Purity and the Forming of

Religious Traditions in the

Ancient Mediterranean World
and Ancient Judaism
 Dynamics in the History
of Religion

Editors-in-Chief
Volkhard Krech
Marion Steinicke
Ruhr-Universität Bochum, Germany

Advisory Board
Jan Assmann – Christopher Beckwith – Rémi Brague
José Casanova – Angelos Chaniotis – Peter Skilling –
Guy Stroumsa – Boudewijn Walraven

VOLUME 3

The titles published in this series are listed at brill.com/dhr

 Purity and the Forming of
Religious Traditions in the
Ancient Mediterranean World
and Ancient Judaism

Edited by
Christian Frevel and Christophe Nihan

LEIDEN • BOSTON
2013
Cover illustration: Eumenides Painter (4th century bc). Apulian red-figure bell-krater, also known
as Eumenides krater. (C) RMN-Grand Palais (Musée du Louvre) / Hervé Lewandowski.

The scholarly research documented within this book was part of the work of the Käte Hamburger
Kolleg Dynamics in the History of Religions between Asia and Europe sponsored by the German
Federal Ministry of Education and Research.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Purity and the forming of religious traditions in the ancient Mediterranean world and ancient
Judaism / edited by Christian Frevel and Christophe Nihan.
p. cm. — (Dynamics in the history of religions, 1878–8106 ; v. 3)
ISBN 978-90-04-23210-5 (alk. paper) — ISBN 978-90-04-23229-7 (e-book) 1. Rites and
ceremonies. 2. Purity, Ritual. 3. Purity, Ritual—Judaism. 4. Archaeology and religion.
5. Mediterranean Region—Religion. I. Frevel, Christian, 1962– II. Nihan, Christophe, 1972–

BL600.P87 2013
203—dc23
2012017179

This publication has been typeset in the multilingual “Brill” typeface. With over 5,100 characters
covering Latin, IPA, Greek, and Cyrillic, this typeface is especially suitable for use in the
humanities. For more information, please see www.brill.com/brill-typeface.

ISSN 1878-8106
ISBN 978-90-04-23210-5 (hardback)
ISBN 978-90-04-23229-7 (e-book)

Copyright 2013 by Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, The Netherlands.

Koninklijke Brill NV incorporates the imprints Brill, Global Oriental, Hotei Publishing,
IDC Publishers and Martinus Nijhoff Publishers.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, translated, stored in
a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical,
photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission from the publisher.

Authorization to photocopy items for internal or personal use is granted by Koninklijke Brill NV
provided that the appropriate fees are paid directly to The Copyright Clearance Center,
222 Rosewood Drive, Suite 910, Danvers, MA 01923, USA.
Fees are subject to change.

This book is printed on acid-free paper.

 CONTENTS

List of Illustrations .......................................................................................... vii

Preface ................................................................................................................ ix
Abbreviations ................................................................................................... xi
List of Contributors ........................................................................................ xiii

Introduction ..................................................................................................... 1
Christian Frevel and Christophe Nihan

Purity in Ancient Mesopotamia: The Paleo-Babylonian and

Neo-Assyrian Periods ................................................................................ 47
Michaël Guichard and Lionel Marti

Conceptions of Purity in Egyptian Religion ........................................... 115

Joachim Friedrich Quack

Concepts of Purity in Anatolian Religions .............................................. 159

Manfred Hutter

Aspects of Purity in the Phoenician World ............................................ 175

Hans-Peter Mathys

Purity and Pollution in Ancient Zoroastrianism ................................... 183

Albert F. de Jong

The Concept of Purity in Greek Sacred Laws ........................................ 195

Noel Robertson

Concepts of Purity in Ancient Greece, with Particular Emphasis

on Sacred Sites ............................................................................................ 245
Linda-Marie Günther

Greek and Comparatist Reflexions on Food Prohibitions ................. 261

Philippe Borgeaud

Sacral Purity and Social Order in Ancient Rome .................................. 289

Bernhard Linke
vi contents

Forms and Functions of Purity in Leviticus ........................................... 311

Christophe Nihan

Purity Conceptions in the Book of Numbers in Context ................... 369

Christian Frevel

Purity Conceptions in Deuteronomy ........................................................ 413

Udo Rüterswörden

The System of Holiness in Ezekiel’s Vision of the New Temple

(Ezek 40–48) ................................................................................................ 429
Michael Konkel

The Relevance of Purity in Second Temple Judaism according to

Ezra-Nehemiah ........................................................................................... 457
Benedikt Rausche

Purity Concepts in Jewish Traditions of the Hellenistic Period ....... 477

Beate Ego

The Evolution of Purity at Qumran .......................................................... 493

Ian Werrett

Purity Conceptions in the Dead Sea Scrolls: ‘Ritual-Physical’ and

‘Moral’ Purity in a Diachronic Perspective ........................................ 519
Gudrun Holtz

Pure Stone: Archaeological Evidence for Jewish Purity Practices in

Late Second Temple Judaism (Miqwa’ot and Stone Vessels) ...... 537
Jürgen K. Zangenberg

Index of Modern Authors ............................................................................. 573

Index of Sources .............................................................................................. 577
Index of Subjects and Terms ....................................................................... 595
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Robertson
1. The Greek World ............................................................................. 201

Frevel
1. Concentric Purity ............................................................................ 379
2. Structure of Numbers 5:1–4 .......................................................... 382
3. Compositional Hinge ..................................................................... 401

Konkel
1. The Holy Portion of the Land ...................................................... 432
2. The New Temple ............................................................................. 433

Zangenberg
1.–4. Types of Miqwa’ot ........................................................................... 555
5.–7. Stepped Pools from Gezer ............................................................ 556
8. Stepped Pool A(L)350 from Herod’s Second Palace at
Jericho ................................................................................................. 557
9. Detailed Plan of Stepped Pool A(L)350 from Herod’s
Second Palace at Jericho ............................................................... 557
10. Plan of Area R in Gamla: Miqwe in Domestic
Complex ............................................................................................. 558
11. Stepped Pool next to Synagogue in Gamla ............................. 558
12. Pools from the South-East Annex at Qumran ........................ 559
13. Western Half on Industrial Building FB1 with Pottery Kiln
and Stepped Pools at Jericho Palaces ....................................... 560
14. Schematic Plan of the Main Industrial Building in Zone F
during Phase 3a at Jericho ............................................................ 561
15. Stepped Pool next to House and Oil Press in Qedumim /
Samaria ............................................................................................... 562
16.–18. Stepped Pools in Qedumim/Samaria ........................................ 563
19.–20. Mourning Enclosure with Stepped Pool in Jericho
Herodian Necropolis ....................................................................... 564
21. Domestic Quarter on Mount Gerizim: Plan of the North
Western Block of Western Quarter with Bath Tubs ............. 565
viii list of illustrations

22. Bathroom L-14 in Building A-1 (see Fig. 21) ............................. 566
23. Shoe-shaped Stone Bathtub in Bathroom L-14 of
Building A-1 (see Fig. 21) ............................................................... 566
24. Chalk Kraters (qallal) and Mugs from the Jewish Quarter
Excavations at Jerusalem .............................................................. 567
25. Chalk Vessel Assemblage from the Excavations near the
Temple Mount in Jerusalem ........................................................ 568
26. Kraters from the Jewish Quarter Excavations at Jerusalem 568
 PREFACE

The following volume has originated in a series of lectures held at the

University of Bochum, Germany, in December 2008 and January 2009, in
the context of the Käte Hamburger Kolleg ‘Dynamics in the History of
Religions between Asia and Europe.’ The idea was to bring together some
of the best specialists in matters related to the construction, representation
and implementation of purity and impurity in the Ancient Mediterranean,
with specific focus on ancient Israel and ancient Judaism. The questions
and discussions that developed out of these lectures led the editors of the
present volume to invite some additional contributions.
The journey from the organization of these lectures to the present vol-
ume has been a long, albeit fascinating one, and it would not have been
possible without the collaboration of several persons as well as the sup-
port of various institutions. Students from Bochum, Lausanne and Geneva
have been instrumental in the preparation of this volume, especially Chen
Bergot, Jan Clauß, Matthias Jendrek, Katharina Pyschny, and Katharina
Tautz. The revision of the English was assumed, with much care and thor-
oughness, by Dr. Sarah Shectman. Both the original lectures and this vol-
ume have been made possible only by sponsoring through the German
Federal Ministry of Education and Research. In particular, the editors
want to acknowledge the constant support and encouragement that they
received from Prof. Volkhard Krech and Dr. Marion Steinicke, respectively
Director and Research Coordinator of the Käte Hamburger Kolleg. Finally,
the preparation of this volume was also made possible through the gen-
erous support of the Faculty of Theology and Religious Studies from the
University of Lausanne, Switzerland. To all these persons and institutions,
as well as to the contributors of this volume, we would like to express our
most sincere thanks for making the completion of this journey possible.

The Editors
Christian Frevel, Ruhr-Universität Bochum
Christophe Nihan, University of Lausanne
February 2012
 ABBREVIATIONS

Abbreviations in general follow the list given in the latest edition of the
“SBL Handbook of Style”. Additional or divergent abbreviations are listed
after the relating article.
 LIST OF CONTRIBUTORS

Christian Frevel
Professor of Old Testament Studies
Faculty of Catholic Theology
Ruhr-Universität Bochum, Germany

Christophe Nihan
Associate Professor of Hebrew Bible and the History of Ancient Israel
Faculty of Theology and Religious Studies
University of Lausanne, Switzerland

Philippe Borgeaud
Emeritus Professor of History of Religions in Antiquity
Faculty of Arts
University of Geneva, Switzerland

Beate Ego
Professor of Exegesis and Theology of the Old Testament
Faculty of Protestant Theology
Ruhr-Universität Bochum, Germany

Linda-Marie Günther
Professor of Ancient History
Institute of History
Ruhr-Universität Bochum, Germany

Michaël Guichard
Lecturer for Ancient History and Assyriology
Université Paris-I Panthéon-Sorbonne, France

Gudrun Holtz
Lecturer
Eberhard Karls Universität Tübingen, Germany
xiv list of contributors

Manfred Hutter
Professor of Comparative Religions
Institute of Oriental and Asian Studies
Rheinische Friedrich-Wilhelms-Universität Bonn, Germany

Albert F. de Jong
Professor of Religions of Antiquity and Comparative Religion
Institute of Religious Studies
Universiteit Leiden, Netherlands

Michael Konkel
Professor of Old Testament Studies
Theologische Fakultät Paderborn, Germany

Bernhard Linke
Professor of Ancient History
Institute of History
Ruhr-Universität Bochum, Germany

Lionel Marti
Researcher
National Committee for Scientific Research (CNRS)/Collège de France
Paris, France

Hans-Peter Mathys
Professor of Old Testament Studies and Semitic Linguistics
Faculty of Theology
University of Basel, Switzerland

Joachim Friedrich Quack

Professor of Egyptology
Institute of Egyptology
Heidelberg University, Germany

Benedikt Rausche
Doctoral Candidate, Old Testament Studies
Ruhr-Universität Bochum, Germany
 list of contributors xv

Noel Robertson
Emeritus Professor of Classics
Brock University, St. Catharines, Canada

Udo Rüterswörden
Professor of Old Testament Studies
Faculty of Protestant Theology
Rheinische Friedrich-Wilhelms-Universität Bonn, Germany

Ian Werrett
Associate Professor of Religious Studies
Saint Martin’s University, United States of America

Jürgen K. Zangenberg
Professor of Interpretation of the New Testament and
Early Christian Literature; Institute for Religious Studies
Professor of Archaeology; Faculty of Archaeology
Universiteit Leiden, Netherlands
 INTRODUCTION

Christian Frevel and Christophe Nihan

This volume goes back to a three-part workshop on ‘Purity in Processes

of Social, Cultural and Religious Differentiation’ (December, 2008 and
January, 2009). The workshops were part of the research group on ‘purity’
within the Käte Hamburger Kolleg ‘Dynamics in the History of Religions
between Asia and Europe’ at the Ruhr-Universität Bochum. They were
accompanied by several other activities focused on purity, including
workshops on ‘Purity and Religious Dynamics’ (organized by Christian
Frevel and Nikolas Jaspert) and ‘Religious Purity in Asia’ (organized by
Hans-Martin Krämer). In addition, the proceedings of the conference
‘Discourses of Purity in Transcultural Perspective (300–1500)’ (organized
by Nikolas Jaspert) will be published as a complementary volume in the
same series.
Since the methodological approach of the present volume was partly
developed in the context of the international consortium in Bochum, it is
necessary to say a few words about the consortium’s general epistemologi-
cal orientation. The consortium’s research aims at developing a ‘relational’
concept of religion, by combining theoretical and historical approaches.
One of the central assumptions of the Käte Hamburger Kolleg in Bochum
is that the major religious traditions (so-called ‘world religions’) evolved
and developed within permanent mutual exchange processes not only in
their dissemination but also during their formation and constitutional
establishment. By developing a systematic approach towards a theory of
religious transfer, the research consortium in Bochum aims at elaborat-
ing a ‘typology of religious contacts’, in order to describe repeated pat-
terns of influence, adoption, transformation, demarcation, and rejection
in the encounter of religions. This will enable the consortium to develop
tertia comparationis on the one hand, and to describe differentiae specifi-
cae of particular religions on the other, without neglecting their specific
historical and cultural appearance in time and space. The comparison of
religions results from the interplay between exemplary studies and sys-
tematic approaches. Both will regard exogenous and endogenous factors,
as well as the function of religions in their social, political and economic
contexts.
2 christian frevel and christophe nihan

The present volume is explicitly part of this approach, which com-

bines inductive and deductive methods within a process that may best be
described as ‘abductive’. It aims at offering a comprehensive discussion
of the development, transformation and mutual influence of concepts of
purity in major ancient Mediterranean cultures and religions from a com-
parative perspective, with a specific focus on ancient Judaism. To that
effect, the various papers collected in the volume offer a general, com-
prehensive discussion of the material evidence for conceptions and con-
structions of purity and impurity in the ancient Mediterranean, including
literary texts, epigraphy, and archaeology. In addition to ancient Judaism,
the cultures and civilizations surveyed include Mesopotamia, Egypt, Asia
Minor, the Levantine area, ancient Iran, Greece as well as Rome. Although
most of these areas have already been the subject of individual studies, to
the best of our knowledge no similar description of purity in the ancient
Mediterranean has ever been given.
The ambition of this volume is not merely restricted to collect-
ing descriptions of purity concepts and representations in the ancient
Mediterranean; it also aims at elaborating a comparative analysis of these
concepts and representations. The basic methodological assumption
underlying this enterprise is that the ancient Mediterranean and related
areas, such as Mesopotamia, form a diverse yet coherent cultural area,
which offers an ideal ground for a thorough comparative approach from
the perspective of history of religions. Alongside their description of the
material evidence for representations of purity and impurity in their cul-
tural area, all contributions include a more theoretical discussion bearing
upon the main concepts of purity that emerge from their field, as well as
the social and religious functions of these concepts. From a methodologi-
cal perspective, extra emphasis is given in each individual contribution to
the significance of traditio-historical developments both for the elabora-
tion and transformation of concepts of purity and related notions and for
intercultural comparison between different religions and their concepts
of purity within the ancient Mediterranean world.
Overall, the volume aims at working towards a systematic compari-
son of parallel developments and transformations of purity concepts in
the main religious traditions of the ancient Mediterranean world, which
should allow for a general assessment of points of contact and mutual influ-
ences. In addition, specific attention is given to the major functions of the
concepts of purity and their development with respect to the formation
of Judaism in antiquity within its ancient Mediterranean context. Ancient
Jewish culture is characterized by a great diversity of purity concepts that
 introduction 3

can be related to the forming of internal and external processes of dif-

ferentiation and demarcation, resulting in a plurality of ‘Judaisms’. This
situation has logically led in turn to the forming of a sophisticated schol-
arly literature on the topic of purity in ancient Jewish society. However,
the scholarly debate has not really moved beyond the traditional explana-
tion that relates the emphasis on purity issues to an increased focus on
the observance of earlier legal traditions from the Hellenistic and Roman
periods onwards. This model creates numerous problems and the whole
issue will benefit from a renewed approach that situates it in a broader
comparative perspective. Ancient Jewish concepts of purity can work as
a test case of sorts for understanding the complex dynamics involved in
the process of formation, transformation, and adaptation of purity repre-
sentations in a given culture in the ancient Mediterranean. A preliminary
assessment of the main outcomes of this volume is provided at the end
of this introduction.

1. ‘Symbolism and Beyond’: Some Introductory Remarks on the

Concept of ‘Purity’ in Religious Studies

Together with the distinction between ‘sacred’ and ‘profane’, the distinc-
tion between ‘pure’ and ‘impure’ (or clean and unclean) forms one of the
most basic concepts in the history and study of religions. Accordingly,
many of the major developments of that concept are closely related to
more general changes and transformations in the history of religions as
an academic discipline, from its somewhat complicated beginnings in the
late 19th century to some of its most recent developments.1 The following
comments by no means claim to trace the complex history of the con-
cept of ‘purity’ and of the distinction between ‘pure’ and ‘impure’ in the
modern discussion. More modestly, they seek to point out some central
aspects of that discussion and to identify major scholarly trends.
From the outset, the concept of purity has been closely tied to the
discussion of religious prohibitions and, more specifically, to the notion
of ‘taboo’, a Polynesian word borrowed by students of religion in the
second half of the 19th century. This association plays a central role in
the work of William Robertson Smith, The Religion of the Semites (1889),

1 The same is true, of course, of the distinction between ‘sacred’ and ‘profane’; on the
significance of that distinction for the origins of the history of religions as an academic
discipline, see the seminal essay by P. Borgeaud, “Le couple sacré/profane”.
4 christian frevel and christophe nihan

who developed the general theory that the related concepts of ‘sacred’
and ‘impure’ in Semitic religions are in fact the expression of a primitive
fear in the face of certain natural phenomena considered to be invested
with supernatural force and therefore regarded as ‘taboo’.2 In Robertson
Smith’s view, which is representative of the evolutionary scheme that
permeated the study of religions in the last decades of the 19th century,
the distinction between ‘sacred’ and ‘impure’ developed from the undif-
ferentiated concept of ‘taboo’, in connection with the transition from a
‘primitive’ mentality, in which the world is replete with potentially hostile
‘spirits’ and ‘powers’, to a more ‘evolved’ concept of religion that identifies
distinct deities with whom human beings are now able to entertain per-
sonal relationships. This theory, associating the concepts of ‘sacred’ and
‘impure’ with a general concept of ‘taboo’ as a central category for the so-
called ‘primitive’ religions, rapidly became highly influential and remained
dominant throughout most of the first half of the 20th century among
scholars of religion (J. G. Frazer, N. Söderblom, G. van der Leeuw, and
many others). In its popular version, it gave rise to the idea that most rep-
resentations of purity and impurity were the relics, so to speak, of some
fundamental prohibitions (taboos), for which no rational explanations
were to be found because they were imposed by the ‘primitive’ mind on a
world conceived of as mysterious and inhabited by numerous hostile and
incomprehensible forces. Occasionally, other authors sought to combine
this general interpretation of the concepts of purity and impurity with
more ‘material’ explanations, for instance, the idea that some of the rules
declaring various types of animals to be ‘unclean’ had their origins in con-
cerns for hygiene.
The break with this evolutionary model in the course of the 20th century
resulted from the attempt, on the part of ethnologists and cultural anthro-
pologists, to understand non-Western indigenous societies as coherent
cultural systems with their own, distinct rationality, rather than to proj-
ect Western categories upon them. As regards purity concepts specifically,
this trend found its most developed formulation in the classical study of
Mary Douglas, Purity and Danger, first published in 1966, which bore the
significant subtitle: “An Analysis of Concepts of Pollution and Taboo”.3
In a carefully articulated theoretical framework, Douglas conceptualized

2 Smith, Religion of the Semites.

3 Douglas, Purity and Danger. For a comprehensive summary of her theoretical views
on purity, see also Douglas, “Pollution”.
 introduction 5

earlier insights developed in her field studies on the Nuer and Lele tribes
of Niger. Douglas’ 1966 monograph is explicitly directed against the con-
cepts of sacred and impure developed by Robertson Smith and Frazer,
whom she criticizes for their views on the presumed confusion between
these categories in the so-called ‘primitive’ religions.4 Likewise, she rejects
all explanations of purity and impurity (such as the hygienist theories)
as being naively materialistic and sterile.5 In consonance with the struc-
turalist approach in anthropology developed by Claude Lévi-Strauss and
others, she proposes instead to interpret a basic cultural distinction such
as ‘clean’ and ‘unclean’ as part of a classification scheme that orders the
complexity of reality by defining and imposing upon it internal as well as
external boundaries. Against the earlier approach that regarded pollution
beliefs as the relics of various loosely connected, non-rational ‘taboos’,
pollution is now defined as a highly relative category, as is implied by her
classical motto: “Where there is dirt, there is a system”.6
From this perspective, the ascription of polluted status is a means to
protect the system from certain specific elements situated outside of it,
whose intrusion is perceived as a threat to the system.7 Accordingly, pol-
lution beliefs are most apparent when the boundaries of a system are
clearly defined. Ultimately this ‘system’ is itself the culture of a given
society (or social group). In that respect, pollution beliefs—together with
the corresponding purification rituals—manifest the symbolic structures
of that culture, albeit in varying degrees. In certain instances, pollution
beliefs can even serve in a given culture as a general analogy for the social
order as a whole. This understanding of pollution beliefs and representa-
tions as manifestations of a symbolic system is illustrated in typical fash-
ion in Douglas’ detailed analysis of the classification of clean and unclean
animals in the Hebrew Bible (Lev 11 and Deut 14), in which she seeks to
demonstrate that such classification, far from being a mere list of tradi-
tional prohibitions, implies a distinct cosmology that associates ‘classes’ of

4 Douglas, Purity and Danger, 19–28.

5 Douglas, Purity and Danger, 29–32.
6 Douglas, Purity and Danger, 35. See likewise the views expressed in her short article
“Pollution”.
7 This means that, for Douglas, not just any element situated outside of the system is
necessarily perceived as potentially polluting, but more specifically those elements that are
viewed as susceptible to threatening the system’s boundaries. It is in this sense that Douglas
can distinguish between ‘dirt’ and ‘pollution’ later in her book: dirt, although it can be
defined as ‘matter out of place’, is not always polluting, and remains tolerable as long as it
remains outside of the system. See especially Douglas, Purity and Danger, 94–113.
6 christian frevel and christophe nihan

animals and their distinctive features with the basic distinction between
air, water and earth.8
It is probably not an exaggeration to state that Douglas’ theory of pol-
lution has had an influence on later studies comparable, in many ways, to
the influence of the works of Robertson Smith and Frazer in the first half
of the 20th century. Until very recently, her work was usually referred to
as the standard work on concepts of pollution and purity in encyclopedias
about cultural anthropology and the history of religions.9 Although more
recently it has been subject to some significant criticisms (see further
below), it does not appear to have been replaced so far by a theoreti-
cal work of similar importance. In the past decades, countless specific
treatments of purity concepts in a given culture have explicitly adopted
Douglas’ model in their own analyses. In the case of ancient Mediterranean
studies specifically, one may mention for instance Robert Parker’s seminal
monograph, Miasma (1983), which uses a conceptual framework similar
to that developed by Douglas in order to offer a comprehensive, in-depth
analysis of the variety of systems and contexts of pollution that developed
in ancient Greece.10 Furthermore (and perhaps even more significantly),
a vast majority of scholars from various fields appear to have accepted
the general notion that concepts of purity in a given culture should be
approached from the perspective of that culture as a ‘symbolic system’,
even when they do not accept the specifics of Douglas’ analysis.
Gradually, however, a series of critiques has been addressed to Douglas’
interpretation of purity as a symbolic system. While it is not possible, in
the context of these remarks, to review this discussion in detail, it is none-
theless possible to survey some of the most important aspects of these
critiques. Three issues, in particular, may be identified.
(1) A first objection to Douglas’ theory arose relatively early, in the
context of a more general discussion about the epistemology implied by
the structuralist and symbolic approaches. Several scholars have criti-
cized Douglas on account of the high degree of abstraction implied in her

8 Douglas, Purity and Danger, 41–57. However, her interpretation of that passage has
been severely criticized by several scholars since. See on this especially the detailed argu-
ment developed by Houston, Purity and Monotheism, which takes up earlier critiques
against Douglas’ analysis of Lev 11 and Deut 14.
9 See, e.g., among many others, the article by Stetton, “Purification”, esp. 7504. The
author describes Purity and Danger as a “landmark in the study of religious symbolism”
and concludes that “this more systematic approach to purification has restored the con-
cept as a major theme in the study of world religions”.
10 Parker, Miasma.
 introduction 7

view of pollution.11 Even if we grant that pollution beliefs are somehow

connected, at a very general level, with the delineation of fundamental
boundaries in a given culture or social group, this does not automatically
imply that all pollution beliefs may legitimately be viewed as cultural or
religious symbols. Concepts of purity and impurity are not formed over-
night, often having a complex history. They may have diverse origins, have
been adapted and transformed over centuries, or may even be imported
from one culture into another. Furthermore, they are often related to the
specific environment of a group or a society; in other words, they are con-
nected with the ecology of a given group and not just with its cosmology
or its ethics.12 That is, while it is probably safe to assume that all pollu-
tion beliefs somehow have a social function, this does not yet mean that
these beliefs necessarily express social or cultural values. In later essays,
Douglas herself seems to have become aware of this issue, and offers a
more cautious formulation of the evidence, as the following quote, for
instance, appears to indicate.
Pollution beliefs certainly derive from rational activity, from the process of
classifying and ordering experience. They are, however, not produced by
strictly rational or even conscious processes but rather as a spontaneous
by-product of these processes.13
Such statements, however, appear to obscure the relationship between
culture—defined as a “symbolic system”—and pollution beliefs, rather
than clarify it. Furthermore, even in this formulation, representations of
purity and impurity still appear to be derived primarily from the classifica-
tory activity of a given group. In this theoretical framework, other central
issues, such as the complex, multi-leveled interaction between a social
group and its environment (ecology) or between that group and other
groups (exchanges), tend to play a more marginal role.14

11 See, e.g., Tambiah, “Animals”, and her general criticism of the symbolic approach
implied in structuralist theories: “Cultures and social systems are, after all, not only
thought but also lived” (457).
12 See especially the critique of Douglas by “cultural materialists”, and on this Harris,
Cultural Materialism. While the position of Harris (and other exponents of cultural mate-
rialism) has itself been rightly criticized on methodological and epistemological grounds,
there can be no question, in our opinion, that the dynamics of the interaction between
ecological constraints and the cultural productions of a given society remain a central
issue for the analysis of pollution beliefs.
13 Douglas, “Pollution”, 58.
14 It must be recalled here that while Douglas strongly criticizes Robertson Smith and
Frazer, her own theoretical work is significantly influenced by the functionalist approach
8 christian frevel and christophe nihan

(2) Another, yet related, area in which major criticism has been voiced
against Douglas’ theory concerns her concept of boundaries. In Douglas’
view, pollution beliefs tend as a rule to be formed in order to protect divi-
sions within a social group that existed before those beliefs. Douglas even
suggests, as we have seen, that these beliefs are strongest where social and
cultural boundaries are clearly defined and well established. This rather
static conception of purity and pollution beliefs may have something to
do with the importance of the analogy of the body in her work. On numer-
ous occasions she uses the image of the physical body as a simile for the
social or political group: in particular, both need to be defended against
external aggressions through control exerted over the parts of the body
that are most susceptible to such aggressions.15 This homology, however,
tends to predict a certain conception of the relationship between the
group (as a social body) and pollution beliefs: the latter, in Douglas’ analy-
sis, tend to form only once the group has become a well-formed body,
in other words, once its boundaries are clearly defined. However, several
anthropological and ethnological studies have questioned this general
representation, and insisted that in various cultures pollution beliefs are
strongest precisely where the boundaries between two groups, or within
the same group, are not clearly defined. Far from being dependent upon,
or derived from, existing boundaries, pollution beliefs may in many cases
be directly associated with the forming, transformation, or even rejection
of these boundaries. Furthermore, in some instances, the function of pol-
lution appears to aim not at preserving differences (as Douglas tends to
assume) but at separating the like from the like and establishing distance,
or difference, between elements and structures that, in a social group, are
regarded as homologous or identical.16 These and similar observations
suggest, in any event, that we must count on a more complex dynamic
between the forming of pollution beliefs and the delineation of divisions
within a given group or between two or more groups.

of the French sociologist E. Durkheim, who developed a theory of religion as the collective
expression of the values and interests of a social group.
15 For this general homology, see especially Douglas, “Two Bodies”. She herself notes
that her thought on this issue is significantly influenced by the work of M. Mauss.
16 Compare, e.g., the pollution beliefs that, in several cultures, are associated with
same-sex relationships, or with sexual intercourse between kin (‘incest’). For a theoretical
development of this issue, see especially the work of Testart, Des mythes, esp. 19–86. His
analysis is influenced by the work of F. Héritier on the Samo culture; Héritier demonstrates
that this culture is informed by a general division between ‘hot’ and ‘cold’ elements, which
must remain separated. Thus, for instance, it is prohibited for a man to make love with a
breast-feeding woman, because sperm and milk are both regarded as ‘hot’ elements.
 introduction 9

(3) Third, and lastly, a further issue concerns the relation between rep-
resentations and beliefs associated with pollution in a social group and
the various practices that are developed by that same group in order to
maintain, restore or achieve a state of purity, especially (though not exclu-
sively) in the form of rituals of purification. The structuralist approach, of
which Douglas herself was an exponent, is very much informed by a dis-
tinctive view of the ‘communicative’ function of social practices. From that
theoretical perspective, social practices, such as rituals, can be explained
against the background of the ‘symbolic system’ of a given culture and can
thus be interpreted as the concrete manifestations of that general struc-
ture. This theoretical framework is evident in several of Douglas’ analyses
of purification practices in Purity and Danger, as well as in other essays.
However, this approach has been significantly criticized, especially in the
field of ritual studies. The very notion that rituals are intended to ‘com-
municate’ an external reality has been rejected in favor of an approach
that seeks to understand ritual as a ‘self-contained’ activity, which cannot
be aptly described by resorting to the concept of symbol.17 This has led
several authors to distinguish between ‘symbolism’ and ‘indexicality’, on
the basis of the epistemological distinction advanced by the philosopher
C. S. Peirce.18 Contrary to the symbol, an index is a sign that is existentially
related to its signifier (i.e., it does not represent, like the symbol, but indi-
cates). As such, the indexical approach may legitimately describe the rela-
tionships between objects and actions associated in the course of a ritual’s
performance without having to postulate that all these relationships are
necessarily meaningful, and even less that assessment of such meanings
is required for interpreting the ritual’s performance. Other theorists, like
C. Bell, have emphasized the necessity of redefining and reevaluating the
basic notions involved in the study of ritual, such as (especially) concepts

17 This discussion is too complex to be reviewed here in detail. For a comprehensive

assessment of the critique of the ‘communicative’ or ‘symbolic’ approach to ritual, see
especially Bell, Ritual Theory, esp. 13–66, with a strong emphasis on the thought/action
dichotomy that this approach involves; as well as Kreinath, Semiose des Rituals, and more
briefly, his general observations in Idem, “Ritual”. A radical critique of the ‘communicative’
function of ritual was already voiced by Staal, “The Meaningless of Ritual”, who disputes
the notion that ritual “consists in symbolic activities which refer to something else” and
argues that symbolic meanings play no essential role whatsoever for the participants in the
ritual’s performance. A definition of ritual in which the concept of ‘symbol’ is no longer
a constitutive element was also proposed by Rappaport, “The Obvious Aspects of Ritual”,
esp. 179.
18 See Rappaport, “The Obvious Aspects of Ritual”, and more recently Kreinath, Semiose
des Rituals.
10 christian frevel and christophe nihan

of action and agency, practice, and power/empowerment of ritual agents.19

So far, this discussion appears to have had little impact on the analysis of
pollution and purification; on the contrary, the standard approach to puri-
fication rituals in terms of their ‘symbolic’ dimension appears to remain
largely predominant. However, developments in the field of ritual studies
show the limits of this approach and call for a new interpretive framework
for the relationship between discursive and non-discursive practices asso-
ciated with rituals. In particular, this means that purification rituals, like
other rituals, need to be described and explained first and foremost for
themselves, and not merely as the concrete ‘translation’ of a preexisting
symbolic order.

2. Some Methodological and Systematic Aspects of the

Present Volume

There is general agreement that concepts of purity can be used in very

different contexts, in antiquity as well as today; for instance, one may not
eat unclean food, must keep the sancta free from any defilement, keep
the house clean, be morally pure without misdeeds, etc. While not merely
restricted to hygienic aspects, purity and impurity classifications are often
gender biased20 as well as temporally and spatially defined. Categories
of dual differentiation between ‘pure’ and ‘impure’ can be found in all
aspects of thinking that structure the world in symbolic forms: culture,
society, cult, ritual, morality, everyday life, philosophy.21 Following Petra
Bahr, purity concepts can thus be called a “fundamental difference”
(Leitdifferenz).22

19 Bell, Ritual Theory. Instead of proposing a general definition of ‘ritual’, which she
regards as epistemologically problematic, Bell prefers to approach rituals as the result of
what she terms ‘ritualization’. She interprets ritualization as a ‘strategic practice’, which
serves to differentiate a given activity from other practices in a given culture. Basic fea-
tures of ritualization are “strategies of differentiation through formalization and periodic-
ity, the centrality of the body, the orchestration of schemes by which the body defines an
environment and is defined in turn by it, ritual mastery, and the negotiation of power to
define and appropriate the hegemonic order” (Ritual Theory, 220).
20 For this statement, see Bahr, “Purity”, 1562.
21 This holds true not only for the 19th century philosophy of idealism; see for instance
‘division’, ‘discrimination’‚ the ‘art of dialectic’, ‘refutation’ etc. as ‘purification’ in Plato,
Sophistes 226d–e, 230d–e, or ‘purity’ as the foundation of style in speech in Aristotle,
Rhetoric 3.5.
22 With special emphasis on religion: “Reinheitskonzepte . . . sind eine Art norma-
tives Grundmuster der Religion, eine Leitdifferenz anhand derer die Welt eingeteilt und
verstanden werden kann”, Bahr, “Reinheit”, 150 (The English version is slightly different:
 introduction 11

As we have seen above, the symbolic dimension of categories of purity

and impurity was repeatedly stressed by Mary Douglas. As categories
often relating to symbolic values, they are communicative elements as
well and hence part of social interpretational systems.23 The asymmetric
oppositional terms (‘clean’/‘unclean’) provide a basis for a categorization
which, from the perspective of cultural anthropology, must be regarded as
a major social construct. Though not construed spontaneously or inten-
tionally as classifiers and not even restricted to rational activity alone, one
cannot deny that the historically and culturally developed categories func-
tion as a classificatory system in a given social context (even if they do not
merge entirely in this function; see the criticism of Mary Douglas above).
By forming multiple identities, they are meant to stabilize or destabilize
social order within systems of complex interaction that are related to vari-
ous ecological, economic, social, and religious factors. Rather than being
absolute, universal, natural or essentialist categories as in 19th century
scholarship,24 ‘purity’ and ‘impurity’ are to be considered culturally biased,
relative and ascriptive. Using the term ascription highlights the performa-
tive aspect in the application of the pure/impure-scheme, which is not
entirely free from but rather beyond essential, material or physical aspects
that are a matter of description.25 To give an example: While being entirely
culturally biased, the biblical declaration of the leper as “unclean” in Lev 13
is construed against the backdrop of a physical realm of skin deforma-
tion. The performative dimension of the ascription becomes obvious if
one takes into account, for instance, the purity/impurity declaration in
Lev 13:14–17:
But as soon as raw flesh appears in it, he shall be impure; when the priest
sees the raw flesh, he shall pronounce him impure. The raw flesh is impure;
it is scale disease. If the raw flesh again turns white, however, he shall come
to the priest, and the priest shall examine him: if the affection has turned
white, the priest shall pronounce the affected person pure; he is pure.26

“Concepts of purity . . . are a kind of fundamental normative pattern of religion, a para-

mount difference, in the presence of which theworld can be divided and understood”,
Bahr, “Purity”, 1562).
23 Cf. Bendlin, “Reinheit, Unreinheit”, 412.
24 See Maier, “Reinheit”, 474.
25 For the difference between “description” and “ascription” see Gethmann, “Mensch-
sein”, 45–48; and for the correlation of factivity, normativity and ascriptivity, cf. Varga,
“Descriptivity”, 162–71.
26 Jacob Milgrom’s translation.
12 christian frevel and christophe nihan

The period and condition of the impurity are culturally defined, based on
custom and medical knowledge—in this example the alteration of skin into
‘raw flesh’ and the shift to the ‘whiteness’ of the flesh. While the impurity
is indicated by the physical state (“the raw flesh is impure”), the imple-
mentation is in need of a performative act by the ritual expert. The priest
declares the impurity or purity of the person concerned through speech
acts of ascription (“the priest shall pronounce the person impure/pure”).
To give another general example: Although blood is very often regarded
as a highly polluting substance, especially if it is detached from the body,
the defiling capacity of blood is quite relative in different cultures. Human
blood is treated differently from the blood of animals, and female men-
strual blood is treated differently from the male blood of battlefield inju-
ries. While violent bloodshed is defiling, controlled bloodletting is often
considered to ‘purify’ and to have healing power. Blood used in rituals
may have a polluting as well as a cleansing effect. Pollution by blood is
defined contextually to a very high degree. It is not the blood as such and
its natural state as a fluid representative of life but rather the culturally
defined context that makes blood defiling. Once it is defined as pollut-
ing, touching the defiling substance will make the subject impure. The
way to become pure again may be through riddance rites, ablution rituals,
or ‘magic’ invocations, or the pollution may be constrained to a defined
period of time. According to the understanding of ritual mentioned above,
the ‘making of purity’ requires an act of performance to accentuate the
change of status. This performative aspect is not meant primarily to com-
municate values that are connected to ‘purity’ or ‘pollution’, but rather
to function as a transformational agent. Within this transformational
act the culturally set boundaries of purity/impurity are marked and sta-
bilized again. This change of status must not be involved with ablution
or riddance, but rather with an authority (in the sense of agency) that
declares the impure pure again. Alongside the descriptive aspect of con-
tamination there is an ascriptive one that is defined by historical develop-
ment and social convention. Additionally, it has to be stressed that in the
ancient Mediterranean, social structure/sociality and body/corporeality
are strongly correlated;27 hence it becomes obvious that the categories of
‘purity’ and ‘impurity’ have not only cultural but also social aspects.
Thus, as was already revealed in the review of structuralist approaches,
conceptions of ‘purity’ and its counter-concept ‘impurity’ are strongly

27 See Assmann, Tod, 35f; Bester, Körperbilder, 28–40.

 introduction 13

related to a certain worldview and hence they may vary between cultures.
In the present volume a focus is laid on purity as a second-order meta-term
for the description of cultural, social and religious differences.28 To enable
a comparative perspective, the concept is constrained in time and space
to the ancient world: Greece, Western Asia, Mesopotamia, the Southern
Levant, and Egypt in the second and first millenniums bce. Particular dif-
ferences notwithstanding, we consider the ancient Mediterranean a region
with a relative coherence in cultural and religious respects, which evolved
in processes of mutual exchange. Since we are dealing with pre-modern
societies before secularization, the distinction between the different lev-
els (social, cultural, religious) may be somewhat arbitrary and should be
understood and applied heuristically. The approach is rather exemplary
but covers all aspects comprehensively. However, it aims at offering a dis-
cussion of the development, transformation and mutual influence of con-
cepts of purity in ancient Judaism and in major ancient Mediterranean
religions from a comparative perspective.
One of the basic assumptions of the present volume is that purity con-
cepts in the ancient Mediterranean are developed not in isolation but
rather in diachronic and synchronic processes of contact, influence, ref-
erence and interference, i.e. mutual exchange. Hence, the present volume
focuses on a comparison of contents, concepts and especially functions of
purity discourses. The approach retained examines first and foremost the
way in which notions and representations related to purity were used in
the various societies of the ancient Mediterranean; but it also pays atten-
tion to the way in which such notions and representations developed
in the history of these societies. In so doing, the present volume aims
at treating the formation and transformation of purity concepts in syn-
chronic and diachronic exchange processes.
Some further introductory remarks on systematic aspects may be useful
in elucidating the setting of the present volume. While ‘pure’ and ‘impure’
are constructed as diametrical opponents that exclude each other, their
dimensions are not completely parallel in construction. Although physi-
cal contact is crucial for both dimensions, the categories differ regarding
the contact dimension. While the ‘pure’ can be defiled by contact with
‘impure’ matter, the ‘impure’ cannot be made pure simply by contact.
For instance, an impure space may defile a pure person but a pure space

28 See Cancick-Kirschbaum, “Reinigung und Vermischung”, 141.

14 christian frevel and christophe nihan

does not make an impure person pure. Purifying the impure by contact is
restricted to specific agents (e.g. water, blood) and generally to performa-
tive acts (e.g. rituals). In contrast, every contact with the impure defiles
the pure or degrades the state of purity. While ‘impure’ is a cumulative cat-
egory (several impurities can be added, exacerbating the ‘impurity’ or the
temporal extension of the defilement), ‘purity’ usually cannot be gradually
amplified by addition or accumulation. Again it must be stressed that this
general tendency should not be overemphasized or misunderstood in an
essentialist manner. Due to different cultural contexts, exceptions from
the aforementioned ‘rule’ are observable to some extent, for instance, in
Greece.29 While ‘impurity’ is a category often construed in relation to time
(something is temporarily unclean but becomes clean again after a certain
period of time), purity is usually not constrained explicitly by temporal
extensions/limits. For example, the purity required of the priest in order
to perform a sacrificial rite and to access the sanctum is not permanent.
But while the change of status as a prerequisite of cultic acts is often
demanded explicitly (the priest has to perform purification rites at the
beginning of the ritual), the loss of this state of purity after the sacrificial
rite is not precisely defined.
While ‘impurity’ is not a totally coherent construction where under-
lying logic is concerned, the order established by ‘purity’ is much more
coherent. It is a symbolic and structuring system, which is regarded as
endangered and has to be defended. Though purity has some genuine
affinity to religious issues through its partial intersection with the ‘holy’,
impurity does not necessarily have religious aspects.
Special emphasis in this volume is given to the religious aspect of purity
conceptions. Because it is not self-evident from the above-mentioned set-
tings, it should be emphasized that purity in this volume is understood
as a ‘religious’ category or, more precisely, a category related to religious
issues. This relationship is not naturally given (one may look for exam-
ple at Buddhism in ancient China, Japan or Korea, where purity is not
a ‘religious’ category in the same manner), but it is quite obvious in the
‘Western’ area, especially in the Mediterranean.30 Although the categories
of pure and impure are not limited to the cultic sphere in the ancient
Mediterranean, they are nonetheless strongly related to that sphere. To

29 See for instance the different degrees of purity in Plato’s Timaios, 41d, or the exam-
ples given in the paper of P. Borgeaud in this volume.
30 Cf. e.g. Sallaberger, “Reinheit”.
 introduction 15

keep oneself pure or to act in a pure manner is of cultic relevance. Purity

is a very important category for the places where cultic acts are performed
and for the objects and substances with which cultic acts are performed.
Although this is quite obvious, it seems to be problematic to speak of a
separate ‘religious’ purity because there is no concept of ‘religion’ in the
self-understanding of ancient cultures.31 However, we must keep in mind
that the assumption that there was no difference between the religious and
the secular in antiquity follows the argumentative logic of the seculariza-
tion theorem, which has been criticized in recent religious studies.32 It is
necessary to distinguish between the religious and the profane both heu-
ristically and on the level of meta-language in describing purity concep-
tions in ancient Mediterranean religions. Access to purity conceptions will
mainly be through the centrality of the cultic sphere in those societies in
which the difference between the holy and the profane is crucial. Already
because ‘holiness’ and ‘purity’ are closely related, purity is never totally
dissolved from the religious realm, the cultural bias of purity concepts in
general notwithstanding. Although ‘religion’ is neither coextensive to nor
identical with ‘cult’, there is no dimension or aspect of purity that is com-
pletely spiritualized or metaphorized and coevally totally disconnected
from the cult. This assumption has consequences for the understanding
of so-called ‘moral’ purity (see below). Cultic activity in a broader sense,
as it is meant here, is the performative and pragmatic exterior of religion.
Thus ‘impurity’ hinders a person’s ability to participate in the cult (e.g. a
feast, a congregation, a sacrifice, or a specific rite, etc.) or disqualifies an
object from being used in the cult (e.g. as tool, utensil, sacrifice, votive,
etc.). Normally, purity is the precondition for cultic activity or attendance.
In this regard purity is a category of participation or exclusion and inte-
gration or disintegration in a social respect. In the ancient world purity
regulations and purity discourses often function as ‘regulative’ in society,
with both integrating and disintegrating power.

31 For an overview of the problematization of the applicability of the term ‘religion’

in studies of ancient cultures see Bendlin et al., “Religion”. While “ancient terms denote
realms of religious behaviour, . . . none of them captures the meaning of the modern con-
cept of religion” (Bendlin, “Religion”). Bendlin thus votes for “a two-sided concept of reli-
gion that both takes heed of the close connection of the religious with other social systems
and takes into account the ancient differentiation between religious and ‘profane’ spheres”
(Bendlin, “Religion”).
32 See for example Gabriel, “Jenseits von Säkularisierung”; Gabriel, “Religionssozi-
ologie”; Gabriel, “(Post-) Moderne Religiosität”. Also see Graf, Die Wiederkehr der Götter;
Krech, Götterdämmerung.
16 christian frevel and christophe nihan

Let us unfold the aforementioned aspect preliminarily in a concep-

tual manner: In almost every case of the worldviews of the Western
Mediterranean, ‘impurity’ is a physically contagious category related to
spatial concepts. Pure or impure is not only a category of objects or per-
sons but also of places and spaces (e.g. temple precinct, city, land, living
place, etc.). The contagious power of impurity has an unavoidable impact
on the pure space, be it from within (by the actual presence of impurity,
which is defiling) or without (by the influence of impurity from contact
zones or even from afar, which is polluting). Thus, purity and impurity
have a liminal function in establishing the borders of ‘in’ and ‘out’, inner
and outer space, almost on a horizontal axis.33 While the center is pure,
the fringes are more impure than pure and the outside is impure. The
borders may be defined de facto or just symbolically. Every transgression,
be it physical or metaphorical, endangers the state of purity. The latter
is constituted by holiness and/or (re-)established by purification. Purity
thus appears to be part of an ordering system that is endangered by the
defiling capacity of impurity. The latter is deviant and thus a threat to the
established state of order.34 In this respect purity/impurity as a symbolic
category has a regulative function that may be used in a concessive, per-
missive, prescriptive, exclusive, restrictive, etc., manner. The specific use
of the liminal function of purity is dependent on cultural conventions that
may vary, and on the conceptual reversibility or irreversibility of pollu-
tion. However, endogenous and exogenous factors in the development of
purity are strongly correlated.
As purity is the precondition for a proper cult, a sacred space is accord-
ingly disqualified or impaired for valid cultic actions by defilement.
However, it seems important to note that the pure/impure-scheme does
not by itself ‘naturally’ constitute the border but rather makes the bor-
der describable, feasible and operational. The qualifier ‘pure’ ascribes the
quality ‘pure’ to a certain area or aspect of reality. Sacred space is declared
constitutively, initially, intentionally or performatively ‘pure’ so as to
configure it as appropriate for proper cultic activity and for the presence

33 In Mesopotamian tradition there is a vertical axis of purity, too. Sumerian literature

considers the heaven (AN) and the goddess of heaven (INANNA) to be pure (e.g. the Hymn
of the Sacred Marriage between Inanna and Idindagān of Isin, TUAT II, 5:659–673). The
same holds true for Assyrian texts (e.g. A Hymn to Shamash, KAR 55). For further details,
see the paper of M. Guichard and L. Marti.
34 This is the accurate aspect of Mary Douglas’ generalized definition of impurity as
“matter out of place” (Douglas, Purity and Danger, 94–113). This definition allows for spaces
in which impurity is part of the order and thus not necessarily defiling.
 introduction 17

of the divine as main agent and addressee of the cult. This constitution or
preparation of cultic space has to be performed iteratively by declarative
acts or by ritual activity. Acts of purification can be understood as acts
whose sequentiality results in a transition of status from impure to pure,
thus confirming pure status. Purity rituals change (or better, communicate
the change of) the status from impure to pure or confirm the pure state
of the cultic space, the matter used in cult, or the persons performing the
cult. Rituals are based on worldview; they encode it iteratively in perfor-
mative acts that are enacted by and communicated to the participants.35
Hence, the transitional function of purity rituals is most meaningful in
physical, social, and psychological respects. The rituals must be accepted
conventionally to confirm the change of status, which may be symbolic
rather than physical.36 If they are accepted as communicative acts by the
performers and the recipients (that is, the community in which they are
performed), they declare the transformation from impure to pure. The
person who is concerned need not understand the ritual cognitively, but
its agency has to be accepted, i.e. ‘believed in’. This conventional aspect
holds true for the integrative and disintegrative functions of purity and
impurity.
From this basic and over-generalized conception, which describes the
spatial, temporal and social dimensions of purity, it seems obvious that
the pure/impure-scheme is not only a classification system of everyday
life. The religious-cultic dimension of purity is rather inherently predomi-
nant and thus performative. Purity surely comprises aspects of a social
ordering system but does not merge totally therein. The functionality of
purity, as has been seen above, is much more complex and not totally
systematic or fully comprehensible. If there is no universality of purity
issues and if theorizing the function of purity within a symbolic system
is always in jeopardy of too much abstraction (see the criticism above of
the simplification, “Where there is dirt, there is a system”), one must seek
a proper methodological approach to the material. While it is a traceable
term on the object level of language, purity is also used as a second-order
term in the meta-language description of cultural and religious systems.

35 For this understanding of ritual based on R. A. Rappaport, see de Hemmer Gudme,

“Ritual”, 65–66. Ritual and textual coherence of any ritual are interdependent, but not
identical.
36 The pragmatics of ritual includes both indexical and symbolic aspects of signs; see
Rappaport, Ritual and Religion. On the theoretical discussion of indexicality in rituals, see
Kreinath, “Semiose”, 92–105.
18 christian frevel and christophe nihan

By concentrating on the religious aspect, the present volume assumes

that the dichotomy pure/impure is part of the specific terminology of reli-
gions. Without assuming unified and totally coherent systems of religious
thought, purity—especially in the ancient Western Mediterranean—is
considered to be religiously related to, or at least part of, the intrinsic
logic (“Eigenlogik”) of religions. One objective of a comparative approach
may thus be a comparison of purity semantics. Accordingly, many of
the contributions in the present volume stress semantic issues. They do
research on the semantic fields of purity and impurity to comment on the
systematic aspects. Being aware that the comparison of specific religious
traditions on the semantic level is seriously restricted by particularities of
the culturally coded languages, the aim is not to compare the semantics in
particular, either in a diachronic or a synchronic manner. Often the lexical
fields of purity/impurity are not comparable, but the underlying concepts
which are expressed semantically in a specific and distinct manner are.
Even the role or function that purity plays in processes of social, cultural
and religious differentiation and the rituals connected therewith are com-
parable. Accordingly, one needs to concentrate not only on lexemes but
on contextualizations and conceptualizations of terms in descriptive, pre-
scriptive and ascriptive texts, in epigraphic as well as in literary composi-
tions, in narrative contextualizations as well as in textual representations
of performances in rituals, in iconographic representations as well as in
the material culture. Especially for the comparative approach to purity, a
variety of avenues is required and, accordingly, is partially offered in the
present volume.
Besides the semantic dimension, another aspect of the relevance of
purity concepts in comparative studies is the correlation and interconnec-
tion between the anthropological, the social and the cultic dimensions. In
the above-mentioned consortium on religious dynamics, we consider the
formation, contextualization and functionalization of the concept as one
of the tertia comparationis of ancient Mediterranean religions. In processes
that are dependent on the cosmological order and worldview on the one
hand and sociopolitical strategies and balances of power on the other, purity
is often used to assign relevant borders both spatially and socially. Social
stratifications and differentiations are defined by purity.37 This is obvious
for example in the higher demand for purity of priests as compared to lay

37 On this aspect of purity in ancient Israel especially, see Olyan, Rites and Rank.
 introduction 19

people, evidenced in ancient Egypt, Greece, Iran or Israel. In other cases—

for example in the Qumran community—purity is used to demarcate an
in-group from outsiders by defining the in-group as a pure community or
as a community requiring a specific form of purity that others do not have
and cannot achieve.38 In these discourses purity is defined ‘genealogically’
rather than ethnically. Whether outsiders were established as constitu-
tively impure is one of the issues debated in several contributions in the
present volume. In general, no intrinsic impurity is attributed to foreigners
in the ancient world, but purity concepts are frequently used for demarca-
tion, for example in many temple-access regulations. There seems to be a
connection between the challenge from outside and consolidation within
a certain community. The more a religion or society is forced to demarcate
itself by establishing and highlighting borders, the more important the
liminal function of purity becomes in social respects. This constellation
corroborates the critique of Mary Douglas’ assumptions made above. It is
not clear-cut social/religious entities that develop coherent purity-systems.
On the contrary, purity issues apparently arise where those borders are “in
the making” or when they are challenged. Thus it seems more appropriate
to strengthen the integrative and disintegrative functions of purity, which
are correlative and coextensive in historical processes. Understood in this
way, one can speak of the ‘demarcational’ function of purity.
Let us finally touch upon one important aspect of the purity discussion
that is of particular relevance for the present publication: the question
of moral purity. In addition to the basic differentiation between cultic
and non-cultic purity, the distinction between ritual and moral purity is
often stressed as a second basic differentiation. To have a pure heart or
conscience (e.g. Ps 51:12; 1 Tim 3:9) or to act with pure hands (e.g. Ps 18:21)
seems to speak of a purity that is completely disconnected from the cul-
tic sphere and is attributed instead to the ethical realm. The difference
between the two dimensions appears to be clear at first glance: While
ritual purity is considered to be contagious, moral purity seems not to
be. While both have collective aspects, moral purity is rather restricted
to individual behavior. Finally, while ritual impurity may be a temporary
phenomenon, moral impurity is often a lasting one.

38 On the impurity of outsiders in Qumran, see the discussion between H. Harrington

and C. Hayes referred to in Harrington, “Outsiders”; further Himmelfarb, “Purity Laws” and
the contribution of I. Werrett in this volume.
20 christian frevel and christophe nihan

Hence, the so-called moral dimension is discussed time and again as if

it were an antagonist of the ritual dimension. It seems to be a more-or-
less explicit reflex in purity discussions to indicate a linear development
from the physical dimension to an ethical or spiritual moral dimension,
which is expressed metaphorically.39 The presumed development is often
qualified as the difference between ‘archaic’ and ‘rational’.40 The purity
of the heart, the mind or the inner self is explicitly contrasted to ritual or
genealogical purity.
The question of whether moral purity is a metaphor, a category of its
own or a category at all is very much discussed in religious studies. The
issue has been given special emphasis in Jewish and Christian studies.41
The profundity of the discussion in this field, which cannot be unfolded
here, is not always addressed and recorded in the broader field of religious
studies. Nevertheless, there is a growing awareness of the shortcomings of
such conceptualizations of purity in terms of “spiritualization”, alongside
reservations about simplistic models of linear development from ritual
to moral purity and from real to metaphorical meaning. While there is
no denying that purity refers to various contexts, including (un-)ethical
behavior, and that there are relevant issues of morality in purity, the
obvious peril is to confuse ritual and material aspects with moral issues.
Impurity and moral transgressions (‘sin’ in the language of ancient
Judaism and early Christianity) are related but by no means interchange-
able. Purity is often, but not necessarily, a matter of ethics. Even if purity is
considered an ethical issue, this should not lead to disregard for the cultic
dimension. The separation of the two categories is misleading in several
ways: The dimensions of physical and moral purity differ (for example on
the level of acts) but are not two separate concepts, either in synchronic
or in diachronic respects. They are close to each other and are often
intertwined. There is neither a ‘pure’ moral purity nor a physical impurity
without any link to the ethos of a specific society and thus to a certain
ethic. Both dimensions interfere with each other and may be separated
for heuristic purposes only. Every physical purity or impurity has a moral
aspect and all purification has a moral dimension as well. Sometimes the
moral aspect is strengthened explicitly, and sometimes the physical, but

39 Often accentuated by reference to Mark 7 and a construed antagonism to Early Juda-

ism, which does not in fact exist.
40 See for example Angenendt, “Motiv”, 301.
41 See for instance the overview in the publications of J. Klawans: Klawans, Purity;
Klawans, Impurity; further Maccobi, Ritual; Kazen, Jesus; Kazen, Impurity.
 introduction 21

they are never totally detached from each other. This becomes apparent
in the above-mentioned intrinsic cultic dimension of purity in the ancient
Mediterranean and thus holds true only for these systems of thought.
Therein the cultic dimension is not independent from the cultural dimen-
sion, and the cultural dimension implies a certain ethos. The present vol-
ume will follow this line and will not separate the physical from the moral
dimension except for heuristic reasons.

