumi is never mentioned in the same inscription as these campaigns. Although Sennacherib generally avoids mentioning rebellion, overcoming such events was an important facet of Assyrian royal ideology. Because of this, events in some ideologically or historically significant regions are explicitly stated to be rebellions in the annals. Sennacherib’s inscriptions therefore demonstrate, perhaps better than those of any other Assyrian king, the two sides of rebellion’s ideological importance as both an obstacle overcome by a heroic king, and as a punishment for a poor one. His attempts to obscure some occurrences of rebellion demonstrate a fear of the more negative ideological aspect of rebellion which is not usually present in the inscriptions of other kings. This provides new insight into the factors which influenced the composition of Sennacherib’s inscriptions. What I wrote in my university thesis on King Hezekiah of Judah (2007) about this situation was as follows: Another seemingly compelling evidence in favour of the conventional chronology, but one that has required heavy restoration work by the Assyriologists, is in regard to Sennacherib’s supposed accession. According to the usual interpretation of the eponym for Nashur(a)-bel, 705 BC, conventional dating, known as Eponym Cb6, Sargon was killed and Sennacherib then sat on the throne: “The king [against Tabal….] against Ešpai the Kulummaean. [……] The king was killed. The camp of the king of Assyria [was taken……]. On the 12th of Abu, Sennacherib, son of [Sargon took his seat on the throne]”. Tadmor informs us about this passage that: “Winckler and Delitzsch restored: [MU 16 Šarru-ki]n; ana Ta-ba-lu [illik]”. That is, these scholars took the liberty of adding Sargon’s name here. Jonsson, who note has included Sargon’s name in his version of the text, gives it more heavily bracketted than had Tadmor: … “[Year 17] Sargon [went] against Tabal [was killed in the war”. On the 12th of Abu Sennacherib, son of Sargon, sat on the throne]”. [End of quote] The incorrect (non-Assyrian) name, “Holofernes”, and also, “Bagoas”, must be late insertions into the Book of Judith, based on the very unreliable Diodorus Siculus, C1st BC (conventional dating), who told of an “Orophernes” and a “Bagoas” among the commanders of a campaign of Artaxerxes III ‘Ochus’ (c. 359-338 BC, conventional dating). See Ida Fröhlich, Time and Times and Half a Time (p. 118). For historical uncertainties surrounding Artaxerxes III ‘Ochus’ see e.g. my articles: Artaxerxes III and the Book of Judith (8) Artaxerxes III and the Book of Judith and: Medo-Persian history has nor adequate archaeology (8) Medo-Persian history has no adequate archaeology According to the above, the “Holofernes” of the Book of Judith was King Sennacherib’s eldest son, Ashur-nadin-shumi (the “Nadin” of Tobit 14:10), who was - like his father, Sennacherib - a contemporary of King Hezekiah. That being the case, which Assyrian contemporary of King Hezekiah was Assyria’s second-in-command on this campaign against Israel, “Bagoas”? Well, basing myself on a Jewish tradition that the future Nebuchednezzar himself was on this ill-fated campaign, and also on my crunching of neo-Assyrian into neo-Babylonian history, I have suggested that a possible candidate for “Bagoas” was that very Nebuchednezzar (= my Esarhaddon), another son of Sennacherib. See e.g. my article: An early glimpse of Nebuchednezzar? (4) An early glimpse of Nebuchednezzar? | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu

Wednesday, January 8, 2025

Parable of the Unjust Steward – Jesus here is using shock tactics

“The conclusion of the parable is startling, but that shouldn’t come as a surprise. As He so often does, Jesus is using a story to grab our attention and shake us out of our complacency”. Clement Harrold Clement Harrold has provided this helpful account of a most difficult parable: https://stpaulcenter.com/why-does-jesus-praise-the-unjust-steward/ Why Does Jesus Praise the Unjust Steward? By Clement Harrold February 23, 2024 The Parable of the Unjust Steward, also known as the Parable of the Dishonest Manager, appears only in Luke 16:1-13, and is arguably the most controversial of all of Jesus’s parables. The story revolves around a rich man who calls his steward to account for poor management of his estate. Faced with losing his position, yet unwilling to make a living as a laborer or through begging, the steward decides instead to summon his master’s debtors one by one. After asking each of them what they owe, he then acquits a large portion of their debts so as to ingratiate himself towards them ahead of his impending dismissal. Then comes the confusing part. The steward now has a track record of undermining his master’s financial interests. But when the master discovers everything that has taken place, rather than become angry at the steward, he praises him instead: The master commended the dishonest steward for his prudence; for the sons of this world are wiser in their own generation than the sons of light. And I tell you, make friends for yourselves by means of unrighteous mammon, so that when it fails they may receive you into the eternal habitations. (Lk 16:8-9) What’s going on here? The conclusion of the parable is startling, but that shouldn’t come as a surprise. As He so often does, Jesus is using a story to grab our attention and shake us out of our complacency. With that in mind, several things can be said about the proper interpretation of the passage. To begin with, we should notice that the master praises the unjust steward not for his dishonesty but for his prudence. Indeed, Jesus goes out of His way to clarify that those who are dishonest in small things will be dishonest in great things (v. 10), and He directly cautions against those who serve mammon over God (v. 13). Clearly, then, the steward in question is not being held up as a paragon of virtue; he may in fact be in grave spiritual danger. Nevertheless, while the moral conduct of the steward leaves something to be desired, the urgency with which he faces his predicament is admirable. In this sense, Jesus is employing what we might call an a fortiori argument: if even this unjust steward is willing to go to extreme lengths to save his livelihood, how much more so should Christians be willing to go to extreme lengths to save their souls. Jesus is expressing His frustration at the fact that the sons of this world often seem to show more resolve and acumen in tending to their worldly problems than Christians do in tending to their spiritual problems. And so, despite his many flaws, the unjust steward reacts to his plight in a manner which Christians should learn from. For one thing, the steward knows he