Part 77
(1896).)
5. The work, which manifestly builds on the traditions of i Enoch (on which see MAJ GEN A.7), falls into six sections. The first of these (chs. 1-2) sets the scene: Enoch is awakened from sleep by two glorious angels who tell him that God has sent them to escort him up to heaven. The second section (chs. 321) describe in some detail Enoch's ascent through the seven heavens (so Recension B), or the ten heavens (so Recension A). It tells us what he saw in each heaven: the subjects are partly cosmological, partly concerned with the fate of souls after death and with the angelic hierarchies. The third section (ch. 22) contains the climax of the ascent. Enoch sees God's glorious throne and apparently undergoes physical transformation into an angel (ANTH c.i). The next section
(chs. 23—38) records the revelations that Enoch received before God's throne. God commands an archangel to bring the books from the celestial archive and to instruct Enoch in certain mysteries. The secrets imparted to him are largely cosmological and are presented in the form of a loose commentary on the work of the six days of creation in Gen i. In section five (chs. 39-66) Enoch returns to earth to impart the knowledge he has been given to his sons. The content is once again cosmological, but it passes over into ethical admonition. The last section (ch. 67 + ch. 68, Recension A) forms an appendix to the work and tells of the final translation of Enoch. Enoch is carried by the angels to heaven and set before God's face 'for ever' (Recension B). 2 Enoch exhibits one of the basic patterns of apocalyptic literature, which contains five elements: (i) trance/dream; (2) ascent to heaven; (3) vision of God's throne and glory; (4) revelation of mysteries; (5) descent to earth and communication of these mysteries. In 2 Enoch, as we have indicated, the secrets disclosed are mainly cosmological, but they could equally, and indeed more typically, have been eschatological—a vision of the course of history up to the messianic age, or of the fate of souls, or both.
3. The style of apocalyptic is highly distinctive. The texts are full of fantastic and arresting images—strange beasts, surreal landscapes, portents, prodigies, and wonders. They have at times a nightmarish quality, and, indeed, are often presented as dreamor trance-visions. They represent the re-emergence within Judaism of a mythological mode of discourse (with links to Canaanite and Near-Eastern mythology) which had been suppressed in earlier times. The apocalyptists frequently interpret their visions for us, and from these interpretations it becomes clear that the fantasy is under tight control. The visions are elaborate allegories: the imagery has symbolic
6. Apocalyptic appears to have flourished in early Judaism at two distinct periods. The first of these coincided roughly with the Hellenistic crisis (£.180-150 BCE). It is to this period that Daniel and parts of the apocalyptic material in i Enoch and in the Book of Jubilees belong. The second period covers the first few decades after the destruction of the temple in 70

799 POST-BIBLICAL JEWISH LITERATURE
see further Davies (1977)). The War Rule is written in Hebrew and several versions of it are extant, all dated palaeographically to the Herodian era. Another element of the apocalyptic scenario was the messianic banquet. The Dead Sea community believed that it had a major part to play in this event as well. In the Messianic Rule, an appendix to the Cave i version of the Community Rule (on which see MAJ GEN F.2), it sets out how the community was to behave when it sat down with the Messiah at the eschatological feast (ANTH c.8; text: Garcia Martinez and Tigchelaar (1997: i. 98—103); tr.: Vermes (1997: 157-60); see further Schiffman (1989)). It is clear from the NT that apocalyptic decisively influenced early Christianity as well, and Pharisaism too probably felt its impact. The Pharisees certainly believed in the resurrection of the dead, one of the key doctrines of apocalyptic (ANTH c.g). The later Merkabah and Hekalot texts testify to the persistence of apocalyptic ideas and literary forms even in a rabbinic milieu—a fact most simply explained by supposing that the rabbis had inherited apocalyptic traditions from their Second Temple predecessors, the Pharisees.
CE. It is to this period that the book of Revelation belongs, as well as (probably) the important apocalypses known as 4 Ezra and 2 Apoc. Bar. (ANTH c.6, 9). 4 Ezra is the name commonly given to an apocalypse found in Latin Vulgate Bibles either under the title 4 Esdras (the Gk. form of Ezra), or as chs. 3-14 of 2 Esdras (see 2 BSD). 2 Apoc. Bar. is now extant in a single Syriac manuscript dating from the sixth century CE, but it is widely recognized that it too goes back to a Jewish apocalypse written in Greek probably around 9 5 CE. (Syriactext: Dedering
(1973:1-50); Gk: Denis (1970:118-20); trs.: Charles, APOTii. 470—526, rev. Brockington, in Sparks (1984: 835—97); Klijn, OTP i. 615-52; commentaries: Charles (1896); Bogaert (1969).) Ithas close affinities in language and ideas to 4 Ezra.
7. The periods 180—150 BCE and 70—100 CE were marked by political and religious turmoil. It is hardly surprising, therefore, that many have interpreted apocalyptic as a literature of crisis, which aims to give consolation to the persecuted and the religiously bemused. The strong emphasis in some apocalyptic texts on proclaiming the imminence of redemption and on justifying God's ways towards Israel tends to support this view. It is interesting to note that there was another outburst of apocalypticism within Judaism coinciding with the period of spiritual and political upheaval engendered by the Islamic invasions of the Near East in the early seventh century CE: it produced the Midrashim of Redemption, such as the Book ofZerubbabel and the Prayer of Rabbi
9. Apocalyptic has roots in earlier traditions to be found not only in the great canonic prophets, but in the wisdom writings as well (on which see MAJ GEN D). Isa 24-7,40-55, 56-66, and Zech 9-14 provide particularly important antecedents. Yet the dominant impression one gets from reading apocalyptic is of its novelty. It brought together and promoted a number of ideas which were rather new to Judaism—a full-blown doctrine of the Messiah, with elaborate scenarios of the end of history; a belief that history is purposeful and patterned, and moving towards a grand climax; the survival of the soul after death in places of reward and punishment; the bodily resurrection of the dead; and an interest in angels and in the workings of the celestial world. The apocalyptists were concerned with areas of knowledge that were regarded as mysterious; they touched on dangerous subjects. Later rabbinic tradition was to ban public discussion of two of their major themes— the Account of the Chariot (Ma'aseh Merkavah), i.e. the mysteries of the heavenly world, and the Account of Creation
Simeon bar Yohai. But it is important not to link apocalyptic too closely with political crisis. To do so can result in overstressing the eschatological element. Moreover, once launched, apocalyptic ideas became a permanent feature of the Jewish intellectual tradition and attracted interest through good times as well as bad. More often than not what fosters the apocalyptic mood is not objective historical reality, but individual perceptions of reality, which are not necessarily the same thing.
8. Apocalyptic texts share a family likeness and play on the same limited repertory of themes. They belong to a genuine literary tradition. But who was responsible for them? It was once proposed that apocalyptic provided evidence for popular Judaism in late Second Temple times. This is highly implausible. On every page of this literature are traces of immense learning. Apocalyptic is a scholarly literature, and its authors should be sought in the circles of the scribes (the Soferim), whose influence was increasingly felt in late Second Temple Judaism. Apocalyptic cannot be tied to any single Jewish sect. It seems to have arisen before the emergence of the sects, and it influenced all of them, with the possible exception of the Sadducees. Apocalyptic literature was found in abundance among the Dead Sea scrolls, including fragments of hitherto unknown apocalypses. This is hardly surprising, given that the Dead Sea sect believed it was living at 'the end of days'. Just how seriously it took this belief is shown by the War Rule and the Messianic Rule. Though neither of these texts is strictly speaking an apocalypse, both show how committed the community was to apocalyptic teaching about the imminence of the messianic age. The Dead Sea community believed it would play a leading role in the wars at the end of history, and in the War Rule it worked out what tactics it would adopt (ANTH 0.7; text: Garcia Martinez and Tigchelaar (1997: i. 112— 45); tr: Vermes (1997: 161-83); commentary: Yadin (1962);
(Ma'aseh Bere'shit), i.e. the mysteries of the natural order (m. Hag 2:1).