3. Leading Questions

With the invitation to contribute to the present volume, the authors were
presented with some guiding questions for the handling of the material
in their papers. The invitation asked that questions not be answered by
every paper explicitly but rather that they be considered as a framework,
setting part of the agenda. Because some of the papers refer explicitly to
these questions, they are given here as follows:

(1) What role does ‘purity’ play in the forming of religious traditions?
How are representations of purity described in the specific material
with respect to their liminal function from a spatial, temporal, social
and institutional perspective?
(2) What role does purity play, within the geographical and chronological
context, in rituals, cult(s), social organization, as well as in collective
or individual processes of identity formation?
(3) Is there a differentiating semantics of concepts of purity and impurity?
Which are the aspects that come to the fore: physical, cultic, moral-
ethical, or genealogical purity? Is there a remarkable differentiation
between so-called ‘ritual’ and ‘moral’ purity, and if so, how are these
domains distinguished one from the other? How do they influence
each other mutually?
(4) How is the difference between ‘purity’ and ‘holiness’ (or, respectively,
‘pure’ and ‘holy’) evaluated (differences, congruence, interdependence)?
(5) Are there, in the investigated material (texts, images or archaeological
remains), indications of diachronic developments of purity represen-
tations and concepts? Are such developments the result of religious
contacts or influences from outside, or are they exclusively to be
understood as an internal development? Furthermore, are there spe-
cific discourses focusing on the topic of purity, and how are they to be
chronologically and historically located?
22 christian frevel and christophe nihan

4. Overview of the Contributions in the Present Volume

The volume starts with a set of five essays dealing with conceptions of
purity and pollution in Mesopotamia, Egypt, Anatolia, Persia and Phoenicia
within a wide time frame, from the 3rd to the 1st millennium.
The comprehensive treatment by Michaël Guichard and Lionel Marti
introduces the vast quantity of material on ‘purity’ in the ancient Near East
and intends to come a step closer to a synthesis of notions of purity in the
continuum of traditions. By presenting key aspects of purity concepts in
the ancient world, the essay may be read as an introduction to the larger
issues of the volume. After giving some remarks on the lack of system-
atizing studies in the field, the authors present a helpful differentiation
between two levels of purity and impurity issues in Mesopotamia: the one
related to the treatment of impurities in daily life and the other related to
transgressions of order. While the former could be cleansed fairly easily,
the latter especially are in need of ritual experts, who accomplish rituals
either in order to free the people or the objects concerned, or to purify
the ‘world’ from threats coming from the outside as a precondition for the
divine presence within the human world. These levels are not separated
in their study but rather form a complementary perspective on the topic
addressed. The differentiation exposes two main points of emphasis: the
world order as frame and background of purity conceptions in the ancient
world, and the role of ritual experts as the main agents in the context of
purity. In their essay Marti and Guichard focus on Mesopotamian tradi-
tions from two different periods and in different literary genres: on the
one hand Sumerian myths, hymns and incantations stemming from the
third dynasty of Ur and the Old-Babylonian period (22nd–17th centuries
bce), and on the other hand rituals, divinatory series, and exorcisms
coming from the Neo-Assyrian period (9th–6th centuries bce). The first
part unfolds the importance of the purity/impurity dichotomy as a basic
assumption of the Sumerian worldview. Purity is an ideal primordial state
that is corrupted and defiled in time by civilization. Accordingly, purity is
a lost ideal that has to be re-established to stabilize the world. Life causes
defilement so that impurity, paradoxically, appears as a necessary compo-
nent of the order of life itself. As a consequence, permanently endangered
purity has to be re-established again and again within and by the annual
cult. The purification rites that aimed at stabilizing the universal order
and the dynamic equilibration of life and death were the matter of spe-
cialists who performed the rituals in the temple. The rites were addressed
to the gods who guarded the worldly order. Purity is a constitutive prin-
 introduction 23

ciple of world order and a precondition for the divine presence in the
human world. From this perspective purity has little to do with concrete
daily life, although it is considered to be the condition for life in general.
It is rather a matter of royal politics and cult. But as the second part of
the paper shows, this view is also dependent on the particular genre of
texts. By addressing notions of purity and impurity in several texts from
the Assyrian palaces (Ludlul bēl nēmeqi, Šurpu, Maqlû, Bīt rimki, et al.),
the paper introduces basic categories such as inevitableness or conscious-
ness of impurity caused by nature, trespass or external influence. Certain
impurities were unavoidable. Thus the pragmatic dimension of the purity/
impurity-scheme comes into consideration without walking right into
the trap of a moral assessment of this aspect. As or analogous to fault,
impurity provokes divine wrath and thus has to be eliminated by ritual
specialists. As regards the analogy of impurity and fault, purification and
elimination of sins, Guichard and Marti offer a helpful methodological
link between ‘ritual’ and ‘moral’ purity.
The paper of Joachim Quack is an investigation into the relevance of
purity in Egypt, which is strongly rooted in the presentation, discussion
and analysis of ritual texts. His assessment goes far beyond the implicit
idea that purity was in general a very important issue in Egypt. The point
of departure is a lack of systematization of the vast quantity of material
in research on purity issues in Egyptology. With his presentation Quack
aims at identifying the ‘core system’ of purity concepts in Egypt: delimi-
tation and liminality. Purity regulations are restricted to certain places
and certain social groups (especially priests), and their handling depends
on ritual experts. Accordingly, Quack’s paper explores some traits of the
delimiting function of purity, beginning with temple rituals and the acces-
sibility of temples in the first section of his paper. That there was ever a
specific need for purity rituals with regard to place, person and objects
is both expected and well-known. In particular this holds true for the
purity requirements of priests, which seem to be accentuated from the
Ramesside period onward. By focusing on a substantial and long-standing
royal ritual, which is presented in translation in this combination of texts
for the first time, Quack investigates the need for purification of the king
as a substantial part of the ritual. Purity was obviously important among
the Egyptian elites. Besides this general aspect, Quack elaborates on the
demarcational function of purity as regards inner-Egyptian discrimi-
nation. Regional dietary rules in particular were violently imposed on
inhabitants of certain regions. In addition, Quack’s analysis reveals that
purity had a comparable, comprehensive demarcational function with
24 christian frevel and christophe nihan

respect to foreigners and ordinary people. Although the sources in this

regard are scarce, this holds especially true for the Late Period, which is
most interesting in a comparative perspective. As regards the differentia-
tion between moral and physical purity, Quack observes a considerable
imbalance in the classes of material. While the physical aspect is focused
primarily on rituals, the moral dimension is present for example in the
Book of the Dead.
Taking his point of departure from Mary Douglas’ structuralist concept
of order, Manfred Hutter investigates the conception of purity and impu-
rity in Anatolian religions. He assumes that purity is part of the social
structure, and that pollution is an endangering transgression. The Hittite
texts treat impurity as a contagious phenomenon that hinders a person
from taking part in particular cult-related practices and that thus has to be
removed by rituals. The relation between the pure and the sacred is dis-
cussed on the basis of semantic analysis of the relevant Luwian, Hurrian
and especially Hittite terminology. Against the background of the history
of research, Hutter opts for a special category of (cultic) purity in the term
šuppi, but rejects the coinciding equation with “sacred”. While everyday
purity, parkui, serves the society and its cultural system, šuppi enables
participation in cultic actions. Within this basic concept of a “vertical
function” of purity, the contrastive pair pure/impure is governed by the
specific worldview. Pollution endangers and threatens the state order as
well as individual life by endangering the cosmic equilibrium, and thus it
has to be removed.
Two examples, the polluting capacity of corpses and of intermar-
riages, form the starting point of Albert de Jong’s analysis of the ancient
Zoroastrian conception of purity and pollution. Initially, he points to the
very important epistemological differentiation between theory and prac-
tice. He emphasizes that a strict, literal application of demanded purity
regulations would have rendered any contact between Zoroastrians and
non-Zoroastrians impossible. In contrast, de Jong estimates that purity
rules are absolutely crucial to the translation of the Zoroastrian world-
view. As regards the conception of pollution, the paper considers the
difference between unavoidable and non-serious pollutions in everyday
life, which may be removed with simple rituals, and severe defilement,
which requires more elaborate and complex rituals. As in the Egyptian
and Mesopotamian sources, the impurity issue is deeply gender biased,
burdening women more than men. Regarding the development of purity
conceptions in Iranian religion, de Jong argues for a considerable enhance-
ment and intensification in the late Sassanian period, and links this with
 introduction 25

the inner-religious processes of transnationalization, sacralization, spiritu-

alization and textualization. This train of thought is especially interesting
as a contribution to the comparative perspective of the present volume.
One may easily discover parallels in the Egyptian, Greek and Roman reli-
gions as well as in the development of Hellenistic Judaism. However, while
these parallels all roughly date to the same time frame in the late Persian
and Hellenistic periods, the Sassanian example is much later.
Hans-Peter Mathys gives an overview of the Phoenician and Punic
epigraphic and archaeological sources regarding purity. The available
material is sparse and difficult to analyze, so that Mathys is methodologi-
cally reluctant to present far-reaching conclusions. First he argues, within
the frame of cultic continuity in the Southern Levant, that purity issues
may be expected in Phoenician religion as well. The relevant epigraphic
material in Punic inscriptions, which of course remains scarce, shows the
figurative use of the phrase “a pure heart” and uses purity as a category
comprising the correctness of one’s entire life. Such an ethical dimension,
which seems to be distinct from a mere physical dimension at first sight,
may be read against the background of ancient Israelite conceptions of
‘moral’ purity as expressed for example in Pss 19:10; 73:1. The archaeologi-
cal evidence hints at the role of water installations in various sanctuaries,
such as Kamid el-Loz, Bostan esh-Sheik, Tell Amrith, and Kition. Although
such installations may be connected with purity issues and purification
rituals, no firm conclusion can be reached in this respect. Overall the frag-
mentary evidence seems to indicate an intensification of purity concerns
from the Achaemenid period onward.
The essay by Noel Robertson offers a comprehensive discussion of purity
requirements in the so-called ‘sacred laws’ of ancient Greece, especially in
the case of inscriptions placed at the entrance of local sanctuaries. His
discussion emphasizes the importance of a thorough analysis of the lan-
guage used in these inscriptions, especially as regards the two main Greek
terms for ‘pure’, καθαρός and ἁγνός. The term καθαρός has a limited use
and appears mostly in inscriptions that prescribe the means of purifying
a homicide or other offender. The term ἁγνός, meaning not only ‘pure’ but
also ‘holy’, occurs more frequently and refers to the quality of a deity that
is required from the worshipper. Furthermore, it appears to be used exclu-
sively in connection with those deities whose cults pertain to the pastoral
or agrarian milieu or to the weather. For Robertson, this phenomenon
must be correlated with the formative period of the Early Iron Age (ca.
1000–750 bce), when the Greek cities arose, with their (partly new) pan-
theon of deities, after the Mycenaean age. The fact that deities requiring
26 christian frevel and christophe nihan

purity from their worshippers tend to be restricted to pasturing and farm-

ing deities suggests that purity rules, as reflected in the inscriptions of the
6th century and afterwards, were closely related to the recreation of these
two resources in the context of the emerging cities. Robertson then goes
on to corroborate this general thesis by means of a systematic survey of
the rules of purity associated, first, with pastoral deities, and, second, with
agrarian deities in the various inscriptions of Greek sanctuaries. Although
these rules date to a later time, they remained largely unchanged in the
course of time and continued to reflect the pastoral and agrarian cults
that developed in the context of the emerging cities. The main exception
to this concerns the introduction of rules of ‘moral’ purity from the 4th
century bce onwards. The concern for purity of mind seems to be largely
related to the cult of Asclepius (who does not belong to the pantheon
of pastoral and agrarian deities); otherwise, it is only seldom mentioned.
καθαρός also occurs in the context of purification from homicide and
other serious wrongdoings. Robertson notes, in particular, that these rules
for purification were not simply replaced by legal process, but somehow
persisted alongside them. In addition, those rules do not make reference
to the purity rules in the context of the cult, and the two practices appar-
ently remained distinct.
The following essay, by Linda-Marie Günther, offers a general discus-
sion of concepts of purity in ancient Greece, with special attention to the
connection between purity and sacred sites. From a methodological per-
spective, Günther’s study is rooted in a critical discussion of the notion of
‘Greek religion’, in which she basically argues that concepts of purity and
pollution need to be analyzed first and foremost at the level of local cults.
Günther also observes that purity, in Greece, is mostly related to physi-
cal and cultic purity, whereas ‘moral’ purity plays a less prominent role,
and she notes that purity and ‘holiness’ are closely related notions. The
main portion of her study is devoted to a detailed discussion of the liter-
ary and epigraphic sources informing us about defilement and purifica-
tion in connection with Greek sacred sites. The literary evidence that she
addresses consists mostly of accounts found in the writings of Herodotus
and Thucydides, where the topic of defilement of sacred places occurs on
several occasions. Thucydides, as she demonstrates, is especially interest-
ing for the information that he gives not only about defilement of sacred
places—especially through dead bodies—but also about various sacrifi-
cial rituals that were devised by the ancient Greeks for the purification
of those same sacred places. The epigraphic evidence is more diverse, but
here also it is nonetheless possible to draw some important lines of con-
 introduction 27

vergence. The rules regarding pollution and purification that are defined in
these inscriptions did not significantly evolve over the centuries and were
mostly intended to preserve the purity and sanctity of local sanctuaries.
Accordingly, the social relevance of such rules did not extend beyond the
visit to the sanctuary. Nonetheless, these rules had an important collective
function, since one central aspect by which the citizen of a Greek polis
defined himself was in terms of his affiliation with local cults.
The essay by Philippe Borgeaud addresses the way in which ritual prac-
tices pertaining to pollution and purity, and especially food prohibitions,
were used by ancient Greeks as a ‘comparative space’, in which similarities
and differences not only within Greek culture but also with other ancient
cultures could be construed and conceptualized. Food prohibitions, in this
analysis, function as a central ‘cultural operator’, a sophisticated system
of differences that was used by ancient Greeks to comment not only on
their own practices, but also on the practices of their neighbors. The first
aspect is illustrated in relation to the dietary rules defined by Pythagorism
and other philosophical schools. Borgeaud observes that these rules do
not obey a single, comprehensive logic but appear to have various ratio-
nales. Their coherence can only be appreciated when they are interpreted
against the background of the basic structure of Greek meals, which is con-
stituted by sitos (a flour-based dish, generally bread) and opson (including
aliments such as olives, cheese, and onion). The ideal meal is defined by
the correct proportion of sitos to opson; the absence of such proportion,
in contrast, leads to what the Greeks condemn as ‘opsophagia’. This basic
structure defines an alimentary norm of sorts, against the background of
which a wide range of inner-cultural differences can be construed, relat-
ing not only to everyday domestic meals but also to sacrifices. The same
approach was applied by Greek authors in their interpretation of Egypt.
Ancient Egyptian culture, as Borgeaud recalls, was consistently considered
by Greek authors from the perspective of its dietary customs, and espe-
cially its food prohibitions, which were then used by the Greeks in order to
comment on their own alimentary rules, and especially on some distinc-
tively ‘sectarian’ prohibitions such as those pertaining to fish and beans.
A like paradigm can be identified in the representation by ancient Greeks
of Jewish food customs, particularly those pertaining to sacrifices. Thus, as
early as Theophrastes (a disciple of Aristoteles from the 4th century bce),
there appears to have existed a comparative ‘triangle’ of sorts between
Greece, Egypt and Israel, in which food customs and food prohibitions,
as a differential system, formed the general background against which
ancient Greeks assessed their own culture in relationship with others.
28 christian frevel and christophe nihan

The next essay, by Bernhard Linke, provides a transition from Greece

to Rome. Linke’s study offers a comprehensive survey of notions of ‘sacral’
purity in ancient Rome, with a specific focus on the relationship between
sacral purity and social order. From a methodological perspective, Roman
notions of purity and pollution need to be interpreted against the gen-
eral background of ancient Mediterranean culture, especially ancient
Greece. Linke argues that in ancient Greece, purity is inseparable from the
attempt to secure the presence of deities within human society through
the delineation of spatially distinct areas, whose ‘marked-off ’ character
(i.e. their sacrality) was highlighted by physical markers (such as, espe-
cially, boundary stones) as well as by distinctive codes of conduct. Such
marked-off spaces were, however, always ‘precarious’, which accounts
for the importance given to the performance of rituals of purification in
Greek sanctuaries. Compliance with the rules of purity defined by local
sanctuaries establishes the appropriate behavior of a person entering a
sacred precinct to engage in an interaction with the Greek gods. In the
case of ancient Rome, however, the general function of purification ritu-
als appears to have been different, especially in the case of those rituals
performed on a regular basis (and not only in exceptional circumstances);
furthermore, Linke argues that this basic difference should be related to a
more general distinction in the perception of sacred space in Greece and
Rome. In the case of ancient Greece, the general function of purity rules
can be defined as an attempt to increase the ‘densification’ of the sacral
within the human sphere. The Romans, in contrast, had a much more
intense perception of the presence of such sacral forces among them, and
that perception significantly influenced their social, political and religious
organization. Accordingly, in Roman society, the central function of puri-
fication rituals was much more oriented towards the preservation of a
state of ‘harmony’ and stability, whenever that state was considered to be
potentially endangered. Linke shows in detail how this basic difference
applies at the level not only of the main purification rituals that were per-
formed in Rome, but also of the roles ascribed to Roman ritual specialists
(i.e. priests), in contrast to Greek ones. In addition, he demonstrates how
these differences need to be interpreted against the political context of
Rome’s domination within Latium.
The second group of papers moves on to biblical conceptions of
purity by focusing on the main parts of the Hebrew Bible in which the
issue of purity plays a major role: The Torah, esp. the books of Leviticus,
Numbers, and Deuteronomy; the Ezra-Nehemiah composition; and the
book of Ezekiel. These essays intend to carve out the main lines of biblical
 introduction 29

conceptions of purity on the one hand and the specific particularities of

single books in this regard on the other. All the essays contribute to the
relationship between tradition and literary composition, and to such basic
aspects of the conceptualization of purity as the question of ‘moral’ purity,
the relatedness between the sacred and profane, holiness and purity, and
the social function of purity discourses in the Hebrew Bible.
The comprehensive essay on forms and functions of purity in Leviticus
by Christophe Nihan reads the system of purity regulations in Leviticus
against the background of the late Persian period. On the level of social
organization, purity regulations are considered to be regulative, related to
social control rather than to the abstract symbolization of life and death.
By differentiating between physical impurities (mainly Lev 12–15, impu-
rities related to unavoidable conditions) and ‘moral’ impurities (mainly
Lev 11; 18; 20, impurities related to the level of acts), he reveals different
but related forms of social control. Nihan explicitly argues against a sepa-
ration between two distinct forms of impurities. In fact these different
dimensions are linked in substance by building a fence around the sanctu-
ary, and they are linked compositionally through the literary framework
of Leviticus and the emphasis of Lev 16 as the superimposed center of
purification and expiation. Regarding the social function, he determines
that the purity laws are an instrument of internal and external differentia-
tion between social and ethnic groups. On the basis of this assumption,
Nihan argues that the concept mirrors the socio-historical background of
the province of Yehûd in the late Persian period, in which the prevalence
of hierocratic structures, instead of monarchic or hegemonic authority,
was established.
As regards purity issues, the book of Leviticus has usually played a
central role, especially in the case of Lev 11–15, while purity concepts in
the book of Numbers have seldom been considered for themselves. This
observation forms the point of departure for the essay by Christian Frevel
on purity conceptions in the book of Numbers. Giving an overview on the
wide range of texts in this book, he underlines the importance of purity
issues, which are predominantly but not comprehensively in accordance
with the prescriptions of the book of Leviticus. By concentrating on the
bridging function of Num 5:1–4 in a compositional respect, Frevel dis-
cusses the integrity of purity discourses in the Torah, and in particular the
question of the intensification of purity demands in the book of Numbers.
He argues for a spatially based concept, in which the organization of the
social living space is contingent on the sanctuary in the center. With the
important issue of impurities caused by corpses, the book of Numbers
30 christian frevel and christophe nihan

emphasizes the death-life opposition as crucial for the balance of purity

and defilement in a living space, which is governed by the presence of the
deity in the sanctuary and the cohabitation in the midst of the congrega-
tion. By unfolding the compositional function of Num 5:1–4 as a hinge
between Leviticus and Numbers, purity is shown to be constitutive for the
congregation as “holy”.
While Numbers and Leviticus accordingly adhere to a purity concept
that is influenced by priestly ideology and the striving for power, and like-
wise reveal the interests of this social stratum in societal power plays,
the imprint of the book of Deuteronomy is different. The essay by Udo
Rüterswörden introduces the purity conceptions of this book regard-
ing cultic attendance, dietary laws, the military camp, and the impu-
rity of corpses. According to Rüterswörden, the relevant regulations in
Deuteronomy show a familiarity with purity issues, but they are not piv-
otal or part of a theologically grounded purity ‘system’. He discusses the
variation from the ‘priestly system’ in Exodus to Numbers. In his view
there are significant differences to be observed: While the priestly order
defines impurity and purity in terms of substances, the Deuteronomic
concept regards purity as a quality. In consequence, holiness is the state
of election that actualizes purity. Following Moshe Weinfeld in his argu-
mentation, Rüterswörden pays particular attention to the conception of
impurity in relation to the land. He thereby stresses Deuteronomy’s differ-
ence from the idea that a place or land can be made impure, as is attested
repeatedly in priestly and related texts: In Rüterswörden’s estimation, this
idea is alien to Deuteronomy. Instead, impurity is based on action and is
related to the people, not to the land or to a place. It is identified with
‘abomination’ without making morality and impurity completely convert-
ible. Except for the dating of Deuteronomy, Rüterswörden follows Moshe
Weinfeld, who argued for a demythologizing and secularizing motivation
in Deuteronomy. If this is correct and the concept of Deuteronomy has to
be dated prior to Leviticus and Numbers for literary reasons, then the later
sacralization becomes more intensive and important as it is read against
the background of social developments in Yehûd in the Persian period.
This is corroborated in general by the following two papers on Ezekiel
and Ezra-Nehemiah.
Michael Konkel investigates the system of holiness in Ezekiel’s vision of
the new temple in Ezek 40–48. If it is dated to the Persian period, the book
of Ezekiel could then presuppose great portions of the Torah as points
of reference. Konkel demonstrates that the general outline of the temple
follows a spatial order of graded holiness that is interpreted as a verbaliza-
 introduction 31

tion of Ezek 42:20—the priestly discernment between holy and profane.

Access to the sacred precinct is restricted to the Zadokite priests; layper-
sons may enter the outer court, but foreigners are banned totally. Through
a close comparison with the Pentateuchal laws, Konkel shows that Ezek 44
provides a coherent system of interpretation of the Torah legislation,
which he calls a “Zadokite Halakah”. The separation of city and temple in
Ezek 47–48 indicates the ideological intensification of a holiness concept
that withdraws any uncleanness from the sacred precinct and at the same
time decouples holiness from the moral sphere. Hence the purity concept
of Ezekiel 40–48 is ambivalent; as a requirement for access to the sacred
precinct it becomes all the more important, but in contrast to the Torah
this has no direct consequences for the ordinary people who remain sepa-
rated from the center of holiness.
In accordance with Ezek 40–48, the Ezra-Nehemiah composition dem-
onstrates that the temple of Jerusalem is the identity marker par excel-
lence in the late Achaemenid Era. Purity issues are functionalized to
stress the inner cohesion and identity of the community and to sharpen
the outer boundaries by exclusion of foreigners. But the conceptualiza-
tion of purity in particular is different, as the contribution of Benedikt
Rausche shows in detail. Purity in Ezra-Nehemiah is employed in texts
that constitute the postexilic community with regard to the temple. In
the book of Ezra a sort of ‘genealogical’ purity highlights the demand of
purity for adequate and legitimate access to the sanctuary. Ezra 6:21, espe-
cially, indicates a discourse about legitimate cult attendance between the
returnees and the resident people. Separation from uncleanness, which
has moral and physical aspects, is formulated as a precondition to attend
the Passover. While the border in this concept appears to be permeable,
the same does not hold true for the Ezra narrative in Ezra 9–10. Following
a strict demand for the genealogical purity of the ‘holy seed’ (Ezra 9:2),
foreign women, who are regarded as polluting, have to be divorced. Israel
has to separate actively from all the impurities of the nations, as foreign
influence is regarded as a source of defilement. In the second part of his
paper, Rausche discusses the purity strategies in the book of Nehemiah in
comparison to Ezra. Again issues of legitimate access, membership, purifi-
cation of temple and city, priestly purity, exclusion of foreigners and sepa-
ration of the people are addressed, but in a slightly different way than in
the book of Ezra. The moral aspect of purity receives more attention than
the ritual and genealogical dimensions. In sum, Rausche argues for a com-
mon framework for purity issues in postexilic literature. The main lines
are developed from the sanctuary as the center of the community. This
32 christian frevel and christophe nihan

concept was used in textual discourses in social, religious and political

respects quite differently, in an inclusivist as well as an exclusivist man-
ner. In a way, the problematization of purity in Ezra-Nehemiah as pre-
sented by Rausche anticipates the importance of purity issues in identity
discussions in postbiblical traditions of the Second Temple period, which
are treated in the following section.
The volume concludes with a series of four essays that deal with con-
ceptions and representations of purity and pollution in Second Temple
Judaism. A first essay by Beate Ego addresses purity concepts in Jewish
writings of the Hellenistic period. Ego offers a detailed treatment of three
texts in which purity concepts play a major role. The first instance con-
cerns the story of the ‘Watchers’ (celestial beings, members of the heavenly
court) in 1 En. 6–16. She observes that this story refers to a variety of types
of impurity, such as, especially, impurity through (sexual) intercourse,
menstrual blood, the violation of laws about mixtures (sha’atnez laws), as
well as, more generally, the watchers’ transgression of cosmic rules. Most
of these types of impurity are derived from the Torah itself, but they are
creatively used and reconfigured within a specific discourse that offers an
etiology for the presence of violence in the world. In addition, this dis-
course can be interpreted as entailing a halakhic polemic of sorts against
the Jerusalem priesthood, as well as a general critique of the ideology of
Hellenistic imperial cults. The second case that Ego discusses concerns the
reception of purity laws related to purification after childbirth (Lev 12) in
one passage of the book of Jubilees ( Jub. 3:8–14). In Jubilees, the law about
purification after childbirth was already revealed (in an extended form)
to the primeval couple, Adam and Eve. As a result of this recontextualiza-
tion, the law takes on a new dimension, in which access to the sanctuary
at the end of the time of purification is now symbolically connected to
Adam and Eve’s entrance into paradise. This hermeneutical move is part
of a broader trend in Jubilees, which seeks to reinterpret various central
purity rules in the Torah by conferring on them a ‘cosmic’ perspective.
The third and final case concerns the martyrdom traditions reported in 2
Macc 6–7, in which purity rules (especially the prohibition against eating
pork) likewise play a central role. Ego shows, in particular, how the gen-
eral function of such stories is to construe dietary rules, and purity rules
in general, as a central marker of Jewish piety and orthodoxy, but also to
suggest that the purification of the temple achieved by the Maccabees was
the concrete answer of the deity to such piety. Overall, her study points to
the need for a complete reexamination of the role played by purity con-
cepts in Second Temple literature, and of the creativity with which such
concepts were used and developed by the authors of that literature.
 introduction 33

Purity concepts also play a central role in the Dead Sea Scrolls, a topic
that is the subject of an extensive treatment in the next two essays, by Ian
Werrett and Gudrun Holtz. Werrett offers a comprehensive review of the
scholarly discussion about purity at Qumran, which stresses not only the
various positions but also their methodological implications. Two prelimi-
nary sections discuss basic aspects of purity in the Hebrew Bible (such as,
especially, the distinction between ‘ritual’ and ‘moral’ purity), which form
the backbone of purity concepts in the Dead Sea Scrolls, as well as the
classical problem of the identity of the group present at the site of Khirbet
Qumran. Werrett then identifies two major phases in the discussion
about purity at Qumran, from 1947 to 1990, and from 1990 to the present
day. Regarding the first phase, he shows how, through the work of such
scholars as D. Flusser, H. Ringgren, J. Neusner and M. Newton, the rela-
tionship between ‘ritual’ and ‘moral’ purity and impurity at Qumran grad-
ually emerged as a key issue, especially as regards (a) the non-figurative
use of ‘moral’ impurity in Qumran and (b) the locus of purity, which
appears to have moved from the temple to the community itself. The
second phase is characterized by the studies of H. Harrington, F. García
Martínez, J. Klawans and I. Werrett himself. Despite many differences,
one area of consensus that appears to emerge from that discussion is the
central importance, for assessing purity rules at Qumran, of the commu-
nity’s self-understanding as a ‘substitute’ of sorts to the Jerusalem temple,
which they considered to be provisionally defiled. In contrast, one major
issue that has emerged from that discussion is the extent to which it is
possible to treat purity rules in the Dead Sea Scrolls as forming a com-
prehensive system or, conversely, to correlate different concepts of purity
and pollution in the Scrolls with the internal evolution of the community
over two centuries. In a careful discussion of this issue, Werrett rejects the
assumption of a cohesive system of purity in the Scrolls, but also points
out the methodological difficulties involved in correlating different purity
concepts with different stages in the community’s history, as well as the
need to consider other alternatives (such as, e.g., the possibility that the
community tolerated a certain degree of disagreement vis-à-vis the inter-
pretation of biblical rules pertaining to purity matters). Despite these
methodological issues, it remains possible to draw some general conclu-
sions concerning the role of purity concepts at Qumran with regard to
the community’s identity. In particular, the ‘increasing stringency’ of the
Qumran yahad’s interpretation of biblical rules should be regarded as a
reflection of its growing distance vis-à-vis the Jerusalem temple.
The two central issues pointed out by Werrett, namely, the relationship
between ‘ritual’ and ‘moral’ purity at Qumran and the role of diachronic
34 christian frevel and christophe nihan

considerations, are at the center of the study by Gudrun Holtz. She critiques
the recent models of J. Klawans and E. Regev, who separately identify a
three-stage development of the relationship between moral and physical
purity. For her, the way in which these two aspects of purity are already
combined, before 150 bce, in writings such as the ‘Damascus Document’
(CD) calls for a reassessment of the categories involved as well as their
relationship. She argues, in particular, that moral and physical purity in
the Dead Sea Scrolls need to be placed against the broader background
of the anthropology and cosmology evinced by the ‘sectarian’ texts of the
community. The various manifestations labeled as ‘moral’ impurity are
themselves predicated upon a distinctive view of human sinfulness that,
according to Holtz, would be better described as ‘constitutional impu-
rity’. This ‘constitutional’ impurity is itself grounded in a cosmic dualism
(manifest, in particular, in the teaching about the ‘two spirits’), as well as
in a doctrine of ‘predestination’. This conception is already apparent in
a strand of wisdom texts in the Hebrew Bible, as well as in post-biblical
wisdom literature, but the main innovation introduced by the Qumran
community lies in extending this ‘constitutional’ impurity to include
the whole scope of impurities. This development represents a synthesis
between ‘priestly’ and ‘wisdom’ traditions, which might go back to the
Teacher of Righteousness, the putative founder of the Qumran commu-
nity. The general concept of purity identified by Holtz takes two distinct
yet related forms in the ‘sectarian’ practices defined by the ‘Rule of the
Community’ (1QS) and the ‘purity liturgies’ found in Cave 4. Though both
sets of texts combine ‘moral’ and ‘physical-ritual’ concepts of purity within
the broader framework of ‘constitutional purity’, the moral dimension
predominates in 1QS, whereas in the Cave 4 liturgies the physical-ritual
dimension does so. From a methodological perspective, this suggests that
the analysis of the Dead Sea Scrolls should give priority to aspects related
to the literary form of the texts and the social structure of the community
over diachronic considerations, even though the latter cannot be entirely
dismissed.
The last essay of this volume, by Jürgen K. Zangenberg, addresses the
import of archaeological evidence for interpreting purity practices in the
Second Temple period. Zangenberg emphasizes the methodological issues
involved in the discussion, especially as regards the definition of ‘Judaism’
in that period, as well as the scope of the relevant material, which he
identifies as comprising stepped pools (miqwa’ot) as well as stone vessels.
The background for assessing archaeological data related to purity prac-
tices in Second Temple Judaism is the general concern with achieving a
 introduction 35

state of purity in everyday life, and not only in the context of visits to the
temple in Jerusalem, an aspect of Jewish culture in the Hellenistic and
Roman periods that is well documented in several literary sources. The
survey of miqwa’ot makes clear that a wide variety of such pools existed in
Second Temple times. Although these pools often share common features,
such as being cut into bedrock, with steps leading to the bottom, indi-
vidual installations could differ considerably, especially in their size and
capacity as well as in their archaeological context; no systematic develop-
ment can be claimed at that time. The use of miqwa’ot was apparently
common to all strata of Judaism (aristocrats, priests, laity). Furthermore,
miqwa’ot are attested both in Jewish Palestinian and Samaritan contexts,
which may be an indication of the parallel development of a ‘practical
halakhah’ between Palestinian Jews and Samaritans. The use of stone ves-
sels, for its part, was even more widespread in Jewish Palestinian society
(but not in the diaspora). However, the relationship between these vessels
and purity issues in Second Temple Judaism remains difficult to assess.
The increase in the use of such vessels in the Herodian period (2nd half
of the 1st century bce) reflects a variety of economic and political factors,
such as the intensification of international contacts, growing prosperity,
and increasing internal differentiation of Jewish society during Herod’s
reign. It is likely that this situation favored the increase in purity practices
related to the use of vessels in Palestinian Judaism. However, the assump-
tion that the increase in the use and distribution of stone vessels could
be directly related to the ‘quest of purity’ in some Jewish groups (such
as the Pharisees) at that time (e.g. E. Regev) misreads the data and can-
not be substantiated. The connection between the development of purity
practices and changes in the material culture remains a complex one.

5. Dynamics of Purity in the Ancient Mediterranean:

Central Features and Emerging Trends

As was pointed out at the onset of this introduction, the basic objective
of this volume is to offer a survey of the main conceptions of purity in
the ancient Mediterranean, as well as major practices associated with the
opposition between clean and unclean. From a methodological perspec-
tive, this approach takes seriously the variety and diversity of such rep-
resentations and practices in the cultures of the ancient Mediterranean.
Accordingly, the purpose of this volume is not to establish some sort of
‘general theory’ of purity in the ancient Mediterranean. In our view, it is
36 christian frevel and christophe nihan

doubtful that such a general theory is possible, or even desirable, unless

one wants to fall back into the kind of ‘essentialist’ approach to purity
that was commonplace some decades ago. Having said that, it is none-
theless possible to identify some general aspects, at the level of both the
cultural construction and the social function, of the opposition between
clean and unclean; those aspects may legitimately be regarded as defin-
ing central features of purity concepts in the ancient Mediterranean. To
some extent, it is also possible to define some general trends in the form-
ing and transforming of purity concepts in that cultural area. Identifying
such central features and general trends is not only useful for laying out a
general basis for cross-cultural comparison in the ancient Mediterranean;
it may also hold significant potential for further studies on purity in other
cultural areas. In the following, this issue will be discussed from a twofold,
complementary perspective: First, the role of purity in the construction
of social practice in the cultures of the ancient Mediterranean; and sec-
ond, the role of purity in the formation and transformation of religious
traditions.
(1) Purity and the Construction of Social Practice. One basic feature of
purity that is manifest in several of the essays contained in this volume
concerns the way in which purity concepts and representations consti-
tute a central aspect of the implementation of social practice in a given
group. Here, we may have a useful complement to the usual approach to
purity as the expression of a more general ‘symbolic order’, the limita-
tions of which were already discussed above (see § 1). More specifically,
one could say that the opposition between ‘clean’ and ‘unclean’ is one
of the major loci where the relationship between ‘structure’ and ‘agency’
is concretely articulated. In many respects, the opposition between pure
and impure (or clean and unclean) functions as a basic cultural ‘operator’
that relates to further central oppositions in the organization of a social
group. The ascription of ‘purity’ and ‘impurity’, respectively, corresponds
first and foremost to the collective ascription, within a group, of a distinct
status, which is itself related to a series of social roles. ‘Impurity’ is often,
if not always, a category of exclusion. Accordingly, the state defined as
‘unclean’ is negatively marked and usually calls for the performance of
socially codified practices intended to regain a state defined as ‘clean’,
practices that may themselves be more or less institutionalized (e.g. in
the form of rituals). Although the relationship between the construc-
tion of the opposition between pure and impure and the construction of
agency at the collective and individual level varies considerably from one
 introduction 37

culture to the other in the ancient Mediterranean world, some general

features can be identified.
(a) First, purity concepts, in the ancient Mediterranean, are always
related to the divine sphere and the deities of the social group; there is
no such thing as a ‘profane’ or ‘mundane’ view of purity (and impurity)
in those cultures. On the contrary, the opposition between pure and
impure serves first and foremost to define a key aspect of the relation-
ship between human beings (male and female) and deities, which can
then be used, so to speak, in a derivative manner, in order to construe
and conceptualize the relationships between in-group and out-group, or
within the group itself (although even in this case, the ‘religious’ dimen-
sion of purity always seems to remain present). This means that the way
in which social agency is construed through the opposition between
pure and impure within a given group is itself centrally informed by, as
well as related to, the way in which this same group construes its inter-
action with its own deities.
(b) Second, and this aspect is closely related to the first, one promi-
nent feature in the various cultures surveyed in this volume is the way
in which the social construction of the opposition between pure and
impure is related to the social construction of space, especially (albeit
not exclusively) in relation to the division between ‘sacred’ and ‘profane’
space. Especially in Greece or in the Southern Levant, but likewise in
Egypt, Mesopotamia and Asia Minor, the opposition between pure and
impure serves first and foremost to define and restrict access to the gods
in their sanctuaries. In order to understand the full import of this, we
need to keep in mind that local sanctuaries were key ‘nodes’ not just at
the level of the cult, but also in other aspects of social organization (espe-
cially administrative, political and economic). Access to local cults, and
participation in their rituals, was, therefore, a central aspect of the defini-
tion of collective and personal identity and agency in the various cultures
of the ancient Mediterranean. Furthermore, the spatial dimension of the
opposition between purity and impurity was not restricted to the sphere
of local sanctuaries, but could be transferred to other socially construed
spaces, such as, for instance, the palace (especially in the case of Egypt) or
households (in the case of ancient Israel). In this respect, purity concepts
have a central function, in the ancient Mediterranean, with regard to both
the ‘mapping’ of social space as well as the definition of permitted and
non-permitted interactions between specific areas contained within this
social space.
38 christian frevel and christophe nihan

(c) Third, and lastly, all the cultures of the ancient Mediterranean
present—admittedly to varying degrees—‘high-grid’, sophisticated forms
of social, political and economic organization. As would be expected from
such cultures,42 the opposition between purity and impurity, in relation
to the definition of agency at the collective and individual level, is closely
related to what has been designated as ‘ritual mastery’.43 Concretely,
the knowledge of the distinction between ‘pure’ and ‘impure’ (as well
as related distinctions) in such cultures is always in the hands of ritual
specialists, usually priests, who themselves control (or at least have some
degree of influence over) the local sanctuaries. In such societies, submis-
sion to the rules defining how to avoid impurity, what to do in a state
of uncleanness, or how to be purified from such uncleanness, concretely
manifests submission to this priestly authority and—correspondingly—
enacts the empowerment of that authority. It is in this aspect, probably,
that the relation between purity, the construction of collective and indi-
vidual agency, and the establishment or maintenance of social hierarchies
is most obvious.
(2) Purity and the Formation and Transformation of Religious
Traditions. Another central aspect of purity concepts that emerges from
this survey of ancient Mediterranean cultures concerns the role played by
the opposition between purity and impurity in the forming and the ‘den-
sification’ of religious traditions, especially in relation to exogenous and
endogenous factors. Here also, despite the great diversity of the material
surveyed in this volume, it is possible to advance some general remarks.
(a) One distinctive feature that emerges from the cross-cultural
comparison between concepts of purity in the cultures of the ancient
Mediterranean is the significant stability of purity concepts in the ancient
Mediterranean, especially in early times (i.e. third and second millenni-
ums bce). In the case of the Hittite culture, basic concepts of pollution and
purity appear to have changed very little over time (M. Hutter); the same
conclusion arises from the survey of the Egyptian material, for the earlier
periods (J. F. Quack), or of the Sumerian and early Mesopotamian evi-
dence (M. Guichard and L. Marti). This conclusion is not restricted to the
ancient Near East; analysis of the Greek inscriptions pertaining to purity
(from the 6th century bce to the late Hellenistic period) shows that the
notion of purity presented by these inscriptions is essentially ‘unchanging’

42 On this, see especially M. Douglas, Two Bodies, 86–87.

43 On ritual mastery, see, e.g., Bell, Ritual Theory, esp. 107–108 and passim.
 introduction 39

(N. Robertson, L.-M. Günther). If one accepts the analogy between purity
concepts in Israel and in Phoenicia (H.-P. Mathys), this holds true in some
respect for the southern Levant, too. Conversely, when major changes in
these conceptions occur—such as the abandonment of earlier representa-
tions and the emergence of new ones—those changes are largely consis-
tent in reflecting major social, economic, political, cultural and/or cultic
transformations. In this regard, the volume demonstrates that analysis of
the development and transformation of purity notions proves to function
as an excellent indicator for assessing broader cultural changes, especially
from the perspective of their impact on religion and the forming of reli-
gious traditions in antiquity.
(b) Another major contribution of this volume is to help us put into
perspective the changes in the dynamics of purity concepts that take
place during the first millennium bce, especially in connection with the
so-called process of ‘Hellenization’. In early periods, as noted above, purity
concepts exhibit a relative stability and permanence overall. Furthermore,
the Hittite material surveyed by M. Hutter shows that, although external
influences (especially from the Hurrian culture) on Hittite concepts of
purity and pollution are attested, such influences were rapidly assimilated
and integrated into Hittite purity concepts and rituals, without significant
difficulties. The same conclusion holds true, mutatis mutandis, in the case
of the early Egyptian (J. F. Quack) and Mesopotamian (M. Guichard and
L. Marti) material.44 It is only in traditions from the 6th century bce or
later that we witness major and rapid transformations of local repre-
sentations of purity and pollution (emergence of new concepts, aban-
donment or reinterpretation of earlier ones). Although various internal
factors underlying this major modification in the dynamics of purity may
be identified in each culture, external factors are clearly predominant,
especially in connection with the intensification of economic and cul-
tural exchanges in the ancient Mediterranean (see further below). This
development is especially manifest in Greek and early Jewish traditions
from the second half of the first millennium (see especially the essays
by P. Borgeaud and B. Ego; compare also the biblical material presented

44 Quack also notes the relative ‘plasticity’ of Egyptian traditions with respect to the
potential impurity of foreigners (non-Egyptians). For instance, although such foreigners
appear in various traditions to be barred from certain parts of Egyptian sanctuaries—
but not necessarily from the entire sanctuary—because these parts are reserved for the
priests, other traditions attest to non-Egyptians who may become priests, despite their
being foreigners.
40 christian frevel and christophe nihan

by C. Nihan, C. Frevel, B. Rausche and M. Konkel, as well as the Qumran

material surveyed by I. Werrett and G. Holtz). But it can also be observed
in the case of late Egyptian traditions (J. Quack) and—chronologically
postponed—in the Iranian material (A. de Jong). In some Greek traditions
from the second half of the first millennium, this development even gave
birth to a complex tradition comparing Greek and non-Greek purity rules
dealing with food and diet, as P. Borgeaud demonstrates in detail.
At the same time, this observation calls for a revision of the traditional
assumption of a complete cultural ‘break’ between the Hellenistic period
and earlier periods in the ancient Mediterranean. The observed transfor-
mation in the dynamics of purity does not simply start with the emergence
of Hellenistic kingdoms and empires in the ancient Near East following
the death of Alexander the Great. Nor is it a phenomenon that may sim-
ply be accounted for by the encounter between the Greek—or, more
broadly, Hellenistic—culture and other Mediterranean cultures. Rather,
several essays point to the complexity of this phenomenon, which appears
to start in the context of the Persian (Achaemenid) Empire at least (late
6th to late 4th century bce), and will then gradually become more and
more intense during the Hellenistic and Roman periods. Without denying
the role played by reactions against Hellenism in this process (see espe-
cially the essay by B. Ego in the case of ancient Jewish literature), various
essays emphasize the importance of the Persian context for understand-
ing the development of forms of contact and interaction between purity
concepts in the ancient Mediterranean; in the case of ancient Judaism,
specifically, direct contact between Iranian and Jewish concepts of purity
and impurity is also raised by some essays.45 In contrast, other essays
emphasize the fact that contacts between Greek and Semitic concepts of
purity do not simply begin with Alexander’s campaign, but were already
taking place in the period of Achaemenid domination in the Levant
(P. Borgeaud, J. Quack, and H.-P. Mathys). Overall, this calls for a much
more differentiated assessment of the transformation of the dynamics
of purity and impurity in the second half of the first millennium than
the current view of ‘Hellenization’ implies, and for the development of
a theoretical model that takes seriously the complexity of the phenom-
enon of intensification of economic and cultural exchanges that may

45 See especially the essay by C. Frevel on the emergence of the ascription of pollution
to corpses in ancient Judaism, a notion not attested before the Persian period which may
reflect Zoroastrian influence. For the parallels between Jewish and Iranian concepts of
purity and pollution, see in general the essay by A. de Jong.
 introduction 41

be observed in the ancient Mediterranean in the context of the Persian

(Achaemenid), Greek and Roman empires. Additionally, the broader per-
spective regarding processes of densification and intensification of purity
concepts in the ancient Mediterranean also implies that the emphasis on
purity in Hellenistic Judaism is not a separate path in history—a Jewish
‘Sonderweg’, so to speak—but represents a cultural phenomenon that
needs to be assessed against the background of a more general cultural
development.
(c) A further phenomenon that emerges very clearly from the material
surveyed in this volume, in connection with the transformation in the
dynamics of purity and pollution in the second half of the first millen-
nium bce, concerns the close correlation between internal and external
differentiation in the development of purity concepts. This phenomenon
is especially obvious in ancient Jewish literature, although it has some
parallels in other religious traditions from approximately the same period,
especially some Greek philosophical schools (P. Borgeaud). Here, we
have a major difference from earlier conceptions of purity, be it in Egypt,
among the Hittites, or in Mesopotamia, where (a) the concern for exter-
nal differentiation appears to play a much more limited role, and (b) it is
usually not explicitly correlated with processes of internal differentiation
(see J. Quack, M. Hutter, M. Guichard and L. Marti, as well as N. Robertson
and L.-M. Günther for ancient Greece). In some Jewish pseudepigraphic or
apocryphal writings such as the Henoch traditions (1 Enoch) or the book
of Jubilees, the development of distinctive notions of purity and pollution
as a reaction against ‘foreign’ influences—or, more exactly, against influ-
ences that are construed as such by the authors of these writings—goes
hand in hand with polemics against various other Jewish groups, who
are notably accused of succumbing to such foreign influences (B. Ego).
A similar observation applies in the case of Qumran (see G. Holtz) and
in some of the canonical traditions of the late Persian/early Hellenistic
periods, especially those associated with the figures of Ezra and Nehemiah
(B. Rausche). The fact that this situation is especially marked in the case
of ancient Judaism is mostly due to the fact that, in the historical context
of the second half of the first millennium, the markers of ‘Judaism’ were
largely disputed; accordingly, the construction of identity automatically
implied internal as well as external differentiation. For different groups,
purity/impurity concepts thus offer a convenient tool for stigmatizing var-
ious categories of practices (such as nudity in the gymnasia, cf. Jubilees),
specific institutions (such as certain forms of marriages), or categories of
persons (such as, e.g., foreigners) by categorizing them as ‘unclean’ and—
thereby—polluting.
42 christian frevel and christophe nihan

Moreover, it must be observed that, in the second half of the first mil-
lennium, processes of differentiation (both internal and external) often go
hand in hand with other processes of generalization, or even homogeni-
zation, of purity concepts. This is another, related aspect of the transfor-
mation in the dynamics of purity concepts in that historical and cultural
context. The Qumran material surveyed in this volume by I. Werrett and
G. Holtz is especially significant in this respect, since it offers evidence
for both synthetic tendencies with regard to purity/impurity concepts—
such as, e.g., the tendency to merge representations of physical and moral
impurity—alongside the development of radically new conceptions of
pollution, which are themselves part of the general strategy developed by
the community to differentiate themselves from other Jewish groups of
the time, as G. Holtz convincingly shows. However, the same principle is
already at work in some biblical traditions from the late Persian period;
the complex theories laid out in the books of Leviticus and Numbers, in
particular, may legitimately be analyzed along the same lines (see the
essays by C. Nihan and C. Frevel, respectively). In these two books, the
general attempt to define a unified, comprehensive system of pollution
centered on the central sanctuary and the priestly caste makes it possible
to introduce a whole new series of sophisticated legal and religious dis-
tinctions regarding concepts of purity/impurity, which clearly reflect the
changed religious and political situation under the Persian Empire.
Thus, contrary to a widespread assumption in the scholarly literature,
the processes identified here with respect to purity concepts in the sec-
ond half of the first millennium are not antithetic, but rather appear to
be deeply complementary. In the case of ancient Judaism at least, the
close correlation between these processes characterizes the transformation
in the dynamics of purity and pollution that gradually takes place in the sec-
ond half of the first millennium bce, as compared with earlier concepts of
purity in the ancient Mediterranean, be it in Asia Minor, in Mesopotamia,
in Egypt or in classical Greece. This transformation itself corresponds to a
distinct phase in the formation and transmission of religious traditions in
the ancient Mediterranean, which may be regarded as a relevant example
of the concept of ‘densification’ in the context of ancient Western reli-
gions. Such processes of ‘densification’, in turn, are crucial for the forma-
tion, development and transformation of religious traditions.
(d) To conclude, we may finally stress one related aspect that emerges
prominently from a significant portion of the material surveyed in this
volume. In some cultures of the ancient Mediterranean, the intensifica-
tion of the role played by purity concepts seems to be closely related not
 introduction 43

only to textual production but rather to a broader cultural shift, which

may be characterized by the fact that the forming and the development
of a religious tradition is predominantly defined by the reference to a
body of texts that functions as a central authority. One may character-
ize this development as a process of ‘textualization’. Furthermore, this
process goes along with another, related process of ‘sacralization’, which
corresponds for its part to the fact that this body of texts is increasingly
assigned a ‘sacred’ status within a given culture. Such a transformational
process can be observed, in particular, in ancient Judaism and in the late
Iranian traditions, although analogous and parallel trends can be identi-
fied in other cultures of late antiquity, be it in Egypt, Greece or Rome.
In the case of ancient Judaism, the ‘textualization’ and ‘sacralization’ of
‘religion’ appears already to have begun in the Achaemenid period (see
C. Frevel, C. Nihan, M. Konkel and B. Rausche) and goes on through the
Hellenistic and Roman periods (see B. Ego, I. Werrett and G. Holtz); in
the case of ancient Iranian religion (more specifically, Zoroastrianism),
it seems to be linked with the Sassanid period specifically (see A. de
Jong). The main feature of this process is the growing importance given
to sacred ‘texts’ in the formation, transformation and adaptation of reli-
gious beliefs and experiences. The ‘textualization’ of religious notions (i.e.,
their encoding in various written works) becomes a central feature for
defining the ‘authoritative’ character of these same notions. Conversely,
as a result of this process, religious beliefs and experiences are no longer
necessarily associated with specific places, but with the performance—be
it at the collective or the individual level—of the various texts in which
these beliefs and experiences are encoded. In the case of ancient Judaism
and of Zoroastrianism, specifically, this general process of ‘textualization’
of the religious experience is intimately linked with the intensification
of the role played by concepts of purity. Because such concepts are no
longer legitimized by reference simply to local customs, but to the sacred
texts of the group, they can also take on a new, more general relevance
for that group.

Bibliography

Angenendt, Arnold. “‘Mit reinen Händen’: Das Motiv der kultischen Reinheit in der abendlän-
dischen Askese”. Pages 297–316 in Herrschaft, Kirche, Kultur: Beiträge zur Geschichte
des Mittelalters: Festschrift für Friedrich Prinz zu seinem 65. Geburtstag. Monographien
zur Geschichte des Mittelalters 37. Edited by G. Jenal. Stuttgart: Hiersemann, 1993.
Assmann, Jan. Tod und Jenseits im Alten Ägypten. Munich: Beck, 2003.
44 christian frevel and christophe nihan

Bahr, P. “Purity”. Pages 1562, in vol. 3 of The Brill Dictionary of Religion. Edited by K. von
Stuckrad, 4 vols. Leiden: Brill 2006.
——. “Reinheit”. Pages 150–52 in vol. 3 of Metzler Lexikon Religion: Gegenwart–Alltag–
Medien. Edited by C. Auffarth, J. Bernard and H. Mohr. 4 vols. Stuttgart: Metzler, 1999.
Bell, Catherine. Ritual Theory, Ritual Practice. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009.
Bendlin, A. “Reinheit, Unreinheit”. Pages 412–16 in vol. 4 of Handbuch religionswissen-
schaftlicher Grundbegriffe. Edited by H. Cancick, B. Gladigow, G. Kehrer and H. G.
Kippenberg. 5 vols. Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1998.
——, et al. “Religion”. Brill’s New Pauly: Antiquity Volumes. Edited by H. Cancik and
H. Schneider. Brill 2011. Cited 15 March 2011. Online: http://www.brillonline.nl/subscriber/
entry?entry=bnp_e1020810.
Bester, Dörte. Körperbilder in den Psalmen: Studien zu Psalm 22 und verwandten Texten.
Forschungen zum Alten Testament 2,24. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2007.
Borgeaud, Philippe. “Le couple sacré/profane: Genèse et fortune d’un concept ‘opératoire’
en histoire des religions”. Revue d’histoire des religions 211 (1994): 387–418.
Cancick-Kirschbaum, Eva. “Reinigung und Vermischung: Eine altorientalische Vorstellung
über die Natur des Menschen (Atramhasis I, 192–245)”. Pages 141–50 in Un/Reinheit:
Konzepte und Praktiken im Kulturvergleich. Edited by A. Malinar. Munich: Fink, 2009.
De Hemmer Gudme, Anne Katrine. “How Should We Read Hebrew Bible Ritual Texts? A
Ritualistic Reading of the Law of the Nazirite (Num 6:1–21)”. Scandinavian Journal of the
Old Testament 23,1 (2009): 64–84.
Douglas, Mary. “The Two Bodies”. Pages 69–87 in Natural Symbols: Explorations in
Cosmology. London: Routledge, 1996.
——. “Pollution”. Pages 47–59, in Implicit Meanings: Essays in Anthropology. London:
Routledge & Keagan Paul, 1975.
——. Purity and Danger: An Analysis of Concepts of Pollution and Taboo. London: Routledge
& Kegan Paul, 1966.
Gabriel, Karl. “Jenseits von Säkularisierung und Wiederkehr der Götter”. Aus Politik und
Zeitgeschichte 52 (2008): 9–15.
——. “(Post-)Moderne Religiosität zwischen Säkularisierung, Individualisierung und
Deprivatisierung”. Pages 109–32 in Religion: Entstehung–Funktion–Wesen. Grenzfragen
28. Edited by H. Waldenfels and K. Gabriel. Munich: Alber, 2003.
——. “Religionssoziologie: Religion zwischen Säkularisierung, Individualisierung und
Deprivatisierung”. Pages 244–54 in Soziologie 2000: Kritische Bestandsaufnahme zu einer
Soziologie für das 21. Jahrhundert. Soziologische Revue Sonderheft 5. Edited by R. Münch,
C. Jauß and C. Stark. Munich: Oldenbourg, 2000.
Gethmann, Carl Friedrich. “Menschsein–Menschbleiben: Zur Grammatik askriptiver
Äußerungsmodi”. Pages 41–58 in Perspektiven der Humanität: Menschsein im Diskurs der
Disziplinen. Der Mensch im Netz der Kulturen 8. Edited by J. Rüsen. Bielefeld: Transcript
Verlag, 2010.
Gilders, William K. Blood Ritual in the Hebrew Bible: Meaning and Power. Baltimore: Johns
Hopkins University Press, 2004.
Graf, Friedrich Wilhelm. Die Wiederkehr der Götter: Religion in der modernen Kultur.
Beck’sche Reihe 1779. Munich: Beck, 2004.
Harrington, Hannah K. “Keeping Outsiders Out: Impurity at Qumran”. Pages 187–203 in
Defining Identities: We, You, and the Other in the Dead Sea Scrolls: Proceedings of the Fifth
Meeting of the IOQS in Groningen. Studies on the Texts of the Desert of Judah 70. Edited
by F. García Martínez and M. Popovic. Leiden: Brill, 2008.
Harris, Marvin. Cultural Materialism: The Struggle for a Science of Culture. 1d ed. New York:
Random House, 1979.
Himmelfarb, Martha. “The Purity Laws of 4QD: Exegesis and Sectarianism”. Pages 155–59
in Things Revealed: Studies in Early Jewish and Christian Literature in Honor of Michael
E. Stone. Supplements to the Journal for Jewish Studies 89. Edited by E. G. Chazon,
D. Satran and R. A. Clements. Leiden: Brill, 2004.
 introduction 45

Houston, Walter. Purity and Monotheism: Clean and Unclean Animals in Biblical Law.
Journal for the Study of the Old Testament: Supplement series 140. Sheffield: Sheffield
Academic Press, 1993.
Jay, Nancy B. Throughout Your Generations Forever: Sacrifice, Religion and Paternity.
Chicago: Chicago University Press, 1992.
Kazen, Thomas. Issues of Impurity in Early Judaism. Coniectanea biblica: New Testament
Series 45. Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2010.
——. Jesus and Purity Halakhah: Was Jesus Indifferent to Impurity? Coniectanea biblica:
New Testament Series 38. Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell, 2002.
Klawans, Jonathan. Purity, Sacrifice, and the Temple: Symbolism and Supersessionism in the
Study of Ancient Judaism. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006.
——. Impurity and Sin in Ancient Judaism. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004.
Krech, Volkhard. Götterdämmerung: Auf der Suche nach Religion. X-Texte. Bielefeld:
Transcript Verlag, 2003.
Kreinath, Jens. “Semiose des Rituals: Eine Kritik ritualtheoretischer Begriffsbildung”.
Ph.D. diss., Universität Heidelberg, 2005. Cited 7 February 2011. Online: http://www.ub
.uni-heidelberg.de/archiv/6570 (8.3.2010). Heidelberg 2006.
——. “Ritual: Theoretical Issues in the Study of Religion”. Revista de Estudos da Religião
4 (2005): 100–107.
Maccoby, Hyam. Ritual and Morality: The Ritual Purity System and its Place in Judaism. 1d
ed. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999.
Maier, B. “Reinheit I: Religionsgeschichtlich”. Pages 473–77 in vol. 28 of Theologische
Realenzyklopaedie. Edited by G. Müller and G. Krause. 36 vols. Berlin: de Gruyter, 1997.
Parker, Robert. Miasma: Purification and Pollution in Early Greek Religion. Oxford: Clarendon
Press, 1983.
Rappaport, Roy A. Ritual and Religion in the Making of Humanity. Cambridge Studies in
Social and Cultural Anthropology 110. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999.
——. “The Obvious Aspects of Ritual”. Pages 173–221 in Ecology, Meaning, and Religion.
Berkeley: North Atlantic Books, 1979.
Robertson, Noel. Religion and Reconciliation in Greek Cities: The Sacred Laws of Selinus and
Cyrene. American Philological Association American Classical Studies 54. New York:
Oxford University Press, 2009.
Sallaberger, W. “Reinheit”. Pages 295–98 in vol. 11 of Reallexikon der Assyriologie und
Vorderasiatischen Archäologie. Edited by M. P. Streck. 16 vols. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2006–
2008.
Schwartz, Baruch J., ed. Perspectives on Purity and Purification in the Bible. Library of
Hebrew Bible Old Testament Studies 474. New York: T & T Clark, 2008.
Smith, William Robertson. The Religion of the Semites. Originally published as Lectures on
the Religion of the Semites: the Fundamental Institutions. London: Black, 1894. Repr., with
a new introduction by R. A. Segal. New Brunswick New Jersey: Transaction Publishers,
2002.
Staal, Frits. “The Meaningless of Ritual”. Numen 26 (1979): 2–22.
Stetton, J. J. “Purification, Overview”. Pages 7503–7510 in vol. 9 of Encyclopedia of Religion.
2d ed. Edited by L. Jones. 16 vols. Detroit: Macmillan Reference, 2005.
Stolz, Fritz. “Dimensions and Transformations of Purification Ideas”. Pages 211–229 in
Transformations of the Inner Self in Ancient Religions. Studies in the history of religions
83. Edited by J. Assmann and G. Stroumsa. Leiden: Brill, 1999.
Tambiah, Stanley J. “Animals Are Good to Think and Good to Prohibit”. Ethnology 8 (1969):
423–59.
Testart, Alain. Des mythes et des croyances—Esquisse d’une théorie générale. Paris: Editions
MSH, 1991.
Turner, Victor Witter. The Ritual Process: Structure and Anti-Structure. The Lewis Henry
Morgan lectures 1966. New York: de Gruyter, 1995.
46 christian frevel and christophe nihan

Varga, Csaba. “Descriptivity, Normativity and Ascriptivity: A Contribution to the

Subsumption/Subordination Debate”. Pages 162–72 in Theoretische Grundlagen der
Rechtspolitik: Ungarisch-Österreichisches Symposium der Internationalen Vereinigung für
Rechts- und Sozialphilosophie 1990. Archiv für Rechts- und Sozialphilosophie Beiheft 54.
Edited by C. Varga, P. Koller and O. Weinberger. Stuttgart: Steiner, 1992.
Werrett, Ian C. Ritual Purity and the Dead Sea Scrolls. Studies on the Texts of the Desert of
Judah 72. Leiden: Brill, 2007.
 PURITY IN ANCIENT MESOPOTAMIA:
THE PALEO-BABYLONIAN AND NEO-ASSYRIAN PERIODS

Michaël Guichard and Lionel Marti

1. Introduction

Writing a synthesis of notions of purity and impurity in the Ancient Near

East proves a thorny endeavor. For reasons inherent to our occidental
culture, studies preoccupied with this topic readily compare the biblical
data with those of the Ancient Near East.1 Yet, although the assyriological
information on this material is plentiful and varied, it is difficult to recon-
cile with the Hebraic documentation, since Mesopotamia has bequeathed
to us neither a systematic ‘discourse on purity’ nor sources that would
allow us to theorize in this field with certainty.
The Mesopotamians have left us nothing theoretical about the man-
ner in which they conceived their world, be it from a political, social,
religious or moral perspective. Thus, we do not possess the codification
of their conception of purity or impurity, nor even a systematic catalog
of cases that would resemble Leviticus’ prescriptions for the Israelites
(the so-called Holiness Legislation). The notion of purity is nonetheless
omnipresent—to the point of obsession—in the texts of rituals, in incan-
tations, in prayers and hymns in Sumerian or in Akkadian, in juridical
documents, etc. It is not only a matter of concern for the priests, but rather
society as a whole that was affected by this topic. The book of Leviticus
‘composed’ by members of the priestly class also included rules addressed
to the entire Israelite community.
We can presume that there existed in Mesopotamia a systematic pre-
sentation of behavioral rules or of moral codes and that it was transmitted
orally. Some regulations appear explicitly in several documents used by
exorcists. It is nevertheless rather difficult to recover a complete system
of thought from these bits and pieces of information, however numerous

1 Since the fundamental study of van der Toorn, Sin and Sanction in Israel and Meso-
potamia, which can be supplemented by van der Toorn, “La pureté rituelle au Proche-
Orient ancient”, 339–356. One can also consult Wilson, “Holiness” and “Purity”; and recently,
Pongratz-Leisten, “Reflections on the Translatability of the Notion of Holiness”, 409–427.
48 michaël guichard and lionel marti

they are, especially since we usually do not know the mechanisms for the
spread of these types of principles in time and space.
Comparison is perhaps not the most reliable way to face this problem,
especially for the more ancient periods, even though it might seem the
most direct approach for more recent times. To our knowledge, the only
author who has identified a general principle that would underlie the
Mesopotamian ‘system’ is van der Toorn. Historians, however, must avoid
being deceived by ‘preconceptions on the Orient’ such as the scope of the
supposed ban on pork in ancient societies.
At the moment there is no in-depth synthesis on ‘purity’ in Mesopotamia.
According to Sallaberger, an analysis of vocabulary indicates that one must
distinguish between the notions of ‘washing’ (in particular in daily life) and
of ‘cultic purification’ or ‘religious purity’, even though the vocabulary is
partially the same.2 It is perhaps less difficult to discuss ‘purification’, the
concrete action, rather than purity, an abstract notion that Mesopotamian
‘authors’ never sought to define. One can easily conclude that everything
that is ‘dirty’ is not necessarily classified as impure in the religious mean-
ing of the term: a worker, on his job site, is not made impure in and of
itself by the dirt he carries in order to construct a building. Neither one
of these two aspects—hygiene and purity, which cannot be separated
entirely—has really been explored in a systematic fashion: the latter one
attracts more attention because it is initially overrepresented due to the
abundance of religious literature that has reached us. The importance of
ritual purity and the diversity of aspects that it takes make the topic vague
and difficult to capture in its entirety. The present essay will tackle the
question of hygiene only fleetingly, even though we are aware that this
domain is part of culture and that it is thus not separable from the idea
of ‘cultic purity’.
Liturgical objects, the people who manipulate them, the human acts,
the places where the rites are executed, everything that is related to the
gods or their cult needs to be kept pure or made such. Even outside the
sanctuary, individuals remain under the surveillance of the gods and
the threat of various divine agents. As such, people must strive to main-
tain a state of purity towards the gods and towards their contemporaries.
The level of requirement for purity varies then according to the categories
of individuals and is a function of places and moments. Criteria evolved
with time: thus, in sumero-akkadian culture, pork became impure and an

2 Sallaberger, “Reinheit”, 295–296.

 purity in ancient mesopotamia 49

object of official abomination only at a late period.3 Numerous interdic-

tions also existed in the profane world, but what was part of everyday life
and ‘normal’ is much more difficult to grasp on the basis of our written
sources.
Indeed, the written sources’ diversity itself is an object of confusion.
The texts at our disposal are varied in kind and show that an analysis
of purity needs to be approached through an extremely large number of
different documents. The epistolary corpus can thus deliver considerable
information on this topic. Besides anecdotes from daily life, we have at
our disposal the correspondence between the scholars surrounding the
king of Assyria and the king himself; naturally, scholarly treatises also
approach this topic from a religious point of view as well as from a daily-
life perspective; finally, the very numerous rituals of sin expiation and
ritual purification are similarly attentive to this theme.
Nevertheless, this multitude of sources does not compensate for the
absence of a treatise on purity. The cases mentioning the notions of purity
and impurity are nearly infinite. They might mention ritual purification,
an essential step before one comes into contact with the divinity; or per-
haps the purification of holy places because they host gods; or yet again
rituals of purification performed for the construction of buildings. The
specialists involved in these processes were very many; it is necessary
to distinguish between those who had to accomplish rituals because of
the practice of their professional activity and those whose mission was
to purify the world from outside aggressions. This distinction allows us to
assume the existence of two levels of impurity in Mesopotamian thought:
the one related to daily life and the other provoked by the transgression
of a taboo or by the action of an exterior agent. In the last case, specific
rituals are performed whose function is multiple, purification being men-
tioned among other types of interventions, since impurity is associated
with notions of transgression of prohibition, of divine wrath, etc. Thus,
such rituals often end with the fact of ‘freeing’ (paṭāru) people from their
sin, in order to absolve them and to purify them.
It is necessary, from the start, to emphasize the wealth of related vocab-
ulary: it creates nuance, perhaps even semantic confusion likely to render
a systematic exposition, or an exposition that would aim to define too
rigid a category, difficult. The Sumerian and Akkadian terminologies do
not coincide perfectly, even though the former are mainly understood

3 Lion and Michel, De la domestication au tabou.

50 michaël guichard and lionel marti

thanks to the latter. The relationship between these two lexical levels,
through which, in the end, the same culture expresses itself, is complex, as
is exemplified by the problem of the interpretation of the Sumerian term
kug, which does not have a real counterpart in Akkadian. One cannot,
however, do without the very rich Sumerian information that remains, in
particular, the privileged witness for the traditional sacerdotal milieu in
the centers of lower Mesopotamia.
The preferred rendering of the sumerogram Kug (=ku3) was Akkadian
ellu(m), even though this latter must originally have had a close rela-
tionship with sikil, whose sign might well also be read as el. Sikil itself
was glossed by either ellu(m) or by ebbu(m). Kug and sikil are generic
Sumerian terms expressing the notion of purity; they can be used as adjec-
tives or as verbs. One must tackle their meaning on the basis of a consid-
erable, diverse and dispersed mass of data. It has been noted that kug very
often retained a literary character, while sikil was used more abundantly
in texts of juridical practice. However, we should certainly refrain from
thinking that kug would consist merely of this dimension; it also carried
an added religious value that was particular to it (a notion of ‘sacred,’ or
even ‘holiness’).
In these Sumerian texts, the periods, the places, the different layers
of society and the various moments of daily life are represented very
unequally. As a whole, all that is related to purity (or impurity) is pre-
sented in a very concrete manner: it may lend a picturesque touch to the
various cases discussed, but the accumulation of details quickly creates
the risk of losing sight of the whole. Nonetheless the few studies of these
terms highlight the fact that a distinction might be made between an
intrinsic state of purity (ellu[m] or sikil), the effect of brightness and/or of
whiteness that calls for the idea of purity (kug, šen, dadag and ebbu[m]),
and the notion of ‘putting in order,’ ‘separation’ (na-de5).4 Thus, we may
contrast the ‘ki-sikil’, ‘a pure place’ that designates the virgo intacta, and
the ‘kug-Inana’, ‘the bright Inana’, famed for her erotic prowess, the latter
representing foremost the morning or evening star;5 in a similar fashion,

4 Sallaberger, “The Sumerian Verb na de5(-g) ‘to clear’”.

5 Vanstiphout, “Sanctus Lugalbanda”, 259–260 argues that, in ku3-dInana, kug represents
a fixed adjective (‘Sainte-Inana’), the Sumerian adjective always being placed after the noun.
Several divinities are also preceded by this epithet. Yet, this phenomenon is more frequent
in particular in anthroponomy, where one finds Ku3-dNingal, Ku3-dNanna, etc. The only
(divinized) human to carry the name is the legendary hero of Uruk Lugalbanda, often des-
ignated as ku3-dLugal-ban3-da, “Saint-Lugalbanda”. Having analyzed this case, Vanstiphout
(“Sanctus Lugalbanda”, 283) shows that kug contains the idea of ‘miraculous power’.
 purity in ancient mesopotamia 51

‘kug’ refers to the brightness of metal, yellow (kug-sig17) being used for
talking about gold and white (ku3-babbar) the preferred term where silver
is concerned.
It is the common association of the two terms ellu(m) and ebbu(m)
or of kug and sikil that creates the idea of ‘absolute purity’. Indeed it has
been recognized for a long time that Mesopotamian languages make up
for the absence of a precise conceptual vocabulary—akin to the one nor-
mally found in a modern European language—by using lexical couples
whose opposition (or complementarity, depending on the case) allows for
a full account of a particular notion.
The vocabulary of purification in Akkadian,6 as also in English and in
French, applies as much to concrete practices of cleaning as to the notion
of purification. One ‘washes oneself’ from one’s sins so as to be purified
from them. The three main Akkadian terms for ‘pure’ are ebbu7 (from
ebēbu), ellu8 (from elēlu) and zakû9 (from zakû). In the first millennium,
the terms built on ebēbu and elēlu are often associated in pairs whose jux-
taposition renders the notion of “pure being”, according to the principle
mentioned above. Yet, the data for the language in its early stages reveal a
fairly marked distinction between these two terms that refer to two puri-
ties with distinct motivations: it is only when they are both realized that
the subject is completely pure/purified.10

6 See for example the somewhat dated study of Seux, “Pur et impur en Mésopotamie”,
452–459.
7 CAD gives the following meanings, CAD E 1b: 1. polished, shining, lustrous, clean,
pure (in a cultic sense), holy, 2. trustworthy, proper.
8 CAD E 102b: 1. clean, pure, 2. holy, sacred, 3. free, noble. Refer also to the comments
of Wilson, “Holiness” and “Purity”, 67–83.
9 CAD Z 23a–b: 1. clear, 2. clean, cleansed, in good order, 3. plain, 4. refined, pure, 5.
free of claims.
10 See Durand, “Assyriologie” (2009–2010, 500), who distinguishes between elēlum, ‘avoir
une pureté de souche, naturelle’, which in political language is used to refer to the ellum,
‘the free man’ (at another level of ‘independence’, ki-sikil ‘pure place’ refers to the ‘virgin’
[virgo intacta]), and ebēbum, ‘établir un degré de pureté, après estimation d’un déchet ou
d’une perte, et accord entre plusieurs participants’. The ebbum (which Durand interprets as
an active participle whose origin is not Akkadian but Amorite; see Documents épistolaires
du palais de Mari, t. 2, 333–334) is thus the one who, in the texts of Mari, acts as an expert
to estimate the quality of a product, or who even serves as referee when a contestation is
foreseen; this is true for the economic domain (translated as ‘member of an elected indus-
trial tribunal’) but also for the political world. The tēbibtum is not the ‘census of the people’
for itself, but the appreciation of the loss it experienced after a series of deaths due to con-
flicts; the term also indicates the method for estimating the time remaining between the
end of a lunar month and the beginning of the next one, in order to calculate the appear-
ance of the new moon: it is at that time that the oracles are taken for the next period.
In contrast, ellum means ‘virgin oil’. One immediately notices the religious implications
52 michaël guichard and lionel marti

Next to these terms, there are many other verbs meaning “purify”. In
addition to the two mentioned earlier, some seem to be specific, such as
qadāšu,11 which appears in the context of rituals of purification accom-
plished by the ‘exorcist’ (w)āšipu, hâbu,12 kapāru.13 In addition, all these
roots are part of the formation of the names for rituals aiming at puri-
fication, such as takpirtu,14 taqdīšu, tazkītu, tēbibtu, tēliltu or šuluhhû.
Compared to this profusion of names for purification, the terms defin-
ing the ‘impure’ are few. A common way of expressing ‘impure’ is la ellu,
namely the negative form ‘not pure’.15 Impurity is also mainly understood
as dirt, notably the terms (w)aršu16 (dirty) and, above all, lu’’û.17 The last
refers to what is ‘defiled’ rather than ‘dirty’. It is found in particular in con-
texts where the defilement is likely to disrupt a ritual activity for which it
is necessary to be pure.
Given issues of space, this article aims to be a first presentation on the
topic, in no way exhaustive, and it will be centered on these two aspects
of purity and impurity. Our approach is assyriological in principle. We
wanted to introduce this topic from the perspective of what is found about
it in cuneiform texts, presenting the manner in which Mesopotamians
themselves apprehended it, so as to reconstruct their notion of purity and
impurity.
In that perspective, we thus intend:

(1) First, to present two different periods very richly documented, namely,
the third dynasty of Ur and the Paleo-Babylonian period that follows
(22nd–17th century), on the one hand, and the Neo-Assyrian period
(9th–6th century), on the other;

to which these two processes (laic in their principle) can give rise, especially in a world
suffused with the religious.
11 CAD Q 46a: 2. quddušu to clean, 3. to make ritually clean, to purify, 4. to consecrate,
dedicate.
12 CAD H 20a: 1. to consecrate, exorcise, purify by fumigation.
13 CAD K 178a: 1. to wipe off, 2. to smear on, 3. kuppuru to wipe off, to clean objects, to
rub, to purify magically.
14 See in particular Wright, The Disposal of Impurity; and Jean, La magie néo-assyrienne
en contexte, 105.
15 See the examples in CAD E 106a.
16 CAD A 309b: dirty, unclean.
17 CAD L 258b: to defile, desecrate, to dirty.
 purity in ancient mesopotamia 53

(2) Second, and as a consequence of this choice, thus to tackle very differ-
ent ‘literary’ genres: i.e., myths, hymns, and incantations for the first
period, divinatory series and exorcism manuals for the second;
(3) Third and last, to study the pure and impure from the perspective of
two complementary angles, the cultic function of purity (rituals and
temple) on the one side, and the treatment of impurity in daily life
and in the Neo-Assyrian imperial court on the other.