is in a crisis, and he never tries to pretend otherwise; Jesus is reminding His listeners that they too must recognize the spiritual crisis of sin which they find themselves in. Additionally, the steward is honest about his weakness: “I am not strong enough to dig, and I am ashamed to beg” (v. 3). Once again, he acknowledges the reality in front of him, just as Christians need to admit their own frailties and their total dependence on divine grace. Finally, the unjust steward acts, and he does so decisively. Realizing his “judgment day” is drawing near, he wastes no time in using his master’s beneficence to get himself out of the hole in which he finds themself. Here, too, he shines forth as an unlikely but legitimate role model for Christians to follow. Just as the dishonest steward recognizes his dire straits and moves with great urgency to set things right, likewise Christians are called to acknowledge their sinful state and reject all spiritual complacency. There’s one more key to unlocking this parable, and it comes in verse 9: “I tell you, make friends for yourselves by means of unrighteous mammon, so that when it fails they may receive you into the eternal habitations.” In this verse, the worldly prudence of the steward becomes a model for Christian almsgiving. Readily appreciating the fleeting nature of human wealth, Jesus exhorts His followers to use their money for an eternal investment instead. Like the unjust steward, we ought to acknowledge the spiritual crisis in which we find ourselves, and we must recognize that our salvation is not assured. Viewed from this perspective, making donations to the poor becomes not just one nice deed among many, but an essential part of our sanctification. We need to give alms so that on judgment day the poor whom we helped in this life—the very poor in whom Christ Himself resides (see Mt 25:30-40)—will advocate for our entrance into the life to come. The central lesson of the Parable of the Unjust Steward, it seems, is that we need to take our eternal salvation seriously—and almsgiving is an integral part of that process. Clement Harrold is a graduate student in theology at the University of Notre Dame. His writings have appeared in First Things, Church Life Journal, Crisis Magazine, and the Washington Examiner. He earned his bachelor's degree from Franciscan University of Steubenville in 2021.

Suggestion that Herod Archelaus may figure in a Parable of Jesus

by Damien F. Mackey “Evidently, if the nobleman is modeled after Archelaus, as I am arguing, the journey was not military, but a diplomatic mission to secure the political patronage of an overlord for a client king”. Marcus K M Tso That Jesus may have been, to a greater or lesser extent, making reference in his Parables to real historical incidents was the subject matter of my article: Some of the Parables of Jesus may be based upon real events (2) Some of the Parables of Jesus may be based upon real events Since writing this I have come across two articles whose authors think that Jesus could well have had in mind the situation of Herod Archelaus in pursuit of the royal power. Firstly, Marcus K M Tso wrote this in his (2021) article: What if Jesus Is Not in This Parable? (1) What If Jesus Is Not in This Parable …. The nobleman who went to a distant country First, Luke’s parable begins by introducing the authoritative figure, not as a king, but as “a nobleman (Ἄνθρωπός τις εὐγενὴς) [who] went to a distant country to get royal power for himself and then return” (19:12). …. As hinted above, such a description of the main character in the parable can cause much confusion for the modern reader who is unfamiliar with the political background of Jesus’ times. One may misunderstand this figure to be an independent ruler who leaves his home base in a military or diplomatic campaign to gain control over some distant domain. However, interpreters familiar with the relevant historical context recognize that another picture is probably intended. The main source of that context is Josephus, who reports that after Herod the Great died and willed his kingdom to his son Herod Archelaus, the latter still had to leave Jerusalem and go to Rome to have Augustus Caesar confirm his appointment. …. [Ptolemy] opened and read [Herod’s] testament, wherein Philip was to inherit Trachonitis, and the neighboring countries, and Antipas was to be tetrarch, as we said before, and Archelaus was made king. [Ptolemy] had also been commanded to carry Herod’s ring to Caesar, and the settlements he had made, sealed up, because Caesar … was to confirm [Herod’s] testament … (Josephus, War 1.668-669 [1.33.8]) …. The passage above illustrates well why Luke’s authoritative figure is not described as a king outright. In the case of Archelaus, though he was one of King Herod’s sons (a certain man of noble birth, Ἄνθρωπός τις εὐγενὴς), and the one whom Herod had named in his will as the heir to his throne, his succession was not automatic, but subject to imperial ratification. The following passage further sheds light on the necessity of the nobleman’s long journey to secure his kingdom. Now the necessity which Archelaus was under of taking a journey to Rome was the occasion of new disturbances; for when he had mourned for his father seven days … he put on a white garment, and went up to the temple, where the people accosted him with various acclamations. He also spoke kindly to the multitude, from an elevated seat and a throne of gold, and returned them thanks for the zeal they had shown about his father’s funeral, and the submission they had made to him, as if he were already settled in the kingdom; but he told them withal, that he would not at present take upon him either the authority of a king, or the names thereto belonging, until Caesar, who is made lord of this whole affair by the testament, confirms the succession. (Josephus, War 2.1-2 [2.1.1]) …. Evidently, if the nobleman is modeled after Archelaus, as I am arguing, the journey was not military, but a diplomatic mission to secure the political patronage of an overlord for a client king. [End of quotes] Next we read in this 2023 article, “Jesus' Parable is Based on Real History”: https://www.itemsleftinthestudy.org/post/jesus-parable-is-based-on-real-history This past Sunday (April 30), we looked at Jesus’ parable of the Ten Minas (Luke 19:11-27). I made a comment about how this parable is a little different than the parable of the talents (Matthew 25:14-30), which is much more familiar to us. In fact, I do not remember ever hearing a sermon preached on the parable of the ten minas while I was growing up in the church. Many people look at these two parables and say that Jesus told one similar parable, and the New