10. Besides the novelty and daring of their speculations, the apocalyptic texts create in the reader a strong sense of fresh revelation. Time and again the apocalyptists expressly claim that what they write was received directly from God or from his angels. They use prophetic modes of discourse, and describe visions of God as impressive as any granted to the earlier prophets. But there was a problem here. Apocalyptic flourished at a time when it was widely accepted in Judaism that direct prophetic revelation had ceased, and that revelation was to be found only in the prophetic writings from the past. Claims to new revelation would have been looked at askance. This faced the apocalyptists with the problem of how they could justify their novel ideas. Basically they used two strategies. First, they linked them as closely as they could to the canonic texts, presenting them, wherever possible, as an interpretation of Scripture. Thus, as we noted earlier, the cosmological speculations of 2 Enoch 24-33 are set out as a kind of commentary on Gen 1—3, and the story of the fall of the Watchers in i Enoch is made to hang on Gen 6:1—5 (ANTH A.4). This element within apocalyptic brings it close to the Rewritten

POST-BIBLICAL JEWISH LITERATURE 800
evidence of a lively interest in this topic. Philo argued that the Ten Commandments were the basis of all the detailed legislation of the Pentateuch, which he called 'the special laws': each special law is the concrete expression of one of the broad, moral principles of the Decalogue (Philo, Dec. 154; cf Spec. Leg. i.i). This view was also, apparently, acceptable to some rabbinic jurists, though some were worried about overemphasizing the Decalogue, and banned its separate liturgical use, so that heretics should not say that only the Ten Commandments were important. In the gospels Jesus is challenged to identify the fundamental principle of the law (Mt 22:34-40; Mk 12:28-34). He replies by citing Deut 6:5 and Lev 19:18 (the 'love commandment'). On another occasion he is quoted as saying that the Golden Rule is the sum of the law and the prophets (Mt 7:12; Lk 6:31). Jesus' contemporary, the Pharisaic scholar Hillel, is depicted in rabbinic tradition as giving the same answer to a proselyte (ANTH D.2). A late echo of this debate is found in a remarkable passage in the Babylonian Talmud (b. Mak. 230—243), which concludes that Hab 2:4, 'the just shall live by his faith', is the essence of the Torah. (On the Talmud see MAJ GEN B.II.)
Bible type of Bible interpretation. It allows the apocalyptists to domesticate their novelties within accepted tradition, and to cover them with that tradition's authority. Secondly, the apocalyptists claimed to be in receipt of teachings passed down secretly from the great sages who lived back in the classic age of prophecy. These teachings, though given then, could not be disclosed till the end of time to which they referred. This claim, expressed with greater or lesser clarity, lies behind many apocalyptic works (see e.g. Dan 12:4). They attributed their work to such great prophetic figures of the past as Enoch, Moses, Elijah, Baruch, and Ezra. The implication is clear: despite appearances, what they are offering is not new fangled; it is, in fact, ancient teaching of unimpeachable authority. Significantly the one apocalypse that breaks with this convention of pseudepigraphy is the book of Revelation in the New Testament. Perhaps because he lived in a community which believed that prophecy had been restored to Israel, John, the author of this work (whoever he was), felt he could put it out under his own name.
D. Wisdom. 1. The ancient scribes were the bearers of an intellectual tradition which they themselves called 'Wisdom'. This wisdom consisted first and foremost in knowing how to behave properly towards one's fellows, particularly social superiors. At the most trivial level it was concerned with etiquette, at the most profound with how to live the life of the sage, honoured by all and influential in society's affairs. The scribes invented an ethical literature which embodied their wisdom on how to live the good life, examples of which have been included in the canon, notably in Proverbs, which is attributed to one of the great patrons of Wisdom, King Solomon. Proverbs illustrates one of the classic forms of Wisdom—the short, gnomic utterance that encapsulates in striking and memorable language a wise saying.
4. Besides the sayings-collection, another form of ethical literature that has survived from early Judaism is the Testament. This purports to be the last will and testament of some biblical figure who, on his deathbed, at a moment of particular solemnity and insight, passes on to his posterity his accumulated wisdom (cf. Gen 49:1—28). The best-known example of such a work is the Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs. (Gk. text: de Jonge (1978); trs: Charles, APOTii. 282-367; de Jonge, in Sparks (1984: 505—600); Kee, OTP i. 775—828; commentary: Charles (1908); see further de Jonge (1953).) Though some maintain that this composition, which survives only in Greek, Armenian, and Slavonic, is Christian in origin, behind it (with its unquestionably Christian elements) probably stands a Jewish text, only minimally Christianized, which may date back to as early as the second century BCE. Certainly such testaments were known in Second Temple Judaism, as the Aramaic fragments of a Testament ofLevi from Qumran prove. The Testament of Reuben, the first of the testaments in the collection, illustrates one of the themes explored in wisdom, namely the nature of woman, her place in society, and how the sage should behave towards her (ANTH 0.3). This topic features prominently already in Proverbs, which in its account of'the woman of valour' paints a picture of the ideal woman, ideal at least from the standpoint of her husband (Prov 31:10-31), though it also notes her less than ideal sisters, the prostitute and the adulteress, and warns against their snares (Prov 2:16— 19; 6:24; 7:10-23). Testament of Reuben takes an altogether darker view: 'Women are evil, my children, and by reason of their lacking authority or power over man, they scheme treacherously how they might entice him to themselves by means of their looks.' The world of the scholars and sages was an intensely male world, in which women seem to have played no part.
2. This tradition of ethical wisdom flourished throughout the Second Temple period and beyond. A late example of it, still largely in the classic form of a collection of pithy sayings, is found in the Chapters of the Fathers (Pirqei fAbot), one of the tractates of the Mishnah (ANTH D.I). 'Abot, probably the single most influential ethical treatise in the history of Judaism, is anomalous within the Mishnah (on which see MAJ GEN B.II). It is the only non-halakic tractate in the whole corpus, and its inclusion within a law-code raises sharply the question of the relationship between ethics and law. Whoever included 'Abot within the Mishnah (possibly Judah the Prince, the Mishnah's traditional editor) must surely have felt that its contents were a necessary complement to the legal material contained in the rest of the work. But in what sense does it complement the law? Is there an implication that 'Abot expresses the universal moral principles that underlie the concrete prescriptions of the halakah? This may well be the intention, though as some rabbinic jurists pointed out, it is hard to find a rational, moral basis for some of the ritual laws of the Torah, such as the prescriptions regarding the red heifer (Num 19:1-13), which nevertheless should be obeyed as divine commandments (Pesiq. Rab Kah. 4.7).