Each of the two following sections of this essay makes forays into other
time periods than the ones under scrutiny. This is largely inevitable,
because the recent data coming from libraries contain traditions that are
more ancient and whose originals are missing nowadays, and because
some of the latest states of our texts can only be understood through their
precursors, which are still poorly represented.
In particular, this approach amounts, in a first stage, to presenting
purity and purification according to Sumerian literature, inasmuch as it
is concerned with the domain of the sacred; and, in a second stage, to
presenting the means for identifying and analyzing the impurity of the
individual in the first millennium.

2. Purity and Purification according to Sumerian Literature

(2150–1600)

2.1. The Science of the Sacred

The knowledge of what was and was not considered pure, the manner in
which one purifies something that can and must be pure, were probably
the object of a ‘science’, as is perhaps already expressed in the Sumerian
concept of ku3-zu, whose etymology must be literally “(the one) who
knows what is ‘bright’/’pure’/’sacred’ ”18 and which has taken the general
meaning of ‘scholar’, of ‘very intelligent’, or even of ‘cunning.’19 Thus, the

18 Wilson (“Holiness” and “Purity”, 34, n. 99) disagrees with Falkenstein, who understood
the expression as ‘pure knowledge’ (‘reines Wissen’). We are maintaining Wilson’s idea
while not adhering entirely to the separation of his system, which is too systematic. It is
necessary to remember that, for Wilson, kug does not mean ‘pure’ (see above).
19 This quality applies to divinities like Nanše (Gudea, Cyl. A II, 1; following the trans-
lation of Electronic Text Corpus of Sumerian Literature, 2.1.7, http://etcsl.orinst.ox.ac.uk/
cgi-bin/etcsl.cgi?text=t.2.1.7# (accessed 3/22/2011): “my dream-interpreter, an expert on her
own ”) and Inana (Cohen, Sumerian Hymnology: The Eršemma, n°79, l. 2 and 38); and to
54 michaël guichard and lionel marti

famous prince of the city of Lagaš, Gudea (around 2100), introduced him-
self as someone who “knows the sacred and who knows the ‘things’” (ku3
zu-am3 enim zu-am3; Cyl. B I, 12 and IV, 6).20 Moreover, he is credited in
a sort of formulaic phrase as “knowing what is great (gal)” and practicing
it.21 This parallelism (kug/enim/gal) voluntarily emphasizes a plausible
‘etymological’ meaning of ku3-zu.22
Gudea’s peculiar intelligence is innate to him. It is conceived of as fun-
damentally receptive; maintained in an alert state through divine signals,
he seeks from the gods the knowledge he can only obtain from them.
In the narrative of the construction of the temple Eninnu, the insistence
on Gudea’s scruples when it comes to correctly interpreting a nocturnal
vision, to uncovering the meaning of the intentions of Ninĝirsu, who is
demanding a new temple, leads him to conduct an investigation in his
state among the main gods. Exceptional measures follow and they are
only intended to prepare for the construction of the temple; they con-
sist of putting the land of Lagaš in a ‘state of grace’. They denote Gudea’s
knowledge of a complex ritual that he has brought to a point of perfection
rarely attested later or, at least, which is in this instance presented with
an unrivalled attention to detail (literary intensity). From the beginning
of this very poetic narrative of construction (cylinder A), Gudea’s intelli-
gence and exceptional capacities for action are emphasized and represent
the preliminary condition for the success of such a venture commissioned
by the gods.
The wise and the clever in sumero-akkadian mythology are, however,
most often priests.23 The most noteworthy are the 7 wise men called
Apkallu. The admittedly very late Greek mythographer Berossus recounts
that one of them, Oannes (in other words, U’anna, one of the Apkallu),

the fox in a proverb (SP 2.70; see Alster, Proverbs of Ancient Sumer, 60). ur ni2-bi-še3 ku3-
zu-a lugal-bi-ir sa um?-ra = “A (too) clever dog, by itself, comes to the point of attacking
its master’s sinew” (SP 2.115; see differently Alster, Proverbs of Ancient Sumer, 68). For the
abstract nam-ku3-zu, see SP 1.19: “Good luck strengthens organization and understanding”
(Alster, Proverbs of Ancient Sumer, 10).
20 Thureau-Dangin, Les Cylindres de Goudéa, vol. 8, pl. XXXI and XXXIV; Edzard, Gudea
and His Dynasty, vol. 3/1, 89–90.
21 See Averbeck, “Temple Building among the Sumerians”, 12.
22 Such a concept was not taken over as it was in Akkadian.
23 Concerning Atram-hasīs, he was not a priest according to Sallaberger and Vulliet,
“Priester”, 620b. But the Akkadian poem shows nonetheless that he had a close relation-
ship with the god of wisdom, Enki. In addition, we now know that his Sumerian precursor,
Ziusudra, is defined in an ancient version of the flood as a priest of Enki (tablet MS 3026
of the Schöyen collection).
 purity in ancient mesopotamia 55

came out of the sea to bring the laws to a still-uncultivated humanity.

The seventh of the Apkallu was named Adapa (interpreted in Sumerian
as Utu’abba, ‘born of the Sea’). He was Eridu’s purifier (išippu); he came
from the sea and ascended into the sky. Adapa was instructed in the rites
of the land (uṣurāt māti)24 by the God Ea (=Enki), whose priest he was.
This quality explains why he is someone who is (always) “honest (ebbu),
whose ‘hand’ is pure (ella qāti), a purifier (pāšišu), who watches over the
rites scrupulously (mušte’’û parṣī)”.
The incantations often emphasize this transmission accomplished
directly by the divinity, who can, on a case-by-case basis, provide rem-
edies for crisis situations.

2.2. The Case of the Transmission of Knowledge in the

Sacerdotal Milieu of Ur
The rules of purity applied, determined (at least partially) and maintained
by the “priests”, who have “sublimated” them in narratives such as the
one of Adapa, must have been transmitted orally from father to son and
partially in written form.25 Admittedly, there is probably an immemorial
character to some of these rules received from tradition. Yet, the sacer-
dotal milieu must have been a decisive factor in the preservation of this
heritage, or in its transformation, for over time it also contributed inno-
vations to it or exhumed obsolete practices and forgotten ideas from it.
Of course, we do not know exactly how the priests taught them, nor to
what extent they had a global vision, since purity is the condition itself
of the rite and since purification can also be an isolated rite practiced
several times during one long ritual action. The existence of collections
of written rules, establishing what is pure and impure and assessing the
extent of offences, on the model of the medio-assyrian laws, would not
be inconceivable in itself. Were they practical, disparate and customary
rules, which certainly varied from one place to another and from one time
to another, and of which one did not perceive the specific unity? One part
of the teaching must have consisted of the assimilation, copying and com-
mentary of some of the works with pedagogical value. This can be illus-
trated through a ‘collection of manuscripts’ of the Eridu purifiers (abrig)

24 Izre’el, Adapa, 9.
25 One should note the role of the goddess of writing, Nisaba, in a hymn composed
under the founding king of the Isin dynasty, Išbi-Erra (l. 6): “Nisaba, thou praiseth lustra-
tions’ rituals” (Reisman, “A ‘Royal’ Hymn of Išbi-Erra”).
56 michaël guichard and lionel marti

who came to settle close to the sanctuary of the Moon-god Nanna in Ur

during the 19th century.26 Among the texts of this collection is a sketch in
Akkadian that mocks an ignorant client who thinks he can explain to the
fuller how to clean the clothes that he brought.27 D. Charpin suggested
that the presence of this singular example in a milieu of purifier priests
was not innocent.28 The artisan aškappum, both fuller and laundry worker,
after patiently listening to the absurd discourse of this new client, begins
by swearing, “By Ea, Lord of the washing bucket, he who protects me!”29
Now, Ea (= Enki in Sumerian) is also the god of purification par excellence.
The mention of Ea “lord of the washing bucket” can, in addition, include a
play on images—Ea being the “king of the Abyss” (lugal Abzu)30—as well
as on words—nemsû being glossed in the scholarly lexical list Malku=šarru
(V) by šuluhhû = ‘container or ritual of purification’.31 This little text could
thus be understood by the priests of Eridu as a mocking allegory. They
could identify with the fuller, a character often mentioned in folklore,32
because one of his functions was to clean worn and dirty clothes. The
lesson would be that purification is a matter for specialists, and more sub-
tly, that this knowledge was not within anyone’s reach and, moreover,
could not be reduced to a series of technical manipulations, which were in
any case completely incomprehensible to the client. In addition, several
hymns belonging to the same milieu evoke the purification rites and their
divine origins in terms that are often mythological. This is the case more
particularly in the Hymn to Nanna (so-called Hymn ‘E’),33 which could be
linked to consecration through purifying oil. If what are conventionally
called ritual texts first appear in the time of Ebla, their redaction must
be related to particular and circumstantial needs (which is the case of
the Eštar Ritual of Mari, in the 18th century). Even though we know that
several of the main canonical series go back at least to the time of Ur III,
the composition of ritual texts of reference that were intended for trans-
mission is only known from the end of the second millennium onwards.

26 Charpin, Le Clergé d’Ur, 430–431; Reiner, “At the Fuller’s”, 407–411.

27 See lastly Foster, Before the Muses, 151–152.
28 This interpretation was neither criticized nor adopted by commentators. They have
rather focused on the humoristic dimension or on the literary genre of the writing.
29 Gadd and Kramer, Literary and Religious Texts, vol. 2, pl. CCII = UET 6 414, l. 27:
aš-šum é-a be-el né-em-sí-im ša ú-ba-la-ṭu-[ni].
30 Van Dijk, Cuneiform Texts, 70, 3.
31 CAD N namsû, 245.
32 CAD N namsû, 245.
33 See below.
 purity in ancient mesopotamia 57

The bulk of the examples we possess, such as the ritual of the Mīs pî (‘the
washing of the mouth [of a new divine image]’), which the Babylonian or
Assyrian priests used to make or restore a cult statue, only date from the
first millennium, even though this particular ritual is well attested from
the 3rd millennium onwards. The famous ‘Akītu Ritual’, from Babylon, and
the ‘Uruk Rituals’ date from the Seleucid era and bear witness rather to a
desire for restoring ancient practices.
Among our potential informers, the ones who are most likely to bring
us information about the domain of the pure or about the ‘struggle’ against
impurity are obviously the recognized ancient specialists in purification.
In the period between Ur III and the Old Babylonian era, several sorts
of ‘professionals’ were directly involved: first, there were exorcists, maš-
maš.34 An administrative document from the time of Ur III shows one
of them fulfilling a protection rite for the harvest in Umma.35 In Mari, in
the 18th century, we see that the specialist (mašmašum) can collaborate
with moaners (mārū kalê) in order to purify (ullulum) an infected town.36
Secondly, there were lu2 mu7-mu7 (or a variation, lu2 mu13-mu13). They could
practice expiation or exorcism rites in the sheep barns or in the palace
on behalf of the kings of Ur III.37 These exorcists are not connected to a
particular divinity, even though they usually receive their formulas from
Enki (= Ea) and Asalluhi (identified later with Marduk), as many of the
incantations that have reached us indicate. This relative independence
explains why the maš-maš could become a sort of warlock or sorcerer when
he acted on the side of evil, using magic that was recognized as effective
but was not officially approved by the main gods. It is interesting to note
that in the Enmerkar and Ensuhgirana poem, the same sorcerer (who,
by the way, is a foreigner in Sumer) is opposed to an umma, an ‘elderly
woman’, appointed by the sun-god Utu.38 One learns in the Curse of Agade
(l. 29–30) that the old men received from Inana the sense of correct expres-
sions (ka-enim-ma) and the old women the gift of giving (good) advice.39
This wisdom that was particularly attributed to old women could be used
as a defense of last resort against powerful curses. Yet, we know very little
of this milieu, which is not well represented in written sources despite the

34 The Sumerian verb maš means ‘to purify’.

35 Maeda, “The Agricultural Festivals in Sumer”, 23–24.
36 Durand, Archives épistolaires de Mari, 263.
37 See Sallaberger, “Reinheit”, 632.
38 Vanstiphout, Epics of Sumerian Kings, 23–48.
39 Cooper, The Curse of Agade.
58 michaël guichard and lionel marti

abundance of exorcism literature that has reached us. In the sanctuaries,

a group of priests possessed the secrets of the purification rites. First are
the išib/isib (Akkadian išippum). Because this name is reminiscent of the
Akkadian wāšipum—the common name for ‘exorcist’—or of wašāpum, ‘to
exorcise’, it is probably a loan word from the Semitic. Thus, the išippum
is a sort of purifier who, unlike the wāšipum, is attached to the service of
a divinity and for this reason belongs to the staff of the sanctuary. In the
so-called Ekur temple of Enlil in Nippur, a class of purifiers, the saĝĝa2
(= Akkadian mullilum, ‘the ones who purify’), was entrusted especially
with the perfume fumigations that were so important in the cult.
The homes of some of the priestly families were found with their
archives. Close to the Eana at Uruk (the big sanctuary of Inana), the
remains of a collection of archives that belonged to some išippum have
been exhumed from a pit (Sherbenloch). The lot is unfortunately very
fragmentary: it includes examples of ritual texts but, in its composition, it
is strongly reminiscent of the collection of tablets from a family of purifier
priests, abriqqum, living in Ur at about the same time.40 In Ur, indeed, a
house close to the temple of the Ekišnuĝal contained the juridical archives
and an informative ‘literary collection’ of a sacerdotal family that handed
down its functions and its knowledge from generation to generation. The
inhabitants of this house in Ur were abrig-priests (= Akkadian abriqqum),
a type of purifiers, then, related to the cult of Enki.41 They were from
Eridu, the town of Enki, which they were forced to abandon at the very
beginning of the second millennium because of the desertification of the
place.
The activity of this family was carefully analyzed by Charpin,42 who
demonstrated that there was a relationship between these documents and
the acts and ‘liturgical thought’ of their owners, as we have seen previously
with the tale of the fuller. The juridical archives permit us to understand
in particular their neighborly relationships, which reveal that there was a
strong concentration of ‘priests’ working in the nearby Ekišnuĝal. These
dwellers were living on a mound (called ‘neighborhood EM’) right across
from the sanctuary. The children of this abrig house pursued their scribal
education at least partly inside their own house. One sees that, beside
the elementary training (lexical lists, proverbs, excerpts of the classic

40 Cavigneaux, Uruk. Altbabylonisch Texte aus dem Planquadrat PE XVI-4/5.

41 See Charpin, Le Clergé d’Ur, 51.
42 Ibid.
 purity in ancient mesopotamia 59

hymn (Hymn B) to Lipit-Eštar),43 this education included copying histori-

cal texts—from the eras of Agade, of the third dynasty of Ur, and of the
kings of Isin (a town that had exerted a great cultural influence after
the fall of Ur III)—and traditional texts, like the Exaltation of Inana and
the Almanac of the Farmer. The presence of such literary texts does not
teach us anything specific about the abriqqum priests, since these were
the classics in the curriculum of the scribes’ apprentices in the so-called
Old Babylonian period. Next to this category, Charpin has highlighted the
existence of compositions that were particular to members of the family,
such as hymns dedicated to the king of Larsa and Ur, Rīm-Sîn (1822–1794),
composed for special occasions, and remarkable and original hymns to
the gods. The fact that scholars do not possess duplicates of these works
from other sources, and even their grammatical specificities alone, allow
speculation that their authors were really the purifier priests who lived in
the house where the archaeologists exhumed the documents. Yet, even if
this was not the case, if they were only copies, there is little doubt that,
according to their content and on the basis of their characteristics, they
‘say’ important things about the manner of thinking in the milieu made
up of the purifier priests of southern Sumer in the 18th century.
The selection that tradition preserves within these works can some-
times be noteworthy. But one needs to observe that the distinction
between the two groups of texts, one group of traditional texts and one
of ‘circumstantial compositions,’ is not entirely clear-cut. On the one side,
we see that the text of the works of reference is not strictly fixed or set;
important variations are found from one copy to another. The cause for
such differences has not been identified with certainty. The texts in fact
remain quite malleable and some scribes (the masters?) do not hesitate to
modify them, adding, or even cutting out, verses or ‘entire strophes’. On
the other side, we do not know why the texts of the second group came
into being (even though we can come up with hypotheses on the basis
of their content) or, at the very least, why they were deemed worthy of
being kept in the priests’ dwellings themselves. It might be possible that
they were used (at least secondarily) in a pedagogic manner adapted to
the specific needs of the future abriqqum.

43 Only one example of each category was found in the house (7, Quiet Street), which
only provides a sample of the material that was used as a foundation for learning the writ-
ten language in this place.
60 michaël guichard and lionel marti

2.3. Dilmun, the Pure Land: The Positive Story

The case of the mythological poem Enki and Ninḫursaĝa illustrates this
point well.44 It is known today through three manuscripts. The first one
comes from Nippur, the second one from the house of the abriqqum in Ur
(7, Quiet Street), and the third one, kept at the Louvre, is of unidentified
origin. One can thus say that this text is not widely disseminated; yet its
simultaneous presence in Nippur and in Ur leads to the assumption that,
for a while, it was a ‘pedagogical’ tool in classical teaching, even if it was
in fashion only momentarily. In addition, Enki and Ninḫursaĝa does not
appear in the catalogues of incipits at our disposal.
The Ur version is not preserved in its entirety, but it includes a sizeable
addition that mentions the town of Ur. Although it does not play any part
in the myth properly speaking, this addition means that the version was
interpolated by an inhabitant of Ur, proud of his town. One ought to see
it as a contribution of the occupants of the house at 7, Quiet Street. Their
interest in this text, which features Enki, is even more obvious since they
were themselves servants of this god.
The copy of the tablet carries a date: 24/XI/year 21 of Rīm-Sîn (1803).45
Now, in the preceding year, Rīm-Sîn, king of Larsa, who ruled over Ur,
annexed Uruk, an event that inaugurated a phase of political expansion
that lasted several years (to the detriment of the rival dynasty of Sîn-
kāšid).46 The first decades of Rīm-Sîn have been described as “the glorious
30”47 because they were characterized by a phase of economic prosper-
ity visible in particular in the capital town of Larsa. In its way, then, the
Enki and Ninḫursaĝa poem commemorates this period. Even if it is not an
original composition, the important addition of the Ur version exempli-
fies an optimistic reading of history. Indeed, the first part of the myth is
devoted to the development of Dilmun (the present island of Bahrain),
which became a prosperous economic center thanks to Enki. The scribe
of the Ur version has added a list of countries close and far that exported
their goods to Dilmun. The list concludes with a mention of the town
of Ur (UET 6 1: col. II 16–18): “The sanctuary of Ur, throne of the royalty,

44 Gadd and Kramer, Literary and Religious, vol. 1, pl. I–III; Attinger, “Enki and
Ninḫursag̃a”.
45 Notice that this date is not taken into account by Brisch, Tradition and the Poetics of
Innovation, 14. On the dating of school tablets, see Glassner, “Ecrire des livres”, 9.
46 See Charpin, “Histoire politique”, 120–121.
47 Ibid., 119.
 purity in ancient mesopotamia 61

[(holy)?] town, sends you by freight grain, oil, and delicate clothes, beauti-
ful clothes.”
The fact that the scribe represents Ur by means of its sanctuary (the
Ekišnuĝal) reveals his social situation. The poem shows an Enki who
inundates marshes with his sperm, thus creating abundance. Here, it is
tempting to relate this to one of Rīm-Sîn’s undertakings during this same
year—year 21, when he took Uruk—which he commemorated the next
year in the name of the year 22:48
The year when, on An, Enlil and Enki’s beneficent order, the just shepherd
Rīm-Sîn (re)dug a canal that had not been mentioned for a long time,49
named it ‘pure canal’ and (thus) added large (additional) territories to the
riverside towns.
The copy could be from the hand of Ku-Ningal, the head of the family (who
died 13 years later).50 Whether or not this ‘edition’ of Enki and Ninḫursaĝa
was realized for a scholastic purpose, it was in any case related to a spe-
cific celebration, held in Ur, which corresponded to current affairs or at
least was inspired by them.51
What was the importance of this myth of Enki and Ninḫursaĝa,52 of
which a version was found in their house, for this family of Ur priests,
abriqqum, a class of purifiers?53 The text describes the origins of the island
of Dilmun through a series of terms that all revolve around the idea of
purity. The first and most important one, endlessly repeated, is kug, which
qualifies the land of Sumer and, more particularly, Dilmun, which is at
the center of the first part of the narrative. “The land of Dilmun”, says the
poem insistently, “is/was kug”; then it indicates, depending on the ver-
sion, that it was/is sikil or šen and dadag. These last expressions are thus
used as quasi-synonyms of kug, since they are interchangeable. Yet, each
term brings a particular nuance that is difficult for us to capture precisely.
The pattern kug/sikil/dadag is found elsewhere, in the hymn to Nanna
(E) discovered in the same house. This pattern might entail a gradation

48 Sigrist, Larsa Year Names, 50.

49 Or: “that had never received a name since the origins”.
50 Charpin, Le Clergé d’Ur, 69.
51 Concerning the danger of reducing literary texts to historical events, see nonetheless
Brisch, Tradition and the Poetics of Innovation, 15.
52 Attinger, “Enki et Ninḫursag̃”, 1–52.
53 See Charpin, Le Clergé d’Ur, 51.
62 michaël guichard and lionel marti

towards the more ‘intense’.54 We can also mention as an example the fol-
lowing excerpt from a hymn to the god Ḫendursaĝa (l. 18): “(Against?)
the straight dock, (there is) the holy (kug) boat, completely immaculate
(sikil) and dazzling white (dadag).”55 This enumeration was reproduced
in many other compositions56 (it is common in incantations), as the later
bilingual series Šurpu VII 8157 shows: “May Man, son of his God, be pure
(or purified), clean, cleared!”
Kug and šen have in common a (primary or secondary?) relationship
with metal. Kug can indeed have the meaning of ‘precious metal’,58 as
in the name ku3-dim2 (‘the one-who-shapes-precious-metal’), ‘gold-
smith’; very often it simply means ‘silver’. Thus this term was related to
the notion of purity in reference either to metalwork or to metal’s luster
when it came directly out of the metalworker’s workshop. Šen,59 which
has ruqqum (urudušen) as its common Akkadian equivalent (in addition to
ebbum in our context), certainly brings to mind the image of a leveled sur-
face, stretched to its limit (RQQ) through beating; hence the idea perhaps
of an ‘equal and smooth surface’ for describing the original landscape of
Dilmun.60 However, it is necessary to note that the primitive ideogram
depicts a vase containing water and that, in the Sumerian literature which
interests us, the term can also have the meaning ‘(metal) bowl’. As it hap-
pens, this receptacle plays a role in ritual washing (see below).

54 Attinger, “Enki et Ninḫursag̃”, 33. The comparison between the versions of Nippur
and Ur complicates things because of variants. See Pongratz-Leisten, “Notion of Holiness”,
424.
55 Edzard and Wilcke, “Die Ḫendursanga-Hymne”, 144–145 (composite version): kar-si-
sa2 gišma2-gur8-ku3 sikil-am3 dadag-ga-am3. The text was reedited by Attinger and Krebernik,
“L’Hymne à Ḫendursag̃a”.
56 It was, so to speak, traditional, as an Old Babylonian lexical text copied by a stu-
dent on a lenticular tablet shows: (. . .) a-na-de₅, a-gub₂-ba, a-ku₃-ga, a-šen-na, a-dadag-ga =
“magic water, blessed water, pure water, clean water, limpid water”; Civil, “The Forerun-
ners of Marû and Ḫamṭu”, 64.
57 Reiner, Šurpu, 38: lu2-ux-lu dumu-diĝir-ra-na ḫe2-en-ku3-ga ḫe2-en-sikil ḫe2-en-dadag:
a-me-lu DUMU-DINGIR-šú li-lil li-bi-ib li-im-mir.
58 ‘Métal brillant’ (‘shiny metal’) according to Cavigneaux, Dictionnaire de l’Antiquité,
1841.
59 ‘Métal poli?’ (‘polished metal?’) for Cavigneaux, Dictionnaire de l’Antiquité, 1841.
60 The archaic sign represents a vase, in which the sign A ‘water’ is inserted. See
Salonen, Die Hausgeräte der alten Mesopotamier, 36; and Krebernik, “Die Texte aus Fāra
und Tell Abū Ṣalābīh”, 279; Steinkeller, “Studies in the Third Millennium Paleography, 2.
Signs šen and alal”, 243; and Steinkeller, “Studies in Third Millenium Paleography, 2. Signs
šen and alal: Addendum”, 39, adds that šen “marked a class of metal containers or recep-
tacles, usually made of copper (. . .)”.
 purity in ancient mesopotamia 63

Sikil means pure in the sense of ‘virgin’, ‘untouched’, namely the inter-
nal, primeval and perfect state of a thing (the sign sikil can be read EL: it
is thus linked very early to the Akkadian ellum). Dadag (UD.UD)61 means
‘luminous’, ‘clear’, perhaps ‘limpid’: one talks of a “ ‘pure’ stream of water”;62
we read:
It is a pure canal, of which the stream is transparent (dadag-ga-am3).
Might it (always) provide (the goddess) Nanše with flowing water.63
The description evokes something that gives out a sort of light because of
the fullness of its nature: “The sperm of your lord, the white-pure sperm
is in me, the sperm of Sîn, the white-pure sperm is in me.”64 We can even
mention the sequence perhaps opening an incantation:65 “Holy oil, virgin
oil, gleaming oil.”66 These notions were closely related, tending to merge;
together, they suggest the primeval, physical and absolute purity of sacred
things.

2.4. Dilmun, the Pure Land: The Negative Story

Having described the land of Dilmun in a positive manner, the poem Enki
and Ninhursaĝa continues by offering a series of negative, picturesque
descriptions, a common stylistic feature in creation narratives:
In Dilmun, the crow did not make a sound.
The francolin did not make (its) ‘dar-dar’.
The mastiff was not cutting throats.
The wolf was not carrying the lamb away.
Unknown was the pedigree dog who makes the little flock obedient.
Unknown were the pigs always devouring grain.
Once the widow had spread malt on the roof,
The birds that came from the sky were certainly not yet pecking at her
malt.

61 One can also read zalag-zalag. It is practically impossible to decide which one is
the right reading, or to establish a semantic distinction. However, see Pongratz-Leisten,
“Notion of Holiness”.
62 i7-dadag; see Behrens, Enlil und Ninlil, 64.
63 Inscription of the prince of Lagaš, URU-KA-gi-na; Frayne, Presargonic Period
(2700–2350 bc), 265 (= RIME 1.9.9.1: xii, 41–44).
64 Myth of Enlil and Ninlil: 83–84; Behrens, Enlil und Ninlil, 34.
65 Text found on the side of the tablet; see Gadd and Kramer, Literary and Religious
Texts, vol. 1, pl. LXXIII, (UET 6 67).
66 i3-kug, i3-sikil, i₃-dadag-ge. Several commentators think it is the incipit of an incanta-
tion. Compare, e.g., the note following the translation of this passage in the Electronic Text
Corpus of Sumerian Literature, 4.13.05 (see above note 19).
64 michaël guichard and lionel marti

The doves’ heads were not nodding next to her.

The one sick in his eyes was not saying: “I am sick.”
The one sick in his head was not saying: “I am sick.”
These old women saying “how old I am!”, they did not exist.
These old men saying “how old I am!”, they did not exist.
There was no young woman who threw the unclean water of her bath in
the city (?).67
There was no man who ‘said’ as he went across the river: “MI.NE!”68
As for the herald, he was not going around his district.
There was no singer who was starting to sing his lament.
At the edges of town, neither was he singing his lamentation.
As has often been noticed, purity is more easily defined by what is con-
trary to it. Here, the work uses several images from daily life, starting with
the animal world (wild and domestic) and human society (its dependence
towards the natural order: sickness, old age; and what comes under cul-
ture: bodily care, trades, singing—the supreme art in Sumer).69 However,
the choice of metaphors still remains enigmatic if one does not notice
their obviously negative character: noise (from birds whose cry is not
particularly pleasant, the moans of the sick and the old, the town crier
[famous for announcing bad news, such as war mobilization, the loss of a
seal by its owner or the convocation for duty], the moaners who sing sad
songs), death, and what is harmful in general (in the animal world, prey
are eaten by predators, human beings themselves face harmful animals,70

67 Or “her water (that had become) unfit for ablutions”? Attinger, “Notes de lectures:
Enki et Ninḫursag̃a”, offers the translation “No young woman was bathing, none who
poured the (waste) waters in the city”. Katz, “The Story of Dilmun”, 576, proposed a differ-
ent translation: “An unwashed maiden was not (yet) treated with disrespect in the city”.
The verb sig3 should no longer be understood in this context as nadû ‘to throw’ but as dâṣu
‘to treat with disrespect’. According to CAD D dâṣu, 118–119, on the basis of the Sumerian
equivalents, means ‘to lie’ and (secondarily) ‘to treat unjustly’, ‘not to respect the law’,
which is hardly appropriate for the context of Enki and Ninḫursaĝa.
68 Unfortunately, this expression has not yet been deciphered. See Attinger, “Notes de
lectures: Enki et Ninḫursağa”.
69 See Attinger, “Enki et Ninḫursag̃a”, 34.
70 The case of the pig is harder to determine; the context does not show that this ani-
mal is ‘evil’ in and of itself, since we know it was reared in Sumer—and our passage seems
to refer rather to the domestic pig—but the problem has to do with the consumption of
the grain. That being said, fattening pigs with grain is a well-documented practice. Rather
than saying that grain is not the regular feed for pigs, the poem refers to the damage done
by pigs (roaming freely) among the fields. The voracity of the pig is indeed proverbial.
See Foster and Salgues, “Pig in Early Mesopotamia”, 288. However, one should not simply
dismiss the idea that the poem might be talking about wild pigs (common in marshy
areas). Neither the vocabulary nor the animal classifications left to us by the ancients
establish real distinctions. Thus, what is at stake would be the havoc that is wrought on
grain fields by harmful animals, such as the wild boar, whose destruction was still com-
 purity in ancient mesopotamia 65

illness and old age; the poem likely has in mind the periodic impurity
of young women, daily or political misfortunes, the role of moaners who
appease the wrath of the gods, etc.). Thus the poem opposes what is pure/
sacred (the Dilmun of origins) to what is profane, partially related to the
idea of impurity (illness, the wastewaters of the young woman who took
her bath, noise, etc.).
The perfect state of purity is not, however, represented by an ‘absolute
emptiness’, since a ‘town’ preexists. It is nonetheless without life, because
it is missing a source of running water. Thus Dilmun’s purity is presented
in a way that appears ambivalent to us. Dilmun is excessively pure and
holy, and because of that, it is lacking the life needed by the new divine
dwellers Enki and especially Nin-sikila, who received the island as a gift.71
Since we probably owe this version to one of the members of the abri-
qqum family at 7, Quiet Street, it must contain a fundamental teaching for
priests who specialized in purification: the relationship between the two
descriptions of Dilmun allows a glimpse of the fact that the pure world
of the gods must coexist with human life, which is synonymous with
movement, transformation, restlessness, suffering and death. It probably
emphasized the fact that creation was perfect and rested in a complex
and dynamic balance. It seems that the violence present in nature had
to be contained but could not be suppressed completely. Such an under-
standing assumes that the state of nature could not be the seat of purity
for the inhabitants of Sumer.

2.5. The Sanctuarization of Lagaš

This conception is ancient and also expressed, albeit in a different man-
ner, in the literary work that we owe to the prince of Lagaš, Gudea (see
Cyl. A, which is be completed by the short version of the inscription
of statue B).72 In order to accomplish his project of reconstructing the
temple of the Eninnu, the whole city was returned to exceptional purity
conditions. Two things in particular were at stake: on the one side, it

mon until recent times in the south of Iraq. The following trope, which has to do with the
preparation of malt, and the damages inflicted by the birds that come to peck it, follows
the same logic.
71 In contrast to the impression left by the text, this ‘first’ island of Dilmun is not all
idyllic; even the gods cannot enjoy themselves there!
72 Edzard, Gudea and His Dynasty, 30–38. For a synthetic presentation of the sequence
of the rituals of foundation and dedication of the temple, see Averbeck, “Temple building
among the Sumerians”.
66 michaël guichard and lionel marti

was necessary to make each action and each step of the construction
absolutely perfect; on the other side, the city and its inhabitants needed
protection from the numerous potential dangers created by construction
work in the area of the temple and by this situation of transition between
‘old’ and ‘new temple’. But Gudea’s attention was mainly focused on the
divine landlord, Ninĝirsu, who was or might have become irritated. The
deterioration, even temporary, of the architectural and divine structure
of the god’s house, the presence of which not only protected the city but
also represented its center, was cause for fear. Finally, it was necessary
above all to reproduce the primordial and primeval act of construction of
the temple, since from the beginning, even before human beings existed,
sanctuaries had often been erected by the gods themselves.
Among the various measures mentioned by ‘Gudea’, there are well-
known purification rites, such as the one performed with a torch or
some other form of perfumed fumigation, as well as those accomplished
through anointing with oil or special creams. Yet, the most striking mea-
sure must have been Gudea’s desire that all forms of violence disappear
from his state, be it in the public sphere, for example through the use
of the whip or the incarceration of condemned persons in prison, in the
domestic world, namely against slaves, and in more harmless ways such as
in the disciplining of children. Death was proscribed from the land, which
shows that, during the construction work, the entire city of Girsu had the
sacrosanct character of a sanctuary.
Nature was not neglected. Admittedly, Gudea had no power over it, but
he pretended that a sort of state of grace had touched it as well (Cyl. B IV,
17–20). A spell had taken care of sickness and predators:73
In the town, the mother of a man who got sick (always) prepared the (right)
potion. The herds of all the animals of the steppe were lying together, (since)
the lion, the panther as well as the reptile of the steppe were in a (gentle)
deep sleep.

2.6. Enki, Master of Purity According to the Hymn to Nanna (E)

The archive documents found in the house of Ku-Ningal do not allow for
the recreation of daily religious activities of the abriqqum. However, sev-
eral compositions found in the house, all of which likely date to the time

73 This passage applies more exactly to the inauguration phase of the temple, but one
can conclude that it also holds true for the entire preceding phase of the construction.
 purity in ancient mesopotamia 67

of Rīm-Sîn, recount in a more or less veiled manner the understanding of

purity characteristic of this group at the sanctuary where they were offici-
ating. The hymn to Nanna (Hymn E) is the most revealing.
The poem is dedicated to the glory of Nanna, the Moon-god; it first
recalls his birth, namely his first appearance as a crescent moon. After hav-
ing received universal sovereignty as his fate, he is put up in the Ekišnuĝal,
which had appeared beforehand on its own. On this occasion, a banquet
is organized to which the other gods are invited. Enki specifically takes
on the responsibility of providing the banquet’s ritual purity. His role as
purifier of the oven and of the meal is then praised. Then Nanna, after tak-
ing a recuperative bath, puts on his royal and priestly insignia as a novice
(su-bar). The purification rites of the hand are handled by Enki’s helpers,
that is to say, Ningublaga and Kusu. The hymn closes with a final exalta-
tion of Nanna, with which his consort Ningal is associated.
The active figure who seems to play the decisive role is indeed Enki,
who lives in Eridu and is also invoked under the name ‘Deer-of-the-Apsû’.
He acts as supreme purifier, but only operates from his sanctuary of Eridu,
which is also mythically confused with the sacred ocean (ABxA-kug),
whence Nanna himself comes. It is Enki who provides the Ekišnuĝal with
water before Nanna is set up:
According to the destiny fixed for your flowing water, the water from below,
enormous (stream), Enki, from the depth of the sacred Ocean, established
under your feet a good earth, (like) a good mother.74
One recognizes here the theme of the vital water that also renders Dilmun
alive and that was missing at the origins. To the future sanctuary, spring
water provides fertility, or what creates the conditions for the earth to be
favorable to life and to the cult.75 In Enki and Ninḫursaĝa, this rising of
fresh water is created by Utu, the Sun-god, on behalf of Nin-sikila:76

74 Charpin understands the beginning of the passage very differently: “mais pour que
tu puisses quitter majestueusement l’onde inférieure” (a-ra2-a-sig-maḫ-zu-še3): Enki puts
down the ground on which Nanna, on the brink of emerging, will establish himself. How-
ever, we follow the reading from Electronic Text Corpus of Sumerian Literature, 4.13.05 (see
above note 19): “Determining a destiny for your flowing waters, the majestic lower (?)
waters . . .”.
75 See the above quoted excerpt of Frayne, Presargonic Period (2700–2350 bc) (= RIME
1.9.9.1).
76 For the many difficulties strewn throughout this text, see Attinger, “Notes de lec-
tures: Enki et Ninḫursağa”.
68 michaël guichard and lionel marti

Utu, who stands in the sky made ground come up for her—out of the
bowl-kiru-erected (?) opposite Ezen, from the shining temple-ŠE.SUḪUR of
Nanna, out of the mouth from where the water of the earth flows—fresh
water. Henceforth, the water was flowing in the big basin?-ĝirman and his
town was drinking from it an abundant water, so that his wells of brackish
water became wells of fresh water; his fields, his prairies and furrows were
supplying it with grain.
In the hymn to Nanna (E), it is then written (l. 27–31):
Enki purifies the seat for you (Nanna!) and for you makes the residence
sparkling clean;
He consecrates the sky for you and makes the earth shine brightly for you.
For you, he made the Ekišnuĝal, forest of cedars, reach the sky.
Your proud seat, he makes it (be) a sacred place for you, foundation of
everything that belongs to the sky and to the earth.
He accomplishes the rites and sublime lustrations with rectitude for you.
Enki creates and preserves not only the sacral integrity of the temple and
of Nanna’s throne but also, in a more general manner, the purity of the
ground and of the atmosphere. Thus, it is understandable that he would
make sure that the rites he himself leads are accomplished in the correct
sequence. However, since he does not travel, he delegates his powers to
several divinities of secondary rank: “Enki, (he who has made) makes his
Apsû rise,77 puts lustration (šu-luḫ) at your disposal, Kusu brought (this)
same lustration to the temple, born from itself (Ekišnuĝal).”
The ways that Enki finds to intervene are commonplace in regard to
exorcist literature. Very often, Enki (or Ea in Akkadian texts) is the ori-
gin of magical remedies; but he prefers to transmit his knowledge to his
son Asalluhi or to the exorcists. This attitude is recalled in the hymn to
Haya:78 “Enki offered you his life-inducing incantations from the princely
sanctuary of Apsû.” The ritual might in fact be concretely accomplished
by the goddess Kusu or other agents, yet the hymn reminds us that Enki is
indeed the rightful agent: “Kusu, who purifies the hands and makes them
bright, consecrates her hands. (But it is) the ‘Deer-of-the-Apsû’ who, from
the Eridu, purifies their hands through the anointing.”
Kusu appears as the go-between who commutes between Eridu and Ur.
This goddess, to whom Enki delegated his functions as purifier, is interest-
ing because she embodies Enki, a rich and complex character, precisely

77 The passage is understood in various ways. Our interpretation is supported by the

parallelism of the next verse, which clearly suggests the passive role of Nanna.
78 Gadd and Kramer, Literary and Religious Texts, vol. 1, pl. CIII–CIV = UET 6, 101, l. 38,
also found at 7, Quiet Street, and thus in the same archive as the Hymn (E) to Nanna.
 purity in ancient mesopotamia 69

in his specialty as master of purity. Her name, dKu3-su3, means literally

‘the one who bestows the pure/sacred’. Yet, her participation in the cult
happens in particular at the time of the sacrifice, as the following passage
indicates in a somewhat clumsy style (l. 40–41):
Outside of the Depth-of-the-Ocean,79 (there are) ovens,80 oxen, sheep and
breads; outside of the chapel (happens) the saint lustration: (as) it will purify
them for the temple through the oil anointing, they wait and their fore and
hind legs have been tied.
This role is also mentioned in a hymn of Nippur:81 “[. . .] Kusu, conse-
crated [the oven (?)], purified the oven. She filled it? with [. . .], having (thus)
consecrated it, Kusu did, in truth, let innumerable oxen and innumerable
sheep into the big oven!” Fumigation by means of a censer is her most typi-
cal modus operandi82 but not the only one.

2.7. The Apsû, Place of Origins for Purification Rites

The sacrifice of animals usually took place in the main court of the temple,
as this bilingual text (Nin-Isina’s Journey to Nippur) indicates:83 “In the
Ekur-zagin,84 the temple of Enlil in Nippur, she? (the goddess Nin-Isina)
had the food offerings served. / In the main court, the court of Enlil, she?
[slaughtered] oxen and sheep.”
But the preliminary purification of the animals was dependent on this
place also called Apsû, which was located in a certain spot in the sanc-
tuary.85 It is described poetically in a royal prayer,86 where it appears at
the same time as the foundation or underground structure of the temple,

79 The Depth-of-the-Ocean refers, as we have seen, to the Apsû, where Enki rules. Here,
however, it must rather mean a specific place in the Ekišnuĝal. This place is also defined as
eš3, ‘sanctuary’ or even ‘chapel’. On the symbolic level, however, there is no difference.
80 One perhaps needs to understand ‘<toward> the oven’, but the ovens themselves
were the objects of purification rites.
81 Hymn to Kusu (= YBC 9860), edited by Michalowski, “The Torch and the Censer”,
154. And see additionally Electronic Text Corpus of Sumerian Literature, 4.33.2 (see above
note 19).
82 Michalowski, “The Torch and the Censer”, 158; and Sallaberger and Vulliet, “Priester”,
631b.
83 Wagensonner, “Nin-isina(k)’s journey”, 277–293, and particularly 282.
84 In other words, the ‘blue Ekur’ or the ‘pure Ekur’, Enlil’s temple in Nippur.
85 Wilson (“Holiness” and “Purity”, 8) places it in the Ur sanctuary, to the southeast of
the terrace of the ziggurat. He argues from Woolley’s discovery in this area of a cistern
divided into 4 compartments.
86 Gadd and Kramer, Literary and Religious Texts, vol. 1, pl. CXI–CCII = UET 6 105. The
description of the Apsû is inserted in a prayer to Rīm-Sîn. It is even more the case in Nanna
E where, on the pretext of honoring Nanna, the role of Enki is particularly emphasized; the
feeling is that the central topic of the hymn is not the king as much as the sanctuary. This
document was also found at 7, Quiet Street.
70 michaël guichard and lionel marti

the innermost sacred part of the temple (an allusion to groundwater?),

the shadow of the temple (representing the height of its walls and/or the
magical protection it offers, depending on the semantic understanding
of ‘shadow’), its big corner (ub-gal), a sweet-smelling forest and, finally, a
pond (ambar). This place is not related solely to the character of Enki; Utu,
the sun, is associated with it as well, since a solar emblem is represented
on the door of the chapel in the Ekišnuĝal. The collaboration between
Enki and Utu was also discussed in Enki and Ninḫursaĝa. This reminds us
that Utu, god of justice, also played a part in the area of purification.
A characteristic element of the chapel of the Apsû is the presence
of a pool or waterhole.87 This idea is strengthened by the recognized
link between this place and the recipients of ‘holy’ water from the Old
Babylonian era:88
(In) the chapel of Apsû, the vase of holy water for the (ritual) bath,
and the sacred dock have been prepared perfectly;
Enki, the king of Eridu,
purified the dock (for) the (ritual) bath.
However, the hymn to Nanna (E) insists much more on the use of a purify-
ing oil, of which it is simply indicated that it belonged to the stores of the
temple. A preliminary passage through the Apsû is nonetheless possible.
The bank of a canal could in fact be used in an improvised manner as
the dock of the Apsû.89 It is true that the chapel of the Apsû has its own
power, which has a beneficial effect on the sanctuary as a whole. This
structure on its own does indeed generate both a shadow and an aura,
true magical protections.90 Now that same document mentions the pres-
ence of a herd close to the Apsû, which recalls the animals being watched
in the main court for purification:
Next to the pond of the Apsû of the Ekišnuĝal,
In the holy sanctuary where the cows roam
[The shepherds (?) in charge of] the innumerable and pure blue calves take
their parts of presents;
[. . .] and their little ones.
They are staying in the [. . .] holy.

87 Wilson, “Holiness” and “Purity”, 12.

88 See van Dijk, “Un rituel de purification des armes et de l’armée”, 111.
89 See the incantation/ritual quoted above; van Dijk, “Un rituel de purification des
armes et de l’armée”, 108.
90 According to Gadd and Kramer, Literary and Religious Texts, vol. 1, pl. CXI–CCII =
UET 6 105.
 purity in ancient mesopotamia 71

2.8. The Purification Rites (šu-luḫ)

The lustration ritual is covered under the generic term ‘cleaning of hand’,
šu-luḫ (found in Akkadian under the form šuluhhû), which most of the
time needs to be translated by ‘lustration’. Additionally, in the hymn to
Nanna (E), when purification of the hands is discussed, the expression used
is šu kug/sikil and not šu luḫ. The verb luḫ (in Akkadian, mesû) is gener-
ally limited to the domain of the profane, or at least it does not have that
cultic undertone belonging to terms such as sikil, šen or dadag.91 Notice
that šu, in some religious texts, could designate a (metal) cultic object, a
recipient or an aspergillum, as has been proposed, so that the expression
can be understood in the following manner: ‘to wash using the “liturgical
object”-šu (?)’. However, as Falkenstein remarked,92 šu-luḫ does not nec-
essarily have a religious connotation, since in Ur III the expression is used
to describe the scouring of a canal, although rites might have been associ-
ated with it. The need to emphasize the religious use probably explains
the frequent addition after šu-luḫ of the adjective ‘kug/ku3-ga’ to describe
‘holy lustration(s)’ or possibly ‘a lustration/lustrations that sanctifies/sanc-
tify’ (with a participle). This expression can be replaced by šu-luḫ-dadag
or else šu-luḫ-sikil-dadag-ga (in a hymn to the god Nuska)!93
Šu-luḫ is a fundamental principle (one of the Sumerian ‘me’), which
constitutes ‘reality’. Its frequent association with ĝiš-ḫur, or even garza,
‘rites’ or ‘cultic rules’ supports a translation of ‘rite(s) of lustration’ in a
religious context. Likely this notion encompasses a great diversity of rites
and functions.
A cosmogonic myth that introduces an incantation shows clearly that
this ‘institution’ was vital, since it has a relationship with drinking water
and agriculture:94
In the wells, the water was not yet drawn, nothing had been instituted, the
furrow had not yet been traced on the vast earth;
the supreme purifier of Enlil did not exist and had not yet accomplished the
holy lustrations.

91 However Tinney, The Nippur Lament, 59: “The Temple lets itself decay because its
rites, which are usually so carefully accomplished, pure and impeccable are defiled”.
(me-luḫ-luḫ-ḫa-sikil-šen-na-bi šu-pel-la-ke4-eš e2-e ur5 ib2-ug7).
92 Falkenstein, “Sumerische religiöse Texte”, 86, and Falkenstein, “Fluch über Akkade”,
121.
93 See line 11 of the poem in van Dijk, Sumerische Götterlieder, 108–113.
94 Van Dijk, “Existe-t-il un ‘un poème de la Création’ sumerien?”, 129.
72 michaël guichard and lionel marti

If the gods are the actors and if they guarantee the rites of purification,
specifically those of the sky and of the earth, the human realm is under
the immediate responsibility of kings, as this passage witnesses:95 “O
(king) Šū-ilīšu, whom Ninlil bore in order for the rites of lustration to be
accomplished perfectly.”
The kings, among whom some have officially endorsed the function of
purifier (išib), could accomplish a ceremony, in particular to ‘purify’ or
‘consecrate’ their army.96 However, it was more usual for the specialists to
take care of it. The išib-priests were responsible above all for these rituals.
Other categories of officiants were also involved, including the gudapsû97
and the abrig of Enki, as well as lesser-known groups such as the uz-ga
(Lament for Ur, l. 350–351):98
The uz-ga priest who so loves the lustration rites was no longer establishing
a rite of lustration for you.
O Father Nanna, your purifier (išib) had ceased to perfectly accomplish for
you the holy rite of the bath (šita).99
These rites are perceived as eternal: “No god can dissolve the rites of the
temple. / Its pure lustration rites will never cease, like the earth.” For all
that, there is a certain dread that they would stop or be forgotten, espe-
cially in the laments over the destruction of the towns of Sumer (The
Nippur Lament: 54):100 “He starts a bitter song because the rites of lustra-
tion of life are forgotten.”
But in the end, there is always a king elected by divine decision to
restore them. The temple is the place where the purification rites are prac-

95 Hymn to Nergal. Cf. Chiera, Sumerian Religious Texts, pl. XXI, 12:58, and Römer,
Sumerische ‘Königshymnen’ der Isin-Zeit, 91–127.
96 An incantation has the following title: “Formula of the king who purifies his army”;
see van Dijk, “Un rituel de purification des armes et de l’armée”, 108–111.
97 “The gudapsû are appropriate for the rites of lustration”; Lutz, Selected Sumerian and
Babylonian Texts, pl. CXX, 1 114: 12.
98 See lastly Römer, Die Klage über die Zerstörung von Ur, 156–157. This word can
describe a particular place, like the temple, or an officiating priest, but also it seems to
describe a rite (see below).
99 In the hymn to the god Nuska (presented in this context with the title cupbearer,
namely guardian and manipulator of the sacred dishes), line 11 seems to suggest that uz-ga,
šu-luḫ and šita describe ritual actions, all probably having to do with the theme of puri-
fication (the nice symmetrical structure of the whole is noticeable in passing): uz-ga-ku3
šu-luḫ-sikil-dadag-ga šita-ku3 ĝa2-ĝa2-ĝa2 (the three rites are matched with the tripling of
the verbal base present-future) = “he tirelessly administers the holy rite-uzga, the rite-šu-
luḫ pure and luminous, as well as the holy rite-šita”. The emphasis falls on the lustration-
šu-luḫ, the most important of the three actions.
100 Tinney, The Nippur Lament.
 purity in ancient mesopotamia 73

ticed more particularly. The hymn to Nanna (E) emphasizes especially

the importance of purifying offerings and cultic meals. Yet, the mention
of the purification of sheep barns in other works suggests that it is also a
fundamental theme.
Without these rites, the gods cannot come into their temple, and their
hearts become irritated. The gods and the officiating priests submit to this
restorative rite: one thus ‘cleans’ the body (su) of the gods. But the effect
of the temple šu-luḫ goes beyond the boundaries of the place: they are
supposed to keep the world around, which is potentially hostile, in a state
of tranquility. Finally, the purification of the sheep barn guarantees the
increase and quality of its goods, which are also intended for the gods.

2.9. The Places of the Rites

It seems that everything can become ‘impure’, even the gods, although
they abhor any form of defilement because they belong to the world and
possess a form of corporeality. The sky, a pure place if ever there was one,
or even the Apsû where Enki keeps the secrets of the rites of lustration, is
no exception to the rule: “The Apsû is defiled.”101 The priests of Enki who
lived on Quiet Street believe in the existence of particularly pure places,
which are the dwelling places of gods: the Apsû, the sky, and certain
places on earth, namely Eridu, Dilmun,102 Ur, and more specifically the
Ekišnuĝal. In the sanctuaries, there are particularly protected places like
the itima (in Akkadian, kiṣṣu), the divine chamber that is always plunged
in darkness. According to the legend of Narām-Sîn, the king of Agade,
when the king destroys the Ekur of Enlil he desecrates all its parts, even
the holiest:103 “The Land (of Sumer) saw the nuptial room, a chamber that
does not know daylight. / Akkad saw the sacred pools of the gods.”

The more private places, like the bedroom and the bathrooms, where the
pails (šen) for the ablutions of the gods were kept, were places of superior
sacrality; this is emphasized by the fact that they are forbidden to the
commoner, who can neither enter them nor see them. Secrecy contrib-
utes to their mysterious character:104 “Its rites, the rites of the Apsû, no
one can see them!”

101 See Maul, “Gottesdienst im Sonnenheiligtum zu Sippar”, 393.

102 The Hymn to Ṧulgi D shows the great value given to the “palm tree of holy Dilmun”
at the time of this king.
103 Cooper, Curse of Agade, 129–130.
104 Hymn to Enlil. See Falkenstein, Sumerische Götterlieder, 44.
74 michaël guichard and lionel marti

In contrast, an important part of the temple was open to the faithful

and lit by the light of day. The temple had to be kept clean and in good
shape. Its staff was busy with this task daily. At the bottom of the temple
hierarchy, the sweepers cleaned the courtyards, as their names ([munus]-
kisal-luḫ) indicate. These responsibilities themselves were shared among
different prebendaries who in all likelihood had their own subordinates
clean for them. The sweepers, even though they were not priests, had to
have their heads shaved like them. Cleanliness, in daily reality, was prob-
ably relative and dependent on the situations and the economic means of
individual temples: we know of a priest-assinnu of Mari who complains
that he is living among rubbish!105
Obviously, lustration rituals happened every day in the main sanctuar-
ies, since the gods ate their meals, and thus received their usual offerings,
every day.

2.10. In the World Outside the Sanctuary

Outside of the sanctuary was the profane world, itself divided into the
civilized world (iri) and into a zone given over to wild animals (eden). The
cycle of life and death and daily nuisances were expected in it. Episodic
impurity was fought against on a case-by-case basis. In normal times, the
impure among the population were tolerated. The inscriptions of Gudea
provide a list, the philological details of which are still problematic today;
among others, one finds persons who were judged ‘sexually impure’
(usug3-ga). Young women’s menstruation (ki-sikil) was a serious source
of impurity. We know that the women living in the palace at Mari in the
18th century had to periodically leave the palace.106 However, this is prob-
ably an unusual case, resulting from the fact that the building sheltered
divine chapels. To the northwest of the great wall of Nippur was a door
called “Big door of the impure (women)” (ka2-gal-u2-zu2-ke4-ne), where a
large metal pool of 12 mines (urudušen) used for the ritual ablution of defiled
women was located.107 These women were thus asked to wash symboli-
cally outside of the town. However, it is possible that the (difficult!) verse
of Enki and Ninḫursaĝa—“There was no young woman who threw the

105 Durand, Archives épistolaires de Mari, 425 (= ARM 26 198).

106 See Ziegler, La population féminine des palais d’après les archives royales de Mari,
18, n. 103.
107 See Stol, “Nippur”, 540a.
 purity in ancient mesopotamia 75

unclean water of her bath in the city (?)”108—signifies that feminine ablu-
tions were normally performed at home. As a consequence, waste water
was poured in the streets rather carelessly. The Sumerian proverbs might
include principles that were still in use when the Old Babylonian appren-
tice scribes were copying them. Thus, some read like hygiene rules: “An
uncleaned hand, brought to one’s mouth, that is forbidden,”109 or:
To pour beer without first washing one’s hand,
To spit without stamping on it,
To sneeze without moving dust,
To kiss with the tongue, in the middle of the day, without being covered
with a shadow,
These are forbidden by Utu.110
Spitting in the street was certainly a commonplace behavior, even though
it was deplored according to the social ethics sketched in these prov-
erbs. Spitting is related to the notion of ‘spell’ (for example, uš7 has both
meanings), which explains why it is condemned by Utu (Šamaš). Notice
that the problem is not so much with leaving one’s saliva on the ground;
rather it is with not making it disappear. Thus, this custom was so deeply
ingrained that it was only asked that people erase that type of pollution,
though it is evident that in fact this recommendation was infrequently
followed. One of the measures taken by Gudea in order to start the resto-
ration of the temple of the Eninnu was to clean the impurity left on paths
by spit, which was thus not perceived as very dangerous in normal times.
It seems, however, that the hero Lugalbanda became very ill during the
military expedition to Aratta because of such a defilement, contracted by
accident.111
In a respectable household, it was customary for a servant to wash the
feet of his master.112 Each and every meal began with an ablution. In fact,

108 If one prefers Katz’s interpretation (“The Story of Dilmun”) mentioned above, then
one will argue that, because of public pressure, women were forced to regularly come and
purify themselves at public ‘fountains’.
109 SP 3.161; cf. Alster, Proverbs of Ancient Sumer.
110 SP 3.8; cf. Alster, Proverbs of Ancient Sumer.
111 According to an oral contribution entitled “Funérailles héroïques dans la littérature
sumérienne” that Guichard made at the Interdisciplinary Colloquium organized by the
departments of Assyriology and of Biblical Milieux in Paris, at the Collège de France, April
14–15: the hero had caught a blemish (uh₂! [ERIM+ŠIM₅]; TMH 3, 10: 70) which had to be
removed by the way of a lustration. But it did not work.
112 “A girl slave, whose name is Šāt-Šamaš (. . .), every day, once she has grinded 10 liters
of flour and washed her master’s feet, and, during the rainy season, once she has filled the
hot water, if, on top of her tasks (eš3-gar3), he gives her a(nother) task to fulfill, it (the con-
tract) will be cancelled”. Figulla and Martin, Letters and Documents of the Old-Babylonian
76 michaël guichard and lionel marti

dish inventories witness to the omnipresence of pails with ewers in pal-

aces as well as in individual homes.113
Thus, one would expect facilities designed for the ablutions of the faith-
ful, who could at least go into the courtyards of the temples. Divine sym-
bols appeared on such facilities, where the opposing parties would take
the oath. In the Ekišnuĝal, the purifiers-gudapsû obviously played a role
in these ceremonies. In that light, we should perhaps read a passage of the
Curse of Agade (16–17) about the construction of the temple, the E’ulmaš,
that is equipped with everything (included facilities to wash oneself?): “So
that each person (purified) by the ‘ritual bath’ (a-tu5) will rejoice in the
(temple) courtyard, / and that on the spot of the party, the people might
be amused.”114

However, when the king Šulgi entered the Ekišnuĝal, after his run (Hymn
A), he first presented his offerings, arranged for the sacrifices and had an
orchestra playing. Then he went to the area reserved for Ningal, Nanna’s
consort. It was only then that he washed himself (l. 56–60):
Having risen like a wild animal from the spot reserved for the king,
In the august palace of Ningal,
I relaxed my knees and I washed (tu5) myself in clear (lit. running) water.
(Then) I kneeled and ate my meal.
(Eventually) like the harrier and the falcon, I rose (again).
At the stage when Gudea was preparing the first auspicious brick for the
Eninnu, he spent the night in the ‘old temple’ of Ninĝirsu, and, having
thus been successful in appeasing the heart of his god, he washed himself
at daybreak (Cyl. A XVIII, 3–4): “As the day was breaking, he washed him-
self / And arranged his (ceremonial) clothes appropriately.”

Then, the prince performs the acts of the cult (prayer, sacrifice, offer-
ings). In doing so, his acts recall those of the high priest at the temple of
Marduk, the Esaĝila of Babylon, as they are described in the ritual of the
Akītu in the Seleucid era.