Testament writers (Matthew and Luke) changed the details to fit their contexts and audiences. I would disagree with this. Even though these two parables are similar in some of their details, these two parables are just that, two different parables told by Jesus at two different times. But the thing that I find interesting about the parable of the ten minas, is that this parable is based upon a historical event. I love history and enjoy learning about different historical events, whether that is American history or ancient history. I want to share with you the historical event that Jesus uses for the parable of the ten minas. But before we get to the actual historical event, we need to realize that this makes sense for Jesus to use historical events and everyday experiences to teach people about God and the Kingdom of God. Part of studying the parables of Jesus is to put ourselves into the proverbial shoes of Jesus’ first century audience. Jesus used images that people in first century were familiar with so that He could teach them about God and about the Kingdom of God. By definition, a parable is an everyday picture or story that usually teaches one spiritual truth. When we look at Jesus’ parables, we must realize that not every single detail in the parable means something. Yes, there are a few of Jesus’ parables that do not follow this definition (i.e., Parable of the Sower) but typically Jesus’ parables teach one truth. When we look at the parable of the ten minas, we see Jesus coming to Jerusalem and He will be welcomed as King (Luke 19:28-44). But the Jews believed that Jesus would enter Jerusalem, overthrow the Romans, and set up His kingdom (making Israel free again). But in Luke 19:11, Jesus tells the crowds a parable to help correct their wrong understandings about the Kingdom of God. Jesus is not entering Jerusalem to save the Israelites from the Romans; Jesus is entering to save them from their sins. In Luke 19:12 we read, “… A man of noble birth went to a distant country to have himself appointed king and then to return.” When Jesus’ audience heard those opening words of this parable, they all thought of how Herod Antipas and Archelaus became rulers over the nation of Israel around 4 BC. King Herod died in 4 BC. [sic] Before he dies, he changes his will for a third time, naming Archelaus as King and Archelaus’ brothers Antipas and Philip as tetrarchs. Archelaus makes it his first priority to travel to Rome after his father’s death to secure the emperor’s confirmation. Antipas also left to go to Rome to try and convince the emperor that he should become King and not his brother Archelaus because according to Herod’s second will, he was supposed to be appointed successor to the throne. In addition to Antipas and Archelaus heading to Rome, there were other family members who also went to Rome to express a strong desire to the emperor to not appoint Archelaus as King. All these people showed up in Rome and Caesar Augustus had to figure out who would be the next king. Caesar Augustus listened to both sides, but he did not want to make an immediate decision, so he dismissed everyone without issuing a final judgment. After several months of waiting, an embassy from the Jews arrived in Rome with the purpose of going before Augustus and trying to convince him of not appointing Archelaus or Antipas as king. Again, if we go back to Jesus’ parable, this is one of the things that happened to this “man of noble birth” (Luke 19:14). Also, around the same time the Jewish embassy arrived in Rome, King Herod’s third son, Philip, arrived in Rome to support Archelaus’ claims to be the next king. Finally, after a few days hearing from all sides, Caesar Augustus makes his decision. Archelaus receives the title of ethnarch, not king, and rules over the territories of Judea, Samaria, and Idumea. Antipas receives the title of tetrarch and rules over the territories of Galilee and Perea. Philip, the third brother, also receives the title of tetrarch and rules over the districts of Batanea, Trachonitis, Auranitis. King Herod’s territory was divided into three territories with one of his sons ruling each territory. When we understand this history, we now can understand the parable of the ten minas better. This is what Jesus’ audience already knew. So, when Jesus starts the parable, they immediately would have thought about these historical events. And just as the sons of Herod had to go to Rome to become king, Jesus is going to leave as well. He then will return and will judge. Those who put their faith and trust in him will be judged by their faithfulness. Jesus will call believers to Himself and say, “what have you been doing while I have been away.” Those who have not put their faith and trust in Him will be destroyed just as those who did not want this “noble man” in Jesus’ parable to be king (Luke 19:27). Are we being good servants while our King, Jesus, is away?

Monday, January 6, 2025

Haman the Captive a perverter of the Joseph of Genesis story

by Damien F. Mackey “The stories of Joseph’s exaltation and Jehoiachin’s elevation display significant parallels”. Paul S. Evans Scholars have noticed the intended parallels that exist between the Queen Esther drama and the account of Joseph, son of Jacob, in the Book of Genesis. One of these is Dr. Nicholas J. Schaser (“Esther and Joseph Part 1”, March 01, 2023), who, while picking up similar patterns between the two tales, reckons that “Esther’s story”, as it develops, “starts to look like a perverse version of Joseph’s experience”. And here I intend to argue that Haman the Captive himself was “a perverse version” of the Joseph, son of Jacob, whose career his own so strikingly resembles. Dr. Schaser writes: https://weekly.israelbiblecenter.com/esther-joseph-part During this festival of Purim, it is important to remember Esther and the role she played in saving the Jewish people under the Persian Empire. So important was Esther’s saving work, in fact, that the biblical writers patterned her salvific success on another figure in Israel’s history: Joseph. Esther rises to prominence in much the same way as Joseph, and they both struggle against adversity to become saviors of humanity. The stories of Joseph and Esther share thematic resonance insofar as both protagonists win the favor of the royal officials in a foreign land. According to Genesis, Joseph began to ascend to a position of authority in Egypt when “Joseph found grace” (וימצא יוסף חן; vayimtsa Yosef hen) in the eyes of Potiphar, the captain of Pharaoh’s guard (Gen 39:4). Similarly, the first step that Esther takes toward becoming Queen in Persia come when she pleased the king’s eunuch, Hegai, and “garnered fidelity before him (ותשׂא חסד