5. Abstract reflection on the wellsprings of ethical behaviour reaches its climax, as far as the surviving literature of Palestinian Judaism is concerned, in the Instruction on the Two Spirits from the Qumran Community Rule (iQS 3:13—4:26) (ANTH 0.4). The discursive, systematic, theological nature of this text is hard to parallel in Hebrew literature before the
3. Given the scribes' basic concern with morals, and their increasing involvement during Second Temple times with Torah, it was inevitable that the relationship between ethics and law should have become an issue for them. There is

8oi POST-BIBLICAL JEWISH LITERATURE
period. (On i Enoch see MAJ GEN A.y.) The underlying astronomical ideas of this part of i Enoch are probably Babylonian in origin, though they are almost certainly primitive compared to the best Babylonian astronomy of their time. This Babylonian science came to the author of the i Enoch treatise through the medium of Aramaic, which was the official language of administration and diplomacy in the Persian empire, and which would have been known, of necessity, by Jewish scribes in Jerusalem. This explains why i Enoch is in Aramaic and not in Hebrew. It was probably a group of such scribes, alive to developments in thought beyond the borders of Judah, who introduced this alien wisdom into Israel.
Middle Ages. The author sees the world as a battleground between a spirit of good and a spirit of evil. Each individual's behaviour is good or bad according to the extent to which he is dominated by one or other of these spirits. Only those dominated by the spirit of good are fit to join the community. In the providence of God the spirit of good will ultimately triumph over the spirit of evil. The rabbis also, later, reflected on the sources of moral action and identified within the human personality two tendencies—an inclination towards evil (yeser harcf) and an inclination towards good (yeser hattob). For the rabbis these two inclinations belong to the human psyche and are essentially under the control of the individual's will: the inclination towards evil can be suppressed and the inclination towards good promoted through the study of Torah and the observance of the commandments. The Qumran theologian's position, however, is less clear. It is possible he is saying little more than this, but some have argued that he holds that each individual's moral character is irrevocably predetermined by cosmic forces beyond his control. The uniqueness of the Instruction on the Two Spirits within early Palestinian Judaism favours the view that it has been influenced by Persian dualistic thought about the cosmic conflict between Ahura Mazda (the spirit of good) and Angra Mainyu
8. According to i Enoch it was the angels who revealed this knowledge to Enoch. The appeal to revelation is standard in early Jewish 'science', and it is for this reason that scientific texts are largely to be found in the apocalypses. This is puzzling to the modern mind. Since the basic premise of the scientific approach is that nature is governed by laws that can be discovered and understood by the human mind, why involve revelation? Surely the author the Book of the Heavenly Luminaries knew that the observations of the sun's motions which he has reported went back ultimately to painstaking observation and recording in the great temples of Babylonia. Why then claim that this doctrine was divinely revealed to the antediluvian sage Enoch? Perhaps he felt that this was the only way in which to get a hearing for these ideas. While he himself might have had faith in the power of the unaided human intellect, his compatriots needed the stronger validation of divine revelation. However, it was common throughout antiquity to link scientific discovery to divine revelation. Great new advances in knowledge or technology were routinely traced back to culture-bringers (whether divine or human) who derived their crucial knowledge from the gods.
(the spirit of evil). The Instruction on the Two Spirits comes from the preamble to the Community Rule (on which see MAJ GEN F.2), which deals with initiation into the community and the definition of its boundaries. It is clearly attested only in the Cave i version of the Rule, which dates palaeographically to around 100 BCE.
6. Though Wisdom originally may have had to do with morality, the content of the term seems to have been expanded from an early date to include also knowledge of how nature works. Solomon, the great patron of Wisdom, was seen as being expert not only in the principles of correct behaviour but also in the mysteries of nature (cf i Kings 4:29—34). Opinion seems to have been divided in early Wisdom circles on the question of whether nature could be comprehended by the human mind. At the end of Job, a text dating probably to the fifth century BCE which belongs fundamentally to the Wisdom tradition, the view seems to be taken that nature is intrinsically unknowable: it is deeply mysterious and beyond human comprehension, and the only human response possible to it is one of awe and praise of God's power (Job 38:1—6). In Proverbs, however, which dates probably from roughly the same period, a very different position is taken. There it is claimed that Wisdom was used by God as the architect of the universe, and that that same Wisdom is accessible to men (Prov 8:22-33). Th£ implication clearly is that there is a rational order in nature (what the Ionian philosopher Heraclitus, probably a near contemporary of the author of Proverbs, called a Logos), and that this rational order could be comprehended by the human mind. To put it in the language of Proverbs: man can attain to Wisdom, and that Wisdom includes an understanding of how nature works. We have here the first glimmerings of Jewish interest in science—the establishment of the necessary preconditions that make the rational investigation of nature possible.
9. Enoch, then, was acclaimed by the Enochic circles as the patron of the new science—a role that he continued to play within Judaism for many centuries to come. It is interesting that they did not try to appropriate Moses as their patron, or link their doctrine more obviously with the account of creation in Gen i. This might be because in their day Moses had not yet achieved the position of supreme authority within Judaism. This seems unlikely, since they probably lived after the reforms of Ezra, which, apparently with Persian backing, promulgated the Torah of Moses as the law of the Judean community. It is more probable that by claiming to be heirs of ancient doctrine from well before the time of Moses they were challenging Moses' dominance and proposing an alternative Enochic paradigm for Judaism. Certainly their new knowledge had repercussions in the strictly religious domain. On the basis of their astronomical observations they appear to have advocated a reform of the calendar, which would have involved following a strictly solar calendar rather than the luni-solar calendar that prevailed in Judaism at the time. Certainly, as is evident from the Book of Jubilees, the Book of the Heavenly Luminaries was later used to support calendrical reform. The Qumran community seems to have adopted the Enochic solar calendar and this was one of the reasons for their split with the Jerusalem establishment which controlled the temple and still followed the old lunisolar calendar.
7. This interest in the workings of nature is clearly attested in the earliest layers of i Enoch—the Book of the Heavenly Luminaries (ANTH 0.5), which probably dates to the Persian

POST-BIBLICAL JEWISH LITERATURE 802
physical appearance, such as the shape of their limbs. Possibly originating in Babylonia, physiognomy was a respected branch of knowledge in antiquity, with an extensive body of technical literature, including a treatise on the subject by Aristotle. It remained influential in Western thought down to the nineteenth century when it had a late flowering in the pseudo-science of phrenology. At Qumran physiognomical lore was probably the province specifically of the Master
10. Wisdom also embraced much that we would loosely today regard as falling within the domain of magic. Historians of science have long recognized that it is impossible to distinguish sharply between 'magic' and 'science' in pre-modern times. Magic often shares with science the belief that there are rigorous laws governing natural phenomena, which can be known and manipulated. Pseudo-sciences (such as astrology and alchemy) have contributed much to the growth of real science. The interconnection of religion, magic, and science in early Judaism is seen most clearly in the field of medicine. There was a widespread belief in late Second Temple Judaism that sickness was caused by demons. The demons could be expelled in a variety of ways. The victim could exercise selfhelp by praying, repenting of his or her sins, and bringing gifts to the temple. An exorcist could be called in to drive out the demon by reciting incantations or performing other magical rituals. Or a doctor could apply medicine in the form of herbs or other materia medica. Sometimes a combination of these different methods of healing would be used, as a vivid description by Josephus of an exorcism in the name of Solomon shows (Ant. 8.44-9). Th£ arts ofhealing were seen as belonging to the domain of Wisdom. It is not surprising, therefore, that Solomon was revered also as the great patron of'magic', and that exorcists and other magicians often claimed to be relying on doctrines and practices that went back to him.
(Maskil), the sage who was the spiritual mentor of the community. It may have been used for divinatory purposes, to determine who belonged to the Sons of Light, and hence was worthy to enter the exclusive community at Qumran. The Pythagoreans and the later Hekalot Jewish mystics may also have used physiognomy to control entry into their conventicles.