Period, pl. LXIX, 366, l. 4–18; see Charpin, Le Clergé d’Ur, 475, who shows that we have a
school manual. The clauses however must be related to social reality.
113 Guichard, La Vaisselle de luxe des rois de Mari, 311.
114 The use of sig7 ‘to be green’, ‘to be beautiful’ is difficult to interpret. Falkenstein,
(“Fluch über Akkade”, 79–80) is probably right to understand it in relationship to the
expression ḫul2 ‘to rejoice’ in the preceding line.
 purity in ancient mesopotamia 77

This ‘ritual bath’, which happened before any participation in the cult,
was accomplished with a sort of deep bucket (šen) from which water was
poured on the body. The use of soap made from a salicornia plant is well-
known. The naĝa plant, or its derivative, is the subject of a consecration
incantation of pure water coming from a mythical source:115
The lustral waters emerge from the Apsû.
The water is consecrated for the body, the saponaria is purified for the
body.
The lustral water116 is mixed with the sacred saponaria.
The expression ‘washing of hands’ might indicate that the participant was
often content with just having clean hands. In the context of the cult, the
bucket-šen, made for the bodily needs of the gods, is specifically named
‘sacred bucket of Anu’ in an incantation.117 A censer (níĝ-na); a torch (as
depicted in an Ur III stela, where a naked priest lifts what seems to be
a torch whose smoke rises towards the statue of the cult);118 and other
sacred objects (‘aspergillum’[?] šu-kug) were also employed.119 The whole
was accompanied by an abundant use of tamarisk, reed, juniper, or cedar
or cypress resin.
The belief in cyclical time, which was manifested in the lunar cycle,
made monthly purification rites necessary. The king (on whom the fate
of the entire country depended) was bound to accomplish them at the
end of every month, when the moon disappeared. The ceremony was led
by an exorcist (lu2-mu13-mu13). The king came out wearing new sandals
on his feet, ready to inaugurate a new month.120 A verse from the myth
Inana and Šukaletuda (l. 82) mentions the custom of regularly purifying

115 Van Dijk, Nicht-kanonische Beschwörungen, VIII, 14. Our translation differs slightly
from the one of Wilson, “Holiness” and “Purity”, 38–40.
116 Notice that a-sa10 is related to the Akkadian mesû ‘to wash’ in the (late) lexical series
lu2=ša, with, in this context, the specific meaning ‘brewer’ (Landsberger, A Reconstruction
of Sumerian and Akkadian Lexical Lists, 132, l. 108). sa10 can mean ‘to draw’ (akk. sâbu); see
Conti, “Incantation de l’eau bénite et de l’encensoir”, 255. However, this current incanta-
tion, which parallels sa10 and kug, shows clearly that this epithet describes the positive
characteristic of water. According to Civil (“The Forerunners of Marû and Ḫamṭu”, 68–69),
sa₁₀ or sa₁₀-sa₁₀ is more probably connected with the Akkadian ṣab/pû ‘to soak’.
117 van Dijk, “Ein zweisprachiges Königsritual”, 246–247.
118 Canby, The “Ur-Nammu” Stela, 24–25, and pl. 11 and pl. 43.
119 See van Dijk, “Ein zweisprachiges Königsritual”, 246–247; Sallaberger, “Der ‘Ziqqurrat-
Plan’ von Nippur und exorzistche Riten”, 613.
120 This rite of new shoes is attested in Ur III (Sallaberger, Der kultische Kalender der
Ur III-Zeit, 65–68) and in the Paleo-Babylonian period (van Dijk, “Ein zweisprachiges
Königsritual”).
78 michaël guichard and lionel marti

the palace with palm branches:121 “One uses palms in the king’s palace for
the purification (na-de5).”

2.11. The Permanent Danger of the Outer Edges of Sumer and Akkad
Outside of Sumer and Akkad were alien worlds, subject but independent
and always potentially rebellious. Their inhabitants did not venerate the
gods, nor did they respect the basic rites that guaranteed the smooth
operation of the world. As a result, these countries were plunged into con-
stant defilement. Their existence and even their prosperity remained a
mystery, as is attested in this passage of a prayer letter of Sîn-iddinam (an
Old Babylonian king of Larsa) that was still known in the late period:122
(Among the people of the) land of Elam, even though they are as numerous
as the grasshoppers, there are no dead.
The Šubartu, thick cloud, does not know reverence for the gods.
Its land (however) does not diminish; a time fixed for it (?)123 does not
exist.
Its troops are innumerable, its seed incommensurable.
They live under tents, and do not know the places reserved to the gods.
Because they travel on animal backs like the wild beasts, they do not know
libations and sacrifices.
(The demons) Destiny, Unhappiness, Sickness, and Abomination do not
even come close to them.
These men who despise the oath of god are perjury; (however) their army
remains intact.
This world of the periphery represents the most remote circle in rela-
tion to the religious centers, and it contains all the dangers that one can
possibly fear. The people who populate it have escaped the divine rules
that the gods decree: they are not seen to die, even though the length of
human life should not exceed 120 years, according to an irreversible divine
decree.124 Instead of being a benediction, this marvel puts them in the
category of demons and plagues. They do not answer to any political ethic
and do not respect their oaths. Divine justice has no power over them.
Their nomadic way of life allows them to be associated with beasts.

121 Volk, Inana und Ṧukaletuda, 126–127, and 167–169. See also the exorcist ritual entitled
‘which jostles evil’ (ḫul-dub2), described by Sallaberger, “Der ‘Ziqqurat-Plan’ von Nippur
und exorzistche Riten”.
122 See lastly Brisch, Tradition and the Poetics of Innovation, 78–81, and 158–160.
123 Literally ‘its day’.
124 Myth of Namzitarra quoted by Geller, “Taboo in Mesopotamia”, 107.
 purity in ancient mesopotamia 79

This fantastical vision of barbaric people describes well what the dread
of chaos located very concretely at the doors of the land represents. The
scrupulous application of the rites, and in particular the rites of lustration,
is supposed to contain this permanent threat, or at least separate the land
from it. But the situation sometimes reversed itself in the course of his-
tory, as The Lament over Nippur tells (l. 86–88):
As if the acts of its purifiers were desacralized
As if its lustration rites were no longer creating calm in the (opposing)
countries
(Enlil) abandoned it, he turned his chest away from it.

2.12. Conclusion
For the priests of Enki at Ur, in particular those living between 1800 and
1700 near the great urban sanctuary, the universe rested on the dynamic
of purification; the cosmic order was based on this fluctuating equilibrium
between life and death. What gave life its strength and quality was pre-
cisely the purification acts. If these were interrupted or simply neglected,
the city would collapse. Yet, the rites of the temple, the rites of the exor-
cists, could only be transmitted by the gods, who were their guardians.
Since such rites were the prerogative of only a limited number of spe-
cialists in the temples, and since this knowledge was diffused very little
except among a handful of families, these people then perceived for them-
selves an essential function within their civilization. But notice that they
themselves would disappear behind their gods, such as Kusu, the actual
actor behind the lustration rites. Subordinate to the royal powers, we do
not know whether they ever exercised political influence.

3. Diagnosis and Treatment of Impurity: The Work of Specialists

Most of the documents we possess to study the treatment of evil and its
rituals in the first millennium come from the ‘libraries’ of the Assyrian
palaces.125 There the kings of Assyria had collected a substantial mass
of texts, so that their scholars had at their disposal a collection of docu-
ments as exhaustive as possible in order to fulfill their tasks.126 Next to

125 See for example Pedersen, Archives and Library, 130–180, and, lastly, Frame and
George, “The Royal Libraries of Nineveh”, 265–284.
126 Concerning the function of protection of the king by his scholars, see for example
Parpola, Letters from Assyrian and Babylonian Scholars, XVII–XXIV.
80 michaël guichard and lionel marti

these technical texts, we also have some of the correspondence that the
king maintained with his scholars,127 which provides us with the parallel
daily and concrete examples of the ways in which these manuals were
employed by the scholars who had access to them.

3.1. Notions of Purity and Purification

Studying this corpus allows us to distinguish between a purification that
can be called ‘of the surface’ and another, deeper one that is intended to
extirpate the impurity rooted in the person.
Superficial ‘impurity’ was like a stain caused by external contacts, an
echo of daily defilement, but at the spiritual level. Each relationship with
the divine world (rites, prayers, etc.) demanded, as a preliminary act, puri-
fication from these defilements through appropriate rituals, in a manner
similar to the way in which courtesy required one to be clean before one
was introduced to someone. Thus, when a diviner wanted to practice divi-
nation, he needed to purify himself in the following manner before he
could question the gods:
O Šamaš! I will bring to my mouth pure cedar; I will put it in a knot (made
by) a lock of my hair, I will put for you in my bosom the means of question-
ing128 (that) cedar (represents).
I have washed my mouth at the same time as129 my hand. I have cleansed
my mouth130 with the means of questioning (that) cedar (represents); I have
put pure cedar in a knot (made by) a lock of my hair. Once I carry in my
clothes131 for you the means of questioning (that) cedar (represents), I am pure.
Towards the assembly of the Gods, I approach for the judgment.132

127 This correspondence has been reedited in several volumes. See Starr, Queries to the
Sungod; Hunger, Astrological Reports to Assyrian Kings; Parpola, Letters from Assyrian and
Babylonian Scholars.
128 When one reads ša-pí-am as coming from šêpu: ‘to question’ (for this verb, see CAD
Ṧ/2 294a). The term has been read and interpreted diversely. The fact that it is put before
erennu does not encourage taking it as an epithet of the latter, yet incandescent cedar was
the means of summoning the gods.
129 Ù in OB is followed by the indirect case.
130 This expression, which picks up on the one in l. 1, ‘to bring to one’s mouth’, recalls
the image of the burning firebrand with which the lips of the one who must speak are
purified (see Is 6:7, where Isaiah’s lips are purified with burning coal before he is sent on
his mission).
131 L. 8 clearly echoes the preceding l. 3 and 4. The act of putting in one’s sūnum (=
bosom or hem of a garment) is echoed by the verb labāšu ‘to be clothed’; we suggest
that one indeed read with Hussey, Early Mesopotamian Incantations, vol. 11, texte 22,
l. 8 al-ta-ba-š[a]-ku (= altabbašakkum) and not al-ta-ba ak-ku, which can only come from
šapāku; yet the alternation š/l is not attested for this period.
132 This text was commented upon several times and its translation is not completely
certain. See Goetze, “An Old Babylonian Prayer”, 25–29; Seux, Hymnes et prières aux dieux,
 purity in ancient mesopotamia 81

The diviner, with the help of the cedar—one of the purifying essences par
excellence133—purified all of the parts of his body that were going to be in
contact with the gods: the mouth, through which he spoke, and the hands,
with which he fulfilled the ritual action. For the diviner, this preparation
could take a more complex form, as another ritual shows:
When the diviner is about to accomplish an extispicy for the king, and to
accomplish the rituals: in the morning, before the sun shines, the diviner
must wash with the water of the stoup. Having thrown grass imhur-līm134 in
the filtered oil, he will anoint himself with it.
He will clothe himself with a clean garment, and he will purify himself
with tamarisk and with ‘well grass’. And, on an empty stomach, he will mas-
ticate cedar.135
The ritual describes the steps of purification. The diviner began by wash-
ing with water, which would take care of the impurity covering his body.
Other rituals show that numerous purifying plants136 were mixed together
in this water before it was ‘placed under the stars’ (that is, displayed dur-
ing an entire night) in order to increase the power of the solution thus
obtained. Because of that, the diviner would prepare himself before sun-
rise. Then, once he had rid himself of superficial defilements, he anointed
himself with an oil including a purifying plant, so that he would maintain
his status of purity for the entire time of the ritual—the oil naturally serv-
ing to protect the skin from outside attacks. He then treated his garments,
which also needed to be pure, so that they would contaminate neither
him nor his environment.137
These two examples of rituals demonstrate the necessity of purity when
one comes into contact with the divine, both the initial purification to get
rid of the natural dirtiness/impurity of human beings and also the con-
cern with maintaining this state during the entire length of contact.138

467–470; Reiner, “New Cases of Morphophonemic Spellings”, 35 n. 1; Jeyes, “Divination as

a Science”, 29; Hurowitz, “Isaiah’s Impure Lips”, 87.
133 For the role of the cedar in the context of the divining ritual, see for example Starr,
The Rituals of the Diviner, 48–49; and Durand, Archives épistolaires de Mari, 44.
134 The name of this plant means ‘He confronted the 1000 (evils/demons)’.
135 Zimmern, Beiträge zur Kenntnis, 112, l. 2–5.
136 For a complete presentation of the various purifying products, see Maul, Zukunfts-
bewältigung, 42–44.
137 The same phenomenon is observed during the preparation of the ritual in Reiner,
Šurpu, 11, l. 6.
138 Concerning that notion of ritual purity, see van der Toorn, “La pureté rituelle”,
339–356.
82 michaël guichard and lionel marti

In the same manner, the rituals of ‘washing one’s mouth’ were part of
the process of purification of a person who needed to come into contact
with the divine.139 The mouth, being one of the means of communication
with the gods, needed to be particularly pure.140
The takpirtu141 ritual exemplifies the means used in order to maintain
this state of purity. Built on the root kapāru (‘to wipe, to scrub’), the term
properly means ‘to remove dirtiness’. It is used for persons as well as for
buildings and living spaces.142
In most cases where the contexts are preserved well enough to under-
stand the use of this ritual, its sequence included first a preparatory
phase,143 and its length was coextensive with the length of the rituals with
which it was associated. For example, in a letter from an exorcist to the
Assyrian king that includes the description of a ritual of deliverance from
evil namburbû, the ritual takpirtu is described in the following manner:
“(. . .) it is said in the appropriate ritual namburbû: ‘He (the king) sits for
7 days in a reed hut; the purification ritual (takpirtu) is practiced on him;
he is treated like a sick person (. . .).’ ”144
The rest of the text describes in detail the other types of rituals that
could be used, and these are specifically for eliminating evil. The takpirtu
ritual is thus at the same time preparatory and coextensive with the length
of the larger ritual, in order to maintain the patient in a state of purity
sufficient to allow the practice of the other rituals to be effective.145
On the other hand, there are cases in which the purification equates
with washing oneself from a provoked impurity—a much deeper reality,
which necessitates more complex means for freeing oneself from it.

139 Walker and Dick, The Introduction of the Cultic Image, 12–13.
140 See for example Hurowitz, “Isaiah’s Impure Lips”, 38–39; see above note 130.
141 See Parpola, Letters from Assyrian Scholars to the Kings Esarhaddon and Assurbani-
pal, 157 (note on the text 167, r.8).
142 See the examples included in CAD T 85a–b.
143 But it must definitely be continued during the practice of the associated ritual. For
the text, see Parpola, Letters from Assyrian and Babylonian Scholars, text 247, when a tak-
pirtu ritual is accomplished in the wing of the palace called ‘of the eunuchs’, following a
bad omen.
144 Parpola, Letters from Assyrian and Babylonian Scholars, text 277, l. 9–15.
145 For a similar case, see for example Parpola, Letters from Assyrian and Babylonian
Scholars = SAA 10, 212, where the chief exorcist mentions that he sent an exorcist to prac-
tice the ritual takpirtu for 6 days, while, at his side, a ‘cantor’ practiced rituals. Another very
clear case is documented in Parpola, Letters from Assyrian and Babylonian Scholars, text
69, in which an exorcist must accomplish a ritual takpirtu at the same time that another
ritual of deliverance from evil is performed following a bad omen.
 purity in ancient mesopotamia 83

3.2. Cases of Provoked Impurity

This type of impurity, which provoked a hostile reaction from the per-
sonal divinity or from the gods in general and which required a complex
appropriate treatment, is clearly more pernicious because it has merged
with the victim.146

3.2.1. Voluntary and Conscious Impurities

The severe impurity of an individual could have multiple causes and could
be related to several phenomena, which point to the conscious transgres-
sion of prescriptions.
Thus, a passage in the series Šumma âlu147 specifies the level of purity
of a man who needs to go to a temple after having performed certain
actions:
If a man, having risen to go to the house of his god, touches (. . .),148 he is not
impure.149 If a man, similarly,150 touched the dog of Gula, he is not impure.
If a man, similarly, has chewed of the (plant)-kakkusu from the wall, he is
not impure. If a man, similarly, has chewed tamarisk, he is not impure.
If a man, similarly, drank wine and ate, he is not impure. If, similarly, a
man put meat to his mouth, he is not impure.
If a man, similarly, ate leeks, cress, garlic, onion, beef or pork, he is
impure.151
If a man, similarly, ate apple?,152 he is impure.

146 For van der Toorn, sins’ hierarchy is related to a distinction between ‘ethics’ and
‘etiquette’ (van der Toorn, Sin and Sanction, 12). For Geller, there is clearly a hierarchy in
the depth of transgressions: the less severe ones are simply an inconvenience for the gods,
while the most severe ones are sanctioned by law (Geller, “Taboo in Mesopotamia”, 112).
147 This series, called ‘If a town’, primarily includes a collection of fortuitous omens
that can be observed in the environment of a city-dweller, such as the state of the wall of
a house, the behavior of specific animals, or even meteorological phenomena. The first 40
tablets of this series have been re-edited by Freedman, If a City Is Set on a Height. The Akka-
dian Omen Series Šumma Alu ina Mēlê Šakin, vol. 1, tablets 1–21, and vol. 2, tablets 22–40.
148 The interpretation of this item is not certain.
149 Word for word: ‘He is pure’. The question created by the interpretation of sikil in
this line is the following: is it a purification created by the contact of the object or by
the chewing of the plant with purifying virtue (which is how CAD understands it), or is
it a preliminary state (purity) that has not been modified by the action (contact with an
external object, etc.)? The fact that some of the conditions developed in the rest of the
text make the naked man nu-sikil, ‘impure’, tends to indicate that one should understand
sikil as ‘he is not impure’.
150 ‘Similarly’ (Sumerian: ‘ki.min’) in this passage stands for ‘having risen to go to the
house of his god’.
151 Gadd, Cuneiform Texts from Babylonian Tablets, pl. 38; van der Toorn, “La pureté
rituelle”, 342.
152 If one reads: giš-⸢hašhur⸣?.
84 michaël guichard and lionel marti

If a man, similarly, ‘approached’ a woman in his dream, but did not have
an ejaculation, this man has no lack,153 he has not sinned. He can undertake
all the questioning. There is no obstacle to access the god.154
If a man drinks beer during a meal, this man is not impure.
If a man eats beer of the mountain during a meal, he is not impure.
These examples simply point out the level of purity of the man who pre-
pares to enter a temple. His classification as ‘impure’ is a way of saying
that he could not have contact with the divinity. His impurity had no con-
sequences, as long as he did not transgress a prohibition. These verdicts
are only warnings. However, if he enters a temple while he knows he is
impure, he will have transgressed a prohibition and will contract a serious
impurity, which will not fail to provoke divine wrath.
The text presents multiple situations grouped together by actions
(touch, chew, eat, etc.). The first two lines describe what one can touch
(or chew) without risk of becoming impure before the divinity, namely
amulets (or purifying agents). The following lines give details concerning
the consumption of food. Drinking alcohol during a meal protects against
the impurity provoked by food. The case of meat brought to one’s mouth
highlights the fact that it is the actual absorption of meat that makes one
impure. The foods that are considered to make one impure for contact
with the divine (cress, garlic, onion, etc.) are those that, when consumed,
cause bad breath.155 This creates a parallel between light impurity and
cleanliness of the body. It was inconceivable to communicate with the
gods while having bad breath.
The case of the man who has a dream demonstrates that it was bodily
fluids that made one impure. The relationship between the verb ebēbu “to
be without fault” and the absence of sin (hīṭu) must be noted. The text
does indeed distinguish between two states of purity: el ‘he has not lost
his natural state of purity’ and eb ‘he has not committed a violation that
would have provoked an impurity in him.’

153 This translation allows the maintenance of the meaning of ebbu, which refers both
to the fact that the calculations are right (there is no lack) and to a certain purity related
to the absence of lack towards the gods.
154 If one reads: ittāti ittanallak ana pān ili ūl parik. See parallels in CAD P 157b.
155 Indeed, leeks have a strong smell when cooked; at that time, meat was often rancid,
thus giving out a very strong smell of rot, which the consumption of alcohol must have
minimized because wine ‘washes the mouth’. Wine is often used as an offering to the gods
and during rituals of purification.
 purity in ancient mesopotamia 85

The impurities acquired consciously are, in general, related to the vol-

untary transgression of a taboo, whether it is to spill blood,156 to steal
sacred goods, etc. We will not dwell on these cases because, since the
causes were known, the modalities for eliminating impurities were clear,
and the consequences of the action often included legal punishment,
human justice adding itself to divine justice.

3.2.2. Conscious and Involuntary Impurities

Impurity could also be a result of a physical but involuntary condition,
that is, it could be known, temporary but unavoidable. A clear case is
menstruation, a period during which women were considered impure. A
menstruating woman could be called harištu, “reclusive woman”,157 that
is, “made distant” so that their temporary impurity would not contami-
nate their environment.158
Leviticus demonstrates that women, while they were menstruating,
could not access a sacred place such as the temple, indicating that they
were considered impure. In a similar manner, the Mari documentation
shows that this taboo reached far back in time: the queen Šibtu planned
to leave the royal palace for a couple of days during the month, which also
reveals the sacred nature of that building.159
Another case relates to childbirth. A woman who has just delivered
a baby is described as musukkatu “the one who is taboo” or as urruštu
“dirty or soiled”.160 The length of the impurity could have been 30 days.
In general, any bodily fluid, as was fairly usual, was considered a source
of impurity.
Once the cause of the impurity ended, one simply needed to perform
the suitable rite in order for purity to be restored. In this case, it was only
a superficial purification, a simple cleansing that served to take away the
last traces of residual impurity.

156 Blood had a very important ritual value (see for example Durand, “Quelques
remarques sur le vocabulaire de quelques parties du corps”, 69–71). Thus, to make two
priestesses-nadītum impure in a definitive manner, it was sufficient to put blood on them;
see Pientka-Hinz, “Angeschmiert!” 254–261.
157 See Stol’s indications, Birth in Babylonia, 123 and n. 82, as well as 206.
158 Regarding that theme, see van der Toorn, Sin and Sanction, 31–33.
159 Durand, “La religion amorrite”, 561–563.
160 Concerning the impure state of a woman after birth, see Stol, Birth in Babylonia,
205–206.
86 michaël guichard and lionel marti

3.3. Unconscious Transgressions that Provoked an Impurity

The third possibility is to become impure without being conscious of it.
These are the most documented cases, because they are the most delicate
to settle. The texts record many possible causes for these impurities, since
taboos and prohibitions were very numerous in Mesopotamian society, in
particular because of the multitude of gods and of their prescriptions.

3.3.1. Unconscious Transgressions of a Prohibition

This multiplication of prohibitions made unconscious transgressions
even likelier, since the prohibitions could vary depending on the day. The
collection of hemerology texts161 includes, in addition to auspicious and
inauspicious days, specific prescriptions: practical advice or genuine indi-
cations of taboos that cannot be transgressed. For example, the prescrip-
tion for the fifth day of the month of tašrîtu:
he will eat neither fennel, nor cress, the šîqu demon (eczema) will (would)
take hold of him; he will not eat pork flesh, he will (would) have a trial; he
will not eat roasted meat:162 the rābiṣu demon would strike him . . .”163
Likewise for the seventh day of tašrîtu:
he will not eat fish or leek: a scorpion will (would) bite him; prohibition of
Šulpa’e, who presides at the table . . .164
These prescriptions are similar to those expressed in Šumma ālu and, even
though the notion of impurity is not explicitly mentioned, the fact that
one incurs damages is, for some, an indication that the individual has
upset his or her personal divinity, who turned away from him or her fol-
lowing the impurity, leaving him or her alone and with no protection.
This is expressed clearly in the case of the expression ‘prohibition (ikkib)
of ND’. The term ikkibu, translated by dictionaries as ‘taboo, consequence
of breaking a taboo’, designates the impurity that follows the transgres-
sion of a prohibition, since the consequence, ‘a scorpion would bite him’,
is the act of a divinity.

161 The hemerologic texts are currently published only partially. See provisionally
Livingstone, “The Magic of Time”; and Marti, “Les hémérologies néo-assyriennes”.
162 A method of cooking (šumû) well-known in rituals. It seems that the taboo does not
apply to boiled meat.
163 Labat, Hémérologies et ménologies, 171–173, l. 42–45.
164 Labat, Hémérologies et ménologies, 117, l. 55–56. Concerning alimentary taboos, see
van der Toorn, Sin and Sanction, 33–36. Regarding taboo about these plants, see Stol,
“Garlic, Onion, Leek”, 68.
 purity in ancient mesopotamia 87

These alimentary prohibitions were no accident; rather, although it is

not spelled out in the hemerologies, they depended upon the cultic cal-
endar. Indeed, at the beginning of the month of tašrîtu, several important
rituals took place.165
These alimentary prohibitions have parallels in medical texts; thus the
consumption of garlic, onion or cress in particular could provoke disor-
ders.166 One medical text specifies: “if he eats garlic and onion, he will
have a headache”167 or “during 7 days, he shall not eat garlic, onion, or
leek”.168
One of the tasks of the scholars surrounding the king of Assyria was
precisely to protect him against these potential unconscious transgres-
sions. A letter, unfortunately very fragmentary, highlights this phenom-
enon, with a scholar writing to the king of Assyria, according to the
precepts of hemerologies, about what he can and cannot do: “He eats spelt
bread and he drinks spelt beer, he eats beef, sheep and poultry; (but) he
does not eat garlic, onion or fish, if he then wants to have permanently169
happiness . . .”170
An individual can be soiled by the impurity of a member of his
family,171 such as his father or his mother. Such a case is specifically
documented during the birth of children, when numerous abnormali-
ties are explained by the misdeed committed by the parents. Thus, as an
excerpt from the treatise on abnormal births, Šumma izbu, makes clear,
“If a woman gave birth to an ‘unbalanced person’,172 be it masculine or

165 See for example Cohen, The Cultic Calendar, 326–330.

166 This series, named ‘If a malformed new-born . . .’, collects the fortuitous omens pro-
voked by abnormal human and animal births.
167 Köcher, Die babylonisch-assyrische Medizin in Texten und Untersuchungen, vol. 3,
text 318 iii 23.
168 Köcher, Die babylonisch-assyrische Medizin in Texten und Untersuchungen, vol. 6,
text 575 iii 17 // 574 ii 30.
169 This is our translation of lirkus.
170 Hunger, Astrological Reports to Assyrian Kings, text 231, l. 3’–6’.
171 See Geller’s idea, in “Taboo in Mesopotamia”, 112: “The Theory is that māmītu refers
to a theoretical oath ostensibly taken by an ancestor, or even seven generations of ances-
tors, which forbids the swearer or his progeny from committing various private acts. The
violation of the māmītu, that is, an explicit curse, serves as the ultimate sanction, the ill-
effects of a broken oath being well documented”; for an identical situation in Mari, where
one talks to Yasmah-Adad about a promise probably made by his father, see Durand,
Archives épistolaires de Mari, text 84, and its commentary in Durand, “La religion amor-
rite”, 356–357.
172 This is the šehānu, a word translated originally as ‘giant’, then understood as ‘ecstatic’
by CAD Š/2 263a. For Scurlock and Andersen, Diagnoses in Assyrian and Babylonian Medi-
cine, 334, it is an example of autism. Yet the verb šehûm is used to designate mood swings
88 michaël guichard and lionel marti

feminine, this woman, someone who sinned (arnu) violated173 her in

the street.”174
In addition, the word māmītu, which properly means ‘oath’, also con-
notes ‘malediction (related to perjury)’ provoked by the breaking of an
oath. In some cases, in particular in the examples presented in the ritual
Šurpu, the māmītu could be related to oaths that the ancestors of the
individual had contracted and that must not be broken;175 yet even if the
individual was unaware of such oaths, he or she could still unknowingly
breach them.

3.3.2. The Spread of Impurity

Impurity was contagious. Simple contact with someone or something that
was impure made one impure.
Thus it was recommended, in a treatment for bad teeth, to draw marine
water from the big ocean (a-ab-ba), “there, where no woman in an impure
state has gone, there, where no woman who carries a taboo176 washed her
hands”.177
Water was paradoxically one of the most dangerous substances because
its use for purification filled it with impurities and made it susceptible to
contaminating its environment, as the many cases of impurity contracted
because of contact with soiled water show.178 Similarly, walking on a place
made impure could render one sick.179
Being close to an impure person during the performance of a ritual had
very negative results. This is particularly clear in the case of taking oracles
and is also shown in the exclusion clauses180 (ezib = notwithstanding) of

or social aggressiveness. This text shows that this characteristic could be the consequence
of a sin: a woman who was the victim of someone unbalanced will give birth to an unbal-
anced person.
173 Literally: ‘who made her fat’. Incidentally, the Mesopotamian custom allows for
abortion in that situation. See Scurlock, “Outfoxing Ninhursag”, 31.
174 Leichty, The Omen Series, 38, 69; and Stol, Birth in Babylonia, 168.
175 Geller, “Taboo in Mesopotamia”, 112–114. For Geller, there is a distinction between
malediction-māmītu, which would be less severe, and arnu, blatant sin.
176 This can refer to a menstruating woman.
177 Farber, “Mannam lušpur ana Enkidu”, 311–312. One text has the variant ‘her clothes’
instead of ‘her hands’. For this passage, see Stol, Birth in Babylonia, 205–206.
178 See CAD R 356a.
179 See the examples collected in CAD K kabāsu, 6a–b.
180 During oracular consultations, the diviner thus indicates the cases that could have
disturbed the ritual but that he decided to ignore. See Jeyes, “Divination as a Science”,
28.
 purity in ancient mesopotamia 89

the Questions to Šamaš181 (for example: “notwithstanding the fact that an

impure man or woman got close to the place where the divinatory act
took place and made it impure”), as well as in some extispicy apodoses,
such as: “if there is a hole in the middle of the ‘presence’:182 an impure
person has touched the sacrifice”.183
One passage of the lipšur (= may he be freed) litanies also describes
this phenomenon, since, besides the sins that a man could commit con-
sciously, the following cases that could have caused his impurity are
mentioned:
If he spoke to a ‘damned’ man (tamû),184 if he has eaten the food of a
‘damned’ man, if he drank the water of a ‘damned’ man, if he drank the
leftovers of a ‘damned’ man, if he spoke with a ‘sinner’ (= who committed
an arnu), if he ate the food of a ‘sinner’, if he drank the water of a ‘sinner’, if
he interceded in favor of a ‘sinner’ . . .185
In parallel, the series Šurpu gives the same type of indication:
He slept in the bed of a ‘damned’ person, he sat on the chair of a ‘damned’
person, he ate at the table of a ‘damned’ person, he drank from the cup of
a ‘damned’ person . . .186
Contamination can thus result from having direct contact with someone
who is impure, a ‘sinner’, or indirect contact with ‘what an impure person
touched’, making one impure through that contact itself. There was thus a
sort of ‘chain of transmission’ of impurity. This idea of contamination goes
even further, since, as Maul notes, when a divinity sent a negative omen
to someone, thereby giving it physical form, the simple fact of seeing that
physical manifestation provoked the infection of the addressee.187

181 Starr, Queries to the Sungod, XX–XXVII. These clauses can be organized into two cat-
egories: ezib standard and non-standard. The logic of these expressions sometimes escapes
us; however, we can ask if they do not in fact reflect some non-explicit namburbû, a type of
preliminary ritual of protection against a feared evil, thus making the work of the diviner
easier, since it is unlikely that the latter could just dismiss cases of impurity as severe as
the contamination of his divinatory activity by an impure person.
182 This refers to a groove on the left lobe of the liver; see Koch-Westenholz, Babylonian
Liver Omens, 51–53.
183 Koch-Westenholz, Babylonian Liver Omens, 122, l. 13’, and 501 under ellu.
184 Following the practice of Akkadian sin terminology, which requires that a term
mean, at the same time, an activity and its contrary (for example, tamītu, oath and per-
jury). tâmû can mean here ‘someone who has himself breached an oath’, since tamûm
signifies ‘to take an oath, to swear’.
185 Reiner, “Lipšur Litanies”, 136–137, l. 85–88.
186 Reiner, Šurpu, 16, l. 100–103.
187 Maul, “How the Babylonians”, 124.
90 michaël guichard and lionel marti

3.3.3. The Provoked Negative Actions: Sorcery

One of the ways to become impure without being aware of it and with-
out transgressing any taboo (at least voluntarily) was to be the victim of
sorcery.188 In that case, several means could be used to make the victim
impure. Sometimes one contaminated through ‘dirty things’. Thus, the
sorcerer could spit in the victim’s food. The word used to refer to spit
(ru’ātu) can sometime appear as lu’’ātu, the ‘dirty thing’. It is interesting
to note that the verb meaning ‘make dirty/impure’ in the case of sorcery
is lapātu, which properly means ‘touch with the hand, hit’189 and which
must carry this idea of contamination. The means of action of sorcery are
multiple, as one text indicates:
The witch did an evil sorcery against me. She nourished me with bad drugs;
she made me drink her drink which took my life, she made me take a dirty
bath, which provoked my death; she anointed me with her evil ointment
which caused my destruction, she made me be overtaken by her evil sick-
ness which is ‘capture by the māmītu’ . . .190
In any case, once the spell was cast and the personal god was upset, the
victim of the spell, deprived of his or her protections, encountered a series
of misfortunes, which manifested themselves191 in ways not particularly
different from those plaguing a person who became impure for different
reasons.
Thus, when such misfortunes happened, the victim tried first to deter-
mine what caused his or her woes, and for this, he or she had to consult
specialists.

3.4. The Effects of Impurity and its Identification

Although a person could be impure without being conscious of it, the
gods were bound to make signs appear that indicated his or her state to
the victim. If interpreted correctly, these signs allowed the person to iden-
tify the evil and become pure again. As long as an evil was not identified,
it was impossible to perform the appropriate ritual to eradicate it. It is

188 See Schwermer, Abwehrzauber und Behexung.

189 See the example quoted by Abusch, “Witchcraft and Anger”, 93.
190 Clay, Babylonian Records, text 18, l. 1–7, translated and commented on by Abusch,
Mesopotamian Witchcraft, 12; and Schwemer, Abwehrzauber und Behexung, 70, n. 5.
191 See for example Stol, “Diagnosis and Therapy”, 47.
 purity in ancient mesopotamia 91

thus necessary now to study the manifestations and the means of identify-
ing impurity.192

3.4.1. The ‘Loss’ of the Personal Divinity

In the Mesopotamian conception, each person was associated with a per-
sonal god, who protected him or her and served as his or her interme-
diary among the other gods. Very often, impurity or sin had as its first
manifestation the fact of provoking the wrath and then the departure
of this divinity,193 which left that person with no defense against either
natural or supernatural attacks. Thus, catastrophes that descended upon
someone could be the sign of the personal divinity’s wrath, either because
of a transgression or because of a spell.194 These signs were varied: sick-
ness, bad luck, external attacks such as insect bites, etc. Such signs often
launched investigative measures to find out if one had unknowingly
become impure. The effects of divine wrath are presented, in more or
less detail, in the prayers to the gods as well as in some literary works
and in rituals. In general, they can be classed into three categories: physi-
cal problems such as illnesses, psychosomatic problems,195 and social
consequences.196

3.4.2. An Extreme Case: The Impossible Identification of Evil

A passage of Ludlul bēl nēmeqi (= ‘I want to praise the lord of wisdom’)
supplies all the actions needed in case of persisting bad fortune:197
I called my (personal) god, but he did not pay attention to me; I prayed
to my goddess, but she did not raise her head towards me. The diviner
remained uncertain during an oracular questioning about (my) future; the

192 In Mesopotamian culture, fate was not ineluctable. The various omens sent by the
gods had a preventive purpose, since human beings, having been warned in such a man-
ner, could, if they accomplished the necessary rituals, escape their fate.
193 The consequences of the personal divinity leaving are clearly described in the text
Ludlul bēl nēmeqi; see Annus and Lenzi, Ludlul bēl nēmeqi, tablet I, l. 43–120.
194 See for example Abusch, “Witchcraft and Anger”, 83–121.
195 On this topic, see for example Stol, “Psychosomatic Suffering”, 57–68. Concerning
madness in the Mesopotamian documentation, see Stol, “Insanity in Babylonian Sources”,
1–12.
196 These effects parallel those of sorcery; see Stol, “Diagnosis and Therapy”, 47.
197 The main part of the first tablet of this text and everything that comes before on
tablet II describes the symptoms that over-burden the victim. They are of all sorts, physical
(a deterioration of the general physical health), emotional (severe depression), related to
events (extreme bad luck), and relational (definite ostracism).
92 michaël guichard and lionel marti

interpreter did not clarify my situation through fumigations; I implored the

god of Dreams, but he did not open my understanding; the exorcist, through
the rituals, did not lift the wrath that was coming down on me . . .198
The wretched character, having deduced from his state that he is the vic-
tim of some divine wrath, seeks to know its cause: he consults various
specialists, and then desperate, he calls upon an exorcist who knows gen-
eral appeasing rituals.
This impurity, provoked by divine wrath, impacts his health, which
once more leaves specialists baffled:
My symptoms scared the exorcist and the diviner was thrown into confu-
sion by the omens he obtained for me; the exorcist did not diagnose the
state of my illness and the diviner did not indicate the end of my illness.199
This passage from Ludlul bēl nēmeqi presents the different steps to fol-
low and the specialists to consult when faced with bad luck. The present
case is extreme, since none of the specialists have the means to solve the
patient’s problem.
The first solution, according to this text, is to pray to the divinity in
order to quell its fury,200 then to call upon specialists, such as the diviner
or the interpreter (šā’ilu), who are able to spot and interpret the signs
from the gods and thus to understand why the individual is suffering.201
Eventually, he calls upon a specialist, the ‘exorcist’, who is informed
about many rituals but who also fails. The themes of the inability to under-
stand divine wrath and the difficulty of appeasing it, themes witnessed
in Ludlul bēl nēmeqi, recur in Mesopotamian literature, which sometimes
even portrays powerless gods confronted with similar situations. This is
the case in a passage of the ritual Šurpu202 that has been specifically elab-
orated for cases in which the cause of suffering is unknown.
An evil malediction, such as a gallû-demon, has been placed on (this) man;
silence and torpor have been placed on him; pernicious silence has been

198 Annus and Lenzi, Ludlul bēl nēmeqi, tablet II, l. 5–9.
199 Annus and Lenzi, Ludlul bēl nēmeqi, tablet II, l. 108–111.
200 For these penitential prayers, see for example Seux, Hymns and Prayers, 139–211;
Maul, ‘Herzberuhigungsklagen’.
201 The lack of answer in this specific case could be related not to the wrath of the
personal divinity but to its absence, since, according to Jeyes, “Divination as a Science”,
28–29, the diviner directly questions the personal divinity of the patient, who serves as an
intermediary among the great gods. If this divinity is absent, the diviner is no longer able
to receive answers from the gods, for lack of an intermediary.
202 Reiner, Šurpu, 30, l. 1–34.
 purity in ancient mesopotamia 93

placed on him; an evil malediction, a (perjury) malediction, a migraine. An

evil malediction has cut this man’s throat, as one would do for a sheep. His
god has left his body. His goddess, full of good advice, put herself aside.
Silence and torpor cover(s) him like a cloth and control(s) him constantly.
Marduk looked towards him.
He (= Marduk) entered the temple to see his father Ea and he cried:
“Father, an evil malediction, such as a gallû-demon, has been placed on
(this) man.” He spoke to him a second time: “I do not know what to do (for)
this man; what could appease him?” Ea answered his son Marduk: “My son,
what is it that you do not know? What more can I give to you? Marduk, what
is it that you do not know? What more can I give to you? What I do know,
you know it (. . .).”
Over time, the risks of transgressions became more and more numerous,
complex and sometimes so inconsistent for commoners that, during the
first millennium, the theme of the enigmatic character of divine design
for human beings developed. This is presented well in the “Theodicy”,203
a text in which a man questions his friend about ‘divine injustice’, which
creates situations in which a person who follows the divine precepts to
the letter experiences misfortunes that are unknown to the one who strays
from the same principles. His friend answers him:
Divine design is as remote as the depth of the sky. It is too difficult to under-
stand, people cannot understand it. (. . .) Even if one (tries) to comprehend
divine intentions, people cannot understand them . . .204
The case presented in Ludlul bēl nēmeqi is extreme and shows the grada-
tion of possible answers available to the individual confronted with impu-
rity, from the simple personal prayer to the use of complex rituals.

3.5. Fighting Impurity

3.5.1. The Impurity Specialist in the First Millennium: The Exorcist
Among all the purity specialists, the exorcist is particularly well docu-
mented in the first millennium.205 The translation ‘exorcist’ is traditional

203 For a recent translation of this text, see Foster, Before the Muses, 914–922.
204 Foster, Before the Muses, 920, l. 256–264.
205 Several sumero-akkadian terms are used to refer to the ‘exorcist’ without it being
clear whether these were simple synonyms or different professions. There is the Sum-
erian lú-maš-maš and the Akkadian terms mašmaššu and āšipu. See Jean, La magie néo-
assyrienne, 22–53; and Geller, Ancient Babylonian Medicine, 48–49, which ends with: “But
what was the mašmaššu if not āšipu? (. . .) One difference does appear to emerge within
the patterns of our evidence, that āšipu may have been a prestige term of scholarship and
literature while mašmaššu comes from the actual parlance of practice and everyday life”.
94 michaël guichard and lionel marti

but does not account for all of his functions, and his status is still the
subject of debate.206 His vast field of activities meant that he was always
compared to other specialists whose activities applied to specific domains.
Thus, because of his ‘medical’ talents, the exorcist has often been studied
in relationship to the medical practitioner, the asû. For a long time, schol-
ars accepted that Mesopotamian medicine207 was divided into two fields:
the field of the asû ‘physician’, who was concerned with physical ailments,
and the field of the exorcist, who dealt with the supernatural. Today, opin-
ions are more nuanced, although a consensus has not yet been reached.208
The exorcist’s field of competences can be examined through docu-
ments of ritual practice as well as through the ‘manual of the exorcist’.
This directory, which gives the names of the different books an āšipu
needed to know in order to perform his job,209 gives an idea of his assign-
ments and of the depth of his actions. It contains several broad sections,
and it seems that the directory grew over time to include new knowledge,210
so that it ended up covering, in its final form, an important part of the
known scholarly texts. Among these are many texts related to purifica-
tion, including those meant to counteract evil, which makes the exorcist
into a specialist in the struggle against impurity in all its aspects. The fact
that he is said to master the išippūtu, namely ‘the science of the (išippu,
a certain type of) purifying priest’ is, in that regard, particularly telling.
This manual does not permit defining the originality of the exorcist in
comparison to other analogous professionals, since it mentions numer-
ous texts that are also part of the basic knowledge of other professions.
Comparison between scholars’ libraries also shows that one often finds
the same books in multiple catalogues, never mind the specializations of
their owners.211 Similarly, the exorcist was not the only one concerned to

206 For a review of the problem, see Jean, La magie néo-assyrienne, 3–52; and Stol,
“Diagnosis and Therapy”, 48.
207 Concerning Mesopotamian medicine, see Attinger, “La médecine mésopotami-
enne”, 1–96; and lastly Geller, Ancient Babylonian Medicine.
208 See for example Scurlock, “Physician, Exorcist, Conjurer, Magician”; and Heessel,
“The Babylonian Physician Rabâ-ša-Marduk”, 13–28.
209 See Jean, La magie néo-assyrienne, 62. For a study of these titles, and their classifica-
tion, see Geller, “Incipits and Rubrics”, 225–258; and the comments by Lenzi, Secrecy and
the Gods, 85–95.
210 Its first part concerns precisely the āšipūtu, compiled by a certain Esagil-mukîn-
apli of the time of Hammu-rabi of Babylon. Two other sciences are mentioned later:
kakugallūtu (science of the priest ka-kù-gál, ‘the man with a pure mouth’, the incantation
priest) and išippūtu (science of the išib, išippu, the purifying priest).
211 Jean, La magie néo-assyrienne, 144–167.
 purity in ancient mesopotamia 95

one degree or another with purification, and some rituals seem to have
demanded the presence of several different specialists.212
When an exorcist was called to a patient, he had at his disposal a com-
plete range of measures for treatment, including rituals to protect himself
against the potential evil carried by his patients, which shows that the
risks of impurity transmission were taken very seriously.
In order to identify the ailment plaguing the patient, the exorcist could
join forces with other specialists, such as the bārû (diviner). He also had
at his disposal a manual for interpreting fortuitous omens, called ‘When
an exorcist goes to the home of a patient . . .’;213 it included a long list of
‘symptoms’, which allowed him to identify the illness of the patient and
among which the effects of many cases of impurity were mentioned—be
it the consequence of sacrilege, in particular of māmītu, of sins, etc.—
along with the appropriate remedies. For example: “if the patient’s face is
covered with sweat and he is constantly weary:214 hand of the Gemini; you
treat him with exorcism and you wipe him abundantly: he will heal.”215
Simply by observing the sick person, the exorcist was able to identify
the ailment: the ‘hand of the Gemini.’216 Once he obtained the identifica-
tion, the practitioner acted in two stages. First, he used the appropriate
ritual and practiced his ‘exorcism’ ašipūtu, in order to suppress the deep
impurity and its cause. Second, it was necessary to purify the patient, and
thus to wash him of his dirtiness.
There were many rituals to treat impurities—about as many as there
were ways of becoming impure. They may be divided into two categories:
the rituals aimed at a known evil and the ones, more general, against an
unidentified or poorly identified evil.

3.5.2. The Specifically Targeted Treatments

The rituals directed against an identified evil were called nam-búr-bi,
which means “(ritual for) its (evil’s) deliverance.”217

212 See the case analyzed by Jean, La magie néo-assyrienne, 102–103: foundation rituals
that require the presence of a bārû, of an āšipu and of a kalû.
213 Labat, Traité akkadien de diagnostic; and Heessel, Babylonisch-assyrische Diagnostik.
214 See Heessel, Babylonische-assyrische Diagnostik, 224 n. 38’, and 268 n. 41.
215 Labat, Traité akkadien de diagnostic, 70–71, l. 1, and CAD K 179b.
216 Concerning these notions of ‘Hand of divinity’, see for example Heessel, Babylo-
nisch-assyrische Diagnostik, 49–54.
217 These texts have been reedited by Maul, Zukunftsbewältigung.
96 michaël guichard and lionel marti

Although these rituals could have a preventative effect, in particular

when a diviner practiced extispicy,218 they are predominantly curative
against a specific evil, to free the victim from his or her impurity. The
colophons found for this series demonstrate that it included at least 135
tablets, which covered several hundred specific cases. Each known bad
omen thus had its own ritual. According to S. Maul, this type of ritual had
to fulfill six precise objectives, which corresponded to the six parts of a
namburbû ritual.219
The following namburbû was used against a potential evil embodied in
and predicted by a wild cat:220
For the evil (predicted by) a wild cat which constantly growls221 in a plain-
tive manner, moans and rolls on himself constantly in the house of a man,
precisely to make this evil pass and so that it does not go close to the man
and to his house, etc.
The bad omen here is represented by a cat that is growling in a house.
This type of omen appears in several divinatory series, and in particular in
the fortuitous omen of the Šumma ālu series, ‘If a town’.222 It is followed
by the description of the ritual that the exorcist needs to accomplish:
The ritual to accomplish: in the night, install a stoup. Drop in it tamarisk,
some maštakal plant, gypsum, asphalt, big and small peas, and leave it dur-
ing the night under the stars. Make a cat figurine out of clay.
Make it bicolor with gypsum and charcoal. Install two trays, (one) for
Ea and (the other) for Marduk. Arrange three food rations of twelve breads
baked of spelt in each of them; pour dates (and) fine flour; place a mersu-
cake of honey and butter. Install a libation vase, fill the drinking vase with
first quality beer and put it in place. Install a juniper censer. Once this part
of the ritual is installed, let plants of the yard fall in it. Make this man stand
upright, he raises the cat figurine and he says: . . .

218 See Koch, “Three Strikes and You’re Out”, 46–48; Maul, Zukunftsbewältigung, 198.
219 Maul, “How Babylonians Protected Themselves”, 124: “1) The person affected must
placate the anger of the gods who had sent him the omen; 2) the person must effect the
gods’ revision of their decision to give him an evil fate; 3) the impurity which the person
had acquired through the agency of the omen must be removed; 4) the impurity of the per-
son’s house and general surroundings must be removed; 5) the person must be returned
to his normal, ‘intact’ life; 6) the person should be provided with permanent protection
against the renewed threat of sinister omens”.
220 Caplice, “Namburbi Texts”, text 15; Maul, Zukunftsbewältigung, 332–335.
221 For bakû, ‘to scream’, see Durand, Archives épistolaires de Mari, 492.
222 Omens concerning cattle, wild animals, dogs, cats and pigs are found in tablets
37–49: Freedman, If a City Is Set on a Height, vol. 1, 2.
 purity in ancient mesopotamia 97

The ritual is divided into two parts. First is the concoction of a water-based
preparation with a strong purifying quality, whose strength is amplified by
exposure to one night under the stars. Then, the exorcist fashions a figu-
rine representing the evil spirit and destined to be the receptacle of the
impurity. In a second step, the site of the ritual is prepared and the meal
for the gods is served. As Maul notices, since the man for whom the ritual
is practiced is impure, a part of the preparation involves arranging a par-
ticularly pure zone, made out of a carpet of collected garden plants with
purificatory powers, where the man can stand without contaminating his
environment through contact or upsetting the gods with his impurity.223
When everything was ready, the exorcist recited the following prayer:
O Ea and Marduk, merciful gods, who deliver the one who is bound, who act
as a stake for the weak,224 and who love human beings! O Ea and Marduk,
be present in this day, during my judgment: judge my case and decide my
affair!
The exorcist calls upon the gods, so that they reconsider the case of the
victim one more time and revise their negative verdict.
The evil (announced by) this wild cat, which growls plaintively and moans
in my house, which terrifies me day and night, whether it is a failure in the
eyes of my god, or a failure in the eyes of my goddess, O Ea and Marduk,
radiant gods, let me escape the evil of the bad omens which are found in my
house; may they not come closer to me, may they not approach, may they
not border me, may they not reach me! May he (the cat) cross the river, may
he pass the mountain, may he move 3600 double leagues (= as far as pos-
sible) away from my body, may he go up in the heavens like incense smoke,
may he not return to its place, as the tamarisk that has been pulled out!
The ritual continues with the pressing demand that the gods prevent the
evil from approaching the man, carefully expressing, through a succession
of synonyms, all possible accesses, so that the evil can find no means of
reaching the patient. The ritual can then end:
He says this before Ea and Marduk and he puts the cat figurine on the
ground, passes over him the censer (and) the torch, purifies him with the
water from the stoup. Make this man kneel and have him say everything
that comes to his mind.

223 Maul, “How the Babylonians Protected Themselves”, 127.

224 Horticultural image of a climbing plant, which needs a stake to grow straight.
98 michaël guichard and lionel marti

He will throw this cat in the river. Without looking behind him, without
going back on the road he has already taken, he will go directly towards his
house, and as long as he lives, evil will not come close to him.
The use of the censer, the torch and the water signifies the purification of
the patient, making the impurity inside his body come out. Then his body
is washed with purifying water, which removes the remnants of superfi-
cial impurity; these are then transferred, by means of the water now filled
with impurity, to the cat figurine. The entire passage corresponds to many
ritual acts. Maul interprets the throwing of the cat effigy into the water, in
particular, as a sort of trial by ordeal, in which the cat figure, since it does
not come back to the surface, is found guilty by the gods225 and, thus, the
victim is acquitted.

3.5.3. General Rituals

Next to precise rituals, aimed at a specific evil, there were other, much
more elaborate rites against evils that were poorly identified or not identi-
fied at all. In any case, these are complex constructions, created in order
to be maximally effective against a general phenomenon, whether it is
sorcery (Maqlû), sin (Šurpu) or an unidentified impurity (Bīt rimki). There
are many other rituals of this type, but these three illustrate well the struc-
ture and the motivation of these types of rites.
In some cases, evil resists all identifications. The gods themselves are
sometimes helpless and need to practice general rituals, as shown in this
passage from the Šurpu ritual, in which, after the god Marduk226 reports
to Ea his incapacity to cure a patient, the latter advises him:
Go, Marduk, my son! Bring him in the pure bīt rimki and undo his maledic-
tion (of perjury) and untie his malediction (of perjury), the evil which brings
trouble to his body, (whether it be) the malediction of his father, (whether
it be) the malediction of his mother, (whether it be) the malediction of his
older brother, (whether it be) the malediction for murder, all things of which
this man was not informed. The malediction, through the incantation of Ea,
may it be peeled like (a clove of) garlic, may it be pulled out like (the stems
of) dates, may it be frayed like the fibers of a palm! O malediction (māmītu),
may you be warded off by Sky and Earth!227

225 Maul, “How the Babylonians Protected Themselves”, 128. For a different opinion, see
Veldhuis, “On Interpreting Mesopotamian Namburbi Rituals”, 150.
226 In this passage, Marduk plays the role of the exorcist. We know in addition that
the exorcist sees himself as the human emissary of Marduk (see for example Geller, Evil
Demons, XII).
227 Reiner, Šurpu, 31, l. 35–59.
 purity in ancient mesopotamia 99

Ea thus advises Marduk to practice two things: first, the purification of the
man in the ‘house of the bath’ (bīt rimki), which is also the name of an
important purification ritual; then, as the following lines describe, albeit
without explicitly calling it this, the process of the Šurpu ritual.
Two general rituals serve to fight against an impurity of which the con-
sequences are equivalent, but of which the cause is different: Šurpu sup-
presses an impurity related to the unconscious transgression of a taboo,
and Maqlû cancels the results of a sorcerer’s attack.

3.5.4. The Maqlû Ritual against Sorcery

The Maqlû (‘combustion’) ritual is specifically designed to counteract
sorcery.228 Nonetheless, it belongs to the category of general rituals, since
different kinds of sorcery, as we observed earlier, can affect an individual
in varied ways and make the victim impure as a consequence of divine
wrath. Maqlû is used when the patient is affected by an act of sorcery, the
specific nature of which is ignored.
The Maqlû ritual includes, in its canonical form, eight incantation tab-
lets and one ritual tablet. Its compilation is the fruit of a long process of
redaction and elaboration from varied incantations, in order to compose
a ritual that would be used specifically against sorcery.
This ritual has many parallels, such as Bīt rimki,229 in particular in pas-
sages where the patient, having washed his or her hands, pours water on
the sorceress’ representations, thus transferring his or her impurity to her.
The elaboration of its final form in the first millennium would have been
the fruit of a combination of preexisting rites and rituals in order to create
a long and complex ceremony.230 Some clues indicate that, in the annual
ritual calendar, Maqlû needed to be practiced in the month of Abu.231 This
did not prevent its use in case of need at other times.

228 This ritual was edited by Meier, Die assyrische Beschwörungssammlung Maqlû. A
new edition is being prepared by Abusch. Refer to his many publications, in particular
Abusch, Mesopotamian Witchcraft; Schwemer, Abwehrzauber und Behexung, 37–55; and,
lastly, Abusch, “A Neo-Babylonian Recension of Maqlû”.
229 See, lastly, Abusch, “A Neo-Babylonian Recension of Maqlû”, 1–16.
230 Abusch, Mesopotamian Witchcraft, 116–117.
231 Jean, La magie néo-assyrienne, 87. See Abusch, Mesopotamian Witchcraft, 109, quot-
ing from Gadd and Kramer, Literary and Religious, vol. 2, 410 obv. l. 25–27, here l. 27: ne-pi-
šam an-na-a ina u4 28*-kám ša iti ne in-ni-p[u-uš-ma] i-šal-lim, “This ritual needs to be done
on the 28th day of the month of Abu; he will get better”. It is interesting to note that the
28th day of Abu is not a propitious day (see Labat, Hémérologies et ménologies, 165). These
rituals of the month of Abu perhaps need to be related to those indicated in Parpola, Let-
ters from Assyrian and Babylonian Scholars, text 290, l. 6. For the rituals of the month of
100 michaël guichard and lionel marti

The core of the ritual consisted of listing all possible forms of sorcery
and then transferring the evil of the patient onto a figurine representing
the person who cast the spell; the figurine was then burned in order to
undo the evil curse. Tablet IX provides us with the ritual that needed to
be performed.232
Sorceresses’ representations are raised before Šamaš and then placed in
a brazier, the bewitched person asking Šamaš to judge the affair by identi-
fying the sorceresses and punishing them. Šamaš is the only one who can
do this, since he is at the same time an impartial judge and the god of
divination; knowing everything, he is able to identify the root of the evil.
The following steps in the ritual consist of tackling the curse itself through
the action of water, fire and fumigations, and then purifying the patient of
evil residues, to ‘remove’ the sorceress and to accomplish rites that protect
the patient from becoming the victim of another spell.233 The specificity
of Maqlû comes from the fact that it acts against a unique type of evil,
represented by the statue of the sorceress. The succession of incantations
and actions aims to counteract all of the possible means of bewitching an
individual, without forgetting a single one—since the one used against
the victim is unknown—and to return the whole to the person who cast
the spell.

3.5.5. Šurpu ‘Cremation’

The most famous ritual against the effects of taboo transgressions is called
Šurpu, ‘cremation’.234 It is often quoted alongside the ritual against sor-
cery, Maqlû (‘combustion’),235 but is distinguished from it by its means
of action. While Maqlû is used to banish, through transfer, an impurity
related to a known cause (sorcery) but instigated by an unidentified
modality, Šurpu acts on unknown causes generating an impurity which,
on the basis of a number of phenomena, one has come to suspect. This rit-
ual includes several tablets236 that describe its different steps and compo-
nents, in particular a ‘ritual tablet’ (qualified as ‘tablet I’ in the published

Abu, see in particular Parpola, Letters from Assyrian Scholars to the Kings Esarhaddon and
Assurbanipal, 203–204.
232 See the comments and the description given in Abusch, Mesopotamian Witchcraft,
124–133.
233 See the summary table in Abusch, Mesopotamian Witchcraft, 156.
234 The most recent edition of the text is Reiner’s Šurpu; to be supplemented by Borger,
“Shurpu II, III, IV and VIII in ‘Partitur’”, 15–90.
235 Indeed, these two rituals are next to each other in the Manual of the Exorcist.
236 One can consult the analysis of Bottéro, Mythes et rites de Babylone, 163–219.
 purity in ancient mesopotamia 101

edition)237 that describes the installation of the brazier, the purification

of the specialist as well as of the patient, the preparation instructions and
the sequence of events for the ritual. Tablets II and III list the multitude
of potential faults, distinguishing between sins in tablet II and māmītu238
in tablet III; the following tablets include in part incantations against
specific actions, a catalogue of potential faults committed by the patient,
and the related rituals. Tablet IX in the series is very interesting, since it
includes incantations to be recited over the different materials used dur-
ing the ritual for purification. It deals with the different plants (tamarisk,
cedar, etc.), water and flames, etc.
The process of purification as it is presented in the tablet of the ritual
is the following: the exorcist prepares the ritual by installing the central
object of the rite, the brazier. The patient is purified in order to partici-
pate in the ritual. Many incantations are recited; the patient is freed from
his or her deep evil, and his or her impurity is transferred to different
elements that are then undone, a symbolic representation of the patient
from whom all impurities are being detached.
He (the patient) peels a clove of garlic and throws it in the fire; he pulls the
date (from its stem) and throws it in the fire; he frays the fibers of the palm
and does the same;239 he exposes a wad of wool to air and then does the
same; he exposes goat hair to air and does the same; he exposes red wool to
air and does the same . . .240
We know the incantations that need to be recited with each of these
actions through tablets V and VI of the ritual. The incantations allow us
to better understand the hoped-for results of the combustion, as the fol-
lowing example shows:241
Incantation: just as he peels the garlic clove and throws it in the fire, (and
just as) the burning fire burns it, so that it can no longer be cultivated in
the flowerbeds, it can no longer be next to the rivulet or the canal, its root
can no longer take possession of the soil, its bough can no longer rise, and it
can no longer see the sun, and it can no longer approach the banquet of the
god or of the king, (so then) the oath and the māmītu-perjury, the answer

237 This is, however, probably the last tablet in the series; see Lambert, “The Ritual for
the Substitute King: A New Fragment”, 122; Walker and Dick, The Introduction of the Cultic
Image, 29, and n. 102; as well as Bottéro, Mythes et rites de Babylone, 165–168.
238 According to Geller, tablets II and III of Šurpu distinguish between two levels of
fault (Taboo in Mesopotamia, 112–113).
239 Namely, he throws it in the fire.
240 Reiner, Šurpu, 11, l. 18–21.
241 Each of these incantations follows the same structure.
102 michaël guichard and lionel marti

and the questioning,242 the evil that exhausts, the fault, the transgression,
the shortcoming, the illness which is in my body, in my flesh, in my tendons,
like this garlic clove, may they be peeled, and that in this day the burn-
ing fire may burn them, may the malediction go away and may I see the
light.243
Contrary to the Maqlû ritual, Šurpu tackles an impurity related to an
unconscious transgression.

3.5.6. The Ritual of Bīt rimki

This ritual belongs to the category of rituals that use water as a means of
action.244 The expression Bīt rimki, that is ‘house of ablutions’, designates
both the ‘bathroom’, which is, incidentally, mentioned to Marduk by Ea,
and a ritual of purification by water.245 This ritual is addressed to com-
moners as well as to the king, but in our corpus, the copies that describe
it are concerned only with the king.
In order to accomplish this ritual, the exorcists built a house of ablu-
tions (bīt rimki) outside of town. The king would come to it at sunrise. The
ritual246 itself consisted of the king going through seven ‘houses’ where,
with the help of a specialist, he needed to cleanse himself each time from
a specific source of impurity. Thus, for example, ‘houses’ two and six con-
cerned the ‘sorcerers’, ‘house’ five the māmītu, and ‘house’ seven ghosts.
Although each ‘house’ demands a specific ritual, the process is the same
for all the ‘houses’: the sovereign, accompanied by a specialist, enters
the house, each reciting specific incantations, and the sovereign, having
washed a part of his body, lets water flow on the figurine that is supposed
to represent the root of the evil.
This ritual is truly a general ritual, since, unlike Maqlû or Šurpu, which
suppress the multiple manifestations of a unique cause, Bīt rimki purifies
the patient from all types of possible attacks, from sorcery to the action
of a supernatural being, as well as the transgression of prohibitions. The
treatment of each specific evil in each of the ‘houses’ sometimes picks up
incantations known from other rituals that treat similar evils. Thus, the

242 For this sequence, see Schwemer, Abwehrzauber und Behexung, 162; and “Turtu et
maš’altu”.
243 Reiner, Šurpu, 31, l. 60–72.
244 Note, for example, the ritual Bīt salā’mê, meaning, word for word, ‘the house of the
aspersion of water’.
245 Reiner, Šurpu, 31, l. 36–37.
246 Edited by Laessoe, Studies on the Assyrian Ritual and Series Bīt rimki. To supple-
ment, in particular, Borger, “Das Dritte ‘Haus’ der Serie Bīt rimki”, 1–17.
 purity in ancient mesopotamia 103

incantations described for ‘house five’ against the māmītu are parallel to
those of tablet III of Šurpu, which also deals with māmītu; similarly, those
of ‘house’ two are parallel to those of tablet I of Maqlû. Nevertheless, in all
these cases, the mode of purification is different, since it is water.
The use of this ritual is documented for particularly nefarious events,
such as those announcing the death of the sovereign, especially the omen
foretold through an eclipse.247 An eclipse announcing the sovereign’s
death necessitated the ritual of the ‘substitute king’ or šar pūhi.248 Indeed,
the usual means of counteracting ill omens, such as the namburbû, were
not seen as sufficient in the face of such an extreme evil. The principle
of the ritual was simple. One had to appoint a substitute king in place of
the ruling sovereign, who ran the risk of suffering the effects of the bad
omen; the killing of the replacement at the end of the substitution period
fulfilled the bad omen.249 Then the true king went back to his throne.
When the substitute was buried, a great number of purification rituals
were performed to get rid of the residual evil linked to the bad omen
and the evil caused by having been in close contact with the substitute,
who was laden with considerable impurities. The following are the rites
described by the specialist Mār-issar to the king Assarhaddon, which were
performed during the inhumation of the royal substitute:
We prepared the tomb: he and his queen were wearing their finery, their
ornaments; one saw their clothes dyed in purple; they are buried and
lamented. The igneous offerings have been made, all the bad signs have
been cancelled. The numerous apotropaic rituals (namburbû), the ritual of
Bīt rimki, the one of Bīt salā’ mê, the exorcist rituals, the penitential psalms
and the ‘litanies peculiar to the ṭupšarrūtu’ have been accomplished per-
fectly. The king, my lord, needs to know this.250
The association of the Bīt rimki with other rituals of purification and of
elimination of evil shows the strength of the impurities that needed to be
fought, as well as their diversity. The ritual of šar pūhi specifies that, after

247 Durand, “La religion amorrite”, 495–496. The texts related to the omens announced
by lunar eclipses were edited by Rochberg-Halton, Aspects of Babylonian Celestial Divina-
tion. The following is an example: “If an eclipse happens the 16th day (of the month of Abu
[month v]), the king of the land of Akkad will die” (Rochberg-Halton, Aspects of Babylonian
Celestial Divination, 239, l. 3).
248 See Bottéro, “Le substitut royal”; Parpola, Letters from Assyrian Scholars to the Kings
Esarhaddon and Assurbanipal, XXII–XXXII; and Rochberg-Halton, Aspects of Babylonian
Celestial Divination, 16, n. 61.
249 The living royal substitute played the same role as the substitution statuettes in
other rituals, which were used to absorb the negative energy of the bad omen.
250 Parpola, Letters from Assyrian and Babylonian Scholars, text 352, l. 13–21.
104 michaël guichard and lionel marti

the inhumation of the substitute, it was necessary to burn all his royal
attributes (scepter, throne, table, etc.) and to perform the purification of
the land and of the king.251 In addition, it is also possible that a part of
the purification rites that the king needed to execute could have served
to ease his conscience.252
The fact that Bīt rimki is associated with šar pūhi, and thus with ill omens
announced by an eclipse, shows the strength of the latter. Indeed, other
auspicious manifestations could announce bad omens for the king with-
out making him resort to a substitution ritual. The eclipse was explained
as the victory of demons on the Moon-god (in the case of an eclipse of
the latter); the king thus lost his protectors and the order of the world
was threatened.253 The purification of the sovereign by water was indeed
urged in the ritual of the ‘bad demons-utukkū’ (Utukkū lemnūtu):
Place at his head the wood-er’u (with which one makes) a weapon which
resounds loudly, throw Eridu’s incantation, make the censer (and) the torch
pass over him, purify him with the stoup of pure waters, may it purify and
clean the king, son of his god.254
What distinguished these rituals is thus not their internal composition or
their constitutive elements, since in all cases, we have an arrangement
of rites and incantations drawn from a common stock, which explains
their similarities. Each of these rituals is characterized by its means of
action255 and by its target. For Maqlû, the figurine representing the source
of evil, the sorceress, must be burned. For Šurpu, it is necessary to burn
the different components of the ritual, onto which the patient has trans-
ferred his diverse impurities in order to be rid of them. In the case of Bīt
rimki, diverse sources of possible impurities are purified by water. It is
easy to understand why these long ceremonies could happen regularly
(once a year). They were general rituals against all types of evil, known
or unknown, and could thus be carried out prophylactically, integrat-
ing them into a ritual calendar that became very structured in the first
millennium. Nonetheless, they could also be used in a punctual manner,
as needed. The fact that the king seems most concerned with them is

251 Lambert, “A Part of the Ritual for the Substitute King”, 110, l. 5–8.
252 See Parpola, Letters from Assyrian Scholars to the Kings Esarhaddon and Assurba-
nipal, XXVI.
253 See for example the description of the reasons and of the sequence of events of the
lunar eclipse in Geller, Evil Demons, 251–257.
254 Geller, Evil Demons, 253, l. 88–92.
255 See for example the comments of Bottéro, Mythes et rites de Babylone, 163.
 purity in ancient mesopotamia 105

apparent, but we must also take into account the fact that our documen-
tation comes from a library that expressly gathers documentation aimed
at protecting the king. This illustrates the extreme care that surrounded
the royal person.