לפניו; vatisa hesed l’phanav)" (Est 2:9). After this initial similarity, though, Esther’s story starts to look like a perverse version of Joseph’s experience. To mark Joseph’s authoritative position, “Pharaoh took his signet ring from his hand (ויסר פרעה את טבעתו מעל ידו; vayasar paroh et-tabato me’al yado) and put it on Joseph’s hand” (Gen 41:42). The author of Esther uses the exact same Hebrew language to describe the Persian king giving authority to Haman: “The king took his signet ring from his hand (ויסר המלך את טבעתו מעל ידו; vayasar ha’melekh et-tabato me’al yado) and gave it to Haman” (Est 3:10). The astute reader of Genesis knows that something has gone terribly wrong in Esther’s day: whereas God allowed Joseph to become a Hebrew authority under Egypt’s king, now Haman -- "the enemy of the Jews" (Est 3:10) -- wields violent authority against God’s people! Thus, the book of Esther draws on the story of Joseph in order to build suspense for readers who are familiar with Genesis. Yet, since such readers already know that Joseph ends up saving the people living in and around Egypt through a famine, the readers of Esther have hope that the Jews in Persia will also be saved – but such salvation will need to wait for Part II of our teaching on Esther and Joseph! Click here for the rest of the story: https://weekly.israelbiblecenter.com/esther-joseph-part-ii Another scholar, Paul S. Evans, has discovered a series of most unexpected (for me), but fascinating parallels between Joseph, son of Jacob, and King Jehoiachin of Judah. Why this is especially interesting to me - and also in light of Dr. Nicholas J. Schaser’s series - is that Jehoiachin (or Coniah) king of Judah is my historical version of Haman of the Book of Esther: The extraordinary life of Coniah the Captive - exiled, exalted, and finally executed (3) The extraordinary life of Coniah the Captive - exiled, exalted, and finally executed We know Jehoiachin to have been an historical figure. Esther 3:1: “After these things King Ahasuerus promoted Haman the Agagite, the son of Hammedatha, and advanced him and set his throne above all the officials who were with him”, should now be amended (so I think) to read “Haman the Captive”, to match “Jehoiachin the Captive” (I Chronicles 3:17). Hammedatha, here, is a female, the Jewish Queen Hamutal (Hammutal) (2Kgs.23:31; 24:18). Yes, Haman himself was a Jew, as according to some Jewish traditions: Haman’s nationality a complete surprise https://www.academia.edu/43437539/Haman_s_nationality_a_complete_surprise But Jehoiachin (Coniah) is not my only alter ego for Haman the Captive. Before looking at two other names, the inclusion of which will enable for the further development of the Joseph-Haman parallels, let us find what Paul Evans had come up with (“THE END OF KINGS AS PRESAGING AN EXODUS: THE FUNCTION OF THE JEHOIACHIN EPILOGUE (2 KGS 25:27–30) IN LIGHT OF PARALLELS WITH THE JOSEPH STORY IN GENESIS): (2) THE END OF KINGS AS PRESAGING AN EXODUS: THE FUNCTION OF THE JEHOIACHIN EPILOGUE (2 KGS 25:27–30) IN LIGHT OF PARALLELS WITH THE JOSEPH STORY IN GENESIS …. The Allusion to the Joseph Story … the present article detects attempts to underscore an allusion to the Joseph story from Genesis.51 This allusion is established on the basis of shared vocabulary and significant parallels in situational contexts. This thesis is further supported by the recognition of the typological tendencies of Dtr [the Deuteronomist]. Finally, in light of the dissimilar historical situations of Joseph and Jehoiachin, the intentional nature of the allusion is brought into relief. In my judgment, these factors taken together point to a purposeful allusion to the Joseph story on the part of the author of 2 Kings. Shared Vocabulary In 2 Kgs 25:27, when the Babylonian monarch releases Jehoiachin from prison, the expression used is “lift the head” (נשׂא ראשׁ). The combination of נשׂא and ראשׁ occurs 20 times in the OT, but the majority of the time it refers to the taking of a census (Exod 30:12; Num 1:2, 49; 4:2, 22; 26:2; 31:26, 49), which is obviously not the sense here. Elsewhere, the phrase is used to denote the opening of doors (Ps 24:7, 9), which again expression “lift the head” (נשׂא ראשׁ) is found three times to indicate the freeing of a prisoner.55 This is a unique lexical connection that indicates a link between the Jehoiachin pericope and the Joseph story. Parallels in Contexts The stories of Joseph’s exaltation and Jehoiachin’s elevation display significant parallels. First, both are exiles in a foreign land.56 Second, both Joseph and Jehoiachin are imprisoned in exile. Here it is important to note that life in the Babylonian exile did not necessarily mean life in prison, as it is clear that most exiles were not actually incarcerated. As Noth explains, “the exiles were not ‘prisoners’ but represented a compulsorily transplanted subject population who were able to move about involvement (Gen 41:14; 2 Kgs 25:27).61 Fourth, both Joseph and Jehoiachin change their clothes upon their release from prison (Gen 41:14, 42; 2 Kgs 25:29). The thematic role of clothing in the Joseph narrative is well known.62 Joseph is given a special robe by his father (Gen 37:3), and the robe is taken by the brothers (Gen 37:23) and then used to deceive their father (Gen 37:31–32). Later Joseph again loses his robe unjustly in refusing Potiphar’s wife (Gen 37:12), and this garment is used to deceive Joseph’s master (Gen 37:15–18). Joseph eventually has a change of garments given to him upon his elevation by Pharaoh (Gen 41:42) and finally gives his brothers new garments (and Benjamin five garments) after their reconciliation (Gen 45:22). Given the extreme brevity of the Jehoiachin pericope in comparison to the Joseph novella, the reference to a wardrobe change is significant.63 In light of the parallels with the Joseph story already highlighted in this article, the mention of Jehoiachin’s change of clothing further strengthens the connection between these two stories. Fifth, in both stories, the freed captive is given a position above all others, save the high king himself. In 2 Kgs 25:28 Jehoiachin is given a throne above all the other kings in Babylon (other than the high king), and in Gen 41:40 Joseph is given a position second only to the Pharaoh.64 The uniqueness of this parallel strongly suggests that in the Jehoiachin pericope an allusion to the Joseph story is being made. This supposition is strengthened when one examines in detail the exact phrase in which this is communicated. In Gen 41:40 Pharaoh says: “Only [in regards to] the throne I will be greater than you.” רק הכסא אגדל ממך Similarly, in 2 Kgs 25:28 Jehoiachin is given a “throne” (כסא) above all other kings but the