Ezra-Nehemiah

Lester L. Grabbe

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2005
• ISBN:
  9781134768073
• Edition: 1
• Topic: History
• Subtopic: Ancient History
• Index: History

In this provocative study, Lester Grabbe presents a unique approach to Ezra-Nehemiah with the combination of a literary and historical approach. Lester Grabbe challenges commonly held assumptions about Joshua and Zerubbabel, the initial resettlement of land after the exile, the figure of Ezra and the activities of Nehemiah. Controversially, the challenge comes, not from radical theory but from paying careful attention to the text of the Bible itself.

1

INTRODUCTION

The books of Ezra and Nehemiah have not been the most popular of the books in the Hebrew Bible. Yet they have had great influence on how the Jewish religion is assumed to have developed. They describe the reconstruction of the Jewish temple and state after their destruction by the Babylonians in 587/586 BCE and set the theme for the concerns and even the basis of Early Judaism which is usually seen as the Torah. The figure of Ezra has been profoundly associated with the origin or promulgation or interpretation of that Torah. The consequence is that the books of Ezra and Nehemiah are in many ways the foundation of much scholarship, not only about the development of the Jewish religion but even of how the Old Testament (OT) literature emerged.

The aim of this book is to make a contribution to a better understanding of these two books which, in my opinion, are crucial writings in the Hebrew Bible. My study has implications for the history of Israel and Judah, the religion of Israelites and Judaeans, the literary development of the OT, and OT theology. This is inevitable because of the importance of Ezra and Nehemiah for all these areas. All the various implications are not drawn here because of my focus purely on Ezra and Nehemiah. Some of the consequences were drawn in chapter 2 of my Judaism from Cyrus to Hadrian (1992a) and will be dealt with in more detail in my forthcoming Yehud: The Persian Province of Judah (in preparation).

As a part of the series ‘Readings’ the heart of this study is a close reading of the books of Ezra and Nehemiah. Part I focuses purely on the literary aspects of the two books; it is primarily a close reading of the Hebrew books of Ezra and Nehemiah plus 1 Esdras and other Ezra and Nehemiah traditions. The aim is to read the texts as they exist in their final form. This does not reject the concept of authorial intent—indeed, authorial intent will be frequently discussed in Part II—but the emphasis in Part I is asking what the text actually says and what its structure implies. Questions of literary growth and source criticism come only as secondary questions: they are not the concern of chapters 2 to 4; however, occasional references may be given in anticipation of the later discussion, for questions of literary growth and sources and, especially, the historical questions will eventually be addressed. Chapter 5 asks about the relationship between the various traditions and goes on to discuss not only how the Hebrew books of Ezra and Nehemiah are put together but also what their structure and content imply about the growth of the traditions. It is necessary for these matters of sources and literary growth to be dealt with before historical questions can be asked in Part II. Therefore, the analysis in chapters 2 to 4 goes beyond a conventional literary analysis; it also looks at the implications of content as well as structure to consider what these imply about the development and redaction of the traditions.

In my view, it is a mistake to assume that a close reading or a stucturalist analysis will clarify all aspects of the text. In some cases they will but often, especially with traditional literature, they show the imperfections and the disjunctures in the text as well as the literary skill of the compiler/author/redactor. Part of a holistic reading is not just to see how the text is structured and the parts fit the whole but also to recognize that sometimes a purely literary reading of the final form of the text does not do justice to what lies before us. A full analysis of the text may require one to ask how it came about—about its history, evolution, redaction, compilation. The emphasis in some of the literary approaches has been on how the work is structured and how the various elements within the narrative contribute to the message of the book; that is, they emphasize unity and integrity of the narrative. Such analyses have often been very helpful in appreciating the literature, have brought previously unrecognized meanings to the surface, and have corrected an earlier over-emphasis on traditio-historical criticism. However, a close reading does not always show literary skill; on the contrary, it may well disclose textual disharmony, bad writing, and clumsy editing. It may raise questions about the use of earlier traditions (which is, of course, a form of intertextuality), and it may well call into question the matter of authorial competence. Such points are noted in chapters 2 and 3 wherever they arise. Discussion of sources is also essential to chapter 4 because the other Ezra and Nehemiah traditions cannot be discussed without reference to the Hebrew books of Ezra and Nehemiah.

The analysis in Part I was done as independently as possible. Although the standard commentaries were consulted at various points when the need was felt, the aim was to try to put previous interpretations out of mind—as far as that was possible to do—and to approach the texts afresh, trying to eliminate preconceived ideas. Most of the secondary literature was read or reviewed only after the texts had been analysed. This is why few references to secondary literature are found in Part I, especially in chapters 2–4.