4. Conclusion

The difficulty in defining the notions of purity and impurity in the Ancient
Near East comes from the fact that the Mesopotamians themselves have
not passed on to us a ‘code of purity’ but only clues scattered throughout
many varied corpuses, covering all aspects of life and literature. These
notions concern the sacred world as well as the profane, daily documents
as well as literary works.
The Sumerian texts analyzed in the first part of this essay display a
gradation when it comes to purity. In its cultic function, purity aims at
separating the divine from the most varied corrupting agents, so as to
allow for the divine presence within the human world. From that point
of view, purity represents a constitutive principle of world order indepen-
dent of divinity. In its absolute meaning, purity can be seen as opposed
to the cult, which is fundamentally a human endeavor (see Enki and
Ninḫursaĝa), and yet it is also the condition for life. We get the impres-
sion that for the Sumerians, who have written texts describing the world
‘before human beings’, the absence of human activity is understood as a
time ‘before defilement’ yet also as a time ‘before civilization’, which is
now the normal state of life. The organization of human beings, working
for the gods, would thus inevitably introduce into the world both life and
‘the necessity of defilement’. As has been said, existence is indeed a flaw
in the purity of nonbeing. Hence the ambiguity of the impure: it disrupts
the proper order of life, but it also makes it possible. Gudea is here to
remind people that purity is a lost ideal that needs to be restored in some
fashion when human beings are confronted with the necessity of reestab-
lishing their society—by rebuilding the temple—or simply of insuring the
course of their existence.
The cycle of time, in any case, makes use of purity, since the peculiarity
of the living is to defile. This explains why purity constantly needs to be
reactivated through daily rites as well as through monthly or annual fes-
tivities that lead to extremely complex rituals. Purity’s virtues are multiple.
As an ‘act of consecration’, it renders the usual agents of purification—
like water, oil, and some plants, such as the tamarisk or the juniper—
(more) efficient; to put it differently, they become ‘purer than pure’. The
106 michaël guichard and lionel marti

diversity of the vocabulary, which favors the concept of luminosity, as well

as the diversity of the specialists for the rites of lustration and of exor-
cism, whether they were connected with sanctuaries or not, indicates that
the Mesopotamians did not have a monolithic conception of these rites.
The tendency towards the grouping of knowledge in the first millennium
under the appellation išippūtu did not lead to their fusion.
To remain in the earthly realm, a sacred zone needed to be purified
regularly, since it represented a place of contact with the divine world,
whose mark was purity. Thus, temples were purified, and their divine rep-
resentations were washed; the staff had to follow strict rules in order to
avoid defilements and contaminations. According to the conception of
this period, these rites of purification guaranteed the cosmic order and,
thus, the well-being of the inhabitants of the world, among which the
gods come first. Specialists were responsible for fulfilling all these rites,
in an institutional social frame. Additionally, the world of the temple was
a closed reality whose relative isolation protected it from contamination
by impurity.
The profane or ‘normal’ world required no less attention and precau-
tion. Indeed, it was a place where the risks of impurity were more present
and more formidable than in the sacred domain, because in it impurity
was less controllable and the role of ‘chance’ was very important. It was
a world less protected, which admittedly was aware of the rules of ‘savoir
vivre’ but whose strict and total control was impossible. In addition, in
this world, impurity appeared under two forms: one a defilement of daily
life, from which one was cleansed fairly easily, and another, more pro-
found, that touched the core of existence. The cause of impurity could be
sin, transgression, an external attack such as sorcery, even simple contact
with an impure thing or being.
Impurity, in the same manner as fault, provoked divine wrath that
descended upon the victim, who then experienced numerous trials.
Because of that connection, impurity appears now as intimately linked
to the vocabulary of fault; purification happened at the same time as
the elimination of sins. In some cases, this impurity was related to an
unconscious action, which explains why the victim tried first to find out
its cause, involving, if necessary, specialists. Once the cause was unveiled,
all that was required was to fulfill the suitable ritual. If the cause could not
be established with certainty, one resorted to rituals more complex and
allowing access to more expansive fields of pure and impure.
Impurity was regarded as an evil that was in a way unavoidable, that one
could not eradicate but against which one could nonetheless act. Purity
 purity in ancient mesopotamia 107

was the prerogative of the divine world, and people, by their nature, lived
in a universe marked by impurity, even though the gods had given them
the means, through different rituals, to protect themselves against it and
thus to maintain balance in the world. After all, the gods were creators of
the world but also active participants in it.

Bibliography

Abusch, Tzvi. “Witchcraft and Anger of the personal God.” Pages 83–121 in Mesopotamian
Magic Textual, Historical, and Interpretative Perspectives (Ancient Magic and Divination
1). Edited by T. Abusch and K. van der Toorn, Groningen: Styx Publication, 1999.
——. Mesopotamian Witchcraft. Toward a History and Understanding of Babylonian Witch-
craft Beliefs and Literature (Ancient Magic and Divination 5). Leiden: Brill Styx, 2002.
——. “A Neo-Babylonian Recension of Maqlû. Some Observations on the Redaction of
Maqlû Tablet VII and on the Development of Two of Its Incantations.” Pages 1–16 in
Festschrift für Gernot Wilhelm anlässlich seines 65. Geburtstages am 28. Januar 2010.
Edited by J. C. Fincke. Dresden: Islet, 2010.
Alster, Bendt. Proverbs of Ancient Sumer. The World’s Earliest Proverb Collections. Bethesda:
CDL Press, 1997.
Annus, Amar and Alan Lenzi. Ludlul bēl nēmeqi. The Standard Babylonian Poem of
the Righteous Sufferer (State Archives of Assyria Cuneiform Texts 7). Winona Lake:
Eisenbrauns, 2010.
Attinger, Pascal. “Enki et Ninhursaĝa.” Zeitschrift für Assyriologie und Vorderasiatische
Archäologie 74 (1984): 1–52.
——. “La médecine mésopotamienne.” Journal des médecines cunéiformes 11–12 (2008):
1–96.
——. “Notes de lectures: Enki et Ninḫursag̃a.” Notes Assyriologiques Brèves et Utilitaires
2008/71.
Attinger, Pascal and Manfred Krebernik. “L’Hymne à Ḫendursag̃a (Ḫendursag̃a A).” Pages
21–104 in Von Sumer bis Homer. Festschrift für Manfred Shretter (Alter Orient und Altes
Testament 325). Edited by R. Rollinger. Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, 2004.
Averbeck, Richard E. “Temple Building among the Sumerians and Akkadians (Third
Millenium).” Pages 3–32 in From the Foundations to the Crenellations. Essays on Temple
Building in the Ancient Near East and Hebrew Bible (Alter Orient und Altes Testament
Band 366). Edited by M. J. Boda and J. Novotny. Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, 2010.
Behrens, Hermann. Enlil und Ninlil. Ein sumerischer Mythos aus Nippur (Studia Pohl: Serie
Maior 8). Rome: Biblical Institute Press, 1978.
Borger, Rykle. “Das Dritte ‘Haus’ der Serie Bīt rimki (VR 50–51; Schollmeyer HGŠ NR. 1).”
Journal of Cuneiform Studies 22 (1969): 1–17.
——. “Shurpu II, III, IV und VIII in ‘Partitur’.” Pages 15–90 in Wisdom, Gods and Literature.
Studies in Assyriology in Honour of W. G. Lambert. Edited by A. R. George and I. L. Finkel.
Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2000.
Bottéro, Jean. “Le subsitut royal et son sort en Mésopotamie ancienne.” Akkadica 9 (1978):
2–24.
——. Mythes et rites de Babylone. Genève, Paris: Slatkine-Champion, 1985.
Brisch, Nicole M. Tradition and the Poetics of Innovation. Sumerian Court Literature of the
Larsa Dynasty (c. 2003–1763 bce) (Alter Orient und Altes Testament Band 339). Münster:
Ugarit-Verlag, 2007.
Buisson, Gilles. “Turtu et maš‘altu: une nouvelle attestation.” Notes Assyriologiques Brèves
et Utilitaires 2008/79.
108 michaël guichard and lionel marti

Canby, Jeanny Vorys. The “Ur-Nammu” Stela (University Museum Monograph 110).
Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology,
2001.
Caplice, Richard. “Namburbi Texts in the British Museum II.” Orientalia N.S. 36 (1967):
1–38.
Cavigneaux, Antoine. Uruk. Altbabylonische Texte aus dem Planquadrat Pe XVI-4/5 nach
Kopien von Adam Falkenstein (Ausgrabungen in Uruk-Warka Endberichte 23). Mainz am
Rhein: Philipp von Zabern, 1996.
——. “Purification (Mésopotamie).” Pages 1841–1842 in Dictionnaire de l’Antiquité. Edited
by J. Leclant. Paris: Puf, 2005.
Charpin, Dominique. Le clergé d’Ur au siècle d’Hammurabi (XIXe–XVIIIe siècles av. J.-C.)
(Hautes Etudes Orientales 22). Genève: Librairie Droz, 1986.
——. “Histoire politique du Proche-Orient Amorrite (2002–1595).” Pages 25–480 in
Mesopotamien. Die altbabylonische Zeit, Annäherungen 4 (Orbis Biblicus et Orientalis
160/4). Edited by P. Attinger, W. Sallaberger and M. Wäfler. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck
& Ruprecht, 2004.
Chiera, Edward. Sumerian Religious Texts (Crozer Theological Seminary. Babylonian
Publications, Volume 1). Upland: Crozer Theological Seminary, 1924.
Civil, Miguel. “The Forerunners of Marû and Ḫamṭu in Old Babylonian.” Pages 63–71
in Riches hidden in secret places: Ancient Near Eastern studies in memory of Thorkild
Jacobsen. Edited by T. Abusch. Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2002.
Clay, Albert T. Babylonian Records in the Library of J. Pierpont Morgan part IV Epics Hymns
Omens and Other Texts. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1923.
Cohen, Mark E. Sumerian Hymnology: The Eršemma (Hebrew Union College Annual
Supplements Number 2). Cincinnati: KTAV Publisching House, 1981.
——. The Cultic Calendars of the Ancient Near East. Bethesda: CDL Press, 1993.
Conti, Giovanni. “Incantation de l’eau bénite et de l’encensoir.” Mari Annales de Recherches
Interdisciplinaires 8 (1997): 253–272.
Cooper, Jerrold S. The Curse of Agade. Baltimore London: The Johns Hopkins University
Press, 1983.
Durand, Jean-Marie, Archives épistolaires de Mari 1,1 (Archives royales de Mari 26/1). Paris:
Edition Recherche sur les civilisations, 1988.
——. “Quelques remarques sur le vocabulaire de quelques parties du corps.” Pages 65–71
in Médecine et médecins au Proche-Orient ancien. Actes du Colloque International organ-
isé à Lyon les 8 et 9 novembre 2002, Maison de l’Orient et de la Méditerranée (British
Archaeological Reports International Series 1528). Edited by in L. Battini and P. Villard,
Oxford: John and Erica Hedges Ltd, 2006.
——. “La Religion amorrite en Syrie à l’époque des archives de Mari.” Pages 163–703
in Mythologie et Religion des Sémites Occidentaux. Volume I Ebla, Mari (Orientalia
Lovaniensia Analecta 162). Edited by G. Del Olmo Lete. Leuven: Peeters, 2008.
——. “Divination et magie à l’époque amorrite, en Syrie.” Pages 1–21 in Magie et divination
dans les cultures de l’Orient. Actes du colloque organisé par l’Institut du Proche-Orient
Ancien du Collège de France, la Société Asiatique et le CNRS (UMR 7192) les 19 et 20 juin
2008 Paris, Collège de France (Cahiers de l’institut du Proche-Orient Ancien du Collège
de France 3). Edited by J.-M. Durand and A. Jacquet. Paris: Librairie d’Amérique et
d’Orient Jean Maisonneuve, 2010.
——. “Assyriologie.” in Cours et travaux du Collège de France. Résumés 2009–2010. Paris:
Collège de France, 2011. Pages 489–514.
Edzard, Dietz Otto. Gudea and His Dynasty (The Royal Inscriptions of Mesopotamia Early
Periods, Volume 3/1). Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1997.
Edzard, Dietz Otto and Klaus Wilcke. “Die Ḫendursanga-Hymne.” Pages 139–176 in Kramer
Anniversary Volume. Cuneiform Studies in Honor of Samuel Noah Kramer (Alter Orient
und Altes Testament 25). Edited by B. Eichler, J. W. Heimerdinger, A. W. Sjöberg.
Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1976.
 purity in ancient mesopotamia 109

Falkenstein, Adam. Sumerische Götterlieder (Abhandlungen der Heidelberger Akademie

der Wissenschaften. Teil I). Heidelberg: Carl Winter-Universitätsverlag, 1959.
——. “Sumerische religiöse Texte.” Zeitschrift für Assyriologie und Vorderasiatiche
Archäologie 56 (Neue Folge 22) (1964): 44–141.
——. “Fluch über Akkade.” Zeitschrift für Assyriologie und Vorderasiatische Archäologie 57
(1965): 43–124.
Farber, Walter. “Mannam lušpur ana Enkidu: Some New Thoughts about an Old Motif.”
Journal of Near-Eastern Studies 49 (1990): 299–321.
Figulla, Hugo H. and William J. L. Martin. Letters and Documents of Old-Babylonian Period
(Ur Excavations. Texts V) (Publication of the Joint Expedition of the British Museum
and of the University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, to Mesopotamia). London: British
Museum, 1953.
Foster, Benjamin. Before the Muses. An Anthology of Akkadian Literature. Bethesda: CDL
Press, 2005.
Foster, Benjamin and Emmanuelle Salgues. “ ‘Everything except the Squeal’ Pig in Early
Mesopotamia.” Pages 283–291 in De la domestication au tabou. Le cas des suidés au
Proche-Orient ancien (Travaux de la Maison René-Ginouvès 1). Edited by B. Lion and
C. Michel. Paris: De Boccard, 2006.
Frame, Grant and Andrew George. “The royal libraries of Nineveh: New evidence for King
Ashurbanipal’s tablet collecting.” Pages 265–284 in Nineveh. Vol I, Papers of the XLIXe
Rencontre Assyriologique Internationale, London, 7–11 July 2003 (Iraq 67). Edited by
D. Collon and A. George, London: British School of Archaeology, 2005.
Frayne, Douglas R. Presargonic Period (2700–2350 bc) (The Royal Inscriptions of
Mesopotamia. Early Periods Volume 1). Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2008.
Freedman, Sally M. If a City is Set on a Height. The Akkadian Omen Series Šumma Alu ina
Mēlê Šakin. Volume 1: Tablets 1–21 (Occasional Publications of the Samuel Noah Kramer
Fund 17). Philadelphia: Ann Arbor, 1998.
——. If a City is Set on a Height. The Akkadian Omen Series Šumma Alu ina Mēlê Šakin.
Volume 2: Tablets 22–40 (Occasional Publications of the Samuel Noah Kramer Fund 19).
Philadelphia: Ann Arbor, 2006.
Gadd, Cyril J. Cuneiform Texts from Babylonian Tablets in the British Museum. Part XXXIX.
London: British Museum, 1926.
Gadd, Cyril J. and Samuel N. Kramer. Literary and Religious (Ur Excavations. Texts 6.
Volume 1). London: British Museum, 1963.
——. Literary and Religious (Ur Excavations. Texts 6. Volume 2). London: British Museum,
1966.
Geller, Markham J. “Taboo in Mesopotamia.” Journal of Cuneiform Studies 42 (1990):
105–117.
——. “Incipits and Rubrics.” Pages 225–258 in Wisdom, Gods and Literature. Studies in
Assyriology in Honour of W. G. Lambert. Edited by A. R. George and I. L. Finkel. Winona
Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2000.
——. Evil Demons. Canonical Utukkū Lemnūtu Incantation (State Archives of Assyria
Cuneiform Texts 5). Helsinki: Helsinki University Press, 2007.
——. Ancient Babylonian Medicine. Theory and Practice. Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell, 2010.
Glassner, Jean-Jacques. “Ecrire des livres à l’époque paléo-babylonienne: le traité
d’extispicine.” Zeitschrift für Assyriologie und Vorderasiatische Archäologie 99 (2009):
1–82.
Goetze, Albrecht. “An Old Babylonian Prayer of the Divination Priest.” Journal of Cuneiform
Studies 22 (1968): 25–29.
Guichard, Michael. La Vaisselle de luxe des rois de Mari (Matériaux pour le Dictionnaire de
Babylonien de Paris Tome II. Archives Royales de Mari XXXI). Paris: ERC, 2005.
Heeßel, Nils P. Babylonisch-assyrische Diagnostik (Alter Orient und Altes Testament 43).
Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, 2000.
110 michaël guichard and lionel marti

——. “The Babylonian Physician Rabâ-ša-Marduk. Another Look at Physicians and

Exorcists in the Ancient Near East.” Pages 13–28 in Advances in Mesopotamian Medicine
from Hammurabi to Hippocrates. Proceedings of the International Conference “Oeil mal-
ade et mauvais oeil”, Collège de France, Paris, 23rd June 2006 (Cuneiform Monographs
37). Edited by A. Attia and G. Buisson. Leiden: Brill, 2009.
Hunger, Hermann. Astrological Reports to Assyrian Kings (State Archives of Assyria 8).
Helsinki: Helsinki University Press, 1992.
Hurowitz, Victor. “Isaiah’s Impure Lips and Their Purification in Light of Akkadian Sources.”
Hebrew Union College Annual 60 (1989): 39–89.
Izre’el, Shlomo. Adapa and the South Wind. Language Has the Power of Life and Death
(Mesopotamian Civilizations 10). Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2001.
Jean, Cynthia. La magie néo-assyrienne en contexte. Recherches sur le métier d’exorciste et
le concept d’āšipūtu (State Archives of Assyria Studies 17). Helsinkli: Helsinki University
Press, 2006.
Jeyes, Ulla. “Divination as a Science in Ancient Mesopotamia.” Jaarbericht “Ex Oriente Lux”
32 (1991–1992): 22–41.
Katz, Dina.“Enki and Ninḫursag̃ , part one: The Story of Dilmun.” Bibliotheca Orientalis 114
(2007): 568–589.
Köcher, Franz. Die babylonisch-assyrische Medizin in Texten und Untersuchungen (Band III:
Keilschrifttexte aus Assur 3). Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1964.
——. Die babylonisch-assyrische Medizin in Texten und Untersuchungen (Band VI:
Keilschrifttexte aus Ninive 2). Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1980.
Koch, Ulla. “Three Strikes and You’re Out! A View on Cognitive Theory and the First-
Millennium Extispicy Ritual.” Pages 43–59 in Divination and Interpretation of Signs in the
Ancient World (Oriental Institute Seminars 6). Edited by A. Annus. Chicago: University
of Chicago, 2010.
Koch-Westenholz, Ulla. Babylonian Liver Omens. The Chapters manzâzu, padânu and pân
tâkalti of the babylonian extispicy series mainly from Aššurbanipal’s library (Carsten
Niebuhr Institute Publication 25). Copenhagen: Museum Tusculanum Press, 2000.
Krebernik, Manfred. “Die Texte aus Fāra und Tell Abū Ṣalābīh.” Pages 237–427 in
Mesopotamien. Späturuk-Zeit und Frühdynastische Zeit, Annäherungen 1 (Orbis Biblicus
et Orientalis 160/1). Edited by P. Attinger and M. Wäfler. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck &
Ruprecht, 1998.
Labat, René. Hémérologies et ménologies d’Assur. Paris: Librairie d’Amérique et d’Orient
Adrien-Maisonneuve, 1939.
——. Traité akkadien de diagnostics et pronostics médicaux. Leiden: Brill, 1951.
Lambert, Wilfred G. “A Part of the Ritual for the Substitute King.” Archiv für Orient-
forschungung 18 (1957–1958): 109–112.
——. “The Ritual for the Substitute King-a New fragment.” Archiv für Orientforschungung
19 (1959–1960): 119.
——. “Two Notes on Šurpu.” Archiv für Orientforschungung 19 (1959–1960): 122.
Landsberger, Benno, Civil, Miguel and Erica Reiner. A reconstruction of Sumerian and
Akkadian Lexical Lists (Materials for the Sumerian Lexicon 12). Rome: Pontificium
Institutum Biblicum, 1969.
Laessoe, Jorgen. Studies on the Assyrian Ritual and Series bît rimki. Copenhagen: Ejnar
Munksgaard, 1955.
Leichty, Erle. The Omen Series Šumma izbu (Texts from Cuneiform Sources 4). New York:
J. J. Augustin Publisher, 1970.
Lenzi Alan. Secrecy and the Gods. Secret knowledge in Ancient Mesopotamia and Biblical
Israel (State Archives of Assyria Studies 19). Helsinki: Helsinki University Press, 2008.
Lion, Brigitte and Cécile Michel. De la domestication au tabou. Le cas des suidés au Proche-
Orient ancien (Travaux de la Maison René-Ginouvès 1). Paris: De Boccard, 2006.
Livingstone, Alasdair. “The Magic of Time.” Pages 131–138 in Mesopotamian Magic Textual,
Historical, and Interpretative Perspectives (Ancient Magic and Divination 1). Edited by
T. Abusch and K. van der Toorn. Groningen: Styx Publication, 1999.
 purity in ancient mesopotamia 111

Lutz, Henry Frederick. Selected Sumerian and Babylonian Texts (University of Pennsylvania
the University Museum Publications of the Babylonian Section. Volume 1). Philadelphia:
University Museum, 1919.
Maeda, Tohru. “The Agricultural Festivals in Sumer.” Acta Sumerologica 1 (1979): 19–33.
Marti, Lionel. “Les hémérologies néo-assyriennes.” Pages 41–60 in Magie et divination dans
les cultures de l’Orient. Actes du colloque organisé par l’Institut du Proche-Orient Ancien
du Collège de France, la Société Asiatique et le CNRS (UMR 7192) les 19 et 20 juin 2008 Paris,
Collège de France (Cahiers de l’institut du Proche-Orient Ancien du Collège de France
3). Edited by J.-M. Durand and A. Jacquet. Paris: Librairie d’Amérique et d’Orient Jean
Maisonneuve, 2010.
Maul, Stefan. “Gottesdienst im Sonnenheiligtum zu Sippar.” Pages 285–316 in Munuscula
Mesopotamica. Festschrift für Johannes Renger (Alter Orient und Altes Testament 267).
Edited by B. Böck, E. Cancik-Kirschbaum and T. Richter. Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, 1999.
Maul, Stephan M. ‚Herzberuhigungsklagen‘. Die sumerich-akkadischen Eršaḫunga-Gebete.
Wiesbaden: Otto Harrassowitz, 1988.
——. Zukunftsbewältigung. Eine Untersuchung altorientalischen Denkens anhand der bab-
ylonisch-assyrischen Löserituale (Namburbi) (Baghdader Forschungen 18). Mainz: Verlag
Philipp von Zabern, 1994.
——. “How the Babylonians Protected Themselves against Calamities Announced by
Omens.” Pages 123–129 in Mesopotamian Magic Textual, Historical, and Interpretative
Perspectives (Ancient Magic and Divination 1). Edited by T. Abusch and K. van der
Toorn. Groningen: Styx Publication, 1999.
Meier, Gerhard. Die assyrische Beschörungssammlung Maqlû (Archiv für Orientforschung,
Beiheft 2). Berlin, 1937.
Michalowski, Piotr. “The Torch and the Censer.” Pages 152–162 in The Tablet and the Scroll.
Near Eastern Studies in Honor of William W. Hallo. Edited by M. E. Cohen, D. C. Snell and
D. B. Weisberg. Bethesda: CDL Press, 1993.
Parpola, Simo. Letters from Assyrian Scholars to the kings Esarhaddon and Assurbanipal.
Part II Commentary and Appendices (Alter Orient und Altes Testament 5/2). Vluyn:
Verlag Butzon & Bercker Kevelaer, 1983.
——. Letters from Assyrian and Babylonian Scholars (State Archives of Assyria 10). Helsinki:
Helsinki University Press, 1993.
Pedersén, Olof. Archives and Libraries in the Ancient Near East 1500–300 bc. Bethesda: CDL
Press, 1998.
Pientka-Hinz, Rosel. “Angeschmiert!—Die Entweihung einer nadītum-Pristerin.” Alt-
orientalische Forschungen 35 (2008): 254–261.
Pongratz-Leisten, Beate. “Reflections on the Translatability of the Notion of Holiness.”
Pages 409–427 in Of God(s), Trees, Kings, and Scholars. Neo-assyrian and Related Studies
in Honour of Simo Parpola (Studia Orientalia 106). Edited by M. Luukko, S. Svärd and
R. Mattila. Helsinki: WS Bookwell Oy, 2009.
Reiner, Erica. “Lipšur Litanies.” Journal of Near Eastern Studies 15 (1956): 129–149.
——. Šurpu. A Collection of Sumerian and Akkadian Incantations (Archiv für Orientforschung
Beiheft 11). Graz, 1958.
——. “New Cases of Morphophomic Spellings.” Orientalia N.S. 42 (1973): 35–38.
——. “At the Fuller’s.” Pages 407–11 in Vom Alten Orient Zum Alten Testament. Festschrift
für Wolfram Freiherrn von Soden zum 85. Geburstag am 19. Juni 1993. Edited by M. Dietrich
and O. Loretz. Vluyn: Verlag Butzon & Bercker Kevelaer, 1995.
Reisman, Daniel. “A ‘Royal’ Hymn of Išbi-Erra to the Goddess Nisaba.” Pages 357–365 in
Kramer Anniversary Volume. Cuneiform Studies in Honor of Samuel Noah Kramer (Alter
Orient und Altes Testament 25). Edited by B. Eichler, J. W. Heimerdinger, A. W. Sjöberg.
Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1976.
Rochberg-Halton, Francesca. Aspects of Babylonian Celestial Divination: The Lunar Eclipse
Tablets of Enūma Anu Enlil (Archiv für Orientforschung Beiheft 22). Horn: Verlag
Ferdinand Berger & Söhne Gesellschaft M.B.H, 1988.
Römer, Willem H. Ph. Sumerische ‘Königshymnen’ der Isin-Zeit. Leiden: Brill, 1965.
112 michaël guichard and lionel marti

——. Die Klage über die Zerstörung von Ur (Alter Orient und Altes Testament 309).
Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, 2004.
Sallaberger, Walter. Der kultische Kalender der Ur III-Zeit (Untersuchungen zur Assyriologie
und Vorderasiatischen Archäologie. Band 7, Teil 1). Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1993.
——. “Der ‚Ziqqurrat-Plan‘ von Nippur und exorzistische Riten in neusumerischer Zeit.
Einige Anmerkungen.” Pages 609–618 in Ex Mesopotamia et Syria Lux. Festschrift für
Manfried Dietrich zu einem 65. Geburststag (Alter Orient und Altes Testament 281).
Edited by O. Loretz, K. A. Metzler and H. Schaudig. Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, 2002.
——. “The Sumerian Verb na de₅(-g) ‘To Clear’.” Pages 229–253 in “An Experienced Scribe
Who Neglects Nothing.” Ancient Near Eastern Studies in Honor of Jacob Klein. Edited by
Y. Sefati et al. Bethesda: CDL Press, 2005.
——. “Reinheit.” (Reallexikon der Assyriologie und Vorderasiatischen Archäologie 11).
Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 2006–2008: 295–299.
Sallaberger, Walter and Fabienne Huber Vulliet. “Priester” (Reallexikon der Assyriologie
und Vorderasiatischen Archäologie 10). Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 2005: 617–640.
Salonen, Armas. Die Hausgeräte der alten Mesopotamier nach sumerisch-akkadis-
chen Quellen. Teil II: Gefässe (Annales Academiae Scientiarum Fennicae). Helsinki:
Suomalainen Tiedeakatemia, 1966.
Schwemer, Daniel. Abwehrzauber und Behexung. Studien zum Schadenzauberglauben im
alten Mesopotamien. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag, 2007.
Scurlock JoAnn, “Physician, Exorcist, Conjurer, Magician: A Tale of Two Healing
Professionals.” Pages 69–79 in Mesopotamian Magic Textual, Historical, and Interpretative
Perspectives (Studies in Ancient Magic and Divination 1). Edited by T. Abusch and K. van
der Toorn. Groningen: Styx Publication, 1999.
——. “Outfoxing Ninhursag and other Matters.” Notes Assyriologiques Brèves et Utilitaires
2010/31.
Scurlock, Joann and Burton R. Andersen. Diagnoses in Assyrian and Babylonian Medicine.
Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 2005.
Seux, Marie-Joseph. “Pur et impur en Mésopotamie.” Supplément au dictionnaire de la Bible
9, 1975: 452–459.
——. Hymnes et prières aux dieux de Babylonie et d’Assyrie (Littératures anciennes du
Proche-Orient 8). Paris: Les Editions du Cerf, 1976.
Sigrist, Marcel. Larsa Year Names (Institute of Archeology Publications Assyriological
Series. Volume 3). Berrien Springs: Andrews University Press, 1990.
Starr, Ivan. The Rituals of the Diviner (Bibliotheca Mesopotamica 12). Malibu: Undena
Publication, 1983.
——. Queries to the Sungod. Divination and Politics in Sargonid Assyria (State Archives of
Assyria 4). Helsinki: Helsinki University Press, 1990.
Steinkeller, Piotr. “Studies in the Third Millenium Paleograhy, 2. Signs šen and alal.” Oriens
Antiquus 20 (1981): 243–249.
——. “Studies in Third Millenium Paleography, 2. Signs šen and alal: Addendum.” Oriens
Antiquus 23 (1984): 39–41.
Stol, Marten. “Garlic, Onion, Leek.” Bulletin on Sumerian Agriculture 3 (1987): 57–92.
——. “Diagnosis and Therapy in Babylonian Medecine.” Jaarbericht “Ex Oriente Lux” 32
(1991–1992): 42–65.
——. “Psychosomatic Suffuring in Ancient Mesopotamia.” Pages 57–68 in Mesopotamian
Magic Textual, Historical, and Interpretative Perspectives (Studies in Ancient Magic and
Divination 1). Edited by T. Abusch and K. van der Toorn. Groningen: Styx Publication,
1999.
——. Birth in Babylonia and the Bible. Its Mediterranean Setting (Cuneiform Monographs
14). Groningen: Styx Publications, 2000.
——. “Nippur. Altbabylonisch.” (Reallexikon der Assyriologie und Vorderasiatischen
Archäologie 9). Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 2001: 539–544.
——. “Insanity in Babylonian Sources.” Journal des médecines cunéiformes 13 (2009): 1–12.
 purity in ancient mesopotamia 113

Thureau-Dangin, François. Les Cylindres de Goudéa découverts par Ernest de Sarzec à

Tello (Textes cunéiformes, Tome 8, Musée du Louvre—Département des Antiquités
Orientales). Paris: Paul Geuthner, 1925.
Tinney, Steve. The Nippur Lament. Royal Rhetoric and Divine Legitimation in the Reign of
Išme-Dagan of Isin (1953–1935 bc) (Occasional Publications of the Samuel Noah Kramer
Fund 16). Philadelphia, 1996.
van der Toorn, Karel. Sin and Sanction in Israel and Mesopotamia. A Comparative Study
(Studia Semitica Neerlandica 22). Assen: Van Gorcum, 1985.
——. “La pureté rituelle au Proche-Orient ancien.” Revue d‘histoire des religions 206 (1989):
339–356.
van Dijk, Johannes. Sumerische Götterlieder (Abhanlungen der Heildelberger Akademie der
Wissenschaften, Teil II). Heidelberg: Carl Winter. Universitätsverlag, 1960.
——. “VAT 8382. Ein zweisprachiges Königsritual.” Pages 233–268 in Heidelberger
Studien zum Alten Orient Adam Falkenstein zum 17. September 1966. Wiesbaden: Otto
Harrassowitz, 1967.
——. Nicht-kanonische Beschwörungen und sonstige literarische Texte (Vorderasiatische
Schriftdenkmäler der staatlichen Museen zu Berlin 17). Berlin: Akademie Verlag, 1971.
——. “Un rituel de purification des armes et de l’armée: essai de traduction de YBC 4184.”
Pages 107–117 in Symbolae Biblicae et Mesopotamicae Francisco Mario Theodoro de Liagre
Böhl dedicatae. Leiden: Brill, 1973.
——. “Existe-t-il “un poème de la Création” sumérien?” Pages 125–133 in Kramer
Anniversary Volume (Alter Orient und Altes Testament. Band 25). Edited by B. Eichler,
J. W. Heimerdinger, A. W. Sjöberg. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1976.
——. Cuneiform Texts: Texts of Varying Content (Texts in the Iraq Museum 9). Brill:
Leiden, 1976.
van Dijk, Johannes, Albrecht Goetze and Mary Inda Hussey. Early Mesopotamian
Incantations and Rituals (Yale Oriental Series. Babylonian Texts. Volume 9). London:
Yale University Press, 1985.
Vanstiphout, Herman. “Sanctus lugalbanda.” Pages 259–289 in Riches Hidden in Secret
Places. Ancient Near Eastern Studies in Memory of Thorkild Jacobsen. Edited by T. Abusch.
Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 2002.
——. Epics of Sumerian Kings (Society of Biblical Literature. Writings from the Ancient
World. Number 20). Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2003.
Veldhuis, Niek. “On interpreting Mesopotamian Namburbi Rituals.” Archiv für Orient-
forschungung 42–43 (1995–1996): 145–154.
Volk, Konrad. Inanna und Šukaletuda. Zur historisch-politischen Deutung eines sumerischen
Literaturwerkes (Santag 3). Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz Verlag, 1995.
Wagensonner, Klaus. “Nin-isina(k)s Journey to Nippur. A Bilingual divine journey revis-
ited.” Wiener Zeitschrift für die Kunde des Morgenlandes 98 (2008): 277–294.
Walker, Christopher and Michael Dick. The Induction of the Cultic Image in Ancient
Mesopotamia. The Mesopotamian Mīs Pî ritual (State Archives of Assyria Literary. Texts 1).
Helsinki: Helsinki University Press, 2001.
Wilson, E. Jan. “Holiness” and “Purity” in Mesopotamia (Alter Orient und Altes Testament
237). Vluyn: Verlag Butzon & Bercker Kevelear, 1994.
Wright, David P. The Disposal of Impurity. Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1987.
Ziegler, Nele. La population féminine des palais d’après les archives royales de Mari: le harem
de Zimrî-Lîm. Paris: Société pour l’étude du Proche Orient Ancien, 1999.
Zimmern, Heinrich. Beiträge zur Kenntnis der Babylonischen Religion (Assyriologische
Bibliothek 12). Leipzig: J. C. Hinrichs‘sche Bucchhandlung, 1901.
 CONCEPTIONS OF PURITY IN EGYPTIAN RELIGION

Joachim Friedrich Quack

1. Introduction

To say that purity played a major role in Ancient Egyptian culture is

hardly more than a triviality. Nevertheless it must be added that detailed
research on what precisely purity in Ancient Egypt means1 has not yet
reached the levels already seen for other cultures, particularly in terms of,
e.g., Parker’s classical study Miasma or the global analytical approach of
Mary Douglas in her study Purity and Danger.2 Indeed, it is notable how
often dictionary articles are used as the main references, in the absence
of substantial, comprehensive surveys.3 The problem is by no means a
lack of sources, but evidently the opposite. It almost seems that one is
threatened with drowning in the vast sea of relevant texts and images.
The present contribution cannot give a complete overview, but I want to
highlight at least some elements that are of special importance.
There are many sources, but very few are substantial, normative and
explicit at the same time. Basic rules, such as the ones exposed in the
Old Testament, especially in the book of Leviticus,4 are difficult to find—
although I will show, in the course of my analysis, that they did exist and
that there are indeed still fragments of them preserved. But exploration
of these texts is currently in a very preliminary state, so that we are still
forced to reconstruct the core system of Ancient Egyptian purity concepts
according to the isolated traces that it has left here and there.

1 See especially the monograph of Altenmüller-Kesting, “Reinigungsriten”; still important

are older surveys by Blackman, “Sacramental Ideas”; Blackman, “Some Notes”; Blackman,
“House of the Morning”. Gee, “Requirements” offers some general introductory remarks
regarding purification in Egypt, but concentrates primarily on the negative confessions of
the Book of Death, Chapter 125.
2 Parker, Miasma; Douglas, Purity.
3 As, e.g., Blackman, “Purification (Egyptian)”; Meeks, “Pureté et purification”; Gries-
hammer, “Reinheit”, 212–13.
4 See Douglas, Leviticus.
116 joachim friedrich quack

2. Purity and the Temple

2.1. Purity in the Egyptian Rituals for Deities

A temple ritual in Egypt is normally a very complex matter, comprising
several different acts. Certain basic structures allow the modern researcher
to discern a kind of grammar of the Egyptian ritual.
In the sequence of actions, one typical and important position for puri-
fication scenes is at the beginning of a ritual. As a first example, we may
examine the so-called “Daily Temple Ritual”, which is primarily a ritual
for the morning purification and clothing of a cult statue.5 Even the first
act, which opens the ritual according to P. Berlin 3055 and is labeled quite
neutrally “striking fire”, turns out, according to the evidence of its closing
formula, to be a scene more specifically concerned with purity. This is
true of almost all introductory scenes. In the version attested in P. Berlin
3055, scenes 1, 2, 3, 5, 7 and 8 have the typical closing formula of purifi-
cation scenes; later scenes contain only a few examples of this formula.
The purification scenes appear concentrated again at the end of the text,
after the clothing of the statue. To evaluate this structure, we must keep
in mind that the ritual does not contain a substantial meal, unless this is
to be understood in the very last scene6—but it is conceivable that a food
ritual followed it in the sequence of the daily cult.
In the late papyri from Tebtynis, the typical closing formula of purifica-
tion scenes in this section is even more dominant, including a number of
scenes at the beginning of the text that are missing in older manuscripts—
the final part of the ritual is not yet attested in these fragmentary papyri.
Among them, there is at least one spell that can be recognized as a direct
parallel to the ritual for purification of the king mentioned below.7
The structure of the so-called “Ritual of Amenophis” likewise seems
instructive to me. This is an offering ritual attested several times in more
or less detailed versions from the New Kingdom onward.8 Purification
scenes appear, firstly, at the beginning of the text, where the reconstruc-

5 The old edition by Moret, Rituel, is not yet completely replaced. The first part of the
ritual has been restudied by Guglielmi and Buroh, “Eingangssprüche”; important new man-
uscripts are edited by Osing and Rosati, Papiri geroglifici e ieratici, 101–28, pl. 14–16. Overall
remarks in Lorton, “Theology”, 131–45.
6 The word smꜣʿ used in this passage (written like “praising”) is understood as “offering”
in the edition Hieratische Papyri I, 2.
7 Guermeur, “Nouvel exemplaire”.
8 See the survey by Tacke, “Opferritual”.
 conceptions of purity in egyptian religion 117

tion of the transmitted fragmentary text still faces certain difficulties.9

Afterward, we find them when the food offerings are being prepared and
served10 and, finally, also as a burning of incense and libation to Re, prior
to the reversion of offerings on the altar of the king.11
As another example, we may cite the Ritual of Opening the Mouth,
which in the temple sphere is mainly a ritual for the consecration of divine
statues.12 There we find purification scenes, both those with water as well
as those with incense (scenes 1–7), concentrated at the beginning. In sub-
sequent parts of the ritual, even though there are still numerous incense
acts, their purificatory aspect is stressed less. A noticeable use of water
for purifications is discernible at one specific point, directly before the
great food offering. We have, on the one hand, spell 63A, a purification in
the House of the Morning, which in the actual attestations always stands
directly before the king’s offerings in the court of the sun-god (scene 65C).
On the other hand, the purification-focused scenes 67 (purification of the
god’s offerings with libation and incense) and 69A and B (accomplish-
ing the ordinary glorification, pouring water on the altar) come directly
before the great offering list in scene 69C. Similarly, a specific formula for
purifying the offering meal is attested in several temples of the Greco-
Roman period.13
Thus a basic structure can be recognized: purification scenes are usu-
ally placed at the beginning of a ritual, in order to define the place, per-
sons and objects involved as being pure. Within a ritual, purification plays
a particular role where the serving of the food-offering is concerned—
casually said, it may be compared to today’s fast-food restaurants, where
the waiter cleans the table when a new guest arrives. Such daily, routine
aspects should not be considered irrelevant.
A peculiar feature of the wording of purity formulae requires explana-
tion. The typical closing phrase of such a spell is the final ḥtp-č̣i-nsw ı͗w⸗ı͗
͂
wʿb.kw “a king’s offering; I am pure”. The expression “a king’s offering” is
otherwise quite usual in an offering ritual, but it always introduces material
objects, especially food but also cutlery, ointment or clothing. From this
feature we can probably conclude that purity has a quasi-material quality

9 Scenes 10 and 11 (libation and fumigation), in particular, are important.

10 Scenes 24–29 in Tacke, “Opferritual”.
11 Scenes 42 and 43 in Tacke, “Opferritual”.
12 Otto, Mundöffnungsritual; Quack, “Fragmente”. For the question of the scene
sequence, see Quack, “Prätext”.
13 Goyon, “Formule solennelle”.
118 joachim friedrich quack

and that the king officially permits the performance and acknowledges
the efficacy of purification as well as the giving of food and endowment as
royal favors. The question of purity in proximity to the king, which I will
discuss below, may also be connected with that point.
The typical combination in actual practice is the pouring of water and
the fumigation with incense. Alongside that, there is a purification with
natron, which of course is normally part of the water pouring, as natron
is dissolved in water. These are the usual purification substances, and
all others must be classified as unusual. At times we must also take into
account that purification with, e.g., lapis lazuli (e.g., Dendara VIII 92, 2)
indicates only purification with water poured out of a jar made of this
substance.14
As a special case regarding terminology, in particular for purifying sub-
stances, it should be noted that the verb swʿb “to purify” is sometimes
used in the sense “to decorate” (WB IV, 67, 2–3). Especially noticeable is
the postscript to the Book of the Dead, chapters 30B+64 and 140, which
are recited over amulets (a scarab and an Udjat-eye, respectively) said to
be made of precious stones and literally “purified with gold”,15 meaning
in concrete terms, as archaeological finds show,16 a setting in gold. In any
case, this expression demonstrates that Egyptians classified gold as a sub-
stance with purifying power. This should be understood in light of the fact
that gold was also considered to be the flesh of the gods.17

2.2. Purity as Condition for Access to the Temple

The Egyptian temple is a system with zones of increasingly limited access.
This is a matter not only of purity as such but of authorized access only for
certain classes of priests. Here the ontological question must be asked: do
consecrations linked to a specific higher class of priests imply a possible
degree of purity that would not be achievable without these consecra-
tions, that is, simply by keeping purification regulations as such?

14 Compare the figure in Dendara VIII, pl. DCCLXXIX, where the priest in question
holds a sistrum and a jar in his hands.
15 For purification with gold in the Greek area, see Parker, Miasma, 228.
16 See e.g. Quirke, “Heart Scarabs”.
17 Compare Schott, Kanais, 150; 169–70. No in-depth treatment appears in the section
about gold in Aufrère, Univers minéral, 353–406.
 conceptions of purity in egyptian religion 119

The access rules are laid out most clearly in the Book of the Temple;18
therefore, I would like to present the most important passages from it.
The architectural section, which gives a description of the temple from
the inner- to the outermost parts, is especially relevant. The first of the
relevant entries is unfortunately in a badly preserved description of the
interior part of the temple building, perhaps in a section where the sanc-
tuary and then the central halls were first mentioned. There, it is said:
“[No] man [enters] them, apart from the prophets [of this] house(?)”. The
next note is much better preserved. In it, the pronaos is defined as the last
of the interior rooms, where space is also provided for the gatekeepers.
Here we are told: “Now the whole temple is marked off with buildings in
its square. No person is admitted into it, apart from those who serve as
high-ranking priests for the gods’ rituals”.
Beyond the rules for priests, the building section of the Book of the
Temple also gives information on buildings in the open outer court,
which is marked off by a pylon; here we find, among other structures,
“The ‘house of the morning’, in order to perform the purification of pha-
raoh in [it] when he enters the temple”. The next court, located further
outside, is called the “court of the assembly”, which, of course, implies
more general access. Nevertheless it should be noted that “assembly” (mšʿ)
can also be the name of a group performing the common cultic practice,
suggesting that perhaps only men with institutional affiliation with the
temple are envisaged. Here as well it is said, “A room is in it in order to
perform the purifying of the king when he enters the temple”. The third
court is defined as the location of a certain group, unfortunately lost in a
break but obviously not included in the word “assembly”. Either women
or non-priest inhabitants of the city are possibilities.
Special strict regulations for access are stipulated for the Osirian part
of the temple. Only a few ritual specialists had access here; if someone
unauthorized was caught, he would be treated as someone who had blas-
phemed the king, namely, he would be executed and placed on the fire
altar. We can debate whether the decisive matter is just purity or whether
there are other factors at play. Osiris is the endangered god, and there is
also a high risk of abuse with regard to the figurines deposited in Osirian
areas, which have considerable power as they are a god’s substance.

18 I am currently working on this comprehensive handbook; see, as preliminary reports,

especially Quack, “Buch vom Tempel”; Quack, “Manuel du Temple”; Quack, “Organiser le
culte”; Quack, “Les normes pour Osiris”.
120 joachim friedrich quack

The most substantial currently published source concerning rules of

purity and access to temples is an inscription in the temple of Esna. There,
a long digression on the question of who has access under which condi-
tions and where is intercalated into a description of the sequence of a
temple ritual.
Everybody, moreover, has to be pure from a woman in a purification (period)
of one day, they shall purify them and moisten their clothes. Do not let any-
body enter who suffers from god’s anger or leprosy! Their position is in the
surroundings of the temple. One should open the jar of this . . . to the left and
the right of the dromos by everybody who is pure from a woman in a puri-
fication (period) of nine days. Whoever opens the jar within the (perimeter
of ) the water which is around his temple, they shall sit to the right and to
the left, whereas it is not allowed that they lie down.
Performing of jubilation cries (?) in its interior by everybody. No per-
son shall enter with the fur of a sheep around him. No craftsperson shall
enter into it. The position of the city-dwellers is the wall of the temple, they
should not enter onto the quay. Performing the offering on the altar of this
honorable god by the prophets, the priests and all service staff of the temple.
Whoever wears a hairstyle of grief does not enter into this temple! Shaving,
nail clipping and combing is what ( justifies) entering into it. All fine linen
as a dress is what ( justifies) entering into it. Natron water is what (justifies)
settling down in it. As for all having allowance to enter it, they should be
pure from a woman in a purification (period) of nine days and should not
have eaten any taboo in a purification (period) of four days. As for anybody
wishing to enter the temple or who has to do some work there, he shall
have shaved his limbs and clipped his nails, and let him pray to the god at
the dromos in the position of the city-dwellers while the service staff of the
temple stands beside him and says: ‘Be pure from a woman in a purification
(period) of nine days and of each taboo in a purification (period) of four
days’. If he acts this way, he can enter the temple at the door which is at
the side of the pylon tower, after purifying himself as well as his clothes in
the lake. Do not let any Asiatic/shepherd enter the temple, be he a small or
a large one! Do not let any woman get close to all his surrounding within an
area of 200 arourae. An island is at each side, so that you will not overstep
it for 15 measure cords (of one hundred cubits) in the south and the north,
15 in the west and east. Their position is the causeway, it should not be
overstepped to the north to the Golden one of Ai, to the south, west and
east to the marsh of Khenit. Be careful about it! Beware of it! The king is in
his good state, the whole country is free from calamity. Who is insistent in
that will have worth; woe betide the one who commits an outrage against
this! (Esna 197, 16–21)19

19 Sauneron, Les fêtes religieuses d’Esna, 340–49; Leitz, Tempelinschriften, 77–81.

 conceptions of purity in egyptian religion 121

The varying terms of abstinence and of purification from different pollu-

tions find a remarkable echo in a Greek inscription from Megalopolis in
which such criteria are defined, in that case for access to the temple of
Isis and of Serapis.20
In a hieroglyphic inscription from Philae, at the door of the northeast
corner of the court between the first and second pylons, regulations for
access are expressed as an address to the doorkeepers. The announcement
states, among other things, what kind of plants and animals a person is
not allowed to eat if he wishes to be able to enter the temple.21
O door keepers who are in this temple,
Powerful ones of the throne who are in their monthly service,
Those offices which will be in the hall,
Carrying out their duties without ceasing,
They are those who will be pure in the days,
Who will eat from the pure place of preparing foodstuff !
Those are the taboos, which you should not eat,
Which are not allowed to come near to the inner part of the temple:
ʿf, č̣ꜣı͗s, bı͗ꜣ, mꜣ(t), ḳṭ.t, ḫt-ṭs, red onions, ı͗nk, nš, gmi,
Donkeys, dogs, ʿmꜣʿ, small cattle! ͂
Do not be indulgent with big and small
Concerning the state of this temple!
If something bad comes about to happen against this temple,
Then it happens against Upper and Lower Egypt,
Then each god will get angry against his place.
One should not overstep the way of one’s house,
Without decaying, without fading away for eternity.

O door keepers of this temple,

Hourly priests of the temple doing their duty!
You should not let any person from the outside enter into the sanctua[ry]!,
Who do not know [. . .],
Who fight against that which comes out of the mouth of the prophet,
Likewise any overseer.
Concerning the one who wants to enter, they should come out in front of
you,
So that no-one from the outside is with him.
This means all things which will enter in front of you!
Beware of things in contamination (sꜣt),
So that nobody will enter these halls,

20 Bricault, Recueil, 42–43; similar, but in a more general way, also in an inscription
from Eleusis, page 29–30.
21 Junker, “Vorschriften”; Aufrère, “Végétaux interdits”.
122 joachim friedrich quack

Except in order to fulfill his service, unseen and unheard(?)!22

Beware of possessions from theft!
(Even if ) nobody will be caught due to his (other) misdoing,
He will still be brought (to court) because of a case of the temple!
In order to grasp . . .
The staff of treasury which is in the temple
Is informed about what happens to him.
If there happens anything good for the temple,
Then the god at his place is a peaceful god,
And he puts this country into its correct state,
He embellishes the fate in the temple.
In any case, an image of the king who solemnly says “everything that
enters the temple should be pure, pure” is an often-attested element of
temple decoration, precisely in the areas of entry and passageways.

3. Purity for the Priest

If, as mentioned above, purity plays a major role in the cult of the gods, it
is obvious that the priest would be subject to certain purification rules.23
Indeed this can plainly be shown by the fact that the normal word for
priest, namely wʿb, is a derivation of the root wʿb “to be pure”; it is, by the
way, still used as ⲟⲩⲏⲏⲃ for designating Christian priests in the Coptic
language.
The purification rules for priests are best documented in instances
when they were not kept. In the so-called Elephantine scandal, a denun-
ciation dating to the 20th dynasty against a priest who is accused of sev-
eral offenses, it is also written:
Indictment that he walked into the cella of the fortress while it was (only)
six days of drinking of natron which he had done, and the scribe of the trea-
sury Montherchepsch imposed an oath upon this prophet of Chnum with
the words ‘I won’t let him enter to this god until he completes his days of
drinking natron’, and he did not listen to him and entered to the god while
he still had (to complete) four days of drinking natron. (RAD 75, 4–8)
This shows the obligation of drinking natron for ten days in order to have
access to the god’s statue in a state of cultic purity.

22 The text seems to be transmitted in quite a bad way; Junker’s “which no one else
should see” is impossible, as nb can never be constructed as a substantive. I assume the
common formula n mꜣꜣ n sč̣m.
23 See with a special focus Musso and Pettacchi, “Sexual Taboos”.
 conceptions of purity in egyptian religion 123

The ostracon Narmouthis 109, from the later Roman period, also men-
tions a priest who was still in a state of incomplete purification when a
certain document was brought; he did not become pure until the next
day.24 Unfortunately the exact duration of the period of purification can-
not be determined, but a fixed term is nevertheless certain.
In principle, certain Roman-period hieratic papyrus fragments in which
a handbook with rules for temple services is preserved would be of major
relevance. This text, which is not the Book of the Temple itself but which
bears some similarity to it, is transmitted in P. Carlsberg 386 + P. Berlin
14938, and possibly also in Greek translation in P. Washington University
+ P. Oslo 2 vs.25 It is a collection of laws and regulations relevant for the
temple and some priestly groups, in which elaborate norms are fixed for
the priests, especially those of high rank. Only certain clothing is allowed
for access into a temple, as are only certain kinds of food for the prophet.
As soon as it becomes possible to sort the fragments into more complete
sections, substantial progress in understanding Egyptian cultic purity can
be expected from them.
Much better known among researchers are hieroglyphic temple-access
texts.26 They appear quite typically in passageway settings, i.e., mostly as
inscriptions on doorjambs, where they indicate the rules governing passage
into an area of more restricted access, for example, an important route to
the offering altar. Different stylizations are attested, such as admonitory
speeches concerning what the entering priests had to avoid. In addition
to the interdiction of impurity, different kinds of moral misconduct are
also highlighted. Such forms are known, e.g., from the temples of Edfu
and Kom Ombo:
O prophets, god’s fathers, ritual leaders, god’s purifiers, high-ranking priests,
all those Having access who enter to the god,27 all governors in their monthly
service, War-Priests,28 ‘In-the-earth’-priests in the house of the forms, who
have access to the Temple in great Purity, in order to prepare the ointment
of the first feast, those who purify themselves for Performing the god’s ritu-
als every day, those who purify Themselves at the first day, in order to let
the god appear at his time of his navigation feasts!

24 Menchetti, Ostraka, 49–50.

25 See Quack, “Buch vom Tempel”, 18–19; Quack, “Translating the Realities”.
26 Gutbub, Textes fondamentaux, 144–84; Leitz, Tempelinschriften, 36–42; compari-
son with biblical texts in Weinfeld, “Instructions”. For later traditions, see Grieshammer,
“Unschuldserklärungen”.
27 The Edfu version adds here “all lector-priests”.
28 From here onwards, only the titles at Kom Ombo are given.
124 joachim friedrich quack

Do not introduce in trespassing!

Do not enter in a state of grime (sꜣt)!
Do not tell lies in his house!
Do not snatch through calumny!
Do not accept any list(?)
In being partisan against the small for the great!
Do not add to the weight and to the measuring rope,
And you shall not detract from them!
Do not change arbitrarily in the grain measure!
Do not hurt the bushel of the eye of Re!29
Do not reveal what you have seen in privacy
Of all secrets of the gods and goddesses!30
Do not stretch out your arm for possession in his temple!
Do not take any liberty to steal his possession!
Beware lest a fool says in is heart:
‘One lives by the food of the gods’!
One designates as ‘food’ what is coming from the offering altar in circulation,
After the god has satisfied himself with it.
He sails in heaven; he crosses the celestial vault,31
While his eyes lie on his possessions at their location.

Do not do anything bad against the servant of his house!

He loves his servants very much!
Do not have any sexual intercourse under pressure!
Do not impose any condemnation!
Do not exert any violence against the people in the fields and in the city,
Because they came out of his eyes,
They originated from him!
His heart is very sad about injustice in punishing,
If there is no witness(?).32

Do not run with your soles,

Do not be short-tempered in a moment!
Do not give your mouth free run in a discussion!
Do not react with loud voice against the voice of somebody else!
Do not impose any oath over something!
Do not prefer the lies against the truth in a complaint!
Beware that you are not (too) big when passing your service times(?)!

There is none who complains against him

Who is free of being punished for something.

29 The grain measure is understood as the eye of Re in Egypt; see recently Quack,
review of Lippert, Demotisches juristisches Lehrbuch, 173 with references.
30 Variant in Edfu: “at all secrets in the sanctuary”.
31 Variant in Edfu: “the underworld”.
32 This whole paragraph is only attested at Edfu.
 conceptions of purity in egyptian religion 125

Do not sing in his house in the inner part of the temple at the location of
the women!
Do not do anything at a place where it should not be done,
So that there is not a party taking place in his house,
But only at the place in front of which it is allowed to sing
By the entity(?) of the staff(?)!
Do not open the jar in the inner part of the temple,
So that you will not be drunk from it!33

Do not anything according to your heart,

But you should look at the old writings!
Pass the directions of the temple in your hands
As an instruction for your children!” (Kom Ombo, text 878 with parallel in
Edfu III, 360, 12–362, 4)34
Another stylization is that the officiant—on an ideal level the king in
this role—explains to the doorkeepers—on an ideal level the gods in this
role—that he did not do certain condemnable things.
O Gods in [. . .], in [Upper] and Lower Egypt,
Door-keepers of the big gateway,
Great Gods being secret of place in Edfu,
Who segregate the god in his chapel,
Who strike on his offering altar,35
Who receive offering food at his side in the hall of the ennead!36
Make way for me, so that I enter with you!
I am one of you,
I am Shu, the oldest of his father,
The high-ranking priest of him with spotted feathering,
Priest [. . .]
O great gods [. . .] of [. . .]
You should [not deter] me from the way of the god,
My legs shall not be opposed,
I will not be kept away from the enclosure of Ta-Wer,
That I will give orders about the god’s substance,
That I give offerings to the one who created them,
That I give bread to Horus [. . .]
[. . .]
Not [. . .] on the way of god.

33 This paragraph is only attested in Edfu.

34 Alliot, Culte d’Horus, 184–186; Fairman, “Worship”, 201; Gutbub, Textes fondamen-
taux, 144–84; Kurth, Treffpunkt der Götter, 148–49.
35 So the orthography of the inscription; the phraseology would be more in favor of
“who hit with his scepter”.
36 In my opinion, against the translation by Alliot, only participles, not imperatives,
can be read here.
126 joachim friedrich quack

I have not been partisan in the judgment,

I have not allied with the strong one,
I have not convicted the weak one,
I have not led things in a violent manner,
I have not decreased the parts of the eye of [Re(?)],37
I have not [. . .] with the hand scale,
I have not committed an outrage against the bushel of the god’s eye!
Council38 of the great god in this house,
Great ones who are sitting on the mat,
Messengers who [. . .] in a hurry!
Behold, I have come to you, in order to do the truth for the master of the
truth,
To satisfy the Udjat-eye for his master.
I am Shu, who is furnishing his offering-table prosperously,
So that I pile up his offerings.
Tefnut is united with me,39
That I adore Behedet40 at his feasts,
That I kiss the earth because of the greatness of his esteem,
That I unite life with his divine power.
I am a priest, I am pure! (Edfu III, 78, 10–79, 4)41

O Door-keepers, great Gods, masters of the flame, with long rays,

Who open the door-wings of heaven and illuminate the two countries,
Guardians [. . .] Upper and Lower Egypt,
Who stand and sit at the right and at the left,
Kings of Upper and lower Egypt of the south and the north,
Venerable ones of the gods!
I have come to you, great gods,
After Horus has purified me,
After Thot has perfumed me with incense.
Make way for me so that I can pass!
I have come on the way of the god,
I have entered praised and have emerged loved,
There are no male and female adversaries on my path.
You cannot detain me, you cannot restrain me.
The ram is my witness, the ram of the rams is my witness.
I am Thot, the Great, the deputy of Re.
I have come in order to accomplish rituals,
The two male baboons are at my right,

37 This refers to grain measures, see above note 29.

38 Against Alliot’s reading ḥs nčr.w, read certainly č̣ꜣč̣ꜣ.t.
39 The sister of Shu. I read Tfn.t sḫn.tı͗ r-ḥnʿ⸗ı͗. Alliot ignores the sign of the lion-headed
goddess and creates an impossible syntactic structure.
40 The cultic name of the city Edfu.
41 Edited by Alliot, Culte d’Horus, 142–43.
 conceptions of purity in egyptian religion 127

The two female baboons are at my left.

O those who live from [. . .],
Who endow the altars with food!
I do not diminish the offering bread,
I do not do painful things.
I have not made any dirt.
Horus is my purity.
My hands are Horus,
My arms are Thot,
I have brought the Udjat-eye to his master,
I have put Maat in her place.
I am a prophet,
It is the king who has sent me to see the god.
A king’s offering, I am pure. (Edfou III, 83, 2–11)42
The fact that Egyptian priests underwent a purification with water in con-
nection with access to the sanctuary is well documented in temple reliefs,
e.g., at the bark sanctuary (“Chapelle Rouge”) of Hatschepsut from the
18th dynasty.43
The neo-platonic philosopher Porphyrios has transmitted a long
excerpt from the treatise of the Egyptian priest Chairemon in his book
about abstinence from carnal food, in which the ideal and ascetic life of
the Egyptian priests is described (De abstinentia IV 6–8).44 With regard to
the food, for example, some of the priests would abstain from any kind of
food deriving from a living creature, and all of them abstained from ani-
mals with cloven hoof, from meat-eating birds, and from a large number
of special cases, such as female cows.
At this point it is relevant to pinpoint more precisely the chronologi-
cal development. The typical pictures of shaven-headed priests appear
only in the course of the New Kingdom; for example, at the sanctuary of
Hatschepsut they are still shown with wigs. In contrast, from the Ramesside
Period onward, depictions of priests with hairless heads become common.
This could be a sign that purity restrictions had become stricter at this
time, or at least that more value was attached to demonstrating them visi-
bly to the outside. Still, it should be noted that there are already occasional
depictions of people with shaven heads in the Late Middle Kingdom, even
though their titles do not clearly link them to priesthood.45 By far the

42 Edited by Alliot, Culte d’Horus, 144–45.

43 See Burgos and Larché, Chapelle Rouge, 212 (left) and 216.
44 Horst, Chaeremon, 16–23; Patillon, Segonds and Brisson, Porphyre, 9–13.
45 See e.g. Habachi, Heqaib, pl. 162–63 and 166–67 (a warden of the chamber and a
retainer); Wildung, Ägypten 2000 v. Chr., 137 and 152 (a vizier and a beer brewer).
128 joachim friedrich quack

most explicit ones among the textual sources are very late texts, mostly
from the Graeco-Roman period.