Babylonian high king, Evilmerodach. In other words, both references to the conferring of rank on these once-imprisoned exiles are described in terms of a “throne” (כסא) with only the foreign high king being above them.65 …. [End of quote] Adding Amon-Jehoahaz In my article already referred to, “The extraordinary life of Coniah the Captive …”, I attached two other royal alter egos to Haman, apart from Jehoiachin (Coniah) the Captive. These were as King Amon of Judah and as King Jehoahaz of Judah, who (qua Jeh0ahaz) is omitted from Matthew 1’s Genealogy. By combining Amon-Jehoahaz as Haman-Jehoiachin, we can add some further key Joseph parallels, most notably, the Egyptian element. The evil King of Judah, a serial Captive, was firstly carried off into Egyptian exile by pharaoh Necho. Joseph, of course, was carried off into Egypt. It must have been there that he, as Amon, was given the name of the Egyptian god. Joseph, too, of course, was given a foreign name in Egypt, Zaphenath paaneah. Silver was involved in the transaction. (2 Chronicles 36:3): “The king of Egypt removed [Jehoahaz] from his throne in Jerusalem. The king of Egypt made the people of Judah pay him a huge tax. The tax was almost four tons of silver and 75 pounds of gold”. Joseph, of course, was sold for “20 pieces of silver” (Genesis 37:28). Whereas the account in 2 Kings has Jehoahaz dying in Egypt, 2 Chronicles does not. I think that the exile must have actually been returned for a time to the throne of Judah. Later he, as Haman, would die in Susa. As Haman, again, the wicked King of Judah would be exalted by the Medo-Persian king to second in the kingdom. Just like Joseph had been in Egypt. And he would be called “Father”, just like Joseph had been (Genesis 45:8). How Joseph like is this (Esther 16:11): “And found our humanity so great towards him, that he was called our Father, and was worshipped by all as the next man after the king”.

Sunday, January 5, 2025

Fr. Raymond Brown’s fatal differences between early Matthew and Luke

“Brown sees these differences as fatal to the possible harmony of the two accounts, stating that they are irreconcilable at several points”. Ian Paul Theologian Ian Paul provides a sensible perspective regarding the Infancy Narratives of Matthew and Luke in contrast to Fr. Raymond Brown’s messing with the Messiah: https://www.psephizo.com/biblical-studies/myth-and-history-in-the-epiphany-of-matthew-2/ Myth and history in the Epiphany of Matthew 2 December 29, 2021 by Ian Paul ________________________________________ …. ________________________________________ The Feast of the Epiphany in the church’s liturgical calendar is based on the events of Matt 2.1–12, the visit of the ‘wise men’ from the East to the infant Jesus. There are plenty of things about the story which might make us instinctively treat it as just another part of the constellation of Christmas traditions, which does not have very much connection with reality—and these questions are raised each year at this feast. The first is the sparseness of the story. As with other parts of the gospels, the details are given to us in bare outline compared with what we are used to in modern literature. We are told little of the historical reality that might interest us, and the temptation is to fill in details for ourselves. This leads to the second issue—the development of sometimes quite elaborate traditions which do the work of filling in for us. So these ‘magoi’ (which gives us our word ‘magic’) became ‘three’ (because of the number of their gifts), then ‘wise men’ and then ‘kings’ (probably under the influence of Ps 72.10. By the time of this Roman mosaic from the church in Ravenna built in 547, they have even acquired names. Christopher Howse comments: [T]hink how deeply these three men have entered our imagination as part of the Christmas story. “A cold coming they had of it at this time of the year, just the worst time of the year to take a journey, and specially a long journey, in. The ways deep, the weather sharp, the days short, the sun farthest off, in solstitio brumali, the very dead of winter.” Those words, in a tremendous sermon by Lancelot Andrewes that King James I heard on Christmas Day 1622, were brilliantly stolen by TS Eliot and incorporated into his poem The Journey of the Magi. And we can see it all: the camels’ breath steaming in the night air as the kings, in their gorgeous robes of silk and cloth-of-gold and clutching their precious gifts, kneel to adore the baby in the manger. Yet, that is not entirely what the Gospel says… But for any careful readers of the gospels, there is a third question: how does the visit of the magi fit in with the overall birth narrative, and in particular can Matthew’s account be reconciled with Luke’s? Andreas Köstenberger and Alexander Stewart address this question in The First Days of Jesus pp 164–167, in dialogue with Raymond Brown’s The Birth of the Messiah (1993). Brown notes the points that Matthew and Luke share in common: 1. The parents are named as Mary and Joseph, who are legally engaged or married but have not yet come to live together or have sexual relations (Matt 1.18, Luke 1.27, 34) 2. Joseph is of Davidic descent (Matt 1.16, 20, Luke 1.27, 32, 2.4) 3. An angel announces the forthcoming birth of the child (Matt 1.20–23 Luke 1.30–35) 4. The conception of the child is not through intercourse with her husband (Matt 1.20, 23, 25, Luke 1.34) 5. The conception is through the Holy Spirit (Matt 1.18, 20, Luke 1.35) 6. The angel directs them to name the child Jesus (Matt 1.21, Luke 2.11) 7. An angel states that Jesus is to be Saviour (Matt 1.21, Luke 2.11) 8. The birth of the child takes place after the parents have come to live together (Matt 1.24–25, Luke 2.5–6) 9. The birth takes place in Bethlehem (Matt 2.1, Luke 2.4–6). This is a surprisingly long list, and Brown’s careful examination produces a longer list of points of agreement than is usual noted. But even a cursory reading highlights the differences, not just in style and concern in the narrative, but in material content. Luke includes the angelic announcements to Zechariah and Mary, Mary’s visit to Elizabeth and the ‘Magnificat’, the birth of John the Baptist, Zechariah’s song (the ‘Benedictus’), the journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem, Jesus being laid in the food-trough, the lack of space in the guest room, the angelic announcement to the shepherds, and the presentation in the temple with Simeon and Anna—all omitted from Matthew. On the other hand, Matthew includes the visit of the magi, Herod’s plot, the escape to Egypt, the slaughter of the ‘innocents’, and Joseph’s decision about where to settle—all omitted from Luke. As Richard Bauckham