E. Hymns and Prayers. 1. Prayer is one of the elementary forms of religious life and was probably always a feature of the worship of ancient Israel. However, there are grounds for thinking that late Second Temple Judaism witnessed a remarkable flowering of prayer and liturgy, stimulated, perhaps, by the intensification of national and religious life that followed the Hasmonean revolution. A substantial proportion of the surviving literature from the period consists broadly speaking of hymns and prayers. These are found both embedded in literary texts (e.g. in apocalyptic works such as 2 Apoc. Bar.: ANTH E.6) and in liturgical collections—prayerbooks for various occasions. The most important of these collections is the biblical book of Psalms. While many of the Psalms go back to the pre-exilic period, it has long been suspected that a proportion is post-exilic in origin (some being possibly as late as the Hasmonean period), and that the collection as a whole was not put together till fairly late in Second Temple times. The numerous copies of the Psalter from Qumran show how fluid the collection still was even in the first century BCE. Though the copies are in broad agreement as to content, they differ significantly as to the order and the text of the individual Psalms, and they contain Psalms which are not found in the standard synagogue and church psalters.
11. That the darker magical arts were also practised is shown by the Book of Mysteries (Sefer ha-Razim; text: Margalioth (1966); tr. Morgan (1983); see further Alexander
(1986)). The framework of this strange Hebrew work, which has been successfully reconstructed from a number of medieval fragments, consists of a chain of tradition showing how it was passed down from the time of Noah, who received it from the angel Raziel, followed by a description of an ascent through the seven heavens, and concluding with a doxology to be recited before the Throne of Glory. Into this framework, which recalls the apocalypses and the Hekalot literature, has been woven a series of incantations for curing sickness, harming enemies, influencing people, and so forth. The Book of Mysteries is basically a magician's manual of a type well known in antiquity, from which the magician would have copied out and personalized an incantation for the use of a client. What is so shocking about it is that its magic is almost totally black, i.e. it is aimed at causing harm (ANTH D.6). The Book of Mysteries cannot be dated in its present form before the late fourth century CE, but the sort of magic it contains is well attested earlier. The fragmentary Qumran text 4Qj6o, dated palaeographically to the early first century CE, is probably the remnants of a broadly similar book of magical recipes. (Text and tr.: Garcia Martinez and Tigchelaar (1997: ii. 1116—17).)
2. The Dead Sea scrolls have yielded a particularly rich harvest of prayerbooks. There was a tendency among early researchers to regard these all as sectarian compositions and as reflecting, therefore, the peculiar practices of one, possibly atypical, community. It has become increasingly clear, however, that there is nothing distinctively sectarian about many of these texts and that they probably reflect liturgies in more general use. And even those that contain sectarian language may involve the adaptation of common prayers to sectarian worship.
12. The Dead Sea scrolls indicate that some Jews in Second Temple times were interested in another early 'science'— physiognomy. 4QiS6, the key text, dates palaeographically to the Herodian period (text: Garcia Martinez and Tigchelaar
3. It is far from clear who composed the numerous surviving hymns and prayers, and when, where, and by whom they would have been used. Prayers and hymns of various kinds must have been part of the temple service from time immemorial (cf Sir 50:18—19). Many of the Psalms presuppose great cultic occasions in the temple and were probably chanted by levitical choirs. The priests in the temple blessed the people, using from time to time the famous Priestly Benediction (Num 6:24—6)—an ancient and influential liturgical text, adaptations and echoes of which can be detected in
(1997: i. 380—3); tr.: Vermes (1997: 358—9); see further Alexander (1996: 385-94).) The language is Hebrew, but it is written in a rather childish code, which suggests that its contents were deemed esoteric within the community (ANTH 0.7). Physiognomy is based on the idea that a person's character or the nature of their 'soul' can be deduced from their

803 POST-BIBLICAL JEWISH LITERATURE
Vermes (1997: 243—300); commentary: Mansoor (1961); see further Kittel (1981)). This fine collection of Hebrew hymns strikes a note of intense, personal piety, but it is uncertain whether one or several authors were involved in its composition, or the occasion for which it was composed. It is possible that it was intended for use at the Qumran sect's annual festival for the renewal of the covenant. The large Cave i Scroll of the Hodayot is palaeolographically dated to the late first century BCE. Fragments of other fiddaydt-like hymns have also been found at Qumran.
other prayers (ANTH 1.4). And worshippers made confession over the offerings they brought to the temple and may have received words of absolution or encouragement from the priests.
4. Another locus of prayer was the synagogue. The origins of the synagogue are obscure. As an institution it is first attested in Egypt during the reign of Ptolemy III (Euergetes), 247-221 BCE. It may have been a Diaspora invention which was later imported into the Land of Israel. Certainly by the early first century CE there is evidence of synagogues in Palestine, at least in Galilee. From the outset it was recognized that the synagogue was liturgically subordinate to the temple. It could not be a place of sacrifice, since only in Jerusalem could sacrifices be offered to God. It was a place for prayer and the public reading of the Torah. It is no longer possible, however, to reconstruct with any certainty its order of service in the pre70 period. Some sectarian groups, as the Dead Sea scrolls clearly prove, developed their own elaborate liturgies for their own sectarian assemblies. Finally, there is evidence to suggest that private prayer at fixed times of the day (morning and evening), was becoming an important part of individual piety in late Second Temple times.
8. A striking motif, widely attested in Second Temple liturgical texts, is the idea that matching the temple on earth is a temple in heaven, in which the angels worship God. There are, of course, antecedents to this notion in earlier Jewish tradition, notably in Isa 6:1-5, but it seems to have received renewed attention in late Second Temple times. One of the most elaborate expressions of this idea is to be found in the Qumran work known as the Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice (4Q4OO-J; nQiy), the surviving Hebrew texts of which date palaeographically between the mid-first century BCE and the early first century CE (text: Garcia Martinez and Tigchelaar (1997: ii. 806—37, 1212—19); tr.: Vermes (1997: 321—31); see further Newsome (1985)). Though fragmentary, it is possible to see that this text must originally have described the celestial liturgies in considerable detail, though how the author or authors acquired this knowledge, whether by revelation or by deduction from the terrestrial liturgies, is far from clear. The Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice envisage the praying community on earth joining with the angels in heaven to worship God. There is a marriage of earth and heaven. Terrestrial worship is given an added solemnity because the angels are present in the congregation. This same idea lies behind an old element of the synagogue service known as the Qedushah (ANTH £.5), which describes in exalted language the worship of the angelic choirs. The antiquity of the Qedushah is suggested by the fact that a version of it forms part of the Christian eucharistic service. It was probably taken over from the synagogue service early in the history of the church. Such a direct borrowing at a later date would be most unlikely. Similar ideas about the worship of the angels are found in the Hekalot texts of the Talmudic period, which contain some strong and interesting parallels to the Songs of the Sabbath Sacrifice. It is unlikely that the Hekalot mystics borrowed directly from the Qumran texts: Hekalot mysticism, for all its peculiarities, belongs firmly within the tradition of rabbinic Judaism, whose Second Temple forerunners were the Pharisees, whereas the group that produced the Qumran texts was almost certainly the Pharisees' opponents, the Essenes. Rather, both traditions probably originated in the speculations of priestly circles in the Jerusalem temple in late Second Temple times. These priests were probably attempting to reach a more theological understanding of prayer, and to deepen the spirituality of temple worship. The same general motivation may lie behind the emergence of a sacramental theology of sacrifice which linked the binding of Isaac (ANTH A.6) with the Temple Mount, behind which was the idea that the great temple sacrifices were efficacious to atone for sin because they were a re-enactment of the offering of Isaac.