4. Purity for the King and the Palace

The above-mentioned places for the purification of the king in the temple
lead us to the next complex. The person of the king was strongly con-
nected to purity concerns in Egypt.46 Indeed, there exists a detailed royal
ritual focused on purification rites. In full form it is transmitted in at least
four different papyri, of which only one is published.47 All of these manu-
scripts date to Roman times, when in Egypt itself there was no longer a
pharaoh who could have used them, raising the question of the extent to
which they were really used, perhaps adapted for priests. More substantial
sections, obviously from the same ritual, are already to be found in some
scenes of temples in Ptolemaic times, especially in Edfu.48 A single scene
already has a parallel in a spell that has been incorporated into a relatively
unusual Book of the Dead in the New Kingdom (P. Busca).49 Another has
nearly verbatim parallels in a royal ritual conveyed in a papyrus from
approximately the 26th dynasty (or at most the 27th dynasty), as well as
a shortened and adapted version for a goddess in a scene of the temple
of Dendera (Dendara IV 249, 16–17).50 Although I am not able to treat
the history of the tradition in all its complexity, I would like to suggest
that this is presumably a substantial and long-standing ritual. Indeed, this
text could easily be the longest and most explicit text of all concerning
purification and its attainment in a ritual in Egypt. Therefore it should be
presented in as full a form as possible:
First spell
Poorly preserved

Second spell
Poorly preserved

46 Smith, “Kingship”.
47 Schott, Reinigung Pharaos; for the Tebtynis manuscripts and for global interpreta-
tion, see Quack, “Königsweihe”, 97–99.
48 Noted in Schott, Reinigung Pharaos, 60–64.
49 Crevatin, Libro dei morti, 50–51.
50 Goyon, Confirmation, 53 and 84.
 conceptions of purity in egyptian religion 129

Third spell (restored from parallels):

Spell for the water
O Water, may you abolish all bad defilement of the pharaoh,
O inundation, may you wash off his errant demons.
May you wash the face of Horus,
May you rub the face of Seth,
May you wash the face of Neith,
May you rub the face of her spinners,
May you yourself rub the face of the pharaoh
As the face of the king when he bedecks his crown!
Loosened are the bands of the pharaoh through Horus,
Opened are his bands through Seth.
His purity is the purity of his god.
He shall not fall on some evil obstacle!
A king’s offering, Pharaoh is pure.

Fourth spell
Spell for water, speaking words [by . . .]
[O you Gods . . .,
Come] that you [erase] all evil in him.
Any taboo he did, [. . .] at the lake!
His mouth . . .
His purity is the purity of Horus—and reverse,
His purity is the purity] of Seth—and reverse,
His purity is the purity of Dun-Awi—and reverse,
His purity is the purity of the Djed-pillar—[and reverse,
...
. . .] Pharaoh his purity.
A king’s offering; Pharaoh is pure.

Fifth spell
Poorly preserved

Sixth spell (restored from parallels)

. . ., speaking words by [. . .] the great council which is in [. . .].
Purification of the mouth of pharaoh with [. . .]
[. . .] whose amulet is made out of shiny stone,
Who settles on the gates of the horizon,
Who is without stain [. . .]
[. . .], who follows Re at the place [. . .]
Who lives without wounds of his.
The purity of the pharaoh is the purity of this female vulture [. . .]
[. . .] that means to save him from . . . [in] any council . . .
[. . .]

Seventh spell
Poorly preserved
130 joachim friedrich quack

Eighth spell
Another spell for purification, speaking words:
Pharaoh has [purified himself] with the great waters
Which come forth from Elephantine, which originate from the [primeval
ocean].
He has [purified] himself with the eye of Horus,
He has purified himself with its own substance.
Isis has purified him as she has purified her son Horus in Chemmis.
[He] is the one, prestigious in his dignity (?) in truth,
He is Thot who purified himself with his own substance,
[as] Re purified himself with his own substance.
He has perfumed himself with incense, natron is adhering to his limbs.
Pharaoh is Horus in Chemmis.
To be spoken on four pellets of incense, four pellets of natron, putting them
into water in a new bowl, to put a falcon of wax into it and some [. . .]
that means [. . .].

Ninth spell (parallel in P.Busca and for a part also in the “gold amulet” text)
Another spell for purification
A papyrus amulet of ore of the goddess is for pharaoh,
Abolished is [all evil] from his head (?).
The eye of Horus rests in its place,
Secured for pharaoh as protection of his head.
[Pharaoh did come] from the grove,
He has swallowed its fruits.
He has received his head, he has united his bones,
He has washed himself; abolished is what (evil) was adhering to him.
His purity is the one of Min from Coptos,
As he counted his eyes as double feather,
And his voice was justified through it.
His purity is the purity of a little calf at its milk,
The day its mother gave birth to it.
His purity is the purity of the way-opener,
As he let his eyes move up to his face, (?) as uraei,
And he set them on his head as Isdes.
Thot purifies the head of the pharaoh, his mouth with water jars,
He has secured it with jars of water,
He has purified it with gushing water,
He has perfumed him with incense coming from Punt.
Pharaoh follows Horus so that he lives,
He follows Atum and endures.
Horus has protected him, Atum has ascertained him,
Geb has abolished all evil from him,
Horus has abolished from him all evil adhering to him (?).
The arms of Isis are a stronghold for pharaoh against all evil,
It shall not come against him,
 conceptions of purity in egyptian religion 131

It shall not rise against him in eternity.

He has united with the Horus eye-
Variant: the Horus eye is well-disposed towards him,
It shall not rise up against him!

May you awake in peace,

May the ore awake in peace!
Horus purifies himself with him,
Seth purifies himself with him,
Thot purifies himself with him,
Dun-Awi purifies himself with him,
The Djed-pillar purifies himself with him.
May they abolish with it the evil adhering to themselves!
Pharaoh purifies himself with him,
May he abolish with it the evil adhering to him!
He enters into it with the cast-off (garment),
He comes out from it with his jaded (garment).
You have dressed what is at his head,
You have clothed what is at his feet,
You have clothed what is at his bottom,
You have clothed what is at his arms,
You have clothed what is in all his dreams,
In that night when he saw himself at this his place.
Pharaoh is purified with this water which came out from Osiris,
He has provided his bones with what belongs to him.
A king’s offering; Pharaoh is pure.
Words spoken over a papyrus amulet of ore, put into water, purifying the
king with it.

Tenth spell
Another spell of purification which is done for the king.
Hail to you, you four gods who are in the primeval ocean!
Pharaoh has come to you, arisen in the inundation.
Pharaoh has opened the flood with his wings,
He has opened the cavern with his horns,
He has crossed the islands in the water of Horus.
He has purified himself with his magic,
He settled down(?) at the shore of the primeval ocean,
. . . the shape of Tatenen.
The impurity (ʿbw) of the pharaoh shall be upwards(?),
His evil shall belong to the shore,
What he dislikes shall be in the water,
Swimming . . .
He has repelled his enemy when he rose in it.
He has thrown down his enemy.
132 joachim friedrich quack

Pharaoh is Horus in the primeval ocean,

No dead man’s spirit has power over him.51
The gods are satisfied with the purity of the pharaoh,
When the magical formulae are recited [. . .]52
[O . . .], whose glow is a fire,
And his flame a torch53 in the eyes of all his enemies among the dead and
alive ones, etc.
Pharaoh is pure, he has unified with his Ka in . . . of the Kas,
Pharaoh is pure,
As the four gods in the primeval water [are purified and have] unified with
their Ka.
Pharaoh knows them and knows their names,
In their manifestation, in their natures, in their shapes, in their limbs.54
[“Osiris who satisfies Re] with his truth” is the name of the one,
He is pure, purified on his portico(?).
“Tatenen” is the name of the next one,
He is pure, purified on his elevation.
[“The light in] its [perfection”] is the name of the next one,
He is pure, purified on his hill.
“He has taken hold of himself ”55 is the name of the next,
He is pure, purified on his shore.

Pharaoh now is “Osiris who satisfies Re with his truth”,

He is pure, purified on his portico(?).
Pharaoh now is “Tatenen”,
He is pure, purified on his elevation.
Pharaoh now is “The light in its perfection”,56
He is pure, purified on his hill.
Pharaoh now is “He has taken hold of himself ”,
He is pure, purified on his shore.
Pharaoh has crossed the things(?) in the primeval ocean,
He has purified himself in the primeval ocean.
Water is on pharaoh,
No dead man’s spirit(?) can encroach on him,57

51 Compare Quack, Merikare, 89, for the meaning. Schott’s mistaken translation “Death
has no power over him” has led to the assumption that this is an ontological statement
that death developed after creation and therefore had no power over the primeval water
and the people in it; this reading has unfortunately also been received in Hornung, Eine
und die Vielen, 170 note 119; Assmann, Totenliturgien, 544.
52 In P. Carlsberg 658 ḫft nı͗s.tw ꜣ.w is clear; traces of that are also found in the Berlin
papyrus.
53 According to the photograph, read against Schott tkꜣ.w, not tꜣ.w.
54 Addition according to P. Carlsberg 658.
55 Read mḥ⸗f ı͗m⸗f č̣s⸗f against Schott’s mḥt ı͗m⸗f č̣s⸗f.
56 Read pr-ʿꜣ ʿnḫ (w)č̣ꜣ s(nb) pw ı͗r⸗f šww m nfr.w⸗f.
57 I read nn ḫm [mwt] ı͗m⸗f; the determinative of the dying man is still preserved at the
beginning of line 3, 9.
 conceptions of purity in egyptian religion 133

His impurity does not exist.

A king’s offering, pharaoh is pure.
To recite upon four figures of the inundation god, in their shape (bs) and
their form (ḳmꜣ) during [. . .], liquid of every [. . .] in them. To go around
the king, [every single one . . .], purify on all limbs(?) of the king. To speak
words, to abolish impurity, abolishing of impurity, male and female dead
man’s spirits, male and female enemies, male and female opponents.
This book has been made by the Lord of All when he purified his limbs(?)
after the evil impurity of men, gods, glorified and dead ones.

Eleventh spell
Another spell for purification, words to be spoken.
Pharaoh is Re, arising in the primeval ocean,
[His] purity is [the purity of . . . in the] water,
With big flame . . .
Great illuminator when he shows himself in the flood in the morning,
Who abolishes all evil, as he arises in his purity from the flood.
May pharaoh arise in the flood(?). . . .
. . . shine . . . pharaoh . . .
May he be divine in the earth!
Those who are in the primeval ocean shall not upset him,
. . . shall not . . . him . . .

Here there occurs a break of continuity in the script. A direct sequence is,
against Schott, anything but certain. The text begins in the midst of an instruc-
tion for action.

[. . .] together with this statue. Blowing by khenu-sa-priest. One says ‘rais-

ing of the hands’ [. . .] of the king, right to right, [left to left]. His ointment
jars [. . .], sealed upon real myrrh, to place on the feet of the king to the
right and the left [. . .], to the arms, at the feet. A calf . . . within this heaven
(= baldachin?). Then he shall kiss the calf after the purification [with four
jars] of water. [. . .] To release(?) the bark of Sokar. One says ‘Releasing the
encircler among the people (?) [. . ’. . . .] at his arms and his legs. [. . .] amu-
let(?) of Ptah. An amulet of the seneb-plant at his arms and legs, the sinew
of a [. . .] upon his head, anointed with best ointment, his [body] dressed
with two loincloths.

Twelfth(?) spell
Nephthys, come and purify pharaoh from all vermin he has killed, be it that
he knew it or not, of which a god hated that he killed them! Relinquished
is all evil that was adhering to him by magic!
As Re-Harachte was pure with this water which came from Heliopolis at the
east side—repelled is all evil from pharaoh.
As Horus the little child was pure in his nest in Chemmis when he arose
[. . .] and killed his enemies.
134 joachim friedrich quack

As those four goddesses were pure, Neith, Selkis, Isis, Nephthys, as they puri-
fied themselves [. . .] who originated from Atum.
As the winepress god was pure in Edfu when he purified himself from the
hind-part of the red fish—repelled is all evil from pharaoh.
As Horus the oldest was pure, the begetting bull who grasped Isis(?)58 [. . .]
of the sea.
As the Apis-bull in the Serapeum was pure when he purified himself in the
field of rushes when he had received [. . .] chapel of the crooked one in
Akhmim.
As the eyeless one in Letopolis was pure after he had chopped off the heads,
blindly [. . .] of his mother, and she closed his eyes.
As Horus was pure in Pe and Mesen when he wiped off . . . after he had
chopped off the heads [. . . .] of his enemy.
As the wild bull was pure in Buto—repelled is all evil from him, repelled is
all evil from the pharaoh.
As Horus the leader of subjects was pure at that very day when for him these
four hands have been made, fallen into the water.
And Re pronounced that he was pure by them on the shore of Netjeret—
repelled is all evil from him, repelled is all evil from the pharaoh.
As Seth was pure in Tachbeti when he moved out of Tachbeti and came
down to Nedit—repelled is all evil, equally.
As Horus the child was pure when he gave orders to the gods—repelled is
all evil, equally.
As Horus-Min in Coptos was pure on top of his plantation when he was given
his eyes as double feather and was justified, and his face should not lack
them—repelled is all evil from him, repelled is all evil from the pharaoh.
As Horus-Min was pure in Coptos when his eyes were given to him, his right
and his left one, and they were fixed on his head, and his face should
not lack them—repelled is all evil from him, repelled is all evil from the
pharaoh.
As the way-opener was pure when he united his eyes at his head as uraeus—
repelled is all evil, equally.

Thot, come that you fix for pharaoh his head

With this water which has come forth from Elephantine,
Which removes grime(?) which the lips have devised,
Which the one who beats with magic attests against him.

Pure is Horus, pure is Seth,

Pure is Thot, pure is Dun-Awi,
Pure are these four gods who have come forth around the lake of life.
Pure is pharaoh, repelled is all evil from him through magic
[. . .] against him, he cut off [. . .]

58 If the reading is correct, this could allude to a myth according to which Horus vio-
lated and raped his mother; see Meeks, Mythes, 269–70.
 conceptions of purity in egyptian religion 135

Thirteenth(?) spell
[. . .]
Horus has risen in the two chapel-rows of heaven,
He whom the lady of hearts has hidden(?) inside them,
Beautiful is her head with Thot,
The orphan child of lip and curl,
The son who came forth from a male one,
The ibis,59 great of magic,
The runner who separated the two gods.
(End of the preserved part of the Berlin manuscript)

From the unpublished part (according to P. Carlsberg 658)

“[Pharaoh has purified himself ] with the water jar with which Horus has
purified himself,
He has loosened the evil of him to the ground,
He has [. . .] taken away to the ground.
All male ones who will do anything against pharaoh,
Their bodies, their limbs [. . .] their [. . .],
They shall eat feces, while their drink is urine in their places [. . .],
Their heads shall be in the earth, their feet in heaven.
Those who say anything evil against pharaoh,
Shall be addled (?),60 [. . .] their [. . .] against them themselves”.
The purification of the king is a well-known motif in Egypt. Strangely,
though, one of the most ancient known attestations of the motif comes
from an “indirect tradition”, namely a Middle Syrian cylinder seal (today
in Brussels);61 in some other seals and impressions, the details of the motif
become increasingly less Egyptian in style and iconography. In Egypt itself,
there are a few fragmentary cases from the Old and Middle Kingdoms;
the earliest known complete attestation, by contrast, is a pectoral from
the beginning of the 18th dynasty.62 Afterward, from the New Kingdom
until the Greco-Roman period, the motif of the king being purified by
two or four gods is quite well attested.63 The stylization of the scene is
notable: The water streaming out of the jars of the gods is constituted in
most cases by hieroglyphic signs in the shape of “life” (ʿnḫ) and “domin-
ion” (wꜣs). The positive effects that the purification should produce are
made quite obvious thereby. The specific location of this scene is the area

59 tḫn is visible.
60 The reading ḫtḫt is not secure.
61 Teissier, Egyptian Iconography, 48 no. 4 and 50; Eder, Ägyptische Motive, 74–78.
62 Kairo Catalogue Général 52004; see Graefe, “Sonnenaufgang”, 63 no. 37.
63 Gardiner, “Baptism”; Assmann and Kucharek, “Wasserriten”, 54–64.
136 joachim friedrich quack

of entry into the temple, thus they are mostly engraved in the outer pas-
sageways of a temple.
The royal ritual has links to the ideal of the sun god, in which, accord-
ing to the Egyptian conception, the morning purification precedes the
sunrise. This can be seen very well in the section of the victory stelae of
Piye in which he undertakes a kind of “pilgrimage” to Heliopolis. There,
the text speaks of “Washing of his face with the river (water) of Nun with
which Re washes his face”.64
The best evidence for the Egyptian king’s palace as a location with
access restricted according to purity is, paradoxically, a case that con-
cerns not an original Egyptian king but a foreigner, namely the Nubian
king Piye. On the large stela that he erected in memory of his victorious
fights in Egypt is a report of how subject local Lower Egyptian potentates
wanted to attend to the new ruler. Among them, only one is admitted,
while the others have to wait outside. It is said:
Now these kings and leaders of Lower Egypt who came to see the perfection
of his majesty, their position was like that of women,65 they could not enter
the king’s palace, because they were ʿmʿ and had eaten fish. This is the taboo
of the king’s house. However, king Namelt entered the king’s palace because
he was pure and had not eaten fish. (Piye-Stela, l. 150–151)66
The exact interpretation of this part is somewhat troublesome, as the
lexical meaning of ʿmʿ is problematic. For quite a long time it has been
understood as “uncircumcised”, but there is no substantial evidence for
this. It should rather be understood as a kind of sexual activity. With the
combination of sexual and food taboos, the rules correspond especially to
the performance instructions in the Book of the Dead and to core issues
of purity in later magical texts.

64 Grimal, Stèle triomphale, 130 and 136 note 402. For the larger context, see Kákosy,
“Piye in Heliopolis”.
65 So far this passage has always been translated as “their legs were (like) legs of
women”, which would be singular and hardly understandable in context. In reality, we
have here the demotic rt ̯ “position” (compare Copt. ⲣⲏⲧⲉ “way, kind”). The parallel sen-
tence “they were not allowed to enter the palace” also pleads in favor of the new interpre-
tation developed here. That women had generally less access authorization than men is
clearly attested by the Book of the Temple.
66 Grimal, Stèle triomphale, 176–77, and 178 note 529. See the special study by Galpaz-
Feller, “ ‘Clean’ and ‘Unclean’ ”, who unfortunately takes the meaning “uncircumcised” for
granted and therefore does not discuss its justification; see the short notes in Gozzoli,
Writing of History, 56–57 with note 26, who underlines the parallel of the king’s palace and
the temple of the god with regard to accessibility.
 conceptions of purity in egyptian religion 137

There were likely specific ceremonies for the purification of the king
around the turn of the year. A text transmitted in hieroglyphic inscrip-
tions in the Ptolemaic temples in Philae, Assuan and Dendara might also
belong to this context.67
The king of Upper and Lower Egypt, Lord of the two countries, Userkare
beloved of Amun adores his mother; speaking words:
“Hail to you, Isis, great of magic,
Eldest in the womb of her mother Nut,
Effective in heaven with Re!
Praise to you in the day-barque,
Jubilation to you in the night-barque,
You who gave birth to all the gods!
The son of Re Ptolemaios has come to you, Lady of Life,
On this beautiful day in which you have appeared,
That he ties on for you your head,
That he fastens for you your neck.
Userkare beloved by Amun is your son Horus.
Your Ka is in peace, Lady of Life,
On this beautiful day in which you have appeared,
You whom the gods have pacified after the rage,
You of whom Re desires that you are within his barque
While repelling Apopis with the magic powers of your mouth.
Behold, Ptolemaios has come to you,
That he adores your perfection.
May you release him from all his damnations in the previous year,
His damnation of this year is removed—his back is towards it.
He has given offerings on account of them.
His countenance is towards you, mistress,
While you have come anew.
He has not done any malefaction of his town god,
He has not committed any sin (ı͗sf.t),
It shall not be counted against him in the council of the scribe of the two
countries,68
Who assesses besmirchment in the course of the year,
Who transmits the offering cattle to the slaughtering block.
He is safe and sound from this year,
The retainers protect him.
In peace, in peace, good (new) year!
May he take hold of the offerings!
Your Ka shall be over him in life!”

67 Žabkar, Hymns to Isis, 66–67; pl. XVI right; in Philae Coppens, Wabet, 116–19. See
Goyon, review of L. V. Žabkar, Hymns to Isis, 92–93.
68 That is, Thot.
138 joachim friedrich quack

Here the text speaks of the relief from “damnations” (sč̣b.w); this word,
whose usual translation is provisional, belongs to the category of things
that need to be removed most frequently in purification rituals, besides
“impurity” or “infection” (ʿb.w).

5. Purification Rituals for Members of the Elite

There are a number of rituals, which have received only scant attention in
prior research, that primarily concern the protection and purification of
Egyptians, presumably members of the elite. I have placed these rituals in
the framework of antagonistic tensions at the Egyptian court, which are
rarely spoken of explicitly.69 An interesting example in a papyrus of the
Ramesside period is as follows:
A beautiful day! Your mouth is opened;
All your enemies among the dead and the living are quelled.
Horus pours water upon your fingers;
Geb (the god of the earth) hands over to you what is in him.
Your face is washed by your father Nun,
Your face is wiped dry by Hedjhotep(?).
Ptah turns towards you with the garment, like he did for Re.
Your mouth is opened with good utterances and choice expressions.
The good day is remembered for you
And forgotten for you is evil on the good day.
Heaven and earth are in festival, the gods in joy.
Jubilation is within the great caste, acclamation in the Benben-house.
May you receive food in the presence of the great ennead,
While everyone prays for health for you;
And your heart is full of rejoicing.
Nothing shabby which you have done will be reproached.
No evil shall attach to your limbs,
[. . .] shall be heard for you in presence of the lords of truth.
O NN whom NN has born,
Re purifies you at his coming forth, Thot at his shining forth,
When this utterance is told to you which Isis spoke to her son Horus:
“You are purified on the sixth day of the lunar month,
you are protected on the last day of the lunar month”. (P. Chester Beatty IX
vs. B 12, 10–13, 9)
(a long litany follows, then:)
“O you gods and goddesses whose names have been pronounced,
Who dwell in the sky but eat on earth,

69 See Quack, “Reinigen durch Anschwärzen”; Quack, “From Ritual to Magic”.

 conceptions of purity in egyptian religion 139

Whose uraei are on their heads, whose souls are in Busiris,

And their mummy forms in the necropolis, whose names are unknown—
But you know their names, you know their occupations—
Come now and be gracious towards . . .70
May you safeguard him, may you loosen him,
May you release him from all things bad and evil,
The water of every god and every goddess, every male and female demon,
Every male and female adversary,
Every male and female wandering spirit,
Every bitterness, every heat,71 every deafness, every blindness,
Every swelling (?), every thirst;
Every turmoil, every raging, every weakness,
Every enmity, every . . ., every wrath,
Which exist hidden in every country in the course of each day!
You are protected, as the sun-god is protected day by day.
Your enemies are overthrown in the course of each day.
NN whom NN has born, he is the sun-god,
The sun-disc is on his head,
The gods protect him, the ennead safeguards him.
You are NN whom NN has born.
You belong to the gods whose names have been pronounced.
You have been born in front of the Kas of the living”. (P. Chester Beatty vs.
B17, 4–18, 7)

The instructions for the manual act contain the following:

This spell is recited over real lapis lazuli, turquoise, carnelian, amber (?),
malachite (?), green feldspar, granite, . . ., iron and all precious stones, to
be washed in milk, and the man shall be purified with it, as well as
fumigating him with dust of barley. (P. Chester Beatty IX vs. B18, 7–10)
I would stress here that questions of purification are also touched upon,
with the result that the effectuation of private purity, in which gods are
utilized, goes hand in hand with overcoming opponents and rivals. The
purification substances used in this case are notable, since milk, which
is first used to wash gemstones, and grain dust have replaced the more
normal substances, water and incense.
A similar combination is transmitted in a ritual spell for purification
that forms a scene of the Ritual for Opening the Mouth on the one hand,

70 Several doubtful words, perhaps corruptly transmitted.

71 Perhaps terms for skin diseases and inflammations; see for ṭḥr.t and šmm.t Quack,
“Tabuisierte und ausgegrenzte Kranke”, 69–70. With references, Fischer-Elfert, Abseits von
Ma’at, 60; 77–81.
140 joachim friedrich quack

and on the other hand is already attested in an isolated instance in the

early Middle Kingdom in a cosmetic scene, in a tomb.72
Hail to NN, may your purification be made in the room of homage of the
king,
While you live, being renewed and rejuvenated as Re day by day!
Thot, the master of the gods’ words, has praised, to justify your voice,
To throw down your enemies—they shall not exist!
One lexical point might be of importance in this connection. Within the
Egyptian language, especially in earlier phases, the word wʿb “to be pure”
also has the special legal meaning “to be free of claims”.73 The purification
rituals studied here could thus also concern, at least partly, the situation
of legal conflicts.

6. Purity for Ordinary People

Before emphasizing that purity was eminently important for “the Ancient
Egyptians”, we should consider whether it holds true so simply and com-
prehensively. Purity in the domains we have explored hitherto is clearly a
concern for the elites, not for the population at large. The purity rules in
place for entering a temple were not continuously enforced in daily life
and for obvious reasons could not have been. This is especially clear with
regard to the sexual taboo, which would have led, with perpetual use, to
the extinction of the Egyptian population within one or two generations.
Likewise, in the case of food taboos it is clear that the fish, pigs and small
livestock mentioned explicitly in the relevant texts were actually eaten
in Ancient Egypt74—only a few members of the elite could have covered
their daily protein needs through cattle, geese and desert game. We can
even prove positively that fish was a regularly delivered food item in the
workman’s village of Deir el-Medineh75—and this for a group whose offi-
cial occupation was to hew out and to decorate the royal tomb.
That purity by itself was not expected of the general population is
shown by the regulations in Esna, which imposed special purity periods

72 See Quack, “Fragmente”, 114–15.

73 See Ritner, “Antecedents”, 351 with note 56.
74 See for pigs, e.g. El-Huseny, Inkonsequente Tabuisierung; for fish, Gamer-Wallert, Fis-
che, 60–85; Elsbergen, Fischerei.
75 Compare for instance Valbelle, Ouvriers de la tombe, 272–74, who stresses that this
seems to have been the most common aliment at this location besides bread.
 conceptions of purity in egyptian religion 141

on the laypersons who either wanted to pray in the temple or had to work
there as craftsmen.
However, the fact that the potential low purity of certain professionals
was regarded not as neutral but, at least within the scribal elite, as nega-
tive is shown in a series of compositions in which the advantages of the
scribal profession, as compared to all other professions, are listed. As a
distinctive focus of the professions concerned, it is consistently stressed
that those professions are dirty.76
A further important question concerns behavior towards foreigners. At
least for the Late Period, there is evidence for a demarcation via purity
conceptions. However, there are relatively few sources for this phenom-
enon in the Egyptian language. Although there are a few texts forbidding
access to the temple for certain persons,77 it must be noted that these
mostly concern not the whole temple complex but only certain areas, such
as the crypts, to which only a few Egyptian priests had access. In addition,
the original ethnic names ʿꜣm and šꜣs became, in the vernacular of the
Late Period, professional names for herdsmen of cattle and sheep. In any
case, there is concrete evidence that foreigners could become priests in
an Egyptian temple.78
Furthermore, the biblical story of Joseph stresses that the Egyptians
would not eat from the same table as the Hebrews (Gen 43:32).79 Other
than this, the main external source is certainly Herodotus. He indicates
that the Egyptians were very much concerned with purity, even cleaning
the bronze beaker on a daily basis, wearing freshly washed linen garments,
practicing circumcision for purity, and requiring that the priest shave
his whole body daily and wear only a linen garment and sandals made
of papyrus, in addition to washing twice a day and twice a night with
cold water. They were not allowed to eat fish and beans (2.37). In addi-
tion, we also learn that they did not slaughter cows but only male cattle,
and for this reason did not kiss any Greeks and would not use any Greek

76 See Jäger, Berufstypologien.

77 On this see e.g. Sauneron, Les fêtes religieuses d’Esna, 347–48 note o; Derchain, Papy-
rus Salt 825, 168 note 83.
78 Vittmann, “Beobachtungen”.
79 See also Moers, “Speise der Asiaten”, who tries to establish examples for the earlier
existence of food taboos. However, they fail to convince: the stela of Piye is only concerned
with purity rules for the royal palace as a place of specific purity, the letter of Mena con-
cerns rather the act of establishing blood-brotherhood, and the prophecy of Neferti is not
about food taboos but about suffering from requisitions by plundering Asiatics; in the
annals of Amenemhet the modal interpretation by Moers (that the Egyptians had to eat
Asiatic food) is not borne out by the Egyptian text.
142 joachim friedrich quack

kitchenware (2.41). Another point in Herodotus indicative of differences

in purity concepts between the two ethnicities is the treatment of the
head of the sacrificial animal. At an Egyptian offering, many maledictions
would be spoken over it and afterward, if there were any Greek traders
nearby, it would be sold to them; otherwise it would be thrown into the
river. All in all, the classification of Egyptians in contrast to other peoples
where purity rules are concerned is not very explicit.
A peculiar trait, even if only marginally connected to the topic of purity,
is inner-Egyptian differentiation. Many regionally defined taboos are valid
only for inhabitants of a certain nome.80 Regionally differentiated rules
concerning which animals could or could not be eaten even had a real
impact on delimitations and sometimes led to bloody inner-Egyptian con-
flicts.81 These differentiations within Egypt seem rather deeper-ranging
than those against foreigners as such.
A special point concerns the question of purity rules for menstruating
women82 and for women after birth. The Egyptian word for “menstrua-
tion”, ḥsmn, is linked etymologically with the term for “purification”. It is
often assumed that women restricted themselves to certain rooms dur-
ing menstruation. However, it is not easy to adduce clear evidence for
this. The most pertinent cases seem to be certain demotic contracts in
which the seller indicates to the buyer that his women could use a certain
room during menstruation, or in cases with a woman as buyer, giving her
this option directly.83 Similar cases also exist in some Greek documents.84
However, in actuality these texts stipulate only that the women could stay
in those rooms during menstruation, not that they had to or that they were
otherwise tainted with strong taboos. Moreover, the number of papyri
in which such indications are mentioned is quite limited in comparison
to the total number of demotic real estate documents preserved. The
taboo of menstruating women, although it appears as a specific regional
phenomenon in some nomes, is thus obviously not a comprehensive
phenomenon.85

80 See e.g. Montet, “Fruit défendu”; Frandsen, “Menstrual ‘Taboo’ ”, 87 note 21–23 with
further references.
81 See Quack, “Lokalressourcen”, 27.
82 See in detail Wilfong, “Menstrual Synchrony”; Frandsen, “Menstrual ‘Taboo’ ”.
83 The most important sources are P. Louvre 2424; 2443; 2431, edited in Zauzich,
Schreibertradition, 17–21; 21–26; 26–29; for the word for the room in question (but not
explicitly the use during menstruation), see also P.BM 10446, Andrews, Catalogue, 66–67.
84 Colin, “Espace réservé”.
85 Wilfong, “Menstrual Synchrony”, 431.
 conceptions of purity in egyptian religion 143

The chief witness regarding the question of purification after child-

birth—or rather, the only substantial source—is P. Westcar. There, it is
recounted that Ruddjedet, after she has borne three future kings, under-
goes a purification period of 14 days (P. Westcar 11, 18–19) before she again
takes up her house-keeping activities.86
Pointing to the phenomenon of the so called birth-houses in Egyptian
temples, scholars have often thought that birth, and maybe even the whole
pregnancy, happened in a special building outside the normal house.87
The theory of the so called “childbed arbor”, which had been postulated
as a specific place for the birth phase on the basis of picture ostraca of
the New Kingdom, was attached to this.88 I regard this assumption with
some skepticism.89 The P. Westcar itself relates that the gods, when they
intend to help Ruddjedet give birth, come to the house of Ra-user, her
husband (P. Westcar 10, 1–2). Nothing is written about a special building
for the future mother. The pictures of the New Kingdom show, at most,
some structure, but it cannot be demonstrated that it concerns a special
childbed arbor outside the normal house, rather than simply an airy con-
struction on the roof of the house that is preferred as a sleeping place
during the summer heat.90

7. Purity Guidelines for a Tomb

Having eaten food by which a glorified being is disgusted and having

had sexual intercourse with women before entering a tomb appear in an
inscription of the Old Kingdom as reasons for a complaint being lodged
in front of the gods’ court.91 This case is formulated in uncommon detail.

86 Brunner-Traut, “Wochenlaube”, 23, suggests a separation of the woman in childbed

from the household because Ruddjedet inquires about the condition of the household.
I would agree only so far as Ruddjedet did not look after anything in those 14 days and
obviously had stayed in her room. There is no specific commentary on this in Lepper,
Untersuchungen.
87 So firstly Chassinat, “Deux tableaux”.
88 Brunner-Traut, “Wochenlaube”; see Vandier d’Abbadie, “Deux ostraca”, 21–29.
89 Also doubted by Daumas, Mammisis, 74–75 and 135.
90 Brunner-Traut, “Wochenlaube”, 20, admits that this arbor could have been on the
roof or even have been the usual sleeping place. As crucial evidence for the spatial separa-
tion, she adduces modern ethnographic features (which are of doubtful value because they
attest to the woman giving birth in the house of her parents, not the use of a separated
arbor) as well as the birth-houses in the temples.
91 Silverman, “Threat-Formula”, 10–11. The text itself in Kanawati and Abder-Raziq, Teti
Cemetery, 38, pl. 59a, col. 1.
144 joachim friedrich quack

Otherwise only a state of general purity and the avoidance of taboos are
demanded, without a detailed indication of what exactly this entailed.92

8. Purity for Dead People . . . or also for Living Ritualists

The logical next step after the tomb is the purity of the corpse itself. There
are several good indications that purification in the context of mummifi-
cation was of some importance. Wall reliefs in tombs of the Old Kingdom
already show the so-called purification tent.93 Purification scenes are also
provided abundantly in connection with the funeral scenes, especially in
front of the tomb.94
However, it must be noted that certain mourning customs do actually
breach the rules of normal purity. The most glaring case concerns the hair-
style. Whereas under normal purity regulations a completely shaved head
is desired,95 one lets one’s hair grow long during the mourning period.96
Indeed, the end of that term is actually understood as a time of puri-
fication. This is most evident in the decree of Canopus (238 bce). There
(line 26 and 29 of the hieroglyphic text), Egyptian swʿb snm.t “to purify
the mourning hairstyle” corresponds to Greek τοῦ πένθους ἀπόλυσις “to dis-
solve grief ”.97 The final scene in the Book of the Death of Gatseschni from
the 21st dynasty seems to me instructive in this regard. At the very end
of the scroll is a purification scene, which is performed for the (female)
owner. The usual colophon appears, but we also have the note, “The evil
shall be to the earth as a mourning hairstyle”.98 Thus we can see that the
mourning period required abstention from the usual condition of purity
as a sign of personal pain and sympathy, accepting impurity as a mortifi-
cation. This in turn provides an opportunity to end the mourning period
with a final purification and to reenter the usual state of purity.

92 See e.g. Edel, “Phraseologie”, 4–8; Morschauser, Threat-Formulae.

93 See Grdseloff, Reinigungszelt; Vos, Apis Ritual, 157–58 with references.
94 Barthelmess, Übergang.
95 Perhaps also of the pubic area, as there are some depictions showing that. See Roth,
Egyptian Phyles, 66–68; Grunert, “Nicht nur sauber”.
96 Posener, Littérature et politique, 152.
97 Spiegelberg, Priesterdekrete; for a new study, see Pfeiffer, Dekret von Kanopus, 144–48
and 163–67; and an additional version in Tietze, Lange and Hallof, “Neues Exemplar”.
98 For the translation, see Quack, “Kolophon”; see also Lucarelli, “Colophon”, whose
analysis, however, cannot be correct as the orthographies assumed by her for ʿrḳ, m-sꜣ and
mwt are all excluded in a hieratic text of this time; her reasoning against my analysis that
the word would be separated at the end of the line (p. 127) is flawed, as in hieratic texts of
the 21st/22nd dynasty, breaking of words at the end of the line is quite normal.
 conceptions of purity in egyptian religion 145

Shorter notes about mandatory purity can be found in abundance in the

performance instructions in the postscripts of the Book of Death spells.
Certain animal species, e.g. fish or small flock animals, are frequently pro-
scribed, and abstinence from sexual intercourse is required.99
However, this raises the question of how these texts are to be factually
evaluated. Who should follow these purity rules and at what time? First of
course we might think, in line with standard Egyptological reflexes, of the
owner of the Book of the Death as a dead person. Soberly considered, how-
ever, such an approach is quite illogical. If this person were to conduct the
ritual in the afterworld immediately after his death, he would have major
problems with real purity, as he can hardly be expected to have observed
“on spec” the many rules that are not permanently maintained, such as
sexual abstinence. In contrast, if one thinks of a performance at the end of
the embalming process, at the point of sepulture when the dead “arrives”
in the afterworld, the specific postulation of purity rules would be abso-
lutely unnecessary, as it can be assumed that the dead has neither eaten
anything impure for 70 days nor had sexual intercourse; he would thus be
long beyond all attested terms of purification.
Such rules are only reasonable for a real, living ritualist who performs
the actions himself and thus can deliberately plan to fulfill the purity
requirements. However, under these circumstances, further serious ques-
tions arise concerning the identity of the first-person speaker of the
formulae.100 The Books of the Death usually introduce the first-person
speaker with the phrase “speaking words by NN”, where NN is the owner
of the Book of Death, thus actually the deceased. How does this fit?
I see two options, which, however, both result in a performance by liv-
ing people at least in the original state of using the text.101 The first option
is a text that was not originally at home in the funerary sphere but rather
had another usage, primarily in the temple cult. In this case the formula-
tion in the first person is in accordance with acting instructions for the
ritualist. The other solution is that the texts were actually used in a funeral
context but that the speaker originally was not the dead but a still-living
ritualist, who, for the benefit of the dead, performed a ritual. These texts

99 Stricker, Praehelleense Ascese; Eschweiler, Bildzauber, 258–61.

100 It is noteworthy that among the pyramid texts, all spells are cast in the third person
(sometimes obviously changed) and manual instructions are almost totally lacking.
101 For the following, von Lieven, “Book of the Dead” is crucial; substantially important
remarks also appear in Assmann, “Tod und Initiation”.
146 joachim friedrich quack

would then have come “in a package” into the literature provided for the
dead.
Texts in the first person that do not feature the name of a specific indi-
vidual as the beneficiary are especially important for the proper solution
of this question. In particular, I think of cases like the papyri Gardiner 1–4,
which both date very early (end of the Old Kingdom or First Intermediate
Period) and use an anonymous first-person voice exclusively, thus indicat-
ing usage by a ritualist, but never mentioning a proper name.
Concerning purity instructions, I will illustrate these points with spe-
cific examples. As a first case I would point to BD 105.
Spell for satisfying the Ka, speaking words by NN:
“Hail to you, my Ka, my lifetime!
Behold, I have come to you,
Being effective, appearing, ensouled,
Being powerful, being healthy.
I have brought natron and incense to you,
That I purify you with it,
That I purify your sweat with it.
This bad utterance that I have said,
This evil impurity that I have committed,
It shall not be set against me(?),
Because mine is this green papyrus amulet,
Which is at the neck of Re,
Which was given to those102 who are in the horizon.
If they prosper, I prosper!
My Ka prospers like them,
My Ka is fed like them.
The one who carries the scale, with noble truth103
At the nose of Re on that day!
You shall not carry me off(?),104
Because I have an eye which sees, an ear which hears!
I am no slaughtering cattle,
They shall not make me into offerings
For the chiefs—variant: chiefs and Nut!
May you let me pass you!
I am pure, justified is Osiris against his enemies!”
Hitherto, this text has been understood by Egyptologists as a relatively con-
ventional speech of a dead person with the aim of rebirth.105 As a matter

102 Variant in Nebseni: “That those gave me who are in the horizon”.
103 As ḳꜣi is intransitive, I consider the translation “elevate Maat” impossible.
104 ͂
The exact sense of the expression ṭp-rmn is not clear.
105 Janák, “Journey to Resurrection”.
 conceptions of purity in egyptian religion 147

of fact, though, its focus is quite different. The aim is, on the one hand,
to purify the Ka addressed as a recipient of the ritual; on the other hand,
the individual emphasizes his own purity, or, more precisely, asks that his
faults not be counted against him. With this, the possibility of being able
to gain access to an area of limited access without being exposed to risks
against body and life plays a major role. The only options that seem fea-
sible to me are those of an officiant who arrives either to care for his dead
forbear (namely, an ancestor) or to play the role of Horus for Osiris.106
My second example is a spell concerning passing the gates (BD 145).
Only the first portal out of this long spell is cited as an example.
“You are greeted by Horus, first portal of the weary-hearted.
Make way for me!
I know you, I know your name,
I know the name of the god who guards you.
‘Mistress of shivering, with high pinnacles,
Leader, mistress of breaking up,
Who announces speeches and chases away thunderstorms,
Who keeps the theft from the one who comes from afar’
Is your name.
‘Horrible’ is the name of the god who guards you.
I am clean through this water, in which Re purified himself,
When he opened up the east side of heaven.
I am anointed with the best of cedar oil,
I am dressed with linen dress,
The scepter in my hand is made out of heter-wood”.
“Pass by then, you are pure!”
It must be noted that here purity connected with knowledge is essential,
i.e., besides the correct purity and appropriate clothing, knowledge of the
names of the door and the guardian is required. The assumption that this
text is intended primarily for the ritualist is confirmed first by the intro-
ductory formula found in the most detailed version of the New Kingdom,
in the tomb of Senenmut: “You are greeted by Horus”—thus the name
is not changed to the name of the specific tomb owner. Second, we can
see very clearly how this spell has been incorporated in the Late Period
into an Osirian ritual in which the ritualist is definitely the living Horus,

106 As long as you do not accept that a still-living ritualist has to be differentiated
from the dead, you quickly move into aporias in which the otherwise precise analysis by
Willems, “Embalmer embalmed”, ends.
148 joachim friedrich quack

who acts for his father Osiris,107 and the destiny of the dead owner of the
papyrus is linked to that of Osiris, not of Horus.
As a last example, I would like to cite a text that I might have been
expected to treat under the aspect of purity conceptions in a moral sense,
namely the well-known scene of the “judgment of the dead” in chapter
125 of the Book of the Dead.108 I will restrict myself to a few sections and
will not treat the great confessions, which I regard as sufficiently well-
known.
What is said when reaching the hall of the two truths.
To separate NN from all misdeeds he has done, to see every god face-to-face:
“Hail to you, great god, master of the two truths,
I have come to you, my master!
May you fetch me that I can see your perfection!
I know you, I know your name,
I know the names of the 42 gods
Who are together with you in the hall of the two truths,
Who live on those belonging to evil,
Who gulp down their blood
On that day of calculating the characters before Wennennefer.
Behold, ‘the one whose two daughters are his two eyes, lord of truth’ is your
name!
Behold, I have come to you,
Having fetched Maat and abolished injustice,
(a long negative confession follows)
I am pure, I am pure, I am pure, I am pure!
My purity is the purity of the great Benu-bird who is in Heracleopolis,
Because mine is this nose of the master of breath who keeps all people alive,
On that day of filling the Udjat-eye in Heliopolis
In the second month of the time of sowing at the last day.
In front of the master of this land.
It is me who sees the filling of the Udjat-eye in Heliopolis.
Nothing evil shall happen against me in this country,
In this hall of the two truths,
Because I know the name of these gods who are in her following the great
god.
(the negative confession addressed to the 42 gods follows)
Hail to you, you gods!
I know you, I know your names!
I shall not fall to your massacre,
You shall not let my evil ascend to this god whom you are following,
My (mis)deed shall not occur with you,

107 Goyon, Imouthès, 17–47; Smith, Traversing Eternity, 67–95.

108 New synoptic text edition in Lapp, Spruch 125.
 conceptions of purity in egyptian religion 149

You shall speak the truth concerning me in front of the Almighty!

Because I have committed the Maat in Egypt,
I have not blasphemed any god,
My (mis)deed has not occurred with the incumbent king.
...
I am pure, my forepart is in purity,
My back part is in cleanliness,
My middle is a pond of Maat,
No limb of myself is free of Maat.
I have purified myself in the southern pond,
...
‘I will not let you step on me’
Says the ground of this hall.
‘Why? But I am pure’.
‘Because we do not know your feet,
With which you intend to step on us.
Name them to me!’
‘Introduced before Min’ is the name of my right foot,
‘Root of Hathor’ is the name of my left foot.
‘Then step on us, you know us’.
...
‘Come’ says Thot, ‘why have you come?’
‘I have come here in order to be announced’.
‘How is your condition?’
‘I am pure of any sin,
I have kept away from the strife of those who are in their daily service,
I do not belong to them’.
‘To whom I shall announce you?’
‘To the one whose ceiling is fire,
Whose walls are reared Uraei,
Whose ground is the flood’.
‘Who is that?’
‘That is Osiris’.
‘Thus pass by, you are announced!
Your bread is the Udjat-eye,
Your beer is the Udjat-eye,
You will be brought offerings on earth consisting of the Udjat-eye’
—thus he says about me.

Postscript
To be performed as it happens in the halls of the two truths. A man shall
say this spell being pure and clean, after he has dressed in garments of the
channel shore(?), the sandals as white sandals, made-up with malachite,
anointed with myrrh of best quality, having sacrificed a fresh cow, poultry,
incense, bread, beer and vegetables. Now you do this pattern as a drawing
with ochre on the pure ground coated with soil on which no pig or goat
has stepped. As for the one on whom this book is performed, he will be
150 joachim friedrich quack

prosperous, his children will be prosperous, he will be a confidant of the

king and his royal court, he will be given a shenes-bread, a jar with beer,
per-sen-bread, a big piece of meat from the altar of the great god, he will not
be repelled at all doors in the west. He will be transported together with the
kings of Upper and Lower Egypt, he will be in the cortege of Osiris. A true
remedy, proven a million times.
The text is of relevance as it is focused on purity. It is explicitly called a
ritual for the separation of misdeeds in the title, i.e., the aim is a state-
ment of purity that also eliminates any possible mistakes. Besides purity,
knowledge that legitimizes access is also necessary in this case; after fin-
ishing the confessions, the candidate has to prove his knowledge of dif-
ferent religious customs and names, of which only one case is included
in the translation above. If we detach ourselves from the traditional
Egyptological approach, we can see quite well that the actual aim of the
spell is to receive a secure supply, on the one hand, and to gain access,
on the other hand. The note in the postscript that the ritualist would be
a confidant of the king and of his royal court raises the suspicion that we
have an original court ritual concerning direct contact, on par with the
highest elite, here.
An older source for purity regulations of similar difficulty is to be found
in the so-called Book of the Two Ways, which is transmitted on coffins
from the early Middle Kingdom but which goes back to original priestly
rituals in the Osirian and solar domains, in my opinion. At the correspond-
ing position (CT VII 449, d–e), it is said:
If a man sets out to go to the west, then the man shall recite in a purity
period of four days and on his fourth day he shall go forth.
If I understand this text correctly (my analysis diverges seriously from
most former editors),109 then a purity term of four days of preparation for
the ritual is demanded.
In addition, a totally different form of justifying access, this time clearly
in a non-funeral field, is to be found in a text that in its first modern edi-
tion has been given the rather unfortunate title “Book of Thot”; it is actu-
ally a ritual for access to the chamber of darkness.110 The text’s main goal
is the initiation of a scribe into the arcane secrets. The important section
is as follows:

109 See, in a slightly different sense, Backes, Zweiwegebuch, 111.

110 Jasnow and Zauzich, Book of Thoth; Quack, “Initiation”; Quack, “Dialog”.
 conceptions of purity in egyptian religion 151

[He-spoke-in-Hesrekh] said: ‘If you smell of myrrh, then do not enter the
House of Life! They are horny bulls which are in [it].
Is there a woman for you? Do you have any daughters? Then take care!
[. . .] you; or is it a father, who sent you out? It is the teaching of the boy (?)
who is worthy to examine you’.
The one loving wisdom says: ‘I know the taboos which are in the chamber
of darkness, I have come free of them.
I have turned wine into an abomination for me, I have forgotten the smell
of the myrrh. Behold, my dresses are tattered, I am desirous!’
He-spoke-in-Hesrekh said: ‘The Ibises which are her, their food is tiresome,
their life is problematic.
They do not satiate themselves with bread, they do not get drunk by wine,
they do not anoint themselves with ointment. Their taboo is to mention
the name of the sexual intercourse.
Arrow demons (?) are what stand at their mouth, and snakes on their lips.
Their offerings are dogs, their food is donkeys, their fruits are reptiles.
Will you be able to live with those who are in earth holes? What is their
way to serve them?’
The one loving wisdom said: ‘I will wash their writing bowls, I will rinse their
writing boards (?), I will wipe off the dust of their boxes.
I will fill up the rest, I will light the torch, I will prepare charcoal for the
temple houses.
I will break the stones (?), I will hug the boxes, I will produce [. . .].
I will receive the boxes (?), I will rush on the voice, I will open [the doors(?)].
I will carry the writing rolls on the way behind them, I will [. . .]’
Some of these taboos are similar to the purity instructions in rituals,
especially the avoidance of contact with women. In general, however,
they quite definitely concern mortifications, demonstrating a conscious
abstention from the conveniences of life. In some points, especially with
regard to tattered clothes and abstention from ointment and scents, they
create a state diametrically opposed to the normal concept of purity.
Advice concerning the necessity of purity is quite common in Greco-
Egyptian magical papyri, which are partly demotic but mostly transmitted
in Greek. These certainly concern a living ritualist, and in view of the aims
of the rituals, they were used outside the normal temple cult establish-
ment. They very often emphasize that the question of purity is crucial
for the efficacy of the ritual.111 Where they become explicit, the concrete
points are similar to the older Egyptian texts, as well as to the Book of the
Dead postscripts and the access texts of the Greco-Roman temple: sexual
taboo, no food from pig and fish, pure garments and ritual implements.

111 Compare Quack, “Postulated and Real Efficacy”.

152 joachim friedrich quack

The most common time span for purity terms is three days, sometimes
seven. Much more complex is the ritual in the eighth Book of Moses,
which requires a preparation period of 41 days. It should be noted that
these instructions appear with rituals concerning not an urgent crisis but
predictable situations, especially divination rituals.

9. Final Remarks

Purity in Egypt has a delimiting function—certain rooms and persons

are only accessible if their requirements have been fulfilled; certain social
groups, especially priests, assert themselves through them. At the same
time, however, it is also a limited matter. Most purity instructions are only
valid for a certain period and in a certain situation and do not have to be
kept permanently.
A possible differentiation of purity in the physical and the moral sense
hardly seems possible.112 Normally, in the text of a ritual, the physical
aspect is more strongly emphasized, but the material presented here dem-
onstrates well that the moral aspect is attached seamlessly.

Bibliography

Alliot, Maurice. Le culte d’Horus à Edfou au temps des Ptolémées. Bibliothèque d’Étude 20.
Cairo: Institut français d’archéologie orientale, 1949–54.
Altenmüller-Kesting, Brigitte. “Reinigungsriten im Ägyptischen Kult”. Ph.D. diss. Hamburg
1968.
Andrews, Carol. Catalogue of Demotic Papyri in the British Museum, Volume IV: Ptolemaic
Legal Texts from the Theban Area. London: British Museum, 1990.
Assmann, Jan. Altägyptische Totenliturgien: Band 3: Osirisliturgien der Spätzeit. Heidelberg:
Winter, 2008.
——. “Tod und Initiation im altägyptischen Totenglauben”. Pages 336–59 in Sehnsucht
nach dem Ursprung. Zu Mircea Eliade. Edited by H. P. Duerr. Frankfurt on the Main:
Syndikat, 1983.
Assmann, Jan, and Kucharek, Andrea. “Wasserriten im Alten Ägypten”. Pages 43–68 in
Ablution, Initiation, and Baptism. Late Antiquity, Early Judaism, and Early Christianity.
Edited by D. Hellholm, T. Vegge, Œ. Norderval, and Chr. Hellholm. Berlin/Boston: de
Gruyter, 2011.
Aufrère, Sydney. L’univers minéral dans la pensée égyptienne. Bibliothèque d’Étude 105.
Cairo: Institut français d’archéologie orientale, 1991.
——. “Etudes de lexicologie et d’histoire naturelle VIII–XVII: Remarques au sujet des végé-
taux interdits dans le temple d’Isis à Philae”. Bulletin de l’Institut Français d’Archéologie
Orientale 86 (1986): 1–32.

112 Compare also Meyer, “Magical Ascesis”.

 conceptions of purity in egyptian religion 153

Backes, Burkhard. Das Altägyptische ‘Zweiwegebuch’: Studien zu den Sargtext-Sprüchen

1029–1130. Ägyptologische Abhandlungen 69. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2005.
Barthelmess, Petra. Der Übergang ins Jenseits in den thebanischen Beamtengräbern der
Ramessidenzeit. Studien zur Archäologie und Geschichte Altägyptens 2. Heidelberg:
Heidelberger Orientverlag, 1992.
Blackman, Aylward M. “Sacramental Ideas and Usages in Ancient Egypt”. Proceedings of
the Society for Biblical Archaeology 11 (1918): 57–66 and 86–91.
——. “Some Notes on the Ancient Egyptian Practice of Washing the Dead”. Journal of
Egyptian Archaeology 5 (1918): 117–24.
——. “The House of the Morning” Journal of Egyptian Archaeology 5 (1918): 148–65.
——. “Purification (Egyptian)”. Pages 476–82 in vol. 10 of Encyclopedia of Religion and
Ethics. Edited by J. Hastings. 12 vols. New York: Scribner’s, 1918.
Bricault, Laurent. Recueil des inscriptions concernant les cultes isiaques: (RICIS): Vol. 1—
Corpus. Mémoires de l’Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres 31. Paris: de Boccard,
2005.
Brunner-Traut, Emma. “Die Wochenlaube”. Mitteilungen des Instituts für Orientforschung
3 (1955): 11–30.
Burgos, Franck, and François Larché. La Chapelle Rouge: Le sanctuaire de barque
d’Hatshepsout: Volume 1: Fac-similés et photographies des scènes. Paris: Culturesfrance,
2006.
Chassinat, Émile. “À propos de deux tableaux du mammisi d’Edfou”. Bulletin de l’Institut
Française d’Archéologie Orientale 10 (1912): 183–93.
Colin, F. “Un espace réservé aux femmes dans l’habitat hellénistique d’après des papyrus
grecs et démotiques”. Pages 259–68 in Atti del XXII Congresso Internazionale di papiro-
logia: Firenze 23–29 agosto 1998. Edited by I. Andorlini. Florence: Istituto papirologico
G. Vitelli, 2001.
Coppens, Filip. The Wabet: Tradition and Innovation in Temples of the Ptolemaic and Roman
Period. Prague: Czech Institute of Egyptology, 2007.
Crevatin, Franco. Il libro dei morti di Ptahmose (Papiro Busca, Milano) ed altri documenti
egiziani antichi. Biblioteca degli Studi di egittologia e di papirologia 6. Pisa: Fabrizio
Serra, 2008.
Daumas, François. Les Mammisis des temples égyptiens. Paris: Les Belles Lettres, 1958.
Derchain, Philippe. Le papyrus Salt 825 (B.M. 10051), rituel pour la conservation de la vue en
Égypte. Brussels: Académie royale de Belgique, 1965.
Douglas, Mary. Purity and Danger: An Analysis of Concept of Pollution and Taboo. London:
Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1966. Repr., London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 2006.
——. Leviticus as Literature. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999.
Edel, Elmar. “Untersuchungen zur Phraseologie der ägyptischen Inschriften des Alten
Reiches”. Mitteilungen des Deutschen Archäologischen Instituts Kairo 13 (1944): 1–90.
Eder, Christian. Die ägyptischen Motive in der Glyptik des östlichen Mittelmeerraumes zu
Anfang des 2. Jts. v. Chr. Orientalia Lovaniensia Analecta 71. Leuven: Peeters, 1995.
Elsbergen, Michael Johannes van. Fischerei im Alten Ägypten: Untersuchungen zu den
Fischfangdarstellungen in den Gräbern der 4. bis 6. Dynastie. Abhandlungen des Deutschen
Archäologischen Instituts Kairo: Ägyptologische Reihe 14. Berlin: Achet Verlag, 1997.
Eschweiler, Peter. Bildzauber im Alten Ägypten: Die Verwendung von Bildern und
Gegenständen in Magischen Handlungen nach den Texten des Mittleren und Neuen
Reiches. Orbis Biblicus et Orientalis 137. Fribourg: Universitätsverlag, 1994.
Fairman, Herbert W. “Worship and Festivals in an Egyptian Temple”. Bulletin of the John
Rylands Library 37 (1954): 165–203.
Fischer-Elfert, Hans-Werner. Abseits von Ma’at: Fallstudien zu Außenseitern im Alten
Ägypten. Wahrnehmungen und Spuren Altägyptens 1. Würzburg: Ergon, 2005.
Frandsen, Paul J. “The Menstrual ‘Taboo’ in Ancient Egypt”. Journal of Near Eastern Studies
66 (2007): 81–105.
154 joachim friedrich quack

Galpaz-Feller, Pnina. “The Stela of King Piye: A Brief Consideration of ‘Clean’ and ‘Unclean’
in Ancient Egypt and the Bible”. Revue Biblique 102 (1995): 506–21.
Gamer-Wallert, Ingrid. Fische und Fischkulte im Alten Ägypten. Ägyptologische
Abhandlungen 21. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 1970.
Gardiner, Allen Henderson. “The Baptism of Pharaoh”. Journal of Egyptian Archaeology 36
(1950): 3–12.
Gee, John. “The Requirements of Ritual Purity in Ancient Egypt”. Ph.D. diss. Yale University
1998.
Goyon, Jean-Claude. Le papyrus d’Imouthès, fils de Psinthaês au Metropolitan Museum of
Art de New-York: (Papyrus MMA 35.9.21). New York: Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1999.
——. Review of L. V. Žabkar, Hymns to Isis in Her Temple at Philae. Chronique d’Égypte 68
(1993): 87–93.
——. Confirmation du pouvoir royal au nouvel an: Brooklyn Museum Papyrus 47.218.50.
Bibliothèque d’Étude 52. Cairo: Institut français d’archéologie orientale, 1972.
——. “Une formule solennelle de purification des offrandes dans les temples ptoléma-
ïques”. Chronique d’Égypte 45 (1970): 267–81.
Gozzoli, Roberto B. The Writing of History in Ancient Egypt during the First Millennium
BC (ca. 1070–180 BC): Trends and Perspectives. Golden House Publications Egyptology 5.
London: Golden House Publications, 2006.
Graefe, Erhard. “Der Sonnenaufgang zwischen den Pylontürmen”—Erstes Bad, Krönung
und Epiphanie des Sonnengottes à propos Carter, Tut-anch-Amen, Handlist no 181”.
Orientalia Lovaniensia Periodica 14 (1983): 55–79.
Grdseloff, Bernhard. Das Ägyptische Reinigungszelt. Études égyptiennes 1. Cairo: Institut
français d’archéologie orientale, 1941.
Grieshammer, Reinhard. “Zum Fortleben ägyptischer und israelitisch-jüdischer Unschulds-
erklärungen in frühchristlichen Texten Ägyptens”. Pages 247–64 in Jerusalem Studies in
Egyptology. Ägypten und Altes Testament 40. Edited by I. Shirun-Grumach. Wiesbaden:
Harrassowitz, 1998.
——. “Reinheit, Kultische”. Pages 212–13 in vol. 1 of Lexikon der Ägyptologie. Edited by
W. Helck and O. Eberhard. 7 vols. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 1984.
Grimal, Nicolas. La stèle triomphale de Pi(‘ankh)y au Musée du Caire: JE 48862 et 47086–
47089. Mémoires publiés par l’Institut Française d’Archéologie Orientale 105. Cairo:
Institut français d’archéologie orientale, 1981.
Grunert, Stefan. “Nicht nur sauber, sondern rein: Rituelle Reinigungsanweisungen aus dem
Grab des Anchmahor in Saqqara”. Studien zur Altägyptischen Kultur 30 (2002): 137–51.
Guermeur, Ivan. “À propos d’un nouvel exemplaire du rituel journalier pour Soknebtynis
(phiéraTeb SCA 2979 et autres variantes)”. In Ägyptische Rituale der Griechisch-Römischen
Zeit. Edited by J. F. Quack. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, forthcoming.
Guglielmi, Waltraud, and Knuth Buroh. “Die Eingangssprüche des täglichen Tempelrituals
nach Papyrus Berlin 3055 (I, 1–VI, 3)”. Pages 101–66 in Essays on Ancient Egypt in Honour
of Herman te Velde. Egyptological Memoirs 1. Edited by J. van Dijk. Groningen: Styx
Publications, 1997.
Gutbub, Adolphe. Textes fondamentaux de la théologie de Kom Ombo. Bibliothèque d’Étude
47. Cairo: Institut français d’archéologie orientale, 1973.
Habachi, Labib. The Sanctuary of Heqaib: Elephantine 4. Archäologische Veröffentlichungen
33. Mainz on the Rhine: Philipp von Zabern, 1985.
Hieratische Papyri aus den Königlichen Museen zu Berlin, Erster Band: Rituale für den Kultus
des Amon und für den Kultus der Mut. Leipzig: J. C. Hinrichs, 1901.
Hornung, Erik. Der Eine und die Vielen: Ägyptische Gottesvorstellungen. Darmstadt:
Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1971.
Horst, Pieter Willem van der. Chaeremon: Egyptian Priest and Stoic Philosopher: The
Fragments Collected and Translated with Explanatory Notes. Études préliminaires aux
religions orientales dans l‘Empire romain 101. 2d ed. Leiden: Brill, 1987.
 conceptions of purity in egyptian religion 155