notes, Luke’s is a largely ‘gynocentric’ narrative, focussing on the experiences, decisions and faithfulness of the women, whilst Matthew’s is largely an ‘androcentric’ narrative, focussing much more on the roles, decisions and actions of the men involved. Brown sees these differences as fatal to the possible harmony of the two accounts, stating that they are irreconcilable at several points. But Köstenberger and Stewart disagree: Nothing that Matthew says actually contradicts Luke’s account about Mary and Joseph being in Nazareth prior to the birth. Matthew is silent on the matter…[which] simply indicates his ignorance of or lack of interest in these details for the purpose of his narrative…Narrators commonly compress time and omit details (either from ignorance or conscious choice). Luke’s reference to the family’s return to Nazareth after the presentation of the temple does not contradict the events recorded in Matthew 2; he just doesn’t comment on them. Again, silence does not equal contradiction (pp 166–167). Luke’s conclusion, in Luke 2.39, is sometimes seen as creating a difficulty; the most natural way to read the English ‘When Joseph and Mary had done everything required by the Law of the Lord, they returned to Galilee to their own town of Nazareth’ (TNIV) is as a temporal marker, suggesting an immediate return. But the Greek phrase kai hos can have a range of meanings; the emphasis for Luke here is that, since they had done everything, they were able to leave, contributing to Luke’s consistent theme throughout the early chapters that Joseph and Mary, along with other characters in the story, are obedient, Torah-observant, pious Jews. What is interesting here is that we have two quite different accounts, working from different sources, with different aims—and yet in agreement on all the main details. Normally in scholarly discussion, this double testimony would be counted as evidence of reliability and historicity, rather than a contradiction to it. ________________________________________ In response to this, critical scholarship has moved in the other direction, and by and large has pulled apart Matthew’s story and confidently decided that none of it actually happened—in part because of the supposed contradictions with Luke, but in even larger part because of Matthew’s use of Old Testament citations. Thus it is read as having been constructed by Matthew out of a series of OT texts in order to tell us the real significance of Jesus. So Marcus Borg and Dominic Crossan, in The First Christmas: what the gospels really teach about Jesus’ birth, come to this conclusion: In our judgement, there was no special star, no wise men and no plot by Herod to kill Jesus. So is the story factually true? No. But as a parable, is it true? For us as Christians, the answer is a robust affirmative. Is Jesus light shining in the darkness? Yes. Do the Herods of this world seek to extinguish the light? Yes. Does Jesus still shine in the darkness? Yes (p 184). The approach presents problems of its own. For one, the stories are not presented as parables, but in continuity with the events Matthew relates in Jesus’ life later in the gospel. For another, if God in Jesus did not outwit Herod, on what grounds might we think he can outwit ‘the Herods of this world’? More fundamentally, Matthew and his first readers appeared to believe that the claims about Jesus were ‘parabolically true’ because these things actually happened. If none of them did, what grounds do we now have? Even if the events we read about are heavily interpreted, there is an irreducible facticity in testimony; if this has gone, we ought to question the value of the testimony itself. ________________________________________ A good working example of this approach is found in Paul Davidson’s blog. Davidson is a professional translator, rather than a biblical studies academic, but he offers a good outline of what critical scholarship has to say about Matthew’s nativity. His basic assumption is that Matthew is a ‘multi-layered’ document—Matthew is writing from the basis of other, differing sources. He takes over large parts of Mark’s gospel, as does Luke, and Matthew and Luke never agree in contradiction to Mark, a key piece of the argument of ‘Marcan priority’, that Mark was earlier than either of the other two. Whether or not you believe in the existence of the so-called Q, another early written source (and with Mark Goodacre, I don’t), Matthew is clearly dealing with some pre-existing material, oral or written. It is striking, for example, that Joseph is a central character in Matthew’s account before and after the story of the magi, and is the key actor in contrast to Luke’s nativity, where the women are central. Yet in this section (Matt 2.1–12) the focus is on ‘the child’ or ‘the child and his mother Mary’ (Matt 2.9, 2.11; see also Matt 2.14, 20 and 21). Some scholars therefore argue that this story comes from a different source, and so might be unhistorical. This is where we need to start being critical of criticism. Handling texts in this way requires the making of some bold assumptions, not least that of author invariants. If a change of style indicates a change of source, then this can only be seen if the writer is absolutely consistent in his (or her) own writing, and fails to make the source material his or her own. In other words, we … need to be a lot smarter than the writer him- or herself. Even a basic appreciation of writing suggests that authors are just not that consistent. Davidson goes on in his exploration to explain the story of the star in terms of OT source texts. The basis for the star and the magi comes from Numbers 22–24, a story in which Balaam, a soothsayer from the east (and a magus in Jewish tradition) foretells the coming of a great ruler “out of Jacob”. Significantly, the Greek version of this passage has messianic overtones, as it replaces “sceptre” in 24:17 with “man.” He is quite right to identify the connections here; any good commentary will point out these allusions, and it would be surprising if Matthew, writing what most would regard as a ‘Jewish’ gospel, was not aware of this. But if he is using these texts as a ‘source’, he is not doing a very good job. The star points to Jesus, but Jesus is not described as a ‘star’, and no gospels make use of this as a title. In fact, this is the only place where the word ‘star’ occurs in the gospel. (It does occur as a title in Rev 22.16, and possibly in 2 Peter 1.19, but neither text makes any connection with this passage.) ________________________________________ Next, Davidson looks at the citation in Matt 2.5–6, which for many critical scholars provides the rationale for a passage explaining that Jesus was born