5. It is not easy to match the surviving Second Temple prayer-texts to the various life-settings in which prayer may have been offered. The present-day tradition of prayer in the synagogue is rich and varied, and elements of it may go back to the Second Temple period. The Eighteen Benedictions, or Amidah, which, together with the Shema and its blessings, forms the core of the current synagogue liturgy, is very old (ANTH E.I, 5; for texts of the Amidah and the Shema see Singer (1962); on the synagogue liturgy see Idelsohn (1932); Elbogen (1993); Reif (1993)). Its use was already well established when the Mishnah was compiled (c.2OO CE), and, although in its current forms it presupposes the destruction of the temple, a version of it may have been in use before 70 CE. Parallels between the Amidah and parts of Ben Sirach have long been noted (cf Sira 36:1-17; 51:12 i-xvi (Heb.): though the latter passage may not be genuine Ben Sirach, it is probably, nevertheless, a genuine Second Temple period composition). However, the text is inescapably political in content, and calls explicitly and implicitly for the overthrow of the existing political order. It is hard to envisage on what occasion such a prayer could have been publicly recited before 70 in either synagogue or temple.
6. The growth of sectarian liturgies is clearly illustrated by the Dead Sea scrolls. Qumran may have been a forcing-house for the development of liturgy, because its members had withdrawn from worship in the Jerusalem temple, which they regarded as controlled by an illegal priesthood and polluted. Instead the community followed a rigorous regime of prayer and study, reminiscent of later Christian monasticism (ANTH E.2; see further Falk (1998)). Every year the members reaffirmed their commitment to the community. The basic order for this ceremony of the renewal of the covenant is contained in the opening columns of the Community Rule (on which see MAJ GEN F.2). Its use of adapted versions of the Priestly Blessing is noteworthy (ANTH £.3).
7. One of the most interesting hymnic texts from Qumran is the Scroll of Thanksgiving (Hddaydt) from Cave i (ANTH £.4; text: Garcia Martinez and Tigchelaar (1997: i. 146-205); tr.:
9. It is hard to identify for certain purely private prayers among the surviving Second Temple period prayer texts.

POST-BIBLICAL JEWISH LITERATURE 804
Garcia Martinez and Tigchelaar (1997: i. 550—627; ii. 1134—5, 1152—5); tr.: Vermes (1997: 125—56); see further Schiffman (1975); Davies (1982); Campbell (1995); Hempel (1998)). The rule contained in the Damascus Document is less strict than that in the Community Rule, which seems to envisage a celibate, all-male society, largely self-contained, with only limited contact with the outside world. The Damascus Document envisages marriage and procreation, and a wider range of social and commercial contacts. The groups to which it applied seem to have been scattered through the towns of Judea. The relationship of the Community Rule and the Damascus
Unquestionably the Amidah in the second century CE was prayed both as a private prayer and with the congregation. It is also hard to know how to contextualize some of the prayers and hymns embedded in the literary texts. Were these composed purely for literary effect, or were they intended for actual liturgical use, or so used? 2 Bar. Apoc. (on which see MAJ GEN c.6) illustrates the problem. It contains a number of very fine laments for the destruction of the temple (ANTH E.6). Might these, or similar texts, have been used as part of a special litany for the destruction of the temple? There is evidence later in Judaism for groups, known as the Mourners for Zion (abele siyyon), who dedicated themselves to special liturgies commemorating the fall of the temple.
Document has been the subject of lively debate. There is no totally satisfactory solution to this problem, but one plausible suggestion is that the Community Rule and the Damascus Rule relate to two different wings of the same broad religious movement. The 'mother' community was at Qumran, and the Community Rule relates to life there. The Damascus Rule relates to groups of supporters of the Qumran community who lived under a less demanding spiritual regime in various parts of Palestine, and possibly even abroad, but who looked to Qumran for spiritual guidance, and may from time to time have joined the community there in worship, for example at the annual festival of the renewal of the covenant (on which see ANTH £.3). The usefulness of such support groups to the Qumran community is obvious. If the Qumran community was celibate, then it could not have renewed itself by natural means. It would have had to rely on fresh vocations to replace the members who had died or left. The support groups, which did marry, would have provided a natural pool of recruitment. The Damascus Rule is in the same style of Hebrew as the
F. Rules of Religious Associations. 1. Another feature of late Second Temple Judaism was the growth of private religious associations. The great public religious institutions of Judaism were the temple and the synagogue. Any Jew was free to attend either. The private religious associations, however, imposed restrictions on membership over and above Jewishness. In some cases very strict criteria for membership applied. Participation in the group's activities was only possible after an act of commitment to the group's distinctive world-view. These associations were sectarian in character. Their basic assumption was that the generality of Jews were too lax in their observance of Judaism. The group felt it had to adopt stricter standards, to follow a more demanding spirituality. These associations were linked to renewal movements, which were openly critical of official religion, and which campaigned vigorously to win their fellow Jews to a more rigorous way of life.
Community Rule. The earliest copy of it found at Qumran seems to date to around the mid-first century BCE, long after the Quman community was founded. This may be purely accidental. However, it might suggest that the marrying wing of the movement developed comparatively late in the movement's history.
2. First-hand evidence as to how one of these groups organized itself comes from the Dead Sea scrolls, among which are a number of Community rule books (known as serakim: sing, serek), the most important of which is the great Community Rule (Serek hayyahad) from Cave i, a work written in distinctive Qumran Hebrew, which dates palaeographically to around 100 BCE (ANTH F.I). (Text: Garcia Martinez and Tigchelaar (1997: 1.68—99); tr-: Vermes (1997: 97—117); for the Cave 4 fragments see Alexander and Vermes (1998); commentaries: Wernberg-M011er (1957); Leaney (1966).) From this it is clear that entry into the community was tightly controlled, and involved a novitiate of two or possibly three years. When the novice was finally admitted to full membership his property was merged with that of the community. He then lived a life of prayer (ANTH E.2), study, and probably work under a strict discipline which governed all aspects of his life and behaviour. The community was hierarchical and authoritarian, and was dominated by a priestly elite. The spiritual head of the community bore the title Maskil (or Enlightener). As we have already noted the Qumran community had a very dark, dualistic view of the world (ANTH 0.4). They divided humankind into Sons of Light and Sons of Darkness—a division, significantly, which applied to their fellow Jews as well.
4. Another religious community, similar in some respects to the one at Qumran, is described by Philo of Alexandria (on whom see MAJ GEN A.3) in his treatise De Vita Contemplativa
(ANTH F.3; text and tr: Colson and Whitaker (1971: ix. 112-71)). They were known as the Therapeutae, and their communal settlement was located on the shores of the Mareotic Lake outside Alexandria in Egypt. They lived a life of withdrawal from the world and had affinities with pagan communes such as the 'Pythagorean' communities, which sprang up from time to time in the Mediterranean world in antiquity. Philo's account of the Therapeutae is so Utopian that some have doubted whether any such group ever actually existed. However, the parallels with Qumran and with the Pythagoreans suggest that there is some historical reality behind his idealized picture. And even if it is not real, it still shows that people were beginning to conceive of the possibility of such closed religious orders, and such an intense, unworldly way oflife.