El-Huseny, Abd El-Hamid M. Die Inkonsequente Tabuisierung von Sus Scrofa Linnaeus, 1758
im Alten Ägypten: Seine Ökonomische und Religiöse Bedeutung. Berlin: Wissenschaftlicher
Verlag, 2006.
Jäger, Stephan. Altägyptische Berufstypologien. Lingua Aegyptia: Studia monographica 4.
Göttingen: Seminar für Ägyptologie und Koptologie, 2004.
Janák, Jiří. “Journey to Resurrection: Chapter 105 of the Book of the Dead in the New
Kingdom”. Studien zur Altägyptischen Kultur 31 (2003): 193–210.
Jasnow, Richard, and Karl-Theodor Zauzich. The Ancient Egyptian Book of Thoth: A
Demotic Discourse on Knowledge and Pendant to the Classical Hermetica. Wiesbaden.
Harrassowitz, 2005.
Junker, Hermann. “Vorschriften für den Tempelkult in Philä”. Pages 151–60 in Studia Biblica
et Orientalia: Vol. 3. Oriens Antiquus: Analecta Biblica 12. Rome: Pontificio Istituto
Biblico, 1959.
Kákosy, László. “King Piye in Heliopolis”. Pages 321–29 in A Tribute to Excellence: Studies
Offered in Honor of Ernő Gaál, Ulrich Luft, László Török. Studia Aegyptiaca 17. Edited by
T. A. Bács. Budapest: La chaire d’égyptologie, 2002.
Kanawati, Naguib, and Mahmoud Abder-Raziq. The Teti Cemetery at Saqqara: Vol. 5. The
Tomb of Hesi. Warminster: Aris and Philipps, 1999.
Kurth, Dieter. Treffpunkt der Götter: Inschriften aus dem Tempel des Horus von Edfu. Rev.
and enl. ed. Zurich: Artemis & Winkler, 1998.
Lapp, Günther. Totenbuch Spruch 125. Totenbuchtexte 3. Basel: Orientverlag, 2008.
Leitz, Christian. Die Tempelinschriften der Griechisch-Römischen Zeit. Quellentexte zur
Ägyptischen Religion 1. Einführungen und Quellentexte zur Ägyptologie 2. 2d ed.
Münster: LIT-Verlag, 2006.
Lepper, Verena. Untersuchungen zu pWestcar: Eine Philologische und Literaturwis-
senschaftliche (Neu-)Analyse. Ägyptologische Abhandlungen 70. Wiesbaden: Harra-
sowitz, 2008.
Lieven, Alexandra von. “Book of the Dead, Book of the Living: BD Spells as Temple Texts”.
Journal of Egyptian Archaeology, forthcoming.
Lorton, David. “The Theology of Cult Statues in Ancient Egypt”. Pages 123–210 in Born in
Heaven, Made on Earth: The Making of the Cult Image in the Ancient Near East. Edited by
M. B. Dick. Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1999.
Lucarelli, Rita. “The Colophon of the Book of the Dead of Gatseschen: A Working Issue”.
Göttinger Miszellen 220 (2009): 125–27.
Meeks, Dimitri. Mythes et légendes du Delta: D’après le papyrus Brooklyn 47.218.84. Mémoires
publiés par les Membres de l’Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale 125. Cairo: Institut
français d’archéologie orientale, 2006.
——. “Pureté et purification en Égypte”. Col. 430–52 in Dictionnaire de la Bible:
Supplément 9. Edited by L. Pirot. Paris: Letouzey et Ané, 1979.
Menchetti, Angiolo. Ostraka demotici e bilingui da Narmuthis (ODN 100–188). Biblioteca di
studi egittologici 5. Pisa: Edizioni ETS, 2005.
Meyer, Robert. “Magical Ascesis and Moral Purity in Ancient Egypt”. Pages 45–64 in
Transformations of the Inner Self in Ancient Religions. Studies in the History of Religions
83. Edited by J. Assmann and G. G. Stroumsa. Leiden: Brill, 1999.
Moers, Gerald. “ ‘Jene Speise der Asiaten’: Zur bisher unbekannten Vorgeschichte
Spätzeitlicher Speisetabus”. Pages 507–16 in Altertum und Mittelmeerraum: Die Antike
Welt diesseits und jenseits der Levante: Festschrift für Peter W. Haider zum 60. Geburtstag.
Oriens et Occidens 12. Edited R. Rollinger and B. Truschnegg. Stuttgart: Franz Steiner
Verlag, 2006.
Montet, Pierre. “Le fruit défendu”. Kêmi 11 (1950): 85–116.
Moret, Alexandre. Le rituel du culte divin journalier en Égypte: D’après les papyrus de Berlin
et les textes du temple de Séti Ier, à Abydos. Musée Guimet: Annales du Musée Guimet:
Bibliothèque d’études 14. Paris: Leroux, 1902.
156 joachim friedrich quack

Morschauser, Scott N. Threat-Formulae in Ancient Egypt: A Study of the History, Structure

and Use of Threats and Curses in Ancient Egypt. Baltimore, Md.: Halgo, 1991.
Musso, Simone, and Simone Pettacchi. “Sexual Taboos and Priestly Functions in Ancient
Egypt”. Pages 545–66 in Second International Congress for Young Egyptologists. Edited by
P. Veiga. Lisbon: Centro de História, 2010.
Osing, Jürgen, and Gloria Rosati. Papiri geroglifici e ieratici da Tebtunis. Florence: Istituto
paprirologico G. Vitelli, 1998.
Otto, Eberhard. Das Ägyptische Mundöffnungsritual. Ägyptologische Abhandlungen 3.
Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 1960.
Parker, Robert. Miasma: Pollution and Purification in Early Greek Religion. Oxford: Clarendon
Press, 1983. 3d ed. Repr., Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2003.
Patillon, Michel, Alain Ph. Segonds, and Luc Brisson. Porphyre, De l’abstinence, tome 3.
Livre 4. Collection des universités de France 368 Série grecque. Paris: Les Belles Lettres,
1995.
Pfeiffer, Stefan. Das Dekret von Kanopus (238 v. Chr.): Kommentar und historische Auswertung
eines dreisprachigen Synodaldekretes der Ägyptischen Priester zu Ehren Ptolemaios’ III.
und seiner Familie. Archiv für Papyrusforschung Beiheft 18. Munich: K. G. Saur, 2004.
Posener, Georges. Littérature et politique dans l’Égypte de la XIIe dynastie. Bibliothèque de
l’École des Hautes Etudes 307. Paris: Librairie Honoré Champion, 1956.
Quack, Joachim Friedrich. “From Ritual to Magic: Ancient Egyptian Forerunners of the
Charitesion and their Social Setting”. In Continuity and Innovation in the Magical
Tradition. Edited by G. Bohak, Y. Harari and S. Shaked. Leiden: Brill, forthcoming.
——. “Les normes pour Osiris et son culte: Les indications du Manuel du Temple sur les
lieux et les prêtres”. In Les cultes d’Osiris au 1er millénaire. Edited by L. Coulon. Cairo:
Institut français d’archéologie orientale, forthcoming.
——. “Reinigen durch Anschwärzen?” In How Purity is made. Edited by P. Rösch and
U. Simon. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, forthcoming.
——. “Translating the Realities of Cult: The Case of the Book of the Temple”. In Aegypto-
Graeca: Literary Interactions between Greece and Egypt, 700 BC–300 AD. Edited by
I. Rutherford. forthcoming.
——. “Postulated and Real Efficacy in Late Egyptian Antique Rituals”. Journal of Ritual
Studies 24 (2010): 45–60.
——. “Lokalressourcen oder Zentraltheologie? Zur Relevanz und Situierung geographisch
strukturierter Mythologie im Alten Ägypten”. Archiv für Religionsgeschichte 10 (2008):
5–29.
——. “Zum Kolophon des Totenbuchs der Gatseschen”. Göttinger Miszellen 218 (2008):
7–8.
——. “Die Initiation zum Schreiberberuf im Alten Ägypten”. Studien zur Altägyptischen
Kultur 36 (2007): 249–95.
——. “Ein Ägyptischer Dialog über die Schreibkunst und das arkane Wissen”. Archiv für
Religionsgeschichte 9 (2007): 259–94.
——. “Fragmente des Mundöffnungsrituals aus Tebtynis”. Pages 69–150 in The Carlsberg
Papyri 7: Hieratic Texts from the Collection. CNI Publications 30. Edited by K. Ryholt.
Copenhagen: Museum Tusculanum Press, 2006.
——. “Ein Prätext und seine Realisierungen: Aspekte des Ägyptischen Mundöffnungs-
rituals”. Pages 165–85 in Text und Ritual: Essays und Kulturwissenschaftliche Studien von
Sesostris bis Dada. Hermeia 8. Edited by B. Dücker and H. Roeder. Heidelberg: Synchron,
2005.
——. Review of S. Lippert, Ein Demotisches Juristisches Lehrbuch. Archiv für Papyrusfors-
chung 51 (2005): 171–74.
——. “Tabuisierte und ausgegrenzte Kranke nach dem ‘Buch vom Tempel’ ”. Pages 63–80
in Papyrus Ebers und die Antike Heilkunde: Akten der Tagung vom 15.–16. 3. 2002 in
der Albertina/UB der Universität Leipzig. Philippika 7. Edited by H.-W. Fischer-Elfert.
Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2005.
 conceptions of purity in egyptian religion 157

——. “Organiser le culte ideal: Le Manuel du temple égyptien”. Bulletin de la Société

Française d’Égyptologie 160 (2004): 9–25.
——. “Le manuel du temple: Une nouvelle source sur la vie des prêtres égyptiens”. Égypte
Afrique & Orient 29 (2003): 11–18.
——. “Königsweihe, Priesterweihe, Isisweihe”. Pages 95–108 in Ägyptische Mysterien?.
Edited by J. Assmann and M. Bommas. Munich: Wilhelm Fink, 2002.
——. “Das Buch vom Tempel und Verwandte Texte: Ein Vorbericht”. Archiv für
Religionsgeschichte 2 (2000): 1–20.
——. Studien zur Lehre für Merikare. Göttinger Orientforschungen 4,23. Wiesbaden:
Harrassowitz, 1992.
Quirke, Stephen. “Two Thirteenth Dynasty Heart Scarabs”. Jaarbericht van het voorazi-
atisch-egyptisch genootschap Ex Oriente Lux 37 (2003): 31–40.
Ritner, Robert K. “Third Intermediate Period Antecedents of Demotic Legal Terminology”.
Pages 343–59 in Acts of the Seventh International Conference of Demotic Studies,
Copenhagen, 23–27 August 1999. CNI Publications 27. Edited by K. Ryholt. Copenhagen:
Museum Tusculanum, 2002.
Roth, Ann Macey. Egyptian Phyles in the Old Kingdom: The Evolution of a System of Social
Organization. Studies in Ancient Oriental Civilizations 48. Chicago: University of
Chicago 1991.
Sauneron, Serge. Les fêtes religieuses d’Esna aux derniers siècles du paganisme. Esna 5.
Cairo: Institut français d’archéologie orientale, 1962.
Schott, Siegfried. Kanais. Der Tempel Sethos I. im Wadi Mia. Nachrichten der Akademie
der Wissenschaften Göttingen, phil.-hist. Klasse 1961,6. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck &
Ruprecht, 1961.
——. Die Reinigung Pharaos in einem Memphitischen Tempel: (Berlin P. 13242). Nachrichten
der Akademie der Wissenschaften Göttingen, phil.-hist. Klasse 1957,3. Göttingen:
Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1957.
Silverman, David P. “The Threat-Formula and Biographical Text in the Tomb of Hezi at
Saqqara”. Journal of the American Research Center in Egypt 37 (2000): 1–13.
Smith, Aaron. “Kingship, Water and Ritual: The Ablution Rite in the Coronation Ritual of
the Pharaoh”. Pages 329–36 in L’acqua nell’antico Egitto: Vita, rigenerazione, incantesimo,
medicamento: Proceedings of the First International Conference for Young Egyptologists,
Italy, Chianciano Terme October 15–18, 2003. Egitto antico 3: Atti 1. Edited by A. Amenta,
M. M. Luiselli and M. N. Sordi. Rome: L’Erma di Bretschneider, 2005.
Smith, Mark. Traversing Eternity: Texts for the Afterlife from Ptolemaic and Roman Egypt.
Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009.
Spiegelberg, Wilhelm. Der Demotische Text der Priesterdekrete von Kanopus und Memphis
(Rosettana). Heidelberg: Privately printed, 1922.
Stricker, Bruno Hugo. De praehelleense Ascese. Leuven: Peeters, 1994.
Tacke, Nikolaus. “Das Opferritual des Ägyptischen Neuen Reiches”. Pages 27–36 in
Rituale in der Vorgeschichte, Antike und Gegenwart: Studien zur Vorderasiatischen,
Prähistorischen und Klassischen Archäologie, Ägyptologie, Alten Geschichte, Theologie
und Religionswissenschaft: Interdisziplinäre Tagung vom 1.–2. Februar 2002 an der Freien
Universität Berlin. Edited by C. Metzner-Nebelsick, O. Dally, A. Hausleiter, E. Kaiser,
H. Peter-Röcher, I. Prohl, J. F. Quack and F. Rumscheid. Rhaden, Germany: Marie
Leidorf, 2003.
Teissier, Beatrice. Egyptian Iconography on Syro-Palestinian Cylinder Seals of the Middle
Bronze Age. Orbis Biblicus et Orientalis: Series Archaeologica 11. Fribourg: Universitäts-
verlag Fribourg, 1996.
Tietze, Christian, Eva R. Lange, and Klaus Hallof. “Ein neues Exemplar des Kanopus-
Dekrets aus Bubastis”. Archiv für Papyrusforschung 51 (2005): 1–29, pl. I–III and X–XI.
Valbelle, Dominique. Les ouvriers de la tombe: Deir el-Médineh à l’époque ramesside.
Bibliothèque d’Étude 96. Cairo: Institut français d’archéologie orientale, 1985.
158 joachim friedrich quack

Vandier d’Abbadie, Jeanne. “Deux ostraca figurés”. Bulletin de l’Institut Française

d’Archéologie Orientale 56 (1957): 21–34.
Vittmann, Günter. “Beobachtungen und Überlegungen zu Fremden und Hellenisierten
Ägyptern im Dienste einheimischer Kulte”. Pages 1231–250 in Egyptian Religion, The Last
Thousand Years: Studies Dedicated to the Memory of Jan Quagebeur, Part II. Orientalia
Lovaniensia Analecta 85. Edited by W. Clarysse, A. Schoors and H. Willems. Leuven:
Peeters, 1998.
Vos, Rene L. The Apis Embalming Ritual: P. Vindob. 3873. Orientalia Lovaniensia Analecta
50. Leuven: Peeters, 1993.
Weinfeld, Moshe. “Instructions for Temple Visitors in the Bible and in Ancient Egypt”.
Pages 224–50 in Egyptological Studies. Scripta Hierosolymitana 28. Edited by S. Israelit-
Groll. Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 1982.
Wildung, Dietrich. Ägypten 2000 v. Chr. Die Geburt des Individuums. Munich: Hirmer,
2000.
Wilfong, Terry G. “Menstrual Synchrony and the ‘Place of Women’ in Ancient Egypt (OIM
13512)”. Pages 419–34 in Gold of Praise: Studies on Ancient Egypt in Honor of Edward F.
Wente. Studies in Ancient Oriental Civilizations 58. Edited by E. Teeter and J. A. Larson.
Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1999.
Willems, Harco. “The Embalmer Embalmed: Remarks on the Meaning of the Decoration
of Some Middle Kingdom Coffins”. Pages 343–72 in Essays on Ancient Egypt in Honour
of Herman te Velde. Egyptological Memoirs 1. Edited by Jacobus van Dijk. Groningen:
Styx, 1997.
Žabkar, Louis V. Hymns to Isis in Her Temple at Philae. Hanover: University Press of New
England, 1988.
Zauzich, Karl-Theodor. Die Ägyptische Schreibertradition in Aufbau, Sprache und Schrift
der Demotischen Kaufverträge aus Ptolemäischer Zeit. Ägyptologische Abhandlungen 19.
Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 1968.
 CONCEPTS OF PURITY IN ANATOLIAN RELIGIONS

Manfred Hutter

1. Introduction: Anthropological Approach

When we discuss the topic of purity and pollution, we first have to recall
that such terms have nothing to do with the modern concepts of ‘dirt’
or ‘hygiene’ or of ‘cleanliness’.1 However, an analogy established by Mary
Douglas may be helpful as an initial approach:
In chasing dirt, in papering, decorating, tidying we are not governed by
anxiety to escape disease, but are positively re-ordering our environment,
making it conform to an idea. There is nothing fearful or unreasoning in our
dirt-avoidance: it is a creative movement, an attempt to relate form to func-
tion, to make unity of experience. If this is so with our separating, tidying
and purifying, we should interpret primitive purification and prophylaxis in
the same light.2
In view of an anthropological and symbolic interpretation that also per-
tains methodologically to the history of religions, concepts of purification
and cleanliness therefore have the function of systematizing an unsystem-
atic experience; thoughts on and observations of dirt and pollution in early
cultures, at the same time, include a symbolic consideration of order and
disorder, of life and death. Concepts of (cultic) purity and pollution often
form a binary pair, which allows essential conclusions concerning the reli-
gious system of a particular culture.3 Against this background, a reduction
of ‘pollution’ to material dirt or health concepts4 would therefore not do
justice to the circumstances in the Hittite cultural area. Rather, it has to
be assumed that the concept of pure/polluted is part of a social system in

1 For hygiene and health among the Hittites, cf. Ünal, “Ritual Purity”, 208–23.
2 Douglas, Purity, 2.
3 Cf. Douglas, Purity, 5–6.
4 In this sense Douglas, Purity, 30, talks about ‘medical materialism’: “Some argue that
even the most exotic of ancient rites have a sound hygienic basis. Others, though agreeing
that primitive ritual has hygiene for its object, take the opposite view of its soundness.
For them a great gulf divides our sound ideas of hygiene from the primitive’s erroneous
fancies”. See further Douglas, Purity, 33: “Most primitive peoples are medical materialists
in an extended sense, in so far as they tend to justify their ritual actions in terms of aches
and pains which would afflict them should the rites be neglected”.
160 manfred hutter

which pollution is conceived as a hazard for cosmos or society. Someone

who is polluted—and therefore also polluting towards others—is in a
state that cannot be accepted by society because he has overstepped a
boundary that should have been respected. Due to this breach of liminal-
ity, others become endangered.
This framework provides a starting point for the Hittite cultural area.
Even a cursory reading of Hittite texts quickly reveals that the terms ‘pure’
or ‘to purify’ are frequently mentioned.5 The adjective parkui ‘pure’ not
only conveys a ‘pure’ state but also means ‘free of ’, i.e., ‘pure’ is defined by
the absence of the contrary. Someone is ‘pure’ who has not overstepped
boundaries that would pollute him materially, and, if he has become pol-
luted, he has to be ‘freed’ to rid himself of this ‘dirt’. In the same context,
the texts repeatedly mention that a person becomes ‘pure’ if specific rituals
are carried out; an instruction for temple personnel states accordingly:
Further, those who prepare the daily thick breads, let them be clean (= ritu-
ally pure), let them be washed and removed (of impurities?). Let the hair
and the fingernails be taken (off ) for them, and let them be dressed (in)
clean clothes.6
We find another example in a purification ritual of an AZU-priest; he
holds a cup with water and speaks as follows:
Just as this water is pure and they wash garments with it and purify them,
(and just as) they wash tools with it and purify them, and just as this water
purifies everything and makes it ritually clean, now it may purify you,
O gods, in the same way. Now, you gods, be purified from the evil word, from
oath, from curse, from bloodshed, from tears and from everything (else).
And the ritual client shall be pure in front of you.7
Both texts are instructive concerning the ‘tangible’ concept of purity: One
becomes ‘pure’ through the material removal of pollution, either by wash-
ing or by cutting off or the like, and one becomes free of it ritually at the
same time. The second example can just as well be translated as follows:

5 For detailed references on the semantic field of ‘purity’, cf. Güterbock and Hoffner,
Dictionary: Volume P, 161–74, with the following entries: parkuwa ‘to clear’, parkuwalli ‘pure’
(?), parkuwantariya ‘to be(come) pure’ (?), parkue ‘to be pure’, parkui ‘pure’; parkuiye/a ‘to
be(come) pure’ (?), parkuyatar ‘purification’, parkuemar ‘purification’ (?), parkuešš ‘to be/
become pure’, parkunu ‘to cleanse’. In all cases, I have only given the first meaning of the
word.
6 Taggar-Cohen, Priesthood, 61 (§ 2), cf. also 80–81 (§ 14); see further de Martino,
“Purità”, 349.
7 KUB 43.58 i 40ff.; cf. also Haas, Materia Magica, 141; Wilhelm, “Reinheit”, 197–217, esp.
200.
 concepts of purity in anatolian religions 161

“Now, you gods, be free (pár-ku-wa-e-eš e-eš-tén) from the evil word . . . ”
The fact that tangible things such as blood(shed) and tears are mentioned
in this enumeration also underlines the ‘concrete’ liberation from those
things that are contrary to purity.
Thus, for a first general determination, we may say that the concept of
‘purity’ among the Hittites starts with ‘material dirt’; therefore, ‘purification’
consists of ‘exemption from, being free of ’ such substances, which have to
be washed off, combed off, wiped off, or removed by using incense, etc.8
From this, we can also observe that ‘purity’ is not an abstract (or spiritual)
parameter.9 Someone who is ‘polluted’ is ineligible for certain functions
within society and/or would overstep a boundary, whereby harm would
be done to the social order (and ultimately also to oneself ). As a result,
the maintenance of purity is an essential component of cohabitation and
social order in the Hittite Empire.

2. Purity and Pollution—Some Aspects of the Lexical Field

As a first step, these introductory thoughts require specification, as the

terms that are used embrace some key questions, namely whether these
different terms can be differentiated according to ‘ritual’ or ‘moral’ notions
of purity and/or pollution, or in what way the terminology allows us to dif-
ferentiate between ‘purity’ and ‘sanctity’ and perhaps even reveals inter-
dependencies. First, an overview of the lexical field is required. In Hittite
we have the following central word pairs:10
parkui ‘pure’ opposite: paprant11 ‘polluted’
šuppi ‘pure (in a cultic sense)’ opposite: marša12 ‘inappropriate (for cult)’

8 Textual references for such techniques of purification are given by Haas, Materia
Magica, 70–79.
9 Cf. Wilhelm, “Reinheit”, 198.
10 Tischler, Wörterverzeichnis, 142–43; Hoffner, Glossary, 50, 72. Other terms are also
related to ‘purity’ or ‘pollution’ but only in a certain context, while they primarily have a
different meaning, e.g.: ḫarra ‘to pollute’; cf. Luwian ḫāratar ‘offense, hostility’ (Tischler,
Handwörterbuch, 42; Melchert, Lexicon, 57); gullakuwa ‘atrocious’ (Tischler, Handwörter-
buch, 82); gangadai ‘to purify, to atone for’ (Tischler, Handwörterbuch, 71; cf. Strauß, Reini-
gungsrituale, 101–8); šaknuwant ‘defiled’ (Cohen, Taboos, 61; šaknuwant can be used as ant-
onym of both šuppi and parkui, cf. de Martino, “Purità”, 362 with § 3.2).
11 Hoffner, “Perspectives”, 324.
12 Cf. Hoffner, “Perspectives”, 324, for a further differentiation within the lexical field
marša, of which not all derivations pertain to the field of ‘inappropriate for cult’.
162 manfred hutter

In Luwian13 the following terms provide an initial approach to the topic

‘pure–polluted’:
kumma14 ‘pure, sacred’
papparkuwa ‘to cleanse, purify’15 opposite: paratta16 ‘impurity’
wašḫay(a)17 ‘sacralized’
For Hurrian texts, or those influenced by Hurrian culture, and loanwords,
the following terms should be considered:
itk ‘to be pure’18
parn ‘to be pure’19
šeḫl ‘to be pure’20
This leads to two questions: how do the terms in the three ‘literary and
cultural languages’ of the Hittite Empire relate to each other, and how do
they relate semantically?
The following Hittite-Luwian equivalents are unproblematic: Hittite
parkui and Luwian papparkuwa (including their respective opposites)
are linguistically unambiguous equivalents. The semantic equivalence
of Hittite šuppi and Luwian kumma can also be judged as certain; how-
ever, these are two completely different words, each of which has not
left any trace in the other—closely related—language, so that it may be
possible to speak of a suppletive distribution of two highly semantically
comparable terms in the Old Anatolian languages.21 In spite of this clear

13 ḫalāl(i) ‘pure’ (Melchert, Lexicon, 46); maraḫšiwal(i) ‘polluted’ (Melchert, Lexicon,

139; cf. Hittite mariḫši, Güterbock and Hoffner, Dictionary: Volume P, 186–87).
14 Melchert, Lexicon, 108; cf. also the following from languages related to (cuneiform)
Luwian: In hieroglyphic Luwian we have kumaza ‘priest’ (Payne, Luwian, 147); for Lycian,
cf. Melchert, Lycian Lexicon, 31–32; Neumann, Glossar, 175–78, with derivatives.
15 Melchert, Lexicon, 165 (cf. Hittite parkuwai).
16 Melchert, Lexicon, 167; maybe the divine name dParattašši is also related to this
word.
17 Cf. Melchert, Lexicon, 263–64; for Lycian correspondent words, cf. Melchert, Lycian
Lexicon, 78; Neumann, Glossar, 417.
18 Wegner, Einführung, 224.
19 Wegner, Einführung, 237; cf. also parneški- ‘brush’ (?), which might be derived from
this Hurrian verb (Haas, Materia Magica, 732).
20 Wegner, Einführung, 241; see further šiḫilli(ya) ‘pertinent to purification’ (IBoT 2.192
Ro. 23).
21 Luwian kumma- is related to Palaic aš-kummauwa ‘meat’ (literally meaning ‘pure
for the mouth’); the semantic shift from ‘pure’ to ‘(pure) meat’ is also attested in Hittite
for UZUšuppa ‘meat’ as a derivative from šuppi ‘pure’. Thus kumma might reflect the com-
mon Indo-European Anatolian word. Although šuppi is well attested since the Old Hittite
period (and also earlier in personal names from the Old Assyrian period in Kültepe), it can
be linked neither with Inner-Anatolian nor with other Indo-European languages (Kloek-
horst, Dictionary, 790).
 concepts of purity in anatolian religions 163

equivalence of šuppi and kumma as a word pair, the distribution of ‘purity

terms’ is more complex within the Luwian tradition because wašḫay(a)
hardly differs from kumma.22
Reconstruction of the compatibility between the Hittite and Hurrian
terms is complicated by the still-insufficient knowledge of the Hurrian
lexicon. The verb parn ‘to be pure’ can be regarded as equivalent to parkui
because in the Hurrian and Hittite versions of the Allaiturahhi ritual these
two terms correspond to each other.23 The noun formation itkalzi as a
title of a series of rituals is explained and translated in a colophon of this
series as aiš šuppiyaḫḫuwaš ‘(cultic) purification of the mouth’.24 Again, it
is still difficult to decide if šeḫl should rather be regarded as a probable
equivalent of Hittite parkui or šuppi. In Hurrian as well as Hittite texts
the collocation ‘water of “purity” ’ appears repeatedly;25 however, there
are also comparable expressions that qualify the ‘purity’ of water either
with itkalzi or with parkui or šuppi. Therefore, an unequivocal one-to-one
semantic attribution is not yet possible.26 Yet these comparisons reveal
the following: while Hittite features an obvious, clear two-part scheme,
Luwian attests an interpretable tripartition; the Hurrian tripartition is still
dubious. This can be presented in table form as follows:2728

Hittite Luwian Hurrian

‘pure’ parkui papparkuwai parn
‘pure’ (in a cultic sense) šuppi kumma27 itk(alzi)28

Summing up this condensed overview of the lexical field, we see that the
topic of purity and pollution is clearly present in all three ‘cultic layers’
of the Hittite culture. On the basis of the lexical field—although only

22 Hutter, “Aspects”, 256–57.

23 Güterbock and Hoffner, Dictionary: Volume P, 175; cf. the references in Haas and
Wegner, Rituale, Nr. 2 Rs. 64–65 and Nr. 19 i 20–22.
24 Haas, Serien, Nr. 6 iv 38–39; Nr. 9 iv 36–37; Strauß, Reinigungsrituale, 151.
25 Cf. Haas, Materia Magica, 142: šiye=na šeḫelli=ve=na // šeḫelliyas watar.
26 In rituals from Kizzuwatna the derivation šeḫellišiki can often be found—possibly
an object in which ‘pure’ water for rituals is kept or possibly, secondarily, the denomina-
tion of a specific ritual act that is meant to effect purification (Tremouille, “Objet”; Strauß,
Reinigungsrituale, 98–101). Therefore it is also possible to instead limit the base šeḫl to a
specific field of purification, so that this would again result in a binary scheme parn/itk
in Hurrian.
27 The distinction between wašḫa and kumma- remains unclear.
28 At the moment it is not possible to decide whether šeḫl primarily means simply
‘pure’ or whether it means ‘pure in a cultic setting’.
164 manfred hutter

provisionally and with some uncertainties—we can see that the concept
of ‘purity’ plays an essential role in the conduct of one’s life.

3. ‘Pure’ or ‘Sacred’?

Until now I have acknowledged this dichotomy tacitly by translating

‘pure’ or ‘pure (in a cultic sense)’. Can such semantic differentiation be
justified? What are the differences and nuances in the meanings of the
terms? Would it be possible to say ‘sacred’? That the Hittite tradition dis-
tinguished between the two terms is, in my opinion, convincingly shown
in those contexts where parkui and šuppi are employed next to one
another. For instance, a prayer of Mursili to the Sun-Goddess of Arinna
(and another, largely identical prayer to Telipinu) says the following:
You, O Sun-Goddess of Arinna, are an honored goddess. To you, my goddess,
there are revered temples in Hatti, but in no other land are there any such
for you. Only in Hatti they provide for pure and holy festivals and rituals for
you, but in no other land do they provide any such for you. Lofty temples
adorned with silver and gold you have only in Hatti, and in no other land is
there anything for you.29
Such a juxtaposition leads to the discussion of semantic differentiation
between the two terms, and Albrecht Götze was the first, in 1933, to take
a clear stance when he wrote, “Therefore, I see in šuppi a higher degree
of purity which I believe can best be translated by the word ‘sacred,
sacrosanct’ ”.30 About a decade ago, Harry A. Hoffner also expressed him-
self in favor of this viewpoint and wrote, “Although not all societies distin-
guish with separate terms the concepts of ‘holy/sacred’ and ‘pure’, Hittite is
one of those which does so”.31 That is, parkui means simply ‘pure’, whereas
šuppi as ‘sacred’ has another (numinous) quality. Rita Strauß writes less
explicitly:
šuppi serves in this case to indicate the original pure state which is lost as
a result of offences committed by oneself or by someone else. The attribute
parkui- marks a different degree, a different quality of purity. Generally it

29 KUB 24.3+; Singer, Prayers, 51; cf. also the prayer to Telipinu: KUB 24.2 obv. 18–19;
Singer, Prayers, 55.
30 Götze, Annalen, 233. Original quote in German: “Darum sehe ich in šuppi einen
höheren Grad von Reinheit, den ich durch die Übersetzung ‘heilig, sakrosankt’ am besten
zu treffen glaube”.
31 Hoffner, Perspectives, 324.
 concepts of purity in anatolian religions 165

designates the purity which is sought again in cathartic rites and asked for
in the recitations.32
However, the ‘original pure state’ associated with šuppi implies that
R. Strauß, too, seems to rate the purity associated with šuppi higher than
parkui.
This ‘hierarchical’ differentiation, which I see being met with broad
approval in Hittitological discussions, has, however, been seriously ques-
tioned and even rejected by Gernot Wilhelm, who says,
Translating the word šuppi (and its derivatives), with ‘sacred’, as is quite
often done, is not entirely unproblematic. This translation is based on the
opinion that šuppi designates a higher degree of purity than parkui ‘pure’.33
Wilhelm’s criticism of the translation of šuppi with ‘sacred’ is partially cor-
rect, because by using the term ‘sanctity’ Götze and Hoffner introduce the
concept of numinousness, which is contrasted at the same time with a
‘profane’ scope. However, in Hittite,
No concept has developed that denotes the immediate divine sphere
of power and impact as such and contrasts it with the human normalcy
beyond the sacred sphere; in other words: A concept that corresponds to
the pair of opposites ‘sacred vs. profane’ apparently did not develop, but
rather Old Anatolian thought is entirely determined by the categories ‘pure
vs. polluted’.34
In this regard we can certainly agree with G. Wilhelm’s rejection of the
translation of šuppi as ‘sacred’. But we must next ask what, then, are the
differences between šuppi and parkui that, according to Wilhelm, both
and equally express the category ‘pure’.

32 Strauß, Reinigungsrituale, 247. Original quote in German: “šuppi dient hier zur Kenn-
zeichnung des ursprünglich reinen Zustandes, dessen man durch selbst–oder fremdver-
schuldete Vergehen verlustig geht. Einen anderen Grad, eine andere Qualität von Reinheit
markiert das Attribut parkui. Es bezeichnet in der Regel die durch kathartische Riten wie-
der angestrebte und in den Rezitationen erbetene Reinheit”.
33 Wilhelm, “Reinheit”, 203. Original quote in German: “Wenn das Wort šuppi (und
Ableitungen) öfter als ‘heilig’ übersetzt wird, so ist dies nicht ganz unproblematisch. Dieser
Übersetzung liegt die Auffassung zugrunde, dass šuppi einen höheren Grad von Reinheit
bezeichne als parkui ‘rein’ ”.
34 Wilhelm, “Reinheit”, 204–5. Original quote in German: “. . . keine Begrifflichkeit ent-
wickelt, die die unmittelbare göttliche Macht- und Wirkenssphäre als solche kennzeichnet
und ihr die menschliche Normalität außerhalb der Sakralsphäre gegenüberstellt; mit ande-
ren Worten: eine Begrifflichkeit, die dem Oppositionspaar ‘heilig vs. profan’ entspricht, ist
anscheinend nicht entwickelt worden, vielmehr ist das altanatolische Denken ganz von
den Kategorien ‘rein vs. unrein’ beherrscht”.
166 manfred hutter

At this point I return to the thoughts borrowed from Mary Douglas at

the beginning of this paper, in order to further analyze the categories pure
vs. polluted on the basis of the terms parkui and šuppi. Purity (and pollu-
tion) is part of the social system, and pollution is considered dangerous
in all aspects of life. The high number of so-called ‘purification rituals’ in
the Hittite tradition—some referring to cultic offenses but many referring
to interpersonal behavior, such as sexual problems, disputes or murder,
and others referring to bad omina and the ‘purity’ of the king (which was
linked to his authority and his ability to rule)—serve to maintain balance
within society. If this purity is achieved, the participant in everyday Hittite
life is ‘pure’ (parkui); the kind of purity associated with the adjective šuppi
is only possible if someone is already parkui, but he is not necessarily
šuppi35 because this latter purity is only required for specific activities
in the cult or in dealing with the gods—which is equally relevant for the
strengthening of Hittite society. This, however, means that šuppi is not
a hierarchically higher purity but a special category of purity that only
concerns an (important) subsystem of Hittite culture, namely the cult,
whereas parkui is essential for the entire cultural system. Thus Mursili’s
statement that only in the Hittite Empire are ‘pure’ and ‘sacred’ festivals
celebrated makes excellent sense: festivals are parkui because they serve
society as a whole,36 and they are šuppi because some festival participants
are involved in concrete cultic acts dealing with the gods; these festival
participants must also be šuppi for their part. These two terms therefore
express the double function of the festivals in the Hittite Empire regarding
the regalement and strengthening of people and gods, i.e. the ‘horizontal-
social’ and the ‘vertical-theological’ aspects of festival.

4. Liminality and Danger

Regular everyday life in Hittite society requires purity and at the same
time the certainty that such a life is protected from negative forces, of
which pollution (papratar) is perceived as one. This results in regulations
concerning purity and pollution, in order to avert the negative effects
caused by the latter. A typical example is recorded in the Hittite laws § 44b:

35 Cf. also Hoffner, “Perspectives”, 324.

36 Hutter, Interdependenz.
 concepts of purity in anatolian religions 167

If anybody performs the purification ritual on a person, he shall dispose the

remnants (of the ritual) in the incineration dumps. But if he disposes them
in someone’s house, it is sorcery (and) a case for the king.37
As this law is already known in Old Hittite (KBo 6.2), it also confirms the
old age of the concept that danger—in the worst case witchcraft, but also
‘normal’ contagion with pollution—may emanate from materials that were
tainted with the pollution of a person in the process of their purification.
Therefore Hittite rituals often document the concept that pollution must
be deposited in a safe—and deserted—place, beyond the boundaries of
human civilization. In the Samuha ritual CTH 480 (KUB 29.7+ Rs. 48ff.),
the negative things that burden and pollute the ritual client and thereby
affect his capacity to act in society are set into a boat as figurines; then the
ritual expert pours oil on the boat, sets it on the river and speaks:
Just as the river carries the boat, and then there cannot be seen any trace
of it—who has produced an evil word, an oath, a curse (and) impurity
(papratar), the river shall carry it away. And just as the trace of the boat is
not seen anymore, in the same way the evil word shall not go to the god,
and it neither shall reach the ritual client. Now both the god and the ritual
client should be pure ( parkui) in that matter.38
Rivers are an adequate place in this regard, either because they can carry
the pollution far away or because they are symbolically considered bor-
derlines, so that it can be said that the purification takes place ‘beyond
the river’,39 i.e., outside of the—at least symbolically imagined—‘civilized’
territory of the community. Similarly Tunnawiya’s so-called ‘ritual of the
river’ names the location of purification as the place “where a field does
not exist, where a plough does not reach”.40 Sometimes the wasteland as
a general term is named as the location of purification.41 Ritual residues
can also be deposited in the underworld (the Dark Earth), which is con-
sidered a location of pollution, and a well-known mythologem is meant
to ensure that the pollution has become ineffective: after the purification
of Telipinu, removing his anger that disrupts life in the Hittite Empire and
brings general misery, it is said,

37 Hoffner, “Laws”, 53; cf. Haas, Materia Magica, 135.

38 Cf. also Haas, Materia Magica, 574.
39 KUB 36.83 iv 10; Haas, Geschichte, 908.
40 KUB 7.53+ i 41–42; cf. also VBoT 24 i 31–33, Anniwiyanni’s ritual: “We go to the moun-
tains, an untouched place. And where a plough never reaches, there we go”.
41 Cf. Haas, Geschichte, 907.
168 manfred hutter

May Telipinu’s anger, wrath, sin, and sullenness depart. May the house
release it. May the middle . . . release it. May the window release it. May the
hinge release it. May the middle courtyard release it. May the city release
it. May the gate complex release it. May the King’s Road release it. May it
not go into the fruitfield, garden, or forest. May it go the route of the Sun
Goddess (of the Dark Earth).
The gatekeeper opened the seven doors. He drew back the seven bars.
Down in the Dark Earth stand bronze palḫi-vessels. Their lids are of lead.
Their latches are of iron. That which goes into them does not come up again;
it perishes therein. So may they seize Telipinu’s anger, wrath, sin, and sul-
lenness, and may they not come back (here).42
The motive of the palḫi-vessel, in which everything that is polluted is safely
locked away, is also documented in several purification rituals,43 and the
quoted section emphasizes once more that pollution as contaminant is
unwanted in cultivated fields and gardens in everyday life, in order to
prevent the danger that results from pollution. Therefore pollution is—if
possible—brought beyond the borderline separating the normal living
area from the barren wasteland or the underworld.
In principle, this danger threatens everybody, but the king as represen-
tative of Hittite society and guarantor of the continued existence of this
society must be protected specifically with regard to purity. The viola-
tion of his purity threatens the state order and world order, so that some
narrations show clearly that whoever causes this pollution of the king—
perhaps unintentionally—also forfeits his life. This ‘purity’ of the king
illustrates—more clearly than other examples—the above-mentioned
differentiation between parkui and šuppi, as pointed out—though with a
different interpretation—by Harry Hoffner:
The Hittite king sought to maintain his purity at all times, and yet, in the
course of festivals the action šuppiyaḫḫ- is often performed on him to pre-
pare him for intimate concourse with deities.44
This differentiation addressed by Hoffner emphasizes once again that
regular ‘purity’ is a basic component of Hittite thought, so that the king
in particular should be permanently pure; this is also reflected in the fact
that many purification rituals are performed on behalf of the king or the
royal couple. The king—as with every Hittite, in principle—only has to
adopt the status of šuppi- for specific cultic functions.

42 KUB 17.10 iv 8–19; Hoffner, Myths, 17; cf. Haas, “Blutritus”, 80–81.
43 Cf. Haas, “Blutritus”, 79–82; Wilhelm, “Reinheit”, 199–200.
44 Hoffner, “Perspectives”, 325. Cf. e.g. the text KBo 17.74 + 21.25 + ABoT 9 i 40–42.
 concepts of purity in anatolian religions 169

5. ‘Cultic Purity’ as Subsystem

Thus the adjective šuppi as a designation for cultic purity has a well-
defined function and relevance in Hittite thought. The cult personnel are
often denominated by the epithet šuppi, for which Ada Taggar-Cohen
has compiled the most important evidence in her study about Hittite
priests.45 Although priests—like other cult personnel—are in principle
‘pure’ (parkui), the exercise of their priestly activities requires a ‘special
form’ of purity. In my opinion, we should therefore not assume a special
‘status’ for priests who are characterized as šuppi- within the priestly hier-
archy, as is suggested by Taggar-Cohen: “We may assume that SANGA-
priests who are high priests may also be called ‘sacred SANGA-priests’ ”.46
Taggar-Cohen rightly qualifies her statement by pointing out that there
are also “low-ranking sacred SANGA-priests”. Therefore we should rather
assume that the epithet šuppi expresses the active ‘involvement’ in cult,
i.e. a temporary purity—which is associated with a cultic function47—but
not purity as a primary component.
This interpretation is supported by other texts. The observations made
by R. Strauß on the 10th tablet of the itkalzi ritual are important in this
context;48 this ritual is performed for the royal couple Tuthaliya and
Taduheba. Strauß compares the ritual—or the ‘title’ aiš šuppiuwaš given in
the colophon—with the Mesopotamian ‘mouth-washing rituals’ (mīs pî);
the latter serve in the investiture of a new cult image and function to
‘breathe life’ into the divine image. In Mesopotamia, other ‘mouth wash-
ings’ also take place at the restoration of a statue to make it ‘suitable for
cult’ again; mouth washing for sacrificial animals, persons, priests or kings
also exists. Only through the execution of this ritual act are “successful
participation in rituals and the positive contact between the earthly and
divine world”49 enabled. Based on these Mesopotamian findings, Strauß

45 Taggar-Cohen, Priesthood, 148–52.

46 Taggar-Cohen, Priesthood, 152.
47 This fits the passages in which ‘sacrificial animals’ or sacrifices and/or temples are
characterized as šuppi (de Martino, Purità, 350, 361 + § 3.1); see also the list in Götze,
Annalen, 234, of gods, priests, sanctuaries, etc., which are all šuppi; as well as lists of things
that are treated as šuppiyaḫḫ. Cf. also Strauß, Reinigungsrituale, 247, on CTH 481, where
the temple wall is washed with fine oil and water so that it is šuppi; at the end of the
ritual the statue, all cultic utensils and everything belonging to the new deity are ‘cultically
cleansed’ (suppiešš).
48 Strauß, Reinigungsrituale, 181–82.
49 Berlejung, Theologie, 184. Original quote in German: “macht dadurch die erfolgreiche
Teilnahme an Ritualen und den positiven Kontakt der irdischen Welt mit der göttlichen
erst möglich”.
170 manfred hutter

points out that even in Hittite ritual texts not only does a mouth ‘washing’
sometimes occur,50 but such texts and rituals can also be consulted for
the interpretation of the 10th tablet of the itkalzi ritual.51 She concludes
the following:
Therefore the itkalzi ritual could also be necessary to re-establish the ritual
purity of the royal couple or, instead of a justification/instauration, for a
(renewed) confirmation and stabilization of their reign. Not least because
of the parallels with CTH 471, the itkalzi ritual could be interpreted as ritual
for the ordination of Tašmišarri to the priesthood or his confirmation in
priesthood/priestly function.52
The last of these possibilities seems to me to be the most plausible—
also compared to the ritual of Ammihatna53 in CTH 471: The itkalzi ritual
brings the ritual expert into a state of purity ‘suitable for cult’, which qual-
ifies him precisely for his task as a priest.
The interpretation that šuppi is closely connected to the purity nec-
essary for the cult can ultimately be confirmed by a ‘non-religious’ text,
namely § 164–165 of the Hittite Laws:
If anyone goes (to someone’s house) to impress (something), starts a quar-
rel, and opens either the (home owner’s) sacrificial bread (ḫarši) or libation
wine, he shall give one sheep, 10 loaves of bread, and one jug of . . . -beer, and
reconsecrate his house (šuppiyaḫḫi).54
The legal text is significant for the interpretation of the lexical field šuppi-.55
The offense seems to be that the domestic cult is rendered impossible
by the ‘disturbance’ of the sacrificial bread and libation wine; in order to

50 Cf. Strauß, Reinigungsrituale, 182, for further references for the ‘purification of the
mouth’ of divine images, of female ritual clients in some birth rituals (e.g. KBo 17.65 obv.
10–12; KUB 9.22 ii 28–30) or in the Old Hittite ritual for the royal couple (KBo 17.1+).
51 The objection or doubt put forth by Strauß, Reinigungsrituale, 185, that the itkalzi
ritual does not include a direct rite of purification of the mouth, although it is denoted
as ‘mouth cleansing’, is not necessary; cf. some taknaz da-rituals that only have the ‘title’
without the ritual client being ‘taken from the earth’. For further discussion of itkalzi,
cf. also Mouton, Rituels, 65ff.
52 Strauß, Reinigungsrituale, 186. Original quote in German: “Somit könnte auch das
itkalzi-Ritual zum Zwecke der Wiederherstellung der rituellen Reinheit des Königspaares
oder, statt einer Begründung, der (erneuten) Bestätigung und der Stabilisierung seiner
Herrschaft zu vollziehen sein. Nicht zuletzt wegen der Parallelen zu CTH 471 ließe sich das
itkalzi-Ritual als solches der Priesterweihe Tašmišarris oder seiner Bestätigung in einem
Priesteramt deuten”.
53 Strauß, Reinigungsrituale, 153 points out that the ‘purification’ for Ammihatna identi-
fies him as a cultic functionary.
54 Hoffner, Laws, 132.
55 Cf. also de Martino, “Purità”, 350; Hoffner, “Perspectives”, 324.
 concepts of purity in anatolian religions 171

remedy this, not only material compensation but also a ‘re-consecration’

of the house are required, so that in the future the domestic cult can take
place again as an important—religious—part of a family-based society,
in order to support their living together. Indeed, religion in the Hittite
Empire was practiced in the ‘official’ state cult; but for the religious prac-
tice of the individual, the domestic cult was clearly more important than
the state cult. To be able to perform these important religious activities,
both the house and the householder must be šuppi-.56

6. Conclusion

In summary, it can be said that šuppi denominates the specific cult-

related ‘purity’ as ‘sub-category’ and thus provides an interesting insight
into an area of Hittite religious practice, whereas parkui reflects general
purity (as opposed to everyday pollution). Thus the categories ‘pure’ and
‘polluted’ establish an organizing scheme that helps deal with everyday life
and provides orientation—or disorientation—within society. The terms
from the three different languages of the Hittite Empire that express the
word pair ‘pure vs. polluted’ show that this point of view was common in
Anatolia and do not allow any specific attribution to the so-called ‘Luwian’
or ‘Hurrian’ or ‘Hittite’ cultic layer. When we can in fact attribute specific
texts to one of these cultic layers with regard to their (cultural- or religio-)
geographical origin, it is not because of a fundamental understanding
of ‘pure’/‘polluted’, but because of individual themes, ritual elements or
divine names. As far as the few Old Hittite examples allow us to judge,
this concept, at least in its basic principles, seems to have changed
only slightly during the whole Hittite period. Potential ‘innovation’ or
‘influence’ by concepts from outside of Asia Minor imparted by the
Hurrians was well integrated into the system, as we have seen in the case
of specific Mesopotamian elements in the itkalzi ritual.
As ‘purity’ has greatly influenced Hittite thought, it must finally be asked
if the Hittites should be considered ‘purity fanatics’. This would inevitably
lead to a vision of the Hittites living in a ‘society of fear’, their one and
only aim to avoid any kind of pollution. The latter was probably not the
case, because in Hittite culture a variety of purification mechanisms can
be found that are often dealt with in ‘magical rituals’. Without entering

56 Cf. Hittite laws, § 166–167 (Hoffner, Laws, 133–34).

172 manfred hutter

into a theoretical discussion about ‘magic’ (and its relation to religion),

the qualification of many of these rituals as ‘magical’ is not correct. We
can rather consider these ritual texts to be a corpus that allows very dif-
ferent ‘purifications’—and I assume that these texts could generally have
a practical purpose, too, being not just the product of a scribe’s education,
even if the texts do not provide ‘descriptions’ of concretely performed rit-
uals. The common denominator in these rituals—which definitely have
different purposes—is to bring ‘order’ to society and to regulate the place
of individual persons within the community, but also to re-integrate per-
sons into society who were excluded (or had excluded themselves) from
society due to ‘pollution’. With these mechanisms, an instrument was
thus available that, in spite of the emphasis on purity (and on the danger
emanating from pollution), was sufficient to prevent the Hittites from liv-
ing in constant fear of pollution, which would have paralyzed any activity.
The model ‘purity vs. pollution’, rather, was an explanatory model that
allowed not only the interpretation of grievances or problems in society
but also the resolution of such grievances with the help of suitable ritual
experts.

Abbreviations

ABoT Balkan, Kemal, ed. Ankara Arkeoloji Müzesinde bulunan Boğazköy

tabletleri. T. C. Millî Eğitim Bakanligi. Eski Eserler ve Müzeler Genel
Müdürlüğü yayınlarından 3,3. Istanbul: Millî Eğitim Basımevi,
1948.
CTH Laroche, Emanuel, ed. Catalogue des textes Hittites. Paris: Klinck-
sieck, 1971.
IBoT Eren, Mustafa, ed. Istanbul Arkeoloji Müzelerinde bulunan Boğazköy
tabletleri secmementinler. Ankara, 1988.
VBoT Götze, Albrecht, ed. Verstreute Boghazköi-Texte. Marburg, 1930.
 concepts of purity in anatolian religions 173

Bibliography

Beckman, Gary M., ed., and Harry Hoffner, trans. Hittite Myths. Writings from the Ancient
World 2, Atlanta, Ga.: Scholars Press, 1990.
Berlejung, Angelika. Die Theologie der Bilder: Herstellung und Einweihung von Kultbildern in
Mesopotamien und die alttestamentliche Bilderpolemik. Orbis Biblicus et Orientalis 162.
Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1998.
Cohen, Yoram. Taboos and Prohibitions in Hittite Society: A Study of the Hittite Expression
natta āra (‘not permitted’). Texte der Hethiter 24. Heidelberg: Universitätsverlag
C. Winter, 2002.
De Martino, Stefano. “Purità dei sacerdoti e dei luoghi di culto nell’ Anatolia ittita”.
Orientalia 73,4 (2004): 348–62.
Douglas, Mary. Purity and Danger: An Analysis of the Concepts of Pollution and Taboo.
London: Routledge, 1966.
Götze, Albrecht, ed. Die Annalen des Muršiliš. Mitteilungen der Vorderasiatisch-Ägyptischen
Gesellschaft 38. Leipzig: Hinrichs, 1933.
Güterbock, Hans G., and Harry A. Hoffner, eds. The Hittite Dictionary of the Oriental
Institute of the University of Chicago. Volume P. Chicago: The Oriental Institute of the
University of Chicago, 1995.
Haas, Volkert. Materia Magica et Medica Hethitica: Ein Beitrag zur Heilkunde im Alten
Orient. 2 vols. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2003.
——. Geschichte der hethitischen Religion. Handbuch der Orientalistik: Abteilung 1, Der
Nahe und Mittlere Osten 15. Leiden: Brill, 1994.
——. “Ein hethitischer Blutritus und die Deponierung der Ritualrückstände nach hethiti-
schen Quellen”. Pages 67–85 in Religionsgeschichtliche Beziehungen zwischen Kleinasien,
Nordsyrien und dem Alten Testament. Orbis Bibilicus et Orientalis 129. Edited by
B. Janowski, K. Koch and G. Wilhelm. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1993.
——. Die Serien itkaḫi und itkalzi des AZU-Priesters, Rituale für Tašmišarri und Tatuhepa
sowie weitere Texte mit Bezug auf Tašmišarri. Corpus der Hurritischen Sprachdenkmäler:
1. Abteilung, Die Texte aus Bogazköy 1. Rome: Multigrafica Editrice, 1984.
Haas, Volkert, and Ilse Wegner. Die Rituale der Beschwörerinnen SALŠU.GI. 2 vols. Corpus
der Hurritischen Sprachdenkmäler: 1. Abteilung, Die Texte aus Bogazköy 5. Rome:
Multigrafica Editrice, 1988.
Hoffner, Harry A. “Agricultural Perspectives on Hittite Laws § 167–169”. Pages 319–30
in Acts of the IIIrd International Congress of Hittitology. Edited by S. Alp and A. Süel.
Ankara: Hizmet Aralik, 1998.
——, eds. The Laws of the Hittites: A Critical Edition. Documenta et Monumenta Orientis
Antiqui 23. Leiden: Brill, 1997.
——. An English-Hittite Glossary. Revue Hittite et Asianique XXV/80. Paris: Librairie
C. Klincksieck, 1967.
Hutter, Manfred. “Die Interdependenz von Festen und Gesellschaft bei den Hethitern”.
Pages 73–87 in Fest und Eid: Instrumente der Herrschaftssicherung im Alten Orient.
Kulturelle und sprachliche Kontakte 3. Edited by D. Prechel. Würzburg: Ergon Verlag,
2008.
——. “Aspects of Luwian Religion”. Pages 211–80 in The Luwians. Handbook of Oriental
Studies: Section 1, The Near and Middle East 68. Edited by H. C. Melchert. Leiden: Brill,
2003.
Kloekhorst, Alwin. Etymological Dictionary of the Hittite Inherited Lexicon. Leiden Indo-
European Etymological Dictionary Series 5. Leiden: Brill, 2008.
Melchert, H. Craig. Cuneiform Luvian Lexicon. Lexica Anatolica 2. Chapel Hill, NC.: H. C.
Melchert, 1993.
——. Lycian Lexicon. Lexica Anatolica 1. Chapel Hill, NC.: H. C. Melchert, 1989.
174 manfred hutter

Mouton, Alice. Les Rituels de naissance Kizzuwatniens: Un exemple de rite de passage en

Anatolie Hittite. Collections de l’Université Marc Bloch, Strasburg: Études d’Archéologie
et d’Histoire Ancienne. Paris: De Boccard, 2008.
Neumann, Günter. Glossar des Lykischen: Überarbeitet und zum Druck gebracht von Johann
Tischler. Dresdner Beiträge zur Hethitologie 21. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2007.
Payne, Annick. Hieroglyphic Luwian. Elementa Linguarum Orientis 3. Wiesbaden:
Harrassowitz, 2004.
Singer, Itamar. Hittite Prayers. Writings from the Ancient World 11. Atlanta, Ga: Scholars
Press, 2002.
Strauß, Rita. Reinigungsrituale aus Kizzuwatna: Ein Beitrag zur Erforschung hethitischer
Ritualtradition und Kulturgeschichte. Berlin, New York: de Gruyter, 2006.
Taggar-Cohen, Ada. Hittite Priesthood. Texte der Hethiter 26. Heidelberg: Universitätsverlag
C. Winter, 2006.
Tischler, Johann. Hethitisches Handwörterbuch: Mit dem Wortschatz der Nachbarsprachen.
Innsbrucker Beiträge zur Sprachwissenschaft 128. Innsbruck: Institut für Sprachen und
Literaturen der Universität, 2001.
——. Hethitisch-Deutsches Wörterverzeichnis. Innsbrucker Beiträge zur Sprachwissens-
chaft 39. Innsbruck: Institut für Sprachwissenschaft der Universität, 1982.
Tremouille, Marie-Claude. “Un Objet cultuel: le šeḫelliški”. Micenei ed Egeo-Anatolici 38
(1996): 74–93.
Ünal, Ahmet. “Ritual Purity versus Physical Impurity in Hittite Anatolia: Public Health and
Structures for Sanitation according to Cuneiform Texts and Archaeological Remain”.
Pages 208–23 in Uluslararası 1. Hititologi Kongresi Bildirileri (19–21 Temmuz 1990). Edited
by S. Alp. Ankara: Hizmet Ciltevi, 1992.
Wegner, Ilse. Einführung in die hurritische Sprache. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2000.
Wilhelm, Gernot: “Reinheit und Heiligkeit: Zur Vorstellungswelt altanatolischer Ritualistik”.
Pages 197–217 in Levitikus als Buch. Bonner Biblische Beiträge 119. Edited by. H. J. Fabry
and H. W. Jüngling. Berlin: Philo Verlagsgesellschaft, 1999.
 ASPECTS OF PURITY IN THE PHOENICIAN WORLD

Hans-Peter Mathys

1. Some Preliminary Considerations

Little information can be found about purity in the Phoenician (and Punic)
sources, be it in inscriptions, iconography or archaeology—even less than
with regard to other aspects of religion in this cultural area. Even Greek
and Latin secondary sources do not provide much more data. In particu-
lar, the two writings that provide the most comprehensive information
about ancient Phoenician culture, instead of just fragmentary data, ‘De
Dea Syria’ and ‘Sanchuniathon’ (partly preserved in Eusebius’ Praeparatio
evangelica), are entirely silent about this issue.
Before we discuss in more detail the limited evidence we have, one
basic issue can be usefully brought to the fore, namely, how the fragmen-
tary data we have at our disposal may possibly be taken one step further
by including some comparative elements in the discussion. One general
inference, in particular, may prove useful in this regard. The small soci-
eties of Israel and Judah shared many religious ideas and practices with
the Phoenicians; or, alternatively (but this is only a variant of the same
conception), some groups in Israel and Judah fought intensely against
some ideas and practices because they considered them to be extrane-
ous and, thus, not compatible with the cult of YHWH.1 Both the First and
the Second Temple in Jerusalem conformed to Phoenician models and
were dependent on building materials as well as experts from Phoenicia.2
To be sure, no two temples were identical in the Levant; yet there were
nonetheless extensive convergences, at least at the level of general archi-
tectural principles. This is also true for architectural details. Let me briefly
enumerate some examples in order to illustrate this point. In the Second
Temple—although not in the First—the cella was separated from the rest

1 Most of the parallels mentioned in what follows do not come from the Phoenician
home country and are, in addition, from a later time. This adds supplementary weight to
the correlations observed.
2 Compare 1 Kgs 5:19–24; 7:13–14, 40, 45, as well as Ezra 3:7.
176 hans-peter mathys

of the sanctuary by a curtain;3 likewise, the temple in Kition may have

contained a curtain as well.4 During the Achaemenid period, the role of
the temple’s gatekeepers gained importance in Israel, just as was the case
in Phoenicia.5 The clothes of the Jerusalemite priests, which are accu-
rately described in the Old Testament, were probably borrowed from the
Phoenicians; otherwise, it is hard to explain why purple was part of the
clothing of the priests in Jerusalem, since purple, in antiquity, was exclu-
sively a Phoenician product.6 Finally, another feature shared by Israel and
Phoenicia is the coexistence of animal and bird offerings.7
On the basis of these parallels, it is possible to go back, with due cau-
tion, to the issue of ‘purity’ and related rites in Phoenicia. One may pre-
sume that there must not have been fundamental differences between
the two neighbors, especially when it is observed that the correspond-
ing stipulations in the Old Testament do not exhibit any specific anti-
Canaanite orientation.
With these preliminary remarks in mind, we may now turn to a brief
discussion of the epigraphic and archaeological evidence. While there
is, to the best of my knowledge, no iconographic evidence pertaining to
purity conceptions in Phoenicia, some written and archaeological sources
do exist.

3 The account of the construction of the Temple in 1 Kgs 6–8 (cf. especially the LXX’s
version) does not yet mention a curtain; this may be an indication of this account’s rela-
tive antiquity. That the Second Temple contained a curtain can be inferred from certain
indications: the description of the tabernacle, which partly reflects architectural elements
from the Second Temple, mentions a curtain that separates the outer sanctum from the
inner sanctum (Exod 26:31ff.). In addition, 2 Chr 3:14 also mentions a curtain; the position
of this verse makes clear that it separates the inner sanctum from the rest of the sanctuary.
Compare also the account in Matt 27:51, according to which the Temple’s curtain was torn
in the middle at the moment of Jesus’ death.
4 Prkm (disputed reading) is also mentioned in the temple tariff of Kition (KAI 37
A 6.11). Donner and Röllig, Inschriften 2, 54, tentatively suggest ‘curtain watcher’.
5 The Books of Kings do not report about them; 1–2 Chronicles, Ezra, Nehemiah men-
tion them frequently; compare, e.g., the following passages: 1 Chr 16:42; 26:12; 2 Chr 23:19;
Ezra 2:70; Neh 12:47. For Phoenicia, see Magnanini, Iscrizioni (Umm El-Awamid No. 9, 20);
see further Krahmalkov, Punic Dictionary, “šʿr II”; Mathys, “Inschriften”, 281–83.
6 See for instance Exod 39:1.
7 Cf., e.g., Lev 1 and CIS I, 165 (12).
 aspects of purity in the phoenician world 177

2. Epigraphic Evidence

The root ṭhr8 appears in two neo-Punic votive inscriptions:

Hr Guergour N 99
1) Votive offering, which dedicated to Bal Addir Pro-
2) fugus with a pure heart (blb ṭr), the year of the suffetes Arish,
3) the son of gnṭ and . . . bus, the son of Shafot.

Guelma N 3510
1) For the lord Bal Amun
2) offered with a pure
3) heart (blb ṭʾr)

Despite the very fragmentary character of these two inscriptions, one

point, in particular, may be emphasized. Both inscriptions seem to imply
that the votive gift does not have a value as such, as opus operatum, but
only when it is presented with the right attitude. The emphasis on this
point is exceptional within the genre of votive inscriptions. This ‘ethi-
cizing’ use of ṭhr probably presupposes that this term was important in
the cultic context and could be transposed from there to other areas of
social life.
The late Punic inscription known as Cherchell 1, dated with much cau-
tion to the first century ce by Février,11 stipulates the following:12

1) As a memorial of her family for a pleasant and quick woman has

erected the . . . stele
2) Abdeshmun, the son of Azrubal, for his mother, for Tawnat, after made
the tomb monument
3) for the ‘living’, her husband Azurbal, the . . . Shaqlan
4) His mother, to serve fifty years . . . prescribed purity [lṭhrt nktbt]

8 For the writing of the etymological h, see Friedrich and Röllig, Grammatik, §32–33,
17, and especially Kerr, “Environment”, 1–11.
9 The translation of this text, together with the Punic terms in brackets, are taken from
Jongeling, Handbook, 88.
10 The translation of this text, together with the Punic terms in brackets, is taken from
Jongeling, Handbook, 242.
11 Février, “Inscription”, 23–25.
12 Jongeling and Kerr, Epigraphy, 43.
178 hans-peter mathys

5) . . .
6) . . . who passed away at the age of eighty years.

The difficult reading of several letters as well as the disputed significa-

tion of certain expressions complicate the explanation of lṭhrt nktbt. The
expression seems to refer to a form of prescribed purity, which the woman
who died at age 80, and to whom her son erected a ‘memorial’, appar-
ently observed—possibly for fifty years (?). It is unclear whether this form
of purity refers to a cultic function—Février thinks of an honorary func-
tion of sorts within the Christian (!) community13—or to the woman’s
exemplary activity in the domestic sphere; the woman’s characterization
in l. 1 could speak in favor of the latter interpretation, although the term
nktbt ‘prescribed’ in l. 4 does not. At any rate, we have to do here with a
form of purity that is not circumstantial (and which could be achieved,
for instance, through ritual bathing) but that can be acquired only over
the course of an entire life. Here also, therefore, it seems we have to do
with an extended use of the language of ritual purity. More specifically,
the language of purity seems to be used in a ‘moral’ sense, although this
remains somewhat uncertain. Both the Cherchell 1 and 2 inscriptions have
very personal content and display a unique formulation, which sets them
apart from other inscriptions. These features tend to significantly compli-
cate their interpretation.