The various Ezra and Nehemiah traditions occur in a variety of text types and languages, each of which can be analysed in its own right. However, the core of the study is the Hebrew texts of Ezra and Nehemiah (using the text in the Biblia Hebraica Stuttgartensia). We know these mainly from the Masoretic tradition (MT) which is the basis of the analysis. The Greek versions of Ezra and Nehemiah (often called Esdras β or Esdras B or occasionally even 2 Esdras—but not to be confused with 4 Ezra which is also often called 2 Esdras) are fairly literal translations of a Hebrew text which was very close to our present Masoretic text. Therefore, these Greek translations were not investigated further (except as they might be used for purposes of textual criticism). 1 Esdras was different, however. Although for much of its length it is parallel to sections of 2 Chronicles, Ezra, and Nehemiah, it represents a different textual tradition. The contents are in a different order from anything in the Hebrew Bible and, as far as one can tell from a translation, often represent a slightly divergent Hebrew original. The Göttingen edition (Hanhart 1974) was used for this text.

Part II relies heavily on the close reading of Part I, but it asks about history: What is the relationship between the Hebrew Ezra and Nehemiah and the other Ezra and Nehemiah traditions and the historical events of the time? Granted that the Hebrew books are a part of our historical sources, how trustworthy are they and can we ultimately accept them as historical—or, to put it another way, to what extent are they historical? What quality of sources are they? To answer these questions we need to look at other sources and also to bring in our knowledge of history in the Persian period generally.

These sources for Persian history and especially for the Persian province of Yehud are surveyed in my Judaism from Cyrus to Hadrian (1992a: ch. 2). Although some of the points made in the earlier work are also included here, this is because they still seem to be valid in the light of subsequent study. I have attempted to rethink the books of Ezra and Nehemiah and also to go beyond what was included in my study of 1992. My thinking on the two books continues to develop, and a number of further studies relating to this investigation here have been done since then as well (see Bibliography).

One might think that we can all take for granted what is meant by historical study. I find that this is not the case: some biblical scholars seem to mistake the aims and methods of historical study and do not understand the difference between it and study of the Bible for theological, literary, hermeneutical, or other ‘applied’ reasons. There are, sadly, those who think that the theological or ideological needs in modern society can allow one to override critical debate. An example of this which has come forcibly to my attention is found in a review of my book Priests, Prophets, Diviners, Sages (1995) by Walter Brueggemann (1996). The general tenor of the review is actually complimentary, with such statements as the following: ‘There is no doubt that Grabbe’s study is well informed, and his critical judgments are well measured and balanced. The book will be an important and useful reference’ (Brueggemann 1996:729). However, in one particular area Brueggemann is unhappy with my approach, which may be summed up by the following quotations (p. 729):

Grabbe here voices what has become almost a criticial de rigueur concerning older ‘theological interpretations’ of the prophets…. The methodological rigor of Grabbe’s study, however, leads to the odd conclusion that there is no reliable distinction, in terms of the methods here championed, between the false prophets of Israel and the true ones…. The methods of Grabbe rule out any theological, Yahwistic, or canonical claims, so that all criteria then perforce disappear. I suppose this is a legitimate perspective. But it is striking that the method is willing to host the evidence of seemingly everyone except the voices of the text themselves who thought they could make distinctions, which Grabbe dismisses as ‘the subjective judgment of the editors and tradents.’ The editors or ideologues are accused of wanting to present a certain ‘view of religion and society.’ But of course! Thus the attempt to drive a wedge between ‘scientific’ data and ‘theological interpretation’ is here a complete one.

Brueggemann has a considerable reputation for his work on theology and literary study, but he is not known as a historian. If he wishes to do a theological study of true and false prophecy as presented by the biblical text, he is welcome to do that; he is also welcome to give the perspective of the text pre-eminence in such a treatment. But it would not be a historical study. Brueggemann does not, however, seem to understand the difference—and he is not the only biblical scholar to make this mistake. The viewpoint of the text is a sociological and historical datum. The fact that the text thinks, for example, that it can distinguish between true prophets and false prophets is a piece of information which the historian should take into account. But this view is not determinative of the historian’s conclusions; it is only a part of the raw data to be weighed and critically evaluated. After all, the text makes all sorts of claims which few of us (including Brueggemann) would accept, such as that the Canaanites deserved to be exterminated, or that in the sixth century BCE Daniel prophesied the coming of Antiochus Epiphanes, or that the one who seizes Babylonian babies and smashes their brains out against the stones is blessed. The text makes all sorts of statements that we would reject for theological and moral reasons, but in particular it makes historical statements that cannot be taken at face value.

When carrying on debates about history in relation to the Bible, one occasionally hears voices raised that such and such an interpretation unfairly slights or promotes the cause of the Jewish people or the Palestinian peoples or the state of Israel or the poor and disadvantaged or a particular gender, or whatever. Such arguments should be irrelevant to scholarship. It is the equivalent of judging a book by its cover. History has, of course, always been used in aid of propaganda and distorted by propaganda. But if propaganda is what you have in mind, why wrap it up in the package of critical history? If critical historical study conducted carefully and fairly comes to uncomfortable conclusions, then so be it. The question of whether someone might use such conclusions for purposes which we would find objectionable is not an issue which should influence the conclusions.