5. Rabbinic sources in the Mishnah and Tosefta have preserved evidence of groups of observant Jews who banded together to form 'associations' (haburot) in order to observe stringently the laws of tithing, and to prepare and eat their everyday secular food in conditions of ritual purity (ANTH F.4). On the Mishnah see MAJ GEN B.II. The Tosefta is a parallel law-
3. Another rule book from Qumran is the Damascus Document, a number of copies of which partially survive, including two from the Middle Ages which turned up in a storeroom
(genizah) in the Ben Ezra Synagogue in Cairo at the end of the nineteenth century (ANTH F.2; texts: Charlesworth (1995);

805 POST-BIBLICAL JEWISH LITERATURE
The story quoted at ANTH F.5 is typical. It is taken from the fourth-century Hebrew commentary on 'Abot (see MAJ GEN D.2), known as the 'Abot dc Rabbi Nathan. Two major recensions (A and B) of this work survive. The story is taken from the A recension (text: Schechter (1979); trs.: Goldin (1955) [Recension A]; Saldarini (1975) [Recension B]; see further Saldarini (1982)).
code to the Mishnah, of roughly the same date (3rd cent. CE) (text: Zuckermandel (1937); tr.: Neusner (1977—86); introduction: Stemberger (1996: 149—63)). Since some of these rabbinic traditions seem to refer to the period before 70 CE, the question arises as to the relationship between these associations and the pre~7O Pharisees. This is a matter of some dispute. It is likely that the associations were Pharisaic institutions. The traditions regarding them have been passed down by the posted rabbis, the Pharisees' spiritual heirs, and the associations shared with the Pharisees a distinctive, and socially divisive, concern for tithing and ritual purity. It would probably be wrong to identify the associations totally with the Pharisaic movement. All the members of the associations may have been Pharisees, but not every Pharisee may have belonged to an association. The associations may have represented an inner circle of the particularly observant, within the broader Pharisaic movement. There were degrees of affiliation to an association. A candidate went through a period of initiation and probation in which he progressively took upon himself the duties of an associate (haber). After the period of probation he entered into full membership by making a solemn declaration before the whole association (or, according to another source, before three of its members) that he would observe the laws of tithing and of ritual purity with regard to secular food. Anyone who broke the rules of the association was expelled. The associations had a rather loose structure. They were not communes. There is no evidence that the associates lived together, or held their property in common (as did the Qumran Essenes and the early Christians). We do not hear of the associations having governing bodies. We do not even have clear evidence that they met for communal meals—though it is a reasonable assumption that there must occassionally have been communal sessions accompanied by a meal. Basically what the associations seem to have been were loose fellowships of people who formally recognized each other as strictly observant in matters of purity and tithing, as Jews with whom even the most scrupulous could share a meal with a good conscience.
7. Though primitive, these schools were among the most creative institutions of Second-Temple Judaism. The students were for the most part young adult males who would have had some basic education. They were probably unmarried, and had not yet acquired family responsibilities. Even when they left the school they may have retained links with the teacher and returned to him from time to time for instruction. The schools were fellowships. The students were expected to minister to the teacher and to treat him with respect. Teacher and pupil took their meals together, and seem to have observed distinctive rules of etiquette, and possibly in some cases even of dress, which marked them out from the rest of society. Historically speaking one ofthe mostimportantofthese schools was the Jesus-circle. The followers of Jesus formed a classic sect within Judaism, which managed to survive the violent death of its founding teacher. The organization ofthe early church fits well into the patterns of religious association found in late
Second Temple period Judaism. The closest literary parallels to the Qumran Community Rule are to be found in early church orders such as the Didache. In fact the organization of the Qumran community in remarkable ways anticipates the organization of two of the major institutions of later Judaism and Christianity—the yeshivah and the monastery.
G. Hagiography. 1. A rudimentary biographical literature begins to develop in Second-Temple Judaism. Initially it focused on the biblical heroes, and filled out their lives with legendary additions. It grew naturally out of the process of retelling and filling the lacunae in the biblical narratives (see ANTH A.6). The Bible story functioned as the national epic of ancient Israel, and was crucial for Jewish national identity, just as the Homeric epics were crucial to Greek national identity. It is not surprising, therefore, that the major figures of the national epic should have become cultural icons and their stories embellished. Moses, the lawgiver of Israel, whose Torah was the foundation ofthe Jewish polity, became the most revered national hero. Philo wrote an important life of him in Greek, which represented him as the wisest of lawgivers. Josephus recorded extensive legendary material, probably originating among Egyptian Jews, which fills out the obscure period of Moses' life when he was a prince at the court of Pharaoh. He describes a series of successful military campaigns which Moses conducted on Pharaoh's behalf in Ethiopia (Ant. 2. 238—53). The exaltation of Moses reached its peak in the Exagoge of Ezekiel the Tragedian. This Greek drama, composed probably by a learned Alexandrian Jew in the second century BCE, has survived only in fragmentary quotations in later writers (text, tr., and commentary: Jacobson (1983); tr.: Robertson, OTPii. 803-20). It seems to have retold the story ofthe Exodus ofthe Hebrews from Egypt down to about Exod 15. In one crucial passage in which he forsees in a dream the giving ofthe Torah on Sinai, Moses is apotheosized
6. Religious schools formed another type of religious association in early Judaism. The Qumran community had many of the attributes of a school: certainly study and teaching were among its primary functions. Most schools, however, were smaller and less complex than Qumran and comprised only a teacher and a circle of students. The school did not necessarily have its own buildings, but may have met in public places, such as the porticoes of town market-places. Some teachers were peripatetic and wandered around with their students. During a session of the school the teacher may have sat on a stool while the students sat in a circle on the ground 'at his feet'. The sessions of the school were public and passers-by would have stopped and stood at the back listening to the discussion. Rival teachers might have appeared from time to time and challenged the master to debate, and perhaps have tried to draw some of his students away. The organization was simple. On the teacher's death the students scattered. Some may have attached themselves to other schools, others may have gone back into ordinary life or set themselves up as teachers on their own account. Only in rare cases would the school have survived the teacher's death. A vivid picture of these schools emerges incidentally from rabbinic literature.

POST-BIBLICAL JEWISH LITERATURE 806
the Greek king to renounce their religion. There was a widely circulated story about a mother who was forced to witness the death of her seven sons before she herself paid the ultimate price. This story was given powerful philosophical treatment in 4 Maccabees (ANTH 0.4; text: Rahlfs (n.d: i. 1157—84); trs.: Townshend, APOT ii. 653—85; Anderson, OTP ii. 531—64; commentary: Hadas (1953); see further van Henten (1997)). The author, provenance, and date of this work, which influenced later Christian martyr literature and iconography, have been much debated. The text is written in a highly cultured Greek by a Jew well-trained in rhetoric and philosophy (its underlying message is the power of reason to control the emotions). It is clearly a Jewish text and was probably composed in Palestine or Syria in the late first or early second century CE. The possibility cannot be ruled out that it originated in Antioch where, in the patristic period, there was a cult of the Maccabean martyrs centred on tombs which were supposed to contain their relics. Though the evidence is far from clear, it is possible that this Antiochian cult of the Holy Maccabees was pre-Christian Jewish in origin.
(ANTH G.I). Though pre-eminent among the biblical heroes, Moses was by no means the only biblical figure to attract legend. We have already noted the strong interest in some circles in Enoch (see MAJ GEN \.j, 0.4-5, D-7~9)- The Qumran scrolls also attest a surprisingly deep interest in the figure of Noah.