in Bethlehem when he is otherwise universally known as ‘Jesus of Nazareth’ (19 times in all four gospels and Acts). But, as Davidson points out, Matthew has to work hard to get these texts to help him. For one, he has to bolt together two texts which are otherwise completely unconnected, from Micah 5.2 and 2 Sam 5.2. Secondly, he has to change the text of Micah 5.2 so that: • Bethlehem, the ‘least’ of the cities of Judah, now becomes ‘by no means the least’; • the well-known epithet ‘Ephrathah’ becomes ‘Judah’ to make the geography clear; and • the ‘clans’ becomes ‘clan leader’ i.e. ‘ruler’ to make the text relevant. Moreover, Matthew is making use of a text which was not known as ‘messianic’; in the first century, the idea that messiah had to come from Bethlehem as a son of David was known but not very widespread. All this is rather bad news for those who would argue that Jesus’ birth was carefully planned to be a literal fulfilment of OT prophecy. But it is equally bad news for those who argue that Matthew made the story up to fit such texts, and for exactly the same reason. Of course, Matthew is working in a context where midrashic reading of texts means that they are a good deal more flexible than we would consider them. But he is needing to make maximum use of this flexibility, and the logical conclusion of this would be that he was constrained by the other sources he is using—by the account he has of what actually happened. ________________________________________ Davidson now turns to consider the magi and the star. He notes a certain coherence up to the point where the magi arrive in Jerusalem. So far, the story makes logical sense despite its theological problems (e.g. the fact that it encourages people to believe in the “deceptive science of astrology”, as Strauss noted). The star is just that: a star. Then everything changes. The star is transformed into an atmospheric light that guides the magi right from Jerusalem to Bethlehem, where it hovers over a single house—the one where the child is. We are no longer dealing with a distant celestial body, but something else entirely, like a pixie or will-o’-the-wisp. Mackey’s comment: But see e.g. my article: The Magi and the Star that Stopped: (5) The Magi and the Star that Stopped Ian Paul continues: Here again critical assumptions need some critical reflection. Matthew’s inclusion of magi is theologically very problematic indeed. Simon Magus and Elymas (Acts 8.9, 13.8) hardly get a good press, not surprising in light of OT prohibitions on sorcery, magic and astrology. Western romanticism has embraced the Epiphany as a suggestive mystery, but earlier readings (like that of Irenaeus) saw the point as the humiliation of paganism; the giving of the gifts was an act of submission and capitulation to a greater power. For Matthew the Jew, they are an unlikely and risky feature to include, especially when Jesus is clear he has come to the ‘lost sheep of the house of Israel’ (Matt 10.6, 15.24). There have been many attempts to explain the appearance of the star scientifically. …. And any naturalistic explanations miss Matthew’s central point: this was something miraculous provided by God. If you don’t think the miraculous is possible, you are bound to disbelieve Matthew’s story—but on the basis of your own assumptions, not on any criteria of historical reliability or the nature of Matthew’s text. Davidson cites the 19th-century rationalist critic David Friedrich Strauss in his objection to the plausibility of Herod’s action: With regard to Herod’s instructions to report back to him, Strauss notes that surely the magi would have seen through his plan at once. There were also less clumsy methods Herod might have used to find out where the child was; why did he not, for example, send companions along with the magi to Bethlehem? In fact, we know from Josephus that Herod had a fondness for using secret spies. And in terms of the story, the magi are unaware of Herod’s motives; we are deploying our prior knowledge of the outcome to decide what we think Herod ought to have done, which is hardly a good basis for questioning Matthew’s credibility. ________________________________________ Finally, we come to the arrival of the magi at the home of the family. Interestingly, Matthew talks of their ‘house’ (Matt 2.11) which supports the idea that Jesus was not born in a stable—though from the age of children Herod has executed (less than two years) we should think of the magi arriving some time after the birth. Mackey’s comment: But see e.g. my article: Magi were not necessarily astronomers or astrologers (5) Magi were not necessarily astronomers or astrologers Ian Paul continues: No shepherds and magi together here! (It is worth noting, though, that forming a ‘tableau’ of different elements of a narrative, all compressed together, is a common feature of artistic depictions of stories. We just need to be aware of what is going in here in the compression of narrative time.) Davidson again sees (with critical scholars) this event constructed from OT texts: According to Brown, Goulder (2004), and others, the Old Testament provided the inspiration for the gifts of the magi. This passage is an implicit citation of Isaiah 60.3, 6 and Psalm 72.10, 15, which describe the bringing of gifts in homage to the king, God’s royal son. But again, the problem here is that Matthew’s account just doesn’t fit very well. Given that these OT texts uniformly mention kings, not magi, if Matthew was constructing his account from these, why choose the embarrassing astrologers? And why three gifts rather than two? Where has the myrrh come from? Again, it is Irenaeus who first interprets the gifts as indicators of kingship, priesthood and sacrificial death respectively, but Matthew does not appear to do so. In the narrative, they are simply extravagant gifts fit for the true ‘king of the Jews’. Subsequent tradition has to do the work that Matthew has here failed to do, and make the story fit the prophecies rather better than Matthew has managed to. Davidson closes his analysis of this section with a final observation from Strauss: If the magi can receive divine guidance in dreams, why are they not told in a dream to avoid Jerusalem and go straight to Bethlehem in the first place? Many innocent lives would have been saved that way. Clearly, God could have done a much better job of the whole business. But it rather appears as though Matthew felt unable to improve on what happened by fitting it either to the OT texts or his sense of what ought to have happened. The modern reader might struggle with aspects of Matthew’s story. But it seems to me you can only dismiss it by making a large number of other, unwarranted assumptions. ….