Above all, our historical judgements should be made on the basis of historical principles and methodology. Once we let ideology be the basis, we are already going down a dangerous road. One only has to consider a court case in Japan that concluded in 1997. It was actually illegal in Japan to tell the true story of Japanese atrocities in the Second World War because this was considered a negative portrait of the country and people. Thus, textbooks had such matter censured from them, and it is only now—half a century after the end of the war—that Japanese students can be told the truth in school texts. To decide one’s history on the basis of theology is just as mistaken and just as dangerous—whether to scholarship or to our status as free moral agents.

Naturally, no one can doubt that every historian is limited by personal experiences, prejudices, intellectual failings, and many other lacks which prevent a completely neutral and dispassionate evaluation of the data. There is, however, a difference between these human weaknesses which historians try to allow for and overcome, and the deliberate overriding of proper historical judgement by promoting a particular point of view because it suits certain needs beyond academic interpretation and reconstruction of history. Any historical reconstruction will, of course, be subjective to some extent. But just because this is true and inevitable does not mean that, therefore, one reconstruction is as valid as another. There is such a thing as bad historical study and bad scholarship.

On the other hand, sincere individual historians striving to be as fair to the data as possible may still come up with quite different scenarios from others equally conscientious; indeed, the same historian may come up with a very different interpretation at one particular time than at another. The discussion in chapters 6–7 is without question my own particular interpretation at this point in my scholarly odyssey. It may be that at some point in the future, I shall be giving a completely different interpretation, though the likelihood is that future discussion will be a development of present views, not a complete disowning of them. This is not because I am not capable of changing my mind, for my views have actually changed radically on Ezra-Nehemiah. About a decade ago they changed from a perspective fairly close to that found, for example, in Hugh Williamson’s commentary (1985) to the one found in chapter 2 of Judaism from Cyrus to Hadrian (1992a). There were a number of causes but an important one was reading Gunneweg’s commentary on Ezra (Gunneweg 1985; cf. my remarks in Grabbe 1991).

Lest Professor Brueggemann or other non-historians should be reviewing this book, let me say that I do not doubt the value of Ezra-Nehemiah for theological or hermeneutical purposes or for its place in literary appreciation and aesthetics. The literary and theological sides are discussed at some length, though there is a great deal more that could be said. But when I come to chapters 6 and 7, I am asking historical questions and dealing in critical history. I hope readers will understand that and not assume that I am doing like so many biblical scholars who talk about ‘history’ when they really mean theology or ideology.

Some practical points about use of this book need to be made at this juncture. Citation of the biblical text is to the chapter and verse numbering found in the Hebrew Bible. This usually corresponds to the English, but there are occasional differences (e.g. 10:1 in Hebrew is 9:38 in English). The Greek text of Esdras B is seldom cited since it usually only confirms the Hebrew; however, the text of Esdras B is not divided into two books, which means that the chapters are numbered consecutively. Thus, Nehemiah 1–13 corresponds to Esdras B 11–23. The verse numbering of 1 Esdras in various English translations sometimes differs by a number or two from that in most Greek editions.

The transliteration of Hebrew should be clear to those who know the language. I have used ν and f for the non-dageshed forms of bet and pe, while w is always used for waw (even though now pronounced v by most modern users of Hebrew). English translations are generally my own, though I have consulted various English translations at different times, especially the New Jewish Publication Society version.

I use a number of words purely as descriptive terms without any political or sectarian motivation: Old Testament (OT) and Hebrew Bible are normally used interchangeably to mean the collection of writings found in the present Hebrew canon. However, if I am referring to the Septuagint version or any other which includes the deutero-canonical books, I shall use ‘OT’ (or ‘Septuagint’); it has no sectarian or theological significance. ‘Palestine’ is purely a geographical term, used because it has been widely accepted for many years and because it is difficult to find a suitable substitute. Whenever the term ‘the exile’ is mentioned, it is both a convenient chronological benchmark to refer to the watershed between the monarchy/First Temple period and the Second Temple period and also a means of referring to the deportations from Judah that took place in the early sixth century BCE (cf. the discussion and essays in the edited volume of Grabbe 1998b).

The divine name for the God of Israel is written as ‘Yhwh’; although often vocalized as ‘Yahweh’, the precise pronunciation is in fact unknown. The term golah is used to refer to the community of those who are alleged to have returned from exile. The name of the large Persian satrapy to the west of the Euphrates occurs in a variety of forms in our sources, depending on the particular administrative language in question. I give it in the form of ‘Ebirnari’ which means ‘Beyond (to the West of) the River (Euphrates)’.

Part I

LITERARY ANALYSIS

Chapters 2, 3, and 4 of this section give a close ...

Table of contents

• Cover Page
• Half Title page
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Contents
• Abbreviations
• 1 Introduction
• 1 Literary Analysis
• 2 The Historical Question
• Bibliography
• Index of Modern Authors
• Index of Citations