2. These legends about the biblical saints served two main purposes. They contained an element of pure entertainment. This can be seen clearly in Joseph and Aseneth (ANTH G.2). This work, which was probably composed by a Jew in Greek in the first century BCE or the first century CE (though whether in Palestine, Syria, or Egypt is much disputed), is basically a romantic novel which elaborates at length on the passing reference in Gen 41:45 that 'Pharaoh gave Joseph... Asenath daughter of Potiphera [ = Pentephres in our text], priest of On, as his wife'. (Text: Philonenko (1968); tr: Cook, in Sparks (1984: 465-504); Burchard, OTP ii. 177-248; Kraemer (1998) calls into question the date and origin of Joseph and Aseneth proposed above.) Joseph and Aseneth and the Esther cycle of stories (both the original Heb. and the Gk. additions) are among the earliest examples that survive from the ancient world of what might be called novels, and it has been argued that Jewish writers made a significant contribution to the development of this genre. However the majority of these tales of the biblical heroes, including Joseph and Aseneth, also had a serious purpose and were meant for edification. The biblical figures were put forward as exemplars whose behaviour was to be followed—or occasionally shunned—by the pious.
5. A martyr literature also developed within rabbinic Judaism. This focused not on the Maccabean period, but on the persecutions under Hadrian (132-5 CE), during which a number of leading rabbis lost their lives. A version of the story of the mother and her seven sons circulated among rabbinic Jews, but significantly the setting was transferred to the time of Hadrian. The definitive rabbinic martyrology was the Hebrew Legend of the Ten Martyrs. (Text: Reeg (1985); tr.: Gollancz (1908: 118-44).) Though in its present form this work may date no earlier than the early Middle Ages, most of the individual tales of martyrdom which it contains are attested much earlier in rabbinic literature (ANTH 0.5), and the genre of martyr-tale, as we have seen, goes back to Second Temple times. A central motif of the martyr literature is resistance to tyranny: this element is particularly strong in 4 Maccabees, and, interestingly, it echoes through the speech which Josephus puts in the mouth of Eleazar, when he exhorts the Sicarii at Masada to kill themselves rather than submit to Roman slavery (J.W. 7.323—36). This motif had resonance in the wider non-Jewish world. It brings the Jewish martyr literature into alignment with pagan Greek texts, such as the work called by modern scholars the Acts of the Alexandrian Martyrs, which records acts of heroic philosophical opposition to political tyranny. A hero of this pagan philosophical movement was undoubtedly Socrates, the story of whose death, so powerfully told by Plato and Xenophon, seems to have been an inspiration to the philosophical opponents of the Roman empire.
3. The veneration of the biblical heroes began to develop in late Second-Temple Judaism into a cult of the saints. Herod built a great mausoleum to mark the graves of the patriarchs in Hebron and adorned the tomb of David with a marble memorial (Jos. Ant. 16.182). Both these sites may have become centres of pilgrimage. Interest in the tombs of the saints is further shown by the curious work transmitted under the name of the Lives of the Prophets (ANTH G.y, text: Torrey (1946); tr: Hare, OTP ii. 379—400; see further Schwemer (1997). Though passed down within the Christian church, and containing in some of its versions Christian additions, the Lives of the Prophets is generally agreed to go back to a Jewish text, probably composed in Palestine in Greek in the first half of the first century CE. The text shows a clear interest in memorializing the sites where the biblical prophets lay buried, with a view, presumably, to encouraging people to visit the tombs and venerate their occupants. The cult of the saints which became so powerful and popular a religious movement among Christians throughout the Levant in the Byzantine period, seems to have its roots in a Second Temple period Jewish practice. Indeed, the fact that so many of the legends of the saints contained in the Lives of the Prophets are found scattered throughout latter rabbinic literature may indicate that the practice persisted among Jews in the Talmudic period as well. It was certainly widespread among Jews in medieval and modern times.
6. Sanctifying the name of God in martyrdom was the supreme example of piety that the great saints could provide. But other exemplary stories were also told about them. Anecdotes about the great teachers circulated within the schools. A particularly rich assortment of these has survived in rabbinic literature. It is natural for students to tell stories (some of which may be far from flattering) about their teachers, but this story-telling served a serious purpose. The teacher was seen as an embodiment of his teaching; he was nothing less than the Torah incarnate (ANTH. G.6, taken from the Babylonian Talmud, on which see MAJ GEN B.II). The student not only listened to what he said but observed his every action. The
4. It was not only biblical heroes who were held up as exemplars. Figures from more recent history were treated hagiographically. A martyr literature began to develop, the initial focus of which was the Jews who had embraced death at the time of the Maccabees rather than obey the command of

807 POST-BIBLICAL JEWISH LITERATURE
imitation of the master was a cardinal principle of rabbinic education. In the absence of explicit teaching by the master on a given subject, a student could cite the master's actions as evidence of his views. Though large numbers of anecdotes about the leading scholars circulated in the rabbinic schools, in some cases constituting all the necessary raw material of a biography, curiously no one ever felt impelled to draw the anecdotes together to form a Life. Had they done so, the resultant text would have looked something like Diogenes Laertius's Lives of the Philosophers. The biographical urge was not entirely absent from post-biblical Judaism, as the expansions of the biblical narratives and the anecdotes about the nonbiblical saints and scholars clearly prove, but, with the possible exceptions of Philo's Life of Moses and the Christian gospels, that biographical urge never reached fruition in anything like a full biography of any individual saint, scholar, or hero.
observe the Day of Atonement at the same time as the rest of Israel, otherwise the Wicked Priest would have been unable to travel to the Teacher's 'house of exile' (? Qumran) on the most holy day of the Jewish year. 'The Poor' is one of the community's self-designations. The term 'Lebanon', which was widely used in early Jewish writings as a designation of the temple
(based on i Kings 7:2; cf. Sifre Deut. 6; Num.R. XI 3), is here transferred to the community: they are now the true temple. On Pesher Habakkuk see MAJ GEN A.2.
2. Philo, On the Creation of the World, 1-3, 7-9,16-20: God as the Architect of the Cosmos (= Gen i)
(i) Some lawgivers have set out nakedly and without adornment what they consider to be just, while others, investing their thoughts with over-abundant amplification, have befuddled the masses by obscuring the truth with mythical inventions. (2) But Moses, rejecting both these courses, the one as inconsiderate, thoughtless, and unphilosophical, the other as mendacious and full of trickery, introduced his laws with a most fine and noble exordium. He refrained, on the one hand, from declaring at once what should or should not be done, or, on the other hand, from himself inventing myths or acquiescing in those composed by others, because he needed to predispose the minds of those who would use his laws to accept them. (3) His exordium, as I have said, is most admirable. It consists of an account of the creation of the world, thus implying that the world is in harmony with the law and the law with the world, and that the man who obeys the law becomes at once a citizen of the world, regulating his actions in accordance with the will of Nature, by which the whole world is itself administered
ANTHOLOGY OF POST-BIBLICAL TEXTS
Note: Round brackets indicate explanatory additions; square brackets supplements of lacunae in MS.
A. Bible Interpretation
1. Pesher Habakkuk (iQpHab), 11:2-12:10: The Trials of the Saints Foretold in Scripture (=Hab 2:15-17)
(11:2) Woe to him who gives his neighbours to drink, pouring out (3) his venom till they are drunk, so that he may gaze at their appointed festivals (Hab 2:15).
(7) Some, admiring the world rather than its Maker, have declared it to be ungenerated and eternal, and, falsely and impiously, have attributed an almost total inactivity to God, whereas they ought, on the contrary, to have marvelled at his powers as Maker and Father, and not to have glorified the world beyond proper measure. (8) But Moses, because he had reached the very summit of philosophy, and been instructed by oracles in the numerous fundamental principles of nature, recognized that all things that exist must be classified either as active Cause or as passive object, and that the active Cause is the pure and unsullied Mind of the universe, transcending virtue, transcending knowledge, transcending the good itself and the beautiful itself, (9) while the passive object is in itself incapable of life and motion, but, once set in motion and shaped and given life by Mind, is transformed into that most perfect work, our world....