Friday, January 3, 2025

God’s weakness will always be stronger than human strength

by Damien F. Mackey “God’s foolishness will always be wiser than mere human wisdom, and God's weakness will always be stronger than mere human strength”. 1 Corinthians 1:25 The holy men and women of Israel held fast to a dictum that helped them to remain steadfast. It was this: Do not forget the works of the Lord. They had heard of - and some had witnessed - the marvellous works of the Lord. Yet oftentimes, in periods of crisis, it might seem to them that God was no longer acting like God. The enemy appeared to have the upper hand, prayers were going unheard. It seemed like God had finally lost control. Even worse than the gross injustice of failing to recall the mighty deeds of the Lord, from Creation all the way through to his terrifying manifestations at Fatima, Portugal, in 1917 (1925-1929), is for humanity to forget about God altogether. The prophetic Russian author and Soviet dissident, Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, rightly attributed the troubles that befell the world in the C20th to the fact that: “Men have forgotten God; that’s why all this has happened”: Solzhenitsyn (3) "Men have forgotten God; that’s why all this has happened": Solzhenitsyn | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu And it is precisely why “all this” still continues to happen in 2025. Will we ever learn? Grappling with the fact that the all-powerful God might cease to show mercy to his people greatly “troubled” the Psalmist who wisely “remembered the works of the Lord” (77:4-11 Douay; 78): I was troubled, and I spoke not. I thought upon the days of old: and I had in my mind the eternal years. And I meditated in the night with my own heart: and I was exercised and I swept my spirit. Will God then cast off for ever? or will he never be more favourable again? Or will he cut off his mercy for ever, from generation to generation? Or will God forget to shew mercy? or will he in his anger shut up his mercies? And I said, Now have I begun: this is the change of the right hand of the most High. I remembered the works of the Lord: for I will be mindful of thy wonders from the beginning. Perhaps no one more so than the prophet Job, a “righteous” man, wondered and grappled in his great affliction why the good got belted while the wicked appeared to sail through life (Job 21:5-9): Look at me and be appalled; clap your hand over your mouth. When I think about this, I am terrified; trembling seizes my body. Why do the wicked live on, growing old and increasing in power? They see their children established around them, their offspring before their eyes. Their homes are safe and free from fear; the rod of God is not on them. Basically, we are talking about the perennial Problem of Evil that has been a stumbling block preventing so many from turning to God. We often hear it uttered: If God is so good and all-powerful how come there is so much evil and suffering in the world? Again Job, now in his guise as the prophet Habakkuk (see): Magi were not necessarily astronomers or astrologers (3) Magi were not necessarily astronomers or astrologers | Damien Mackey - Academia.edu wonders why God no longer seems to be acting like God: https://bibleproject.com/explore/video/habakkuk/#:~:text=This%20is%20a%20central%20question,with%20evil%20in%20every%20generation. Is God really good if the world is so unjust? This is a central question the prophet Habakkuk wrestles with. He calls out to God asking him to deal with human evil, but he is angry when God doesn’t deal with unjust nations in the way that Habakkuk thinks he should. God reminds the prophet that God will deal with evil in every generation. We can continue to trust his timing and plan as we remain faithful to him. God Hears Our Lament Unlike other prophetic books that offer warnings of judgment against corrupt nations, the book of Habakkuk is a compilation of the prophet's laments. Habakkuk questions God's goodness because he sees so much injustice, evil, and tragedy in the world. See how Habakkuk brings his concern, and even anger, before God in his desire to see Israel restored and human evil defeated. Habakkuk had not forgotten what God was capable of doing on behalf of Israel. For he remembered the mighty works of the Lord: the Exodus, the manifestations at Sinai, and the Joshuan Miracle of the Sun. He begs the Lord to do the same again in his day (Habakkuk 3:2-15): Lord, 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; in wrath remember mercy. God came from Teman, the Holy One from Mount Paran. His glory covered the heavens and his praise filled the earth. His splendor was like the sunrise; rays flashed from his hand, where his power was hidden. Plague went before him; pestilence followed his steps. He stood, and shook the earth; he looked, and made the nations tremble. The ancient mountains crumbled and the age-old hills collapsed— but he marches on forever. I saw the tents of Cushan in distress, the dwellings of Midian in anguish. Were you angry with the rivers, Lord? Was your wrath against the streams? Did you rage against the sea when you rode your horses and your chariots to victory? You uncovered your bow, you called for many arrows. You split the earth with rivers; the mountains saw you and writhed. Torrents of water swept by; the deep roared and lifted its waves on high. Sun and moon stood still in the heavens at the glint of your flying arrows, at the lightning of your flashing spear. In wrath you strode through the earth and in anger you threshed the nations. You came out to deliver your people, to save your anointed one. You crushed the leader of the land of wickedness, you stripped him from head to foot. With his own spear you pierced his head when his warriors stormed out to scatter us, gloating as though about to devour the wretched who were in hiding. You trampled the sea with your horses, churning the great waters. Magnificent stuff! But even when God does not appear to be doing any mighty deeds, and may seem even to have lost control, like the terrible Crucifixion incident, He is totally in control, manipulating nations to his own ends and purposes while these imagine that it is their power that controls cosmic events (cf. Isaiah 10:5-34). As pope Francis has encouragingly noted: Even in times of darkness, God is there (2) Even in times of darkness, God is there “Having faith means, in the midst of the storm, keeping your heart turned to God, to his love, to his tenderness as a Father. Jesus wanted to teach this to Peter and his disciples, and also to us today, in moments of darkness, moments of storms”. Speaking from a window overlooking St. Peter’s Square, he said “even before we begin to seek Him, He is present beside us lifting us back up after our falls, He helps us grow in faith.” “Perhaps we, in the dark, cry out: ‘Lord! Lord!’ thinking that he is far away. And He says: ‘I’m here!’ Ah, he was with me!” Pope Francis continued. “God knows well that our faith is poor and that our path can be troubled, blocked by adverse forces. But He is the Risen One, do not forget this, the Lord who went through death to bring us to safety.”