(4) Interpreted this concerns the Wicked Priest who (5) pursued after the Teacher of Righteousness so that he might confuse him with his venomous (6) fury in the house of his exile. And at the time appointed for rest on (7) the Day of Atonement, he appeared before them to confuse them, (8) and to make them stumble on a day of fasting, a sabbath set aside for their repose.
You have been sated with (9) ignominy rather than with glory. Now you drink and stagger! (10) The cup in the Lord's right hand will come round to you, and shame will come (n) upon your glory (Hab 2:16).
(12) Interpreted this concerns the priest whose ignominy became greater than his glory. (13) For he did not circumcise the foreskin of his heart, and he walked in the ways of (14) drunkenness, so that he might quench his thirst. But the cup of the venom of (15) God shall confuse him, increasing] his [ignominy] and the pain of [(16) his...]
(16) God, since he was God, foresaw that a good copy could never be produced without a good pattern, and that no object of sense perception could ever be faultless that was not made in the image of an original discerned only by mind. So when he had determined to create our visible world he first formed the intelligible world, in order that he might have an incorporeal, Godlike pattern to use to produce the material world, which would be the exact replica of the older creation, and contain as many objects of sense perception as the other contained objects perceptible only to mind.
[For the violence done to Lebanon will overwhelm you, and the destruction of the beasts] (12:1) will terrify you, because of bloodshed and the violence against the land, the city, and all its inhabitants (Hab 2:17).
(2) Interpreted this saying concerns the Wicked Priest, who will be repaid with (3) the recompense which he himself gave to the Poor. For Lebanon is (4) the Council of the Community; and the beasts are the simple-hearted of Judah who keep (5) the Torah. God shall condemn him to utter destruction, (6) just as he himself plotted utterly to destroy the poor. And as for what it says, Because of bloodshed (7) in the city and the violence against the land, its interpretation is that the city is Jerusalem (8) where the Wicked Priest committed abominable deeds and defiled (9) the temple of God, and the violence against the land refers to the cities of Judah where (10) he robbed the poor of their possessions.
(17) To speak of or imagine that world which consists of ideas as being in some place is impermissible, but we may understand how it exists, if we consider an analogy from our own world. When a city is founded to gratify the great ambition of a king or governor, who, claiming absolute power and harbouring grandiose designs, is eager to display his good fortune, a trained architect comes along who, observing the favourable climate and convenient position of the site, first sketches in his own mind nearly all the parts of the city that is going to be completed—temples, gymnasia, town-halls, marketplaces, harbours, docks, streets, the position of the walls, and the location of the private and public buildings. (18) Having received in his own soul, as on a wax tablet, the form of each of these buildings, he carries about in his head a picture of a city which is as yet
Comment: The Pesharist sees in the words of Habbakuk foreshadowings of precise events in the life of his community, but he refers to these events cryptically. The Teacher of Righteousness was probably the founder of the Community, who was driven out of Jerusalem by the Wicked Priest (one of the Hasmoneans). There is a hint that the community did not

POST-BIBLICAL JEWISH LITERATURE 808
not be led astray and bow down to them and worship them' (Deut 4:19). He may not make an image of any of these, but perhaps he may make an image of the angels, the Cherubim, and the Ofannim (an order of angels) ? Scripture says, 'Of anything that is in the heavens above' (Ex 20:4). One might think that 'in the heavens' refers to images of the sun, the moon, the stars, and the planets, but it says, 'of anything that is in the heavens above'—not the image of the angels, nor the image of the Cherubim, nor the image of the Ofannim.
perceptible only to his mind. Then by his innate power of memory, he recalls the images of the various parts of this city, and imprints their outlines yet more clearly in it. And so, like a good craftsman, he begins to erect the city of stones and timber, keeping his eye upon his pattern, and making the material objects correspond to each of the incorporeal ideas.
(19) We must think about God in the same way. We must suppose that, when he had decided to found the one great city, he conceived beforehand the plans of its parts, and that from these he formed a world discernible only by the mind, and then, using that as a template, he completed the world which our senses perceive. (20) Just as the city which was planned beforehand in the architecf s mind had no place in the external world, but had been imprinted on the soul of the artificer, so the universe that consists of ideas could have had no other location than the Divine Reason, which had set them in order.
He may not make an image of any of these, but perhaps he may make an image of the deeps or the darkness? Scripture says, 'Or in the waters under the earth' (Ex 20:4), which includes reflected images. Thus is the opinion of Rabbi Aqiba. Some say that it includes the Shabriri (demons).
Thus Scripture goes out of its way to pursue the evil inclination, in order to leave no room for anyone to find the least excuse to permit [idolatry]!
Comment: If the essence of Torah lies in its commandments ('what should or should not be done'), why does Moses not plunge straight into an enumeration of the laws? Why does he begin with the story of the creation? The answer is that he wishes to make the point that 'the world is in harmony with the law and the law with the world', and, therefore, whoever follows the law is living in conformity to nature. Philo rejects the common philosophical notion that the world, though contingent, is eternal. He was one of the first to assert (incorrectly) that Gen i teaches the doctrine of creation out of nothing. In keeping with the Platonic theory of ideas, he implies that Gen 1:1 refers to the conception of the plan of creation in the Divine Reason, in accordance with which the physical world was then created (Gen 1:2—2:2). On Philo see
You shall not bow down to them or worship them (Ex 20:5). Why is this said? To show, in accordance with the verse, 'And has gone to worship other gods and has bowed down to them' (Deut 17:3), that one is guilty for the act of worshipping by itself and for the act of bowing down by itself. (You might say,) This is your opinion, but perhaps one is not guilty unless he both worships and bows down? However, Scripture says, 'You shall not bow down to them or worship them', thus indicating that one is guilty for the act of worshipping by itself and for the act of bowing down by itself.
Comment: Does Ex 20:4—5 contain one commandment or two? Is the injunction directed against making images in order to bow down to them, or against both making images and bowing down to them? The first interpretation allows the possibility of images for decorative, non-religious purposes; the second precludes all figurative art. The Mekilta takes the latter view. It also treats 'bowing down' and 'worshipping' in v. 5 as two separate offences and draws in all the parallel verses so as to forbid figurative art in any medium, form, or material. A strict interpretation of the law on images seems to have prevailed in Second Temple times, but archaeology suggests that some took a more liberal attitude in the Talmudic period, when figurative art was found even on the mosaic floors of synagogues. On the Mekilta of Rabbi Ishmael see MAJ GEN A.4~5.
MAJ GEN A.3.
3. Mekilta of Rabbi Ishmad, Bahodesh, 6: The Prohibition of Images (= Ex 20:4)
You shall not make for yourself an idol (Ex 20:4).
He may not make for himself one that is engraven, but perhaps he may make one which is solid? But Scripture says, 'Or any likeness' (Ex 20:4). He may not make for himself one that is solid, but perhaps he may plant a sacred tree? But Scripture says, 'You shall not plant any tree as a sacred pole (an Asherah)' (Deut 16:21).
He may not plant a sacred tree, but perhaps he may make an idol of wood? But Scripture says, 'Of any kind of wood' (Deut 16:21). He may not make one of wood, but perhaps he may make one of stone? Scripture says, 'Or place any figured stones' (Lev 26:1). He may not make one of stone, but perhaps he may make one of silver or gold? Scripture says, 'You shall not make any gods of silver alongside me, nor shall you make for yourselves gods of gold' (Ex 20:20). He may not make one of silver or gold, but perhaps he may make one of bronze, iron, or tin? Scripture says, 'Do not turn to idols or make cast images for yourselves' (Lev 19:4).