3. Archaeological Sources

In many traditional cultures, purity implies water. Water was needed in

order to perform several rituals; likewise, ritual purification was usually
required in order to be able to perform certain cultic acts. One may refer,
in this context, to the ritual practice attested in the cultic meals (mrzḥ),
which occupied an important place in Phoenicia;14 there are good reasons
to assume that people washed their hands at the onset of those meals.15
From an archaeological perspective, the importance of water in connec-
tion with purity and purification rituals corresponds to material evidence

13 Février, “Inscription”, 23–25.

14 Brief information in Niehr, Religionen, 135–36; other possible evidence in Mathys,
“Inschriften”, 293–94.
15 The reverse conclusion from water to purity is not allowed. Water also means fertil-
ity, cosmic order, etc.
 aspects of purity in the phoenician world 179

such as water supplies, water tanks, etc. In the case of the Phoenician-
Punic world, the main archaeological evidence includes the following
data. The first item dates from the Late Bronze Age, the others from the
Achaemenid and later periods.
a) In Kamid el-Loz, a courtyard lies in the south of each of the two sanc-
tuaries of the Late Bronze Age. These courtyards contained, among other
things, water tanks, presumably for ritual bathing and libations.16
b) Water plays a distinctive role in Bostan esh-Sheikh, the sanctuary of
Eshmun located outside of Sidon. The sanctuary had a special connection
to healing and personal care.17 In certain inscriptions, Eshmunazor boasts
that he has built a sanctuary to the god Eshmun near ʿn ydll, a name mean-
ing ‘the source ydll’.18 This river corresponds to Nahr el-Awwali, or the
ancient Bostrenus, Asclepius fluvius. An inscription dated to the 14th year
of Bodashtart probably refers to the works that were required in order to
bring the water to the sanctuary.19 From an archaeological perspective,
tanks were part of the architecture of Bostan esh-Sheikh from the begin-
ning.20 Much attention has been given by scholars to the ‘Pool of Astarte’s
Throne’ (Piscine du trône d’Astarté),21 originally a big and unroofed water
basin; it is the only such pool within which a waterproof, sealed ground
slab from the Roman period has been found. The basin was supplied with
water from the North through a pipe. A second pipe pierced the cut-
ting wall toward the ‘Frieze Building’ (Bâtiment des frises) and served as
a drain whenever the flow was excessively high. On the back wall, in a
niche, was located a socle, on which an empty throne of Astarte was rest-
ing. The connection between Astarte—or, correspondingly, her Grecized
form Aphrodite—and water is attested by several late-antique sources.
The Talmudic treaty Abodah Zarah 3, 4 recounts that Rabbi Gamliel had
taken a bath in the pool of Aphrodite in Acco.22 In his History, Zosimos
is able to refer to a peculiar practice that took place in the sanctuary of
Astarte in Afqa. According to him, there was a lake there, which looked

16 About this, cf. Metzger, Kamid El-Loz 7; and Metzger, Kamid El-Loz 8 and passim.
17 About this god and other similar ones, cf. Xella, “Eschmun”.
18 Compare KAI 14, 17 and passim.
19 Xella and Zamora, “Nouvelle inscription”.
20 Details about the canals and water tank can be found in Stucky, Eschmun-Heiligtum,
51–53.
21 About this, cf. Dunand, “Piscine”; details can be found in Stucky, Eschmun-Heiligtum,
147–68.
22 On the Babylonian Talmud, see Goldschmidt, “Synhedrin”, 572; on the Talmud of
Jerusalem, cf. Wevers, Avoda Zara, 102.
180 hans-peter mathys

like an artificial pool. The believer could present offerings to the goddess
there. Besides offerings made of gold and silver, fabrics and other precious
materials are mentioned; if the fabrics fell to the floor of the pool, the
offerings were pleasant to the goddess.23
We may note, finally, that numerous statues of children were found in
the sanctuary of Bostan esh-Sheikh. Cultic ablutions of children probably
took place in basins, which were supplied with running water; unfortu-
nately, we cannot say much more on this aspect of ritual purification in
Bostan esh-Sheikh.24
c) A sacred spring has been excavated at the foot of Tell Amrith,25 quar-
ried out of the rock. The center of the complex consists of a basin, which
is 46.7 × 38.5 × 3.0 meters large. According to H. Niehr, the supply of water
came from a spring situated under the eastern portico.26 In the middle
stood a naos on a rock foundation (dated to the 6th–4th century bce),
on which a divine image (which is no longer preserved) was presumably
standing. Little can be said with certainty about the nature of the cult
that took place on the site. It may be observed, at least, that numerous
(Greek) ceramics have been found in a pool, which might have served for
the retention of the water, probably regarded as sacred.
d) Of special interest is Kition at Cyprus, where two sacral complexes
have been excavated. In this study, we are concerned only with the one
from Bambula. Built in the 9th century bce and then progressively ampli-
fied, it experienced an important expansion during the 5th century bce.
The rectangular building, which was dedicated to religious ceremonies,
contained important hydraulic installations.
Ce monument est remarquable pour le nombre et la qualité de ses installa-
tions hydrauliques, puits perdus, égouts, citernes, puits; il était rempli d’une
très belle céramique grecque importée, dont les formes, coupes ou skyphoi,
témoignent de la fréquence des célébrations de banquets ou de libations.27

23 ΒΙΒΛΙΟΝ ΠΡΩΤΟΝ LVIII, 1–2; text and French translation in Paschoud, Zosime, 50.
Details about Aphrodite in Sozomenos’ works can be found in Stucky, Eschmun-Heiligtum,
159 n. 733: On a specific day, Aphrodite is said to have risen as a flame from the rock and
to have fallen into the source. In De Dea Syria 8, the corresponding river is called Adonis
(beloved of Astarte); Greek text with English translation in Attridge and Oden, Syrian God-
dess, 14–15.
24 Cf. Stucky, Skulpturen, 29–38.
25 The following details according to Niehr, Religionen, 129–30.
26 Niehr, Religionen, 130: “Die Wasserzufuhr erfolgte über eine unter dem östlichen Por-
tikus gelegene Quelle”.
27 Caubet, “Sanctuaires”, 158.
 aspects of purity in the phoenician world 181

In French-speaking research, these installations are easily connected

above all with the ‘lord (or lords) of water’ (bʿl mym),28 who figures as one
of the beneficiaries of offerings on the temple tariff of Kition. However,
this intriguing theory relies upon a reading of the inscription that has not
found general acceptance.29
As we can see from this overall survey, it is hardly possible to draw gen-
eral conclusions from this scarce epigraphic and archaeological evidence.
At most, it may be tentatively suggested that during the Achaemenid
period, where the healing and welfare of individuals came to play a cen-
tral role in religion,30 purity might also have taken extra significance in the
Phoenician-Punic area. This is corroborated, in particular, by the impor-
tance of water in the various cultic sites of that time. Finally, the inscrip-
tion Cherchell 1 also shows that the language of purity could be used in
order to describe and summarize an entire life. Here, we have apparently
to do with an extended use of that concept, which is no longer restricted
to the cultic sphere exclusively; this phenomenon is reminiscent of the
development that we find—albeit more markedly—in the Hebrew Bible
(compare, e.g., Pss 19:10; 73:1).

Bibliography

Attridge, Harold W., and Robert A. Oden. The Syrian Goddess (De Dea Syria): Attributed
to Lucian. Texts and Translations 9: Graeco-Roman Religion Series 1. Missoula, Mont.:
Scholars Press, 1976.
Caubet, Annie. “Les sanctuaires de Kition à l’époque de la dynastie phénicienne”. Pages
153–68 in Religio Phoenicia: Acta Colloquii Namurcensis habiti diebus 14 et 15 mensis
Decembris anni 1984. Collection d’études classiques 1. Edited by C. Bonnet, E. Lipiński
and P. Marchetti. Namur: Société des Etudes classiques, 1986.
Donner Herbert, and Wolfgang Röllig. Kanaanäische und aramäische Inschriften: Vol. 2:
Kommentar. 3d ed. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 1973.
——. Kanaanäische und aramäische Inschriften: Vol. 1: Texte. 3d ed. Wiesbaden:
Harrassowitz, 1971.
Dunand, Maurice. “La piscine du trône d’Astarté dans le temple d’Echmoun à Sidon”.
Bulletin du Musée de Beyrouth 24 (1971): 19–25.
Février, James Germain. “L’inscription néopunique Cherchell I”. Revue de l’histoire des reli-
gions 141 (1952): 19–25.

28 So for example in Yon, “Maître”, 252; compare the suggestive title of her article: “Le
maître de l’eau à Kition”. Yon borrows the reading and the translation from Masson and
Sznycer, Recherches, 26.
29 Cf. Donner and Rölling, Inschriften I (KAI 37 B 4.), 8, and Gibson, Textbook, 126 (33 B
4) read lbʿl ym(?)m (the question mark is Gibson’s).
30 On this, cf. in particular Xella, “Eschmun”.
182 hans-peter mathys

Friedrich, Johannes, Wolfgang Röllig. Phönizisch-Punische Grammatik. Analecta Orientalia

55. Rev. 3d ed. Rome: Editrice Ponitificio Istituto Biblico, 1999.
Gibson, John C. L. Textbook of Syrian Semitic Inscriptions: Vol. 3: Phoenician Inscriptions
including Inscriptions in the Mixed Dialect of Arslan Tash. Oxford: Clarendon Press,
1998.
Goldschmidt, Lazarus. “Synhedrin (2. Hälfte)—Horajoth”. In Der Babylonische Talmud:
Vol. 9. 3d ed. Berlin: Jüdischer Verlag, 1981.
Jongeling, Karel. Handbook of Neo-Punic Inscriptions. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2008.
——, and Robert M. Kerr, eds. Late Punic Epigraphy: An Introduction to the Study of Neo-
Punic and Latino-Punic Inscriptions. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2005.
Kerr, Robert M. “Latino-Punic and Its Linguistic Environment: An Investigation of the
Tripolitanian Latino-Punic and Related Inscriptions from Roman North Africa with
Some Reference to Libyan and Latin”. Ph.D. diss., University of Leiden, 2007.
Krahmalkov, Charles R. Phoenician–Punic Dictionary. Studia Phoenicia 15. Orientalia
Lovaniensia Analecta 90. Leuven: Peeters, 2000.
Magnanini, Pietro. Le iscrizioni fenicie dell’Oriente: Testi, traduzioni, glossari. Rome: Istituto
di studi del vicino Oriente, 1973.
Masson, Olivier, and Maurice Sznycer. Recherches sur les phéniciens à Chypre. Centre de
recherches d’histoire et de philologie de la IVe Section de l’Ecole Pratique des Hautes
Études 2: Hautes Études Orientales 3. Geneva: Librairie Droz, 1972.
Mathys, Hans-Peter. “Die phönizischen Inschriften”. Pages 273–318 in Das Eschmun-
Heiligtum von Sidon: Architektur und Inschriften, Antike Kunst Beiheft 19, Edited by
R. A. Stucky. Basel: Vereinigung der Freunde antiker Kunst, 2005.
Metzger, Martin. Kamid El-Loz 8: Die spätbronzezeitlichen Tempelanlagen: Die Kleinfunde:
2 vols.: Text, Tafeln. Saarbrücker Beiträge zur Altertumskunde 40. Bonn: Habelt, 1993.
——. Kamid El-Loz 7: Die spätbronzezeitlichen Tempelanlagen: Stratigraphie, Architektur
und Installationen: 2 vols.: Text, Tafeln. Saarbrücker Beiträge zur Altertumskunde 35.
Bonn: Habelt, 1991–1993.
Niehr, Herbert. Religionen in Israels Umwelt: Einführung in die nordwestsemitischen
Religionen Syrien-Palästinas. Die Neue Echter Bibel: Ergänzungsband 5. Würzburg:
Echter Verlag, 1998.
Paschoud, François, ed. Zosime: Histoire Nouvelle: Vol. 1: Livres 1–2. Collection des Universités
de France: Série grecque 401. Paris: Les Belles Lettres, 2000.
Stucky, Rolf A. Das Eschmun-Heiligtum von Sidon: Architektur und Inschriften. Antike Kunst
Beiheft 19. Basel: Vereinigung der Freunde antiker Kunst, 2005.
——. Die Skulpturen aus dem Eschmun-Heiligtum bei Sidon. Antike Kunst Beihefte 17.
Basel: Vereinigung der Freuinde antiker Kunst, 1993.
Wevers, Gerd A. Avoda Zara: Götzendienst. Übersetzung des Talmud Yerushalmi 4,7. Edited
by Martin Hengel. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1980.
Xella, Paolo. “Eschmun von Sidon: Der Phönizische Asklepios”. Pages 481–498 in
Mesopotamica – Ugaritica – Biblica: Festschrift für Kurt Bergerhof zur Vollendung seines
70. Lebensjahres am 7. Mai 1992. Alter Orient und Altes Testament 232. Edited by
M. Dietrich and O. Loretz. Kevelaer: Butzon & Bercker, 1993.
——, José-Angel Zamora. “Une nouvelle inscription de Bodashtart, roi de Sidon, sur la
rive du Nahr al-Awwāli près de Bustān ēš-Šēẖ”. Bulletin d’Archéologie et d’Architecture
Libanaises 8 (2004): 273–300.
Yon, Marguerite. “Le Maître de l’eau à Kition”. Pages 251–63 in Archéologie au Levant:
Recueil à la mémoire de Roger Saidah. Collection de la Maison de l’Orient Méditerranéen
12: Série archéologique 9. Lyon: Maison de l’Orient, 1982.
 PURITY AND POLLUTION IN ANCIENT ZOROASTRIANISM

Albert F. de Jong

This article will introduce the reader to the subject of purity and pollution
in ancient Zoroastrianism and attempt to make the evidence we have for
this subject useful for a comparative perspective, by calling attention to
certain developments and possible ways to explain these. The first part
of this task is comparatively easy, for there are many and very detailed
sources for purity and pollution in Iranian literature, and there is a broad
consensus with regard to most aspects of the subject.1 The other part of
the task is, however, much less easy to accomplish, and this is caused pre-
cisely by this consensus about, let us say, the ‘technicalities’ of the subject.
For we can, as I hope to demonstrate shortly, sketch a logically coherent
and strictly normative system of purity rules that would be valid for most
expressions of Zoroastrianism in the pre-Islamic and early Islamic peri-
ods, but we are consistently faced with a substantial body of evidence that
suggests that these rules were not, or at least not all, strictly applied. The
general reaction to this takes two different shapes: either the evidence
itself is buried, usually in footnotes but sometimes in polite phrases sug-
gesting that “the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak”, or a new religion
is invented to account for the phenomenon. This is the case, for example,
with non-Zoroastrian Mazdaism, put forward by some scholars as the reli-
gion of the Achaemenids,2 and with a hypothetical Iranian Mithraism that
has recently been suggested as the most likely religion of the Parthians.3

1 As a consequence, there is a substantial body of literature dealing with the subject.

The most important studies are Boyce, History I, 294–330; Boyce, Persian Stronghold,
92–138; Choksy, Purity; De Jong, “Purification”; Stausberg, Zarathushtras, 263–96; Williams
“The Body”, “Purity Laws” and “Zoroastrianism”.
2 This is no longer as popular a suggestion as it was a few decades ago, but it is still
around. See, for example, Lincoln, “Paradis perdu” and Religion; Herrenschmidt and Lin-
coln, “Healing”. The present writer has attempted to show the exact opposite, that the
Achaemenids were in fact instrumental in the transformation of Zoroastrianism into the
religion as it has survived. See De Jong, “Magi”, “Ahura Mazdā” and “Religion”.
3 Pourshariati, Decline and Fall, 350–95 (without, it must be noted, any supporting
evidence).
184 albert f. de jong

I shall provide two examples in a moment,4 but it is important first

to stress the result of this approach. This is that a normative version of
Zoroastrianism, as a clearly defined, systematically applied religious sys-
tem, is preserved.5 This is an immensely useful tool, for it indeed allows
scholars to judge many tiny little pieces of evidence that would otherwise
make no sense;6 but it has become clear in more recent times that as such
it is not just unhistorical—this it surely is—but actually goes against the
evidence.

Of the two examples given here, one is well-known, the other one less so.
The well-known example concerns funerary traditions. The Avesta (the
earliest layer of Zoroastrian texts) and the Pahlavi books (the repository of
the priestly tradition of Zoroastrianism, dating to late Sassanian and early
Islamic times) are united in their treatment of funerary arrangements, and
these are guided by some of the most crucial purity laws of the Iranian
religion. These consider corpses to be the source of the most serious pol-
lution—we shall come back to this later—and generally decree that it is
the duty of Zoroastrians to prevent such pollution from spreading and
especially to take precautions so that the good elements of creation—fire,
earth, and water—are not unduly tainted by these sources of pollution.
Within this system, it is unimaginable to consider cremation—for fire is
the holiest of the elements of creation—and it is equally difficult to bury
corpses in the earth. Later sources attempt to instruct believers about
these matters by telling them how the goddess of the earth, Spandarmad,
feels when a corpse is buried in her element; it is the same to her as it
would be to a mortal when a scorpion is dropped in his pyjamas.7 A funer-
ary system developed in earlier times to solve these problems: it consists
of excarnation. This means that corpses are brought to a barren place
and are left there to be eaten by vultures and dogs. These animals were
created by Ahura Mazda specifically for this task, and they do it swiftly

4 These are both discussed at greater length in De Jong, “Religion”.

5 The most impressive attempts at doing this are the works of Mary Boyce, most clearly
Boyce, Zoroastrianism.
6 As is evident from Boyce, History II.
7 See, for example, the Persian Zoroastrian text Sad dar-e Nasr 34: “If one fears that
dead matter is buried in the earth at a certain place, it must be found, for that is a very
good deed. For it is said in the Revelation that when dead matter is buried in the earth,
Spandarmad the Amshasfand trembles. It is as painful to her as it is when a man has a
snake or a scorpion in his pyjamas; for the earth it feels exactly the same. When dead
matter has been buried and it is found (and removed), she is relieved from that pain”.
 purity and pollution in ancient zoroastrianism 185

and efficiently. The bones themselves are clean—after a fixed period of

exposure to the weather—and can be interred in the ground or collected
and preserved in ossuaries, depending on local tastes and custom.8 This,
it is well known, is the funerary practice still current among the Parsis of
India and Pakistan and has only been abandoned by the Zoroastrians of
Iran in the twentieth century.9 So, evidently, theory and practice coalesce
nicely. The problem is that they really do not in the pre-Islamic period,
where the evidence for primary burial is considerable and takes various
shapes: burial directly in the ground, in metal sarcophagi and especially
in sarcophagi made of clay and other porous substances.10 These have
often been neglected—you would not know about their existence from
many of the introductory publications on Iranian religions. This is clearly
the most economical way of dealing with such burials: they have simply
disappeared from the record. When disappearance becomes impossible,
it has sometimes been suggested that they are evidence for the presence
of non-Iranians—Elymaeans, Jews and Greeks—in Iranian lands, another
way of making them disappear by claiming them to be evidence for inter-
esting things that have, however, no relevance for Zoroastrianism.

The second example I would like to give concerns marriages between

Zoroastrians and non-Zoroastrians. Here, again, the religious sources are
unanimous: they are forbidden. It is a sin for Zoroastrian men to have
sexual intercourse with non-Zoroastrian women. This is described as
the sin of mixing the semen of Mazda-worshippers with that of devil-
worshippers, and its consequences in the hereafter are extremely serious.
Since non-Zoroastrian women do not observe the required rules for men-
strual purity, having intercourse with them is identical with having inter-
course with a menstruating woman, another extremely serious sin. Yet,
the number of documented cases of Iranian kings who took non-Iranian
wives is substantial and includes monarchs from all three Iranian dynas-
ties: Achaemenids, Parthians and Sasanians.

8 For these different ways of treating the bones, see Grenet, Pratiques funéraires.
9 An historical-archaeological overview is given by Huff, “Archeological Evidence”.
10 Much of the evidence comes from Iraq and is therefore usually treated as evidence
for “local” (i.e., non-Iranian) practices; there is, however, also a substantial body of evi-
dence from Iran itself, for example the large cemetery near the structure at Kangavar
(Kambakhsh Fard, Anahita, 226–53) and the cemetery from Garmi in Iranian Azerbaijan
(Kambakhsh Fard, Parthian).
186 albert f. de jong

So, regardless of the system that will be outlined here, it is important to

remain aware of two things: the system itself is the end-product of a long
development (largely uncharted, because Zoroastrians rejected the use
of writing for literary and religious purposes), not an unchanging norm,
and there is, as there is everywhere, a considerable gap between theory
and practice, especially when it comes to contacts with non-believers.
If one were to follow the letter of Zoroastrian purity laws, it would be
impossible for Zoroastrians to have any dealings with non-Zoroastrians;
the long record of the considerable economic, military, diplomatic and
cultural prosperity of ancient Iran shows that Zoroastrians themselves did
not always follow the letter of their purity laws. This should cause no sur-
prise, but it remains useful to stress it every now and then.

Zoroastrians believe that the world came into being as the result of a pact
concluded between two uncreated primal beings, the wise lord Ahura
Mazda and the Evil Spirit Angra Mainyu, representing forces of good
and evil respectively. The world itself is good; it was designed and cre-
ated by Ahura Mazda as a trap to, eventually, rob Angra Mainyu of his
most efficient powers. Before this final defeat, however, the two spirits
wage war against each other under conditions laid down in their treaty,
which mainly prescribes a limited period—9,000 years—and a limited
place—this world—for the battle to take place. Although Ahura Mazda
made the creation, the first thing that happened to it was a brutal attack
from the Evil Spirit, who brought into it his own imperfections, as well as
some additions. This is instantly recognizable in the world as we know
it: the water of the sea is salty because the Evil Spirit polluted it; there
are deserts and barren places; there is smoke on the fire—which should
not be there—and there are diseases and death, all of his making. There
are, moreover, imperfections in plants—bark and thorns—and there
are animals that were brought into existence by him: noxious creatures,
known collectively as xrafstra and consisting of insects and reptiles, rats,
and felines. Killing these is a virtue, as opposed to killing good animals,
which is allowed only in two different contexts: the hunt, in which case it
is not necessary to have a religious ritual, and the rite of animal sacrifice.
Otherwise, the taking of animal life is a sin.
Humans, in this worldview, are the special creation of Ahura Mazda,
and they are the only element in this world that is not good or evil by
nature. In fact, they have the option to choose sides in the battle: they can
opt to join the forces of good and they can, if they wish, choose to join the
forces of evil. There are, however, serious consequences brought about by
 purity and pollution in ancient zoroastrianism 187

this choice. These emerge twice: first, after death, the soul is judged and
sent to Paradise, Hell or a place in between. At the end of time, finally,
there will be a general resurrection of all the dead and immortality for
those who are still alive, and there will be a final judgment of all humans.
In this case, there are two distinct traditions about the fate of the wicked:
some say that they will be destroyed, others believe that their sins will be
burnt away from their new bodies, a torture worse than the thousands of
years they have spent in hell before the Resurrection.11 In order to help
mankind in this choice, the founder of Zoroastrianism, Zarathushtra, was
invited to come to Heaven, there to receive the Revelation from Ahura
Mazda himself. Upon his return to the earth, he broke the bodies of the
demons and established a path to salvation. In order to qualify for a happy
afterlife, humans must accept this Revelation and act upon it. It is in this
context that the purity rules are crucially important, for it is impossible to
lead a virtuous life if one does not preserve one’s state of purity but rather
allows sources of pollution to soil the elements.
The purity laws, in other words, are absolutely crucial; they are the
most important ritual translation of the worldview sketched earlier, and
they are an indispensable part of the battle going on between the forces
of good and evil. I shall provide some technical details first, and then I will
move on to questions that might be relevant for comparative purposes.

There are two basic sources of pollution, which differ chiefly in inten-
sity. The first, known as hixr,12 is excrement, every substance that leaves
the body: urine, feces, semen, blood, hair, nails, breast milk, etc. (there is
uncertainty about sweat, tears and breath, however). The second, more
dangerous, category is nasā, material from corpses, dead matter. The lines
between these two categories are reasonably fixed, but there is some dis-
cussion: if you lose a finger while grinding wheat, the blood from the
wound is hixr, but is the disjointed finger nasā? This is important, for

11 De Jong, “First Sin” with references.

12 There is an unexplained discrepancy between the rarity (and meaning) of the
Avestan word hixra- (possibly related to the root haēk- ‘to flow’; see Bartholomae, Alti-
ranisches Wörterbuch, 1812), used only three times in the Vendidad in a context of descrip-
tions of places of excarnation, and therefore as a product of corpses, and the status of hixr
in Pahlavi writings, where it denotes chiefly excrement, everything that leaves the body.
Such excrement is discussed in the Vendidad only in its particular varieties—feces, urine,
semen, etc.—not as a generic category. This is a telltale sign of the fact that the system of
the Pahlavi books is the result of a (long) process of priestly speculation and systematiza-
tion, not a simple continuation of the earlier system, as witnessed in the Avesta.
188 albert f. de jong

the treatment of the pollution that results from each differs considerably.
Pollution with hixr is for most humans a daily event, but pollution with
nasā occurs much more rarely. The ritual treatment of both types of pollu-
tion is therefore quite distinct: simple in the daily cases, extremely elabo-
rate in the more serious ones.

I will frame my discussion of the treatment of sources of pollution in prac-

tical terms, because I believe that purity and pollution were initially seen
and treated as physical conditions.13 The important aspect of the transfer
of pollution is contact, which is visualized as a real, physical connection
between the source of pollution and the person or object that is con-
taminated. This can really only happen through physical contact between
the two, but the notion of contact is slightly more extensive than mod-
ern readers will find natural. It includes, obviously, touching, but it also
includes looking at someone or something, for the Iranians believed—like
most contemporary Greeks—that the gaze of a person is a physical exten-
sion of his/her body, that when one looks at someone or something, the
gaze literally establishes contact between the eye—hence, the body—and
the object beheld. Contact also includes contact through an intermediary
that can serve as a conduit (a piece of cloth or wood, etc.), and it may also
include—but this again is ambiguous—touching a person’s shadow, for
the shadow could also be seen as a physical extension of the body.14 Any
person who is unclean thus immediately becomes a source of pollution.
It is important, therefore, to take note of several consequences. There is
not a hint of morality in the discussion: an unclean person is not morally
wrong, nor do sins cause pollution. Sins are sins, pollution is pollution,
but the two can interact and in fact do so very quickly, for it is a grievous
offense to render a person unclean. Pollution thus has immediate social
consequences, for a state of uncleanness makes it impossible to have any
dealings with other persons. It is necessary, therefore, to act upon any
occasion of uncleanness immediately. This is even more the case because
it is impossible to perform any religious ritual in a state of uncleanness—
even if one is not aware of it.
As we have seen, being human means becoming polluted on a daily
basis. We all have normal bodily functions that produce hixr daily. The
ritual prescriptions for dealing with these are, as a consequence, simple,

13 De Jong, “Purification”, 309–10.

14 De Jong, “Shadow and Resurrection”.
 purity and pollution in ancient zoroastrianism 189

and we shall see that the ritual prescriptions for the more serious types of
pollution are largely an extension of these simple rules. When the call of
nature comes, and you need to urinate, you should go outside, dig a small
hole in the earth and surround it with a furrow that encircles the little
hole. While doing this, you need to recite the first half of a small prayer
text appropriate to the occasion (i.e., different for burying nails, etc.). Then
you squat over the pit (urinating while standing is a mortal sin), release
the flow of urine, rise, cover the pit with the earth, recite the second half
of the prayer, wash your hands and then you are clean again. The impor-
tant elements are the furrow (which acts as a barrier that prevents the
spread of the polluting substance), the ritual texts, which neutralize the
demonic interest taken in sources of pollution, and the cleansing of
the body with water. It is basically the same ritual for defecation and for
the burying of nail clippings and hair, with small differences that need
not detain us here.
In the list of bodily substances, only one is specific to men—semen—
but many are specific to women’s bodies only: menstrual blood and other
vaginal secretions, breast milk and everything associated with childbirth.
It should not be surprising, therefore, that the purity laws have weighed
far more heavily on women’s lives than they have on men’s. A substantial
part of all extant Zoroastrian literature is devoted to the subject of men-
struation, and I must pay some attention to it. When a woman realizes
her period has begun, she must immediately take off her clothes (these
are not impure) and put on special clothes reserved for the occasion. She
then withdraws to a special chamber in the house, where daylight cannot
enter and where no fire may be burning (in earlier times this may have
been a special menstrual hut). There she has a bed made of iron, without
covers, where she can lie down, and she has to remain secluded for the
whole duration of her menses. Food and water are brought to her in spe-
cial metal containers unsuited to any other use, but only in small quan-
tities—for everything must be consumed—and it is given her while she
averts her gaze and covers her hands with a piece of her garment. She is
not allowed to look at her relatives, or at any source of fire or light. When
her period has ended, she must wait some additional time, just to be cer-
tain, and then she can cleanse her body with gōmēz—unconsecrated cow
urine—and then with water, put on her ordinary clothes and resume her
place in the life of the household. If she is breast-feeding, the child must
come with her and be purified too. In historical times, women could and
did undergo the most elaborate purification ritual when menopause had
set in, to remove any trace of lingering offenses against the purity laws—
190 albert f. de jong

but this is part of a spectacular extension of cleansing rituals that we will

discuss briefly in a moment.
For the more serious type of pollution—that contracted through con-
tact with nasā—the ritual is far more elaborate and time-consuming, for
it lasts ten days. It is known as the barašnūm ī nō šab (barašnūm of nine
nights), and it is administered by two priests in the highest state of ritual
purity. We see the same elements, but they are far more elaborate: an
extensive system of furrows is drawn along a series of nine pits, into which
the candidate must crouch, guided by the priest, who holds a container
made of metal that is attached to a stick encircled by a rope with nine
knots on it. The container is filled with unconsecrated cow urine and the
candidate must wash his body with this, from head to toe, and from left
to right for all those body parts of which we have two. In the founda-
tional text for this ritual—contained in the Vendidad—the pollution
with nasā is visualized as a demonic possession: it is the Corpse Demon
who is dwelling in the candidate’s body and who needs to be banished
from it.15 The visual sign that banishment has taken place is that the demon
leaves the body in the shape of a fly, and there is a dog present during the
ritual, the famous dog with four eyes whose gaze sends away this Corpse
Demon. The washing with urine happens in the first six pits, and it is fol-
lowed by a cleansing with dust between pits number six and number seven.
The candidate must wait until his body has completely dried and then wash
his body with water, once in pit seven, twice in pit eight and three times
in pit nine; following that his body is fumigated and he receives new
clothes. Then, he has to spend nine nights in isolation—in a place of
quarantine—during which there are smaller rituals, and on the tenth day
he is clean again.

Now, these are the bare outlines of the most important aspects of
Zoroastrian purity laws, and as mentioned above, they have generally been
taken as immutable religious rules. In principle, it is likely that they func-
tioned as such at least in the early Islamic period, but the whole approach
to Zoroastrianism as a barely changing normative faith has almost entirely
robbed it of its history. One rather dramatic consequence of this approach
is that it has cloaked several important issues: the development of these

15 Vendidad 8.35–71.
 purity and pollution in ancient zoroastrianism 191

prescriptions and rituals,16 and their practical application. I would like to

use the remainder of this article to briefly explore these two subjects, for
they are important if Zoroastrian data are to be used as contextual infor-
mation for biblicists and historians of Judaism, Christianity and Islam.

As for the development of these rules, it is clear that in the Sasanian

period, the purity laws underwent dramatic extensions.17 This is part of a
transformation that can be traced in the religion as a whole. This trans-
formation is similar to developments that scholars working on other reli-
gions have traced: a large-scale development of the nature of religion as
such and of religious practice in Late Antiquity. This development can be
seen—in very broad strokes—as one moving away from traditions that
were ethnic and traditional (i.e., without clearly indicated beginnings)
and that focused on civic unity (as manifested in the four crucial aspects
of temple, divine statue, animal sacrifice, founding myths), towards tradi-
tions that were transnational, had a (known) beginning in fairly recent
history and focused on communal identity, as manifested in a new set
of three crucial aspects: a prophet with a sacred history, revealed text,
communal gatherings.18 Zoroastrianism does not easily fit either scenario,
which is one reason why I would hesitate to follow Walter Burkert and
many others in speaking of a religious koinē, even though I find the con-
cept itself extremely interesting.19 But there is a marked change in the
practice of Zoroastrianism, and in its textual and theological tradition,
towards a new status for the revealed texts, the Avesta.20 From its ear-
lier function as a ritual language, it developed into a text that was read
and studied and became the source of learned speculation. This hap-
pened, presumably, after the momentous process by which it came to be
written down.

The Zoroastrian priests must have found in this new period of the his-
tory of their religion reasons to take a closer look at several aspects of
communal life, and one of the results—traceable only in texts from the
Islamic period—is that a connection was made between pollution and

16 Choksy, Purity, contains some attempts at periodization but consistently evades the
question of the reasons behind the transformations.
17 By far the best discussion is Boyce, “Cleansing I”.
18 Stroumsa, La fin du sacrifice.
19 Burkert, Babylon.
20 De Jong, “The Culture of Writing”.
192 albert f. de jong

mental states. That is to say, the lines that earlier clearly distinguished
sins from uncleanness became blurred, and a whole new notion, that of
a spiritual pollution, emerged, which was not there before.21 For this, too,
the ritual for physical pollution was prescribed and once this step was
taken, there was no holding back further developments. One of these was
salutary, at least for most common believers: it became possible, when
in a state of impurity, to hire a priest to undergo the barašnūm by proxy,
thus cleansing a pure body in order to remove the pollution from a body
that was not, actually, subjected to the physical rite of purification.22 In
this transformation, too, the recitation of the confession of sins (Petīt) was
added to the ritual, even though it has no logical place there.23 Finally, the
consumption of gōmēz became part of the ritual, evidently in an attempt
to give an outward manifestation to the notion that it was also an inner
purification.
By noticing that there is no menstrual flow during pregnancy, it came
to be believed that the infant in the mother’s womb is fed with men-
strual blood, thus tainting with serious pollution every human that was
ever born; by further noticing that the menstrual cycle is affected by the
practice of breast-feeding, it was concluded that breast milk, too, is some-
how made of menstrual blood, with the same effect.24 All these develop-
ments have, by some, been retrojected into antiquity, but they have no
place there.

The recognition of such developments has important consequences, espe-

cially for comparative purposes. Zoroastrian purity rules have tradition-
ally been interpreted as a system and as such as the practical expression
of a particular worldview. This was a necessary step, in order to overcome
earlier interpretations that saw these rules and prescriptions as bizarre
and unfitting to the (postulated) simplicity of the Zoroastrian religion.25
But it resulted in the system thus reconstructed acquiring notions of
timelessness and being seen as a set of unyielding demands. This, in turn,
relegated those who evidently did not conform to (all of) the system—

21 De Jong, “Purification”, 312–13.

22 This development is the subject of De Jong, “Purification”.
23 For the petīt, see Asmussen, Xuāstvānīft, 26–112.
24 Although there are a few earlier indications, these aspects of evolved Zoroastrian
notions of purity and pollution are mainly known from Persian Zoroastrian texts. See, for
example, Sad dar-e nasr 36; Sad dar-e bondaheš 72.
25 Thus, for example, Zaehner, Dawn and Twilight, 27: “[. . .] the Vidēvdāt with its dreary
prescriptions concerning ritual purity and its listing of impossible punishments for ludi-
crous crimes”, rightly criticized by Douglas, Purity, 25.
 purity and pollution in ancient zoroastrianism 193

for example, those Zoroastrians who buried their dead—to a category of

‘pseudo-believers’, those who were either too weak or too ignorant of their
own tradition to practice it fully. Notions of ‘spiritual pollution’ crept into
discussions of early texts and early versions of the rituals, without any
textual or other support, and developments that were recognized as such
were either not explained or explained by more or less intuitive notions
that, again, are unsupported by the (admittedly scanty) evidence we
have. One example of this is the often-repeated idea that priests devised
all kinds of new, and ever more expensive, rituals in order to fill their
purses.26 This rests entirely on a notion of a priestly grip on the com-
munities that is, again, not supported by the evidence we have.27 More
commonly, the stringency of the application of purity rules is associated
with situations of living under the rule of ‘unbelievers’. In Iranian history,
this has meant that the (extremely brief) Seleucid ‘occupation’ of Iran is
singled out as a period in which the purity rules must have acquired more
active meaning for the believers, since there was no Zoroastrian author-
ity to enforce them and the Zoroastrians were governed by ‘infidels’. The
same ‘logic’ has often been applied to the history of Zoroastrianism after
the Arab conquests, but in the first case (the Seleucids), there is no evi-
dence whatsoever, and the second case is less convincing than it seems.
For if the reconstruction here offered, tentatively, is correct, this means
that the most spectacular development of the purity rules took place in a
period during which Zoroastrianism was at the height of its powers: the
late Sasanian Empire.

Bibliography

Asmussen, Jes P. Xuāstvānīft: Studies in Manichaeism. Copenhagen: Munksgaard, 1965.

Bartholomae, Christian. Altiranisches Wörterbuch. Berlin: de Gruyter, 1961.
Boyce, Mary. Zoroastrianism: Its Antiquity and Constant Vigour. Costa Mesa: Mazda
Publishers, 1992.
——. “Cleansing I: In Zoroastrianism”. Encyclopaedia Iranica 5 (1992): 693–700.
——. A History of Zoroastrianism II: Under the Achaemenians. Handbuch der Orientalistik
Series. Leiden: Brill, 1982.
——. A Persian Stronghold of Zoroastrianism. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1977.
——. A History of Zoroastrianism I: The Early Period. Religionsgeschichte des Alten
Orients 2. Leiden: Brill, 1975.
Burkert, Walter. Babylon, Memphis, Persepolis: Eastern Contexts of Greek Culture. Cambridge,
Ma.: Harvard University Press, 2004.

26 Critically discussed by Russell, “Advocacy”.

27 See the important remarks in Kreyenbroek, “The Zoroastrian Priesthood”.
194 albert f. de jong

Choksy, Jamsheed K. Purity and Pollution in Zoroastrianism: Triumph over Evil. Austin:
University of Texas Press, 1989.
Douglas, Mary. Purity and Danger: An Analysis of the Concepts of Pollution and Taboo.
London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1966.
Grenet, F. Les pratiques funéraires dans l’Asie Centrale sédentaire de la conquête grecque à
l’islamisation. Paris: Editions du CNRS, 1984.
Herrenschmidt, Clarisse, and Bruce Lincoln. “Healing and Salt Waters: The Bifurcated
Cosmos of Mazdaean Religion”. History of Religions 43 (2004): 269–83.
Huff, D. “Archaeological Evidence of Zoroastrian Funerary Practices”. Pages 593–630 in
Zoroastrian Rituals in Context. Edited by M. Stausberg. Leiden: Brill, 2004.
Jong, Albert de. “Religion at the Achaemenid Court”. Pages 533–58 in Der Achämenidenhof.
Edited by B. Jacobs and R. Rollinger. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2010.
——. “Ahura Mazdā the Creator”. Pages 85–89 in The World of Achaemenid Persia. History,
Art and Society in Iran and the Ancient Near East. Edited by J. Curtis and St. J. Simpson.
London: I. B. Tauris, 2010.
——. “The Culture of Writing and the Use of the Avesta in Sasanian Iran”. Pages 27–41
in Zarathushtra entre l’Inde et l’Iran: Études indo-iraniennes et indo-européennes offertes
à Jean Kellens à l’occasion de son 65e anniversaire. Beiträge zur Iranistik 30. Edited by
E. Pirart and X. Tremblay. Wiesbaden: Reichert, 2009.
——. “The Contribution of the Magi”. Pages 85–99 in Birth of the Persian Empire. Edited by
V. S. Curtis and S. Stewart. London: I. B. Tauris, 2005.
——. “The First Sin: Zoroastrian Ideas about the Time before Zarathustra”. Pages 192–209
in Genesis and Regeneration: Essays on Conceptions of Origins. Edited by S. Shaked.
Jerusalem: The Israel Academy of Sciences and Humanities, 2005.
——. “Purification in absentia: On the Development of Zoroastrian Ritual Practice”. Pages
301–29 in Transformations of the Inner Self in Ancient Religions. Edited by J. Assmann and
G. G. Stroumsa. Leiden: Brill, 1999.
——. “Shadow and Resurrection”. Bulletin of the Asia Institute 9 (1995[1997]): 215–24.
Kambakhsh Fard, S. Parthian Pithos-Burials at Germi (Azarbaijan). Tehran: Me‛raj (in
Persian), 1998.
——. The Anahita Temple Kangavar. Tehran: Miras-e Farhangi (in Persian), 1995.
Kreyenbroek, Philip G. “The Zoroastrian Priesthood after the Fall of the Sasanian Empire”.
Pages 151–66 in Transition Periods in Iranian History. Studia Iranica Cahier 5. Paris:
Association pour l’avancement des études iraniennes, 1987.
Lincoln, Bruce. Religion, Empire & Torture: The Case of Achaemenian Perisa, with a Postscript
on Abu Ghraib. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2007.
——. “A la recherche du paradis perdu”. History of Religions 43 (2003): 139–54.
Pourshariati, Parvaneh. Decline and Fall of the Sasanian Empire: The Sasanian-Parthian
Confederacy and the Arab Conquest of Iran. London: I. B. Tauris, 2008.
Russell, James R. “Advocacy of the Poor: The Maligned Sasanian Order”. Journal of the
K.R. Cama Oriental Institute 53 (1986): 123–41. Repr., Pages 114–32 in James R. Russell.
Armenian and Iranian Studies. Cambridge Mass.: Harvard University Press, 2004.
Stausberg, Michael. Die Religion Zarathushtras: Geschichte–Gegenwart–Rituale. Vol. 3.
Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 2004.
Stroumsa, Guy G. La fin du sacrifice: Les mutations religieuses de l’antiquité tardive. Paris:
Odile Jacob, 2005.
Williams, Alan V. “Zoroastrianism and the Body”. Pages 155–66 in Religion and the Body.
Edited by S. Coakley. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997.
——. “Zoroastrian and Judaic Purity Laws: Reflections on the Viability of a Sociological
Interpretation”. Irano-Judaica 3 (1994): 72–89.
——. “The Body and the Boundaries of Zoroastrian Spirituality”. Religion 19 (1989):
227–39.
Zaehner, Robert C. The Dawn and Twilight of Zoroastrianism. London: Weidenfeld and
Nicholson, 1961.
 THE CONCEPT OF PURITY IN GREEK SACRED LAWS

Noel Robertson

1. Introduction

Purity is often a requirement of Greek sacred laws, as inscribed on stone

and typically posted at the entrance to sanctuaries, otherwise appearing
somewhere as a compilation of rules.1 A person is told just how—in what
physical respects—he must be pure in order to approach a given deity so
as to offer sacrifice. A typical form of words is ἁγνὸν εἰσιέναι ἀπὸ γυναικὸς
καὶ λεχοῦς καὶ κήδους “enter pure from wife and childbed and mourning”.
The meaning is that after marital intercourse or after a birth or a death in
the family one must wait a certain time—one must be pure for so many
days as specified in each case. After intercourse, much the commonest
case, it may be only till next morning, otherwise for just a day or two; birth
and death take longer. The forms of pollution can be refined or multiplied
to various degrees. We hear of intercourse other than marital (more pol-
luting because more extreme, not because it is somehow wrong), of mis-
carriage, abortion, infant exposure, death outside the family.
Pollution of this kind is an invisible condition attaching to one’s per-
son: though intercourse is sometimes thought of as uncleanness to be
washed away, the notion is only incidental. Purity however also depends
on appearances. Just as often, and it may be either in addition or instead,
dress and other adornment or equipment are subject to rule. Clothing is
to be light and not dark, not elaborately wrought, only of wool or linen,
shoes plain or none at all, no coiffure, no ring or belt, no jewelry, no iron,
none of other things as well. The form of words may be µὴ εἰσιέναι ἔχοντας
κτλ or µὴ εἰσφέρειν κτλ “do not enter with” or “do not bring in” such a
thing. Again, it is a matter of a person’s fitness while worshipping. The pro-
scribed items are for the most part not objectionable in themselves. They
might figure otherwise by way of dedication; in a couple of instances they

1 ‘Sacred laws’ is a term of convenience that was never used in any systematic way by
ancient sources, but well suits the inscriptions studied here. See in general Parker, “Sacred
Laws”; for the epigraphic category Guarducci, Epigrafia IV, pp. 3–45, Lupu, GSL pp. 4–9; for
instances in verse I. and A. Petrovic, “Speaker and Communication” pp. 154–64.
196 noel robertson

are to be confiscated for the sanctuary. Some items are akin to so called
sumptuary laws that restrict invidious display in funeral processions.
Rules of purity first appear in the 6th century bc, i.e. about as early as
any kind of Greek inscription, and continue strong to the Late Hellenistic
period, after which the old cults fell out of favour with ordinary persons.2
Under the Empire, there are only a few instances in cities of Asia Minor
where the well-to-do kept up appearances.3 Until then, rules of purity are
as common as any kind of sacred law, and are always much the same.
With greater fluency in writing and inscribing, they may become prolix;
but they may also be as brief and pointed as before. Two general changes
occur. From the fourth century bc Greek gods both in the homeland and
abroad are joined by Egyptian and Oriental ones whose worship entailed
unaccustomed food prohibitions, as of pork or fish, and also separation
from a woman at her period. While taking Greek form they belong to
non-Greek traditions and are not considered here. It is also in the fourth
century that “righteous thoughts” or “a pure mind”, ὅσια φρονεῖν or καθαρὰ
γνώµη, are first mentioned by way of paradox beside the familiar require-
ments. The language used shows the influence of poetry and philosophy;
the cults at first are those of healing deities whose worshippers were
moved to a more reflective piety. With or without poetic form, moralizing
rules remain exceptional to the end.
The notion of purity presented by these inscriptions is unchanging,
apart from that moralizing tendency. It was there from the start, even
before the 6th century bc, waiting to be attested by the emergence of the
epigraphic habit. It has been largely unnoticed, though it coincides some-
what with the interest scholars once took in peculiar habits of thought,
in animism and taboos, as a well-spring of early religion. Two standard
collections of material are thus organized, on ‘chastity’ and on objects
or materials superstitiously regarded.4 But habits of thought like these
belong to an approach now largely given up. It is unsuited anyway to
Greece and the Aegean as we know them archaeologically.5 People here

2 Rules of purity at different periods are usefully surveyed by Nilsson, Geschichte I, pp.
97–98, 101–2, and II, pp. 73–74, 130, 373–74.
3 I pass over inscriptions from the interior that reflect native ways. On the other hand,
Lydia and Caria were known to Greeks from early days, and their cults were always subject
to Greek influence.
4 Fehrle, Keuschheit, and Wächter, Reinheitsvorschriften, still have their uses; they com-
plement each other, Wächter omitting ‘chastity’ in view of Fehrle’s treatment.
5 Nilsson, who led the new understanding of Greek prehistory in the light of archae-
ology, never gave up the term ‘taboo’. But it is only in early work that it leads to plain
 the concept of purity in greek sacred laws 197

were not primitive; they were deeply influenced over a long period by the
advanced cultures of the Near East. During Mycenaean times the Greek
peninsula, or much of it, was well settled and prosperous. But disruption
followed, bringing hardship and poverty during the so-called Dark Age, or
Early Iron Age, of c. 1100–750 bc. Soon after, inscriptions on stone begin
to appear, with sacred laws prominent among them. This is the context in
which our laws on purity must be seen. The required approach is philolog-
ical, interpreting the texts in the light of historical development. It begins
with an important distinction in Greek vocabulary.

2. Purity Old and New

Two Greek words are commonly used in the sense of ‘pure’, καθαρός and
ἁγνός, each with a family of derived verbs and nouns. Whereas our rules
of purity feature ἁγνός, καθαρός happens to be distinctive of another class
of inscription, to be mentioned in a moment. Both words are age-old.
Neither, it is true, has yet been recognized in Mycenaean tablets, but both
are well represented in epic and lyric poetry, the earliest Greek literature
surviving thereafter. The respective uses need to be set forth.6
καθαρός with its broader range of meaning ‘clean, clear, spotless,
unmixed’ is at all times a commoner word by far, applied to clothes, floors,
metals, grain (‘winnowed’) etc. καθαρός and καθαίρω, adjective and verb,
appear in epic formulas such as the serviceable phrase ἐν καθαρῶι ‘in the
open’. The special meanings ‘pure’, ‘purify’ do not occur in epic, but this is
unimportant; they are afterwards too common to be regarded as secondary.
It is only that epic mostly avoids the related topic of homicide ‘pollution’.7
The opposite of καθαρός ‘pure’ is µιαρός ‘polluted’, together with the verb
µιαίνω ‘pollute’. It serves as opposite of ἁγνός as well, but there can be no
doubt that it originates as opposite of καθαρός ‘clean, clear’ etc., for the

distortions of Greek usage, as when coiffures become token binding, shoelessness token
nakedness: so e.g. Nilsson, Feste pp. 345–46. Parker, Miasma pp. 328–30, also finds room
for ‘taboo’.
6 The following should be mentioned as previous treatments of these words. For ἁγνός,
Williger, Hagios pp. 37–72, Ferrari, “Due noti”, Moulinier, Pur et impur pp. 270–81, Parker,
Miasma pp. 147–51. For καθαρός, Moulinier, Le Pur pp. 149–68. For a comparison of καθαίρω
and ἁγνίζω, Rudhardt, Pensée pp. 163–75.
7 Pollution as an ever-present danger of ordinary life is antithetic to the ardent milieu
of epic poetry, to roaming and fighting, friendship and vengeance. It can sometimes be
seen that epic turns away from the idea just when it threatens to intrude; cf. Parker,
Miasma pp. 66–70, 130–37.
198 noel robertson

original meaning of µιαρός is ‘stained, tinged’, as with dye, blood, dust etc.8
The bloodshed denoted by µιαρός is at once a stain and a pollution; the
war god Ares has the formular epithet µιαιφόνος ‘stained with killing’.9
When inscriptions on stone begin to appear widely in the 6th century
bc, καθαρός as well as ἁγνός is used in a characteristic way that is scarcely
evident in literary remains of the period. The καθαρός inscriptions, very
much fewer but likewise continuing for long ages and occurring through-
out the Greek world, have an important purpose of their own. They set
forth the means of purifying a homicide or lesser assailant who is not after
all driven out of the community. Such persons need to be cleansed—often
by literal washing, scouring, absorbing—so as not to sully others. Here
is another kind of purity, a very archaic one. An opposite procedure is
widely known as both an exceptional and a seasonal event. A community
that feels itself somehow sullied offloads the dirt on a wretched scapegoat
and expels him.10 Beyond a doubt, these drastic and expressive proce-
dures were handed down in Greece from very early times; they are known
throughout the world. The notion of purity expressed by καθαρός, purity
as cleanliness, is as old as it could be; it is a good subject for structuralist
interpretation.11 I treat the καθαρός inscriptions at the end (“The cleansing
of offenders”), by way of contrast with the ἁγνός variety that is distinctive
of Greek religion. The καθαρός inscriptions no less than the ἁγνός ones
testify to an extraordinary conservatism. During all the time they were
displayed, washing etc. was completely superseded by legal process. As
a result of this conservatism, καθαρός rules like ἁγνός rules retain age-old
associations that are otherwise lost.
Turning now to ἁγνός ‘pure’, we find it used in early poetry in a strik-
ing fashion. Artemis, Persephone, and Apollo’s festival day are each called
ἁγνή in the Odyssey; somewhat later, as epic (i.e. hexameter) poetry takes

8 LfrgE s. µιαίνοµαι, µιαρός. In Mycenaean mi-ya-ro is used of textiles, evidently with the
meaning ‘dyed’ (Cnossus Ln 1568, DMic I 451).
9 LfrgE s. µιαιφόνος; as a formula the use goes far back.
10 O. Paoletti, ThesCRA II (2004) 33–35. LIMC V (1994) Hermes 168 is a vivid pictorial
instance, if rightly identified.
11 Cf. Parker, Miasma pp. 1–17 on pollution, pp. 18–31, 325–26 on purification: pollution
is a basic “feeling” prompted by “disorder”, and purification is an effort to re-establish
order, this in avowed agreement with some noted anthropologists. Vernant, Myth pp.
110–29, offers a professedly structural account: ‘pure’ and ‘polluted’ are opposite poles of
man’s relation to ‘the divine’, and to approach these terms historically is to ignore an
underlying “system of symbols”. This is by way of reviewing Moulinier, Pur et impur, who
assembles and expounds all the literary mentions of purity without throwing much light
on the subject. Despite Vernant, a historical approach is not thereby discredited.
 the concept of purity in greek sacred laws 199

cognizance of Demeter, she too is so called, quite insistently.12 In lyric

poetry ἁγνός is a quality of such elements of nature as groves, springs,
meadows, fire, sky, light; also of shrines, and now of the gods Zeus and
Athena.13 Later, we find groves, springs, and meadows as cult-sites of
Artemis, Persephone, and Apollo, or of a deity known only as Ἁγνή.
Obviously ἁγνός is not the pragmatic cleanliness that καθαρός denotes.
Greek already possessed two words for different kinds of purity.
Our many inscriptions at a sanctuary entrance uniformly say ἁγνός
rather than καθαρός in the first instance, and they employ the καθαρός
vocabulary, if at all, only by way of amplifying. The intrusive καθαρός
terms are relatively few down to the very end. Within the ἁγνός family
we find such derivative terms as ἁγνεύοµαι ‘be pure’, ἁγνεία ‘purity’ (also,
concretely, ‘priesthood’), ἁγνίζω ‘purify’, all occurring in our purity rules
and in later literature. Now these ἁγνός inscriptions, relatively common
as they are, show a definite limitation that has not been noticed. They do
not extend to the full range of Olympian and associated deities or to the
many departments of life they represent. On the contrary, they are typical
of cults broadly describable as pertaining to a simple life and a country
setting, and to pastoral or agrarian activities on a limited scale. Among
the gods in question we find half the Olympian family—Zeus, Athena,
Apollo, Artemis, Demeter, Dionysus—but only insofar as they belong to
this milieu, which constitutes a small part of their concerns in the devel-
oped city-state. Early poetry sometimes has a similar range, with scenes
of nature called ἁγνός and the same gods and sanctuaries so called. It is
evident then that our ἁγνός inscriptions perpetuate an accustomed way of
life, though not the age-old outlook of some καθαρός inscriptions.
In general, the purity denoted by ἁγνός is less urgent and elementary
than the καθαρός kind. It consists in abstaining for a time from actions
or associations most of which are not objectionable in themselves; it is
demanded only for the purpose of entering a sanctuary or taking part in
ritual. A person will therefore be ἁγνός on occasion but not as a rule.14

12 LfgrE s. ἁγνός 1–2. Thereafter a wider range of gods are so called, often in dramatic
contexts evoking fear and awe, outside the original background of cult. Parker, Miasma pp.
147–48 shows that cases where the epithet goes back to cult can usually be distinguished
from others where it does not.
13 LSJ and LSJ RS s. ἁγνός I 1–2; Ferrari, “Due note”.
14 A courtesan in a comedy says cheerily, “I’ve been ἁγνὴ γάµων pure of intercourse
for two days” (Menander, Epitrepontes 440). As personal names Ἁγνός and Ἁγνή and
compounds thereof enjoy a certain currency; they evoke a pious disposition rather than
a celibate state. The archetype and patron of midwives is named Ἁγνοδίκη (Hyg. Fab.
200 noel robertson

A person must always be καθαρός, however, since the purity so denoted

is essential to the health and safety of people at large; as its opposite, one
who is µιαρός ‘impure’ poses a general threat.15 At Cleonae in the Argolid
(see fig. 1) one of the earliest inscriptions of any kind sets forth an elabo-
rate procedure for purifying a homicide, referred to repeatedly as µιαρός
(LSCG 56, lines 5, 8, 11, early VI bc). It is because Cleonae, with the Nemean
games close by, was a place of wide resort in early days: the procedure was
doubly necessary among a concourse of strangers from far-flung places.
µιαρός is not a natural opposite of ἁγνός, though it comes to be so used in
sacred laws; then it is a temporary condition, just like ἁγνός. Sometime in
the 5th century, as the first such instance, a funerary law of Ceos refers to
the effect of a death in the family as µιαίνω (LSCG 97 A 25–26, 29–30 [tris],
V bc). Thereafter it becomes fairly common.16
Etymology does not help with the prehistory of these words. Since
καθαρός ‘clean, i.e. pure’ and µιαρός ‘stained, i.e. foul’ are fundamen-
tal opposites with a similar shape, *καθαρ- and *µιαρ-, they presumably
belong to the same linguistic stratum. Yet no congeners are known in the
traditional Indo-European repertory: we might rather guess that the earli-
est Greeks in the peninsula adopted them, together with some relevant
customs, from e.g. Luwians or Minoans.17 ἁγνός ‘pure’ is confidently linked
with several other old words expressing religious ideas: ἅγιος ‘sacred, holy’,
ἅζοµαι ‘revere’, also ἄγος ‘curse’, ἐναγής ‘accursed’, but here too the search
for Indo-European cognates has been in vain.18 And although such words

274.10–13)—by way of irony, as the context indicates. The meaning “chaste before justice”
proposed by King, “Agnodike” p. 54, does not accord either with Greek usage or with the
spirit of the anecdote.
15 µιαρός ‘dirty’ is also an instinctive term of reproach equivalent to ‘polluted’, as in vari-
ous instances cited by LSJ and LSJ RS s.v. 4. Apart from reproaches, ἐκµιαίνοµαι as applied
by Aristophanes and other writers to either involuntary ejaculation or masturbation is
rendered ‘pollute oneself’ by Parker, Miasma p. 76 n. 9, and Henderson, Maculate Muse
p. 175. But surely the usage originates as a literal ‘stain oneself’; customary terms for awk-
ward lapses go far back.
16 Cyrene’s rules of purity (LSS 115, 335–324 bc) speak of µιαρός and µιαίνω as the effect
of childbirth (A 16–17, 19, tris) and of illicit intercourse (B 3, 5, 7, 21) and of miscarriage
(B 26). At A 40, 41, µιαίνοµαι ‘be soiled’ denotes as elsewhere the pollution of a consent-
ing sexual act, not of a sexual act deemed offensive in itself. So Robertson, Religion and
Reconciliation pp. 302, 305: otherwise Parker, Miasma pp. 76, 342.
17 Note however recent opinion of a different kind. Burkert, “Reshep-Figuren” p. 77 and
Orientalizing Revolution pp. 64, 189–90, derives καθαρός from the Semitic verb qtr ‘fumi-
gate’ (as with incense) and is followed by West, East Face pp. 39–40. On this hypothesis,
the range of meaning of the Greek word, and especially its broad workaday use, are inex-
plicable.
18 Words of comparable meaning in Latin, Vedic, and Avestan are not related. Cf. Ben-
veniste, Vocabulaire II 202–7; Frisk, Wörterbuch s. ἅγιος, ἁγνός, ἄγος; Chantraine, Diction-
naire s. ἄγος, ἅζοµαι.
 the concept of purity in greek sacred laws
201

Fig. 1. Sanctuary Sites with Purity Inscriptions throughout the Greek World.
202 noel robertson

and ideas must go far back, they are not tethered to any literal correlatives
in the way of καθαρός and µιαρός. What they signified in Mycenaean times
is beyond conjecture.
In sum, ἁγνός is an important quality in early epic and lyric poetry,
being attributed to certain gods and certain parts of nature. In a body of
inscribed laws that begin only a little later and vary little during many
centuries, the same quality is required of worshippers approaching the
gods in question.19 The quality evidently took hold in the period before
this, the Early Iron Age, c. 1100–750 bc. The Early Iron Age ended just as
writing was introduced to bear witness to a new form of society, the Greek
polis. Hence epic and lyric poetry, hence the inscriptions. Society contin-
ued to change thereafter, as did the pantheon of deities that answered to
its needs. But ἁγνός rules change very little. They survive as a virtual relic
of the Early Iron Age.

3. A New Way of Life

Conditions in the Early Iron Age, once curtained by illiteracy, are now
much better known from careful excavation, extensive surveys, and scien-
tific methods of classifying materials and dating them. Epic poetry, which
flourished throughout this period, looks back to the Mycenaean age before
it in a wishful unrealistic way, as an age of heroes; yet it points convinc-
ingly to a key factor in its downfall, climate change. Another source of evi-
dence has been quite neglected. It is the month-names in the calendars of
each Greek city, which show the deities invoked by the city on important

19 The full list of 33 inscriptions is as follows, arranged by deity in the order we shall
approach them, and chronologically under each deity. Zeus and/or Athena: LSS 156 A 7–16,
Cos town, c. 300 bc; LSS 59, Delos, 116/15 bc; LSAM 12, Pergamum, II bc; SEG XLIII 710,
Euromus, II ad; LSS 91, Lindus, III ad. Apollo: LSS 60, Minoa on Amorgos, V–IV bc; LSS 115
A 11–20, 32–79, B 40–59, Cyrene, 335–324 bc; LSCG 156 B 29–35, Cos town, c. 300 bc; LSCG
170, Isthmus on Cos, III bc; LSCG 65, Andania, 92 bc; LSCG 124, Eresus on Lesbos, II bc.
Meter: LSAM 29, Metropolis, IV bc; LSAM 18, Maeonia, 147 bc; ICr I xxiii 3, Phaestus, II bc;
LSAM 20, Philadelphia, I bc. ‘Great Goddesses’: LSCG 68, Lycosura, III bc; GLS 8, Lycosura,
II bc. Pan: GSL 4, Marathon, 61 bc. Artemis: LSS 115 B 1–27, Cyrene, 335–324 bc; LSCG 171,
Isthmus on Cos, II bc; LSAM 51, Miletus, I bc. Demeter: LSS 32, northern Arcadia, VI-V bc;
LSS 33, Patrae, III bc; LSCG 154 A-B, Cos town, III bc; LSAM 6, Cius, I ad. Dionysus: LSS 70,
Thasos, III bc; IvMagn 215, Magnesia, I ad; LSAM 84, Smyrna, II ad. Asclepius: LSCG 130,
Astypalaea, III bc; LSS 82, Mytilene, ?aet. Rom.; LSS 118, Balagrae near Cyrene, II ad; LSAM
14, Pergamum, III ad. Unidentified: LSAM 35, Priene, III bc; LSS 108, Rhodes, I ad; LSS 106,
Cameirus, ?aet. Rom.
 the concept of purity in greek sacred laws 203

occasions throughout the year.20 Though such calendars are known only
from much later documents, they go back to a city’s founding, typically in
the Early Iron Age. Each month is named for an important festival assign-
able to one or other of the Olympian deities; sometimes the name of the
deity is substituted for the festival name. Festival names mostly denote a
form of ritual, and if the ritual can be understood, we see why such and
such a deity was worshipped at such and such a season. It is possible
to give a meaningful tally of the gods featured in the calendars and of
the months that belong to each of them—provided that we reconstruct
sufficient calendars by a principled use of analogy.21 Month-names are
therefore another relic of the Early Iron Age.
The gods prominent in the calendar, nine in all, must be mentioned
at the outset.22 Six of them are in fact the gods of our ἁγνός inscriptions,
associated likewise with the ἁγνός quality of nature in epic and lyric
poetry: Zeus, Athena, Apollo, Artemis, Demeter, Dionysus. The other
three are Poseidon, Hera, Hermes. These three changed greatly during this
period, Poseidon and Hera losing their importance, Hermes acquiring new
functions.

20 Robertson, “Religious Criterion” pp. 25–36, points to the historical importance of

city calendars. Dickinson, The Aegean pp. 54, 237, shortly afterwards happens to speak of
calendars by the way, but only to discount them on the ground that the festivals for which
the months are named are not demonstrably of early origin. Not so. The same festivals are
imprinted in calendars throughout the Greek world, and the distribution of these calen-
dars according to dialect shows that they originate at the time the dialects were formed,
early in the Early Iron Age. Thereafter speakers of a given dialect lived in scattered places
throughout the Mediterranean and could not possibly conspire to create a characteristic
festival and month. Some forty years ago, J. Sarkady in a series of valuable articles (see
the bibliography) pointed to the significance of calendars as reflecting early conditions.
But the clue was not followed up; at that time calendars were thought by many to vary
unpredictably (n. 21 below).
21 For a long time, reconstruction of this kind was out of favour. It has been fully vin-
dicated by the important work of Trümpy, Monatsnamen: cf. Rigsby, review of Trümpy
p. 550.
22 The tally is as follows, with the number of monthly slots that each god commonly
occupies. Those with ἁγνός associations: Apollo (10 months), Demeter (6), Dionysus (6),
Artemis (4), Athena (3), Zeus (2). Those without ἁγνός associations: Poseidon (5), Hera
(4), Hermes (2). Two complicating factors should be mentioned. First, Demeter and Dio-
nysus are each typically worshipped on just two staple occasions, respectively sowing and
harvest, pruning the vines and opening the new wine; they each account for so many
month-slots only because these staple occasions come at different times in different
places. Second, the month Panamus, far commoner than any other but differing widely in
its placement, has been excluded from the reckoning. The deity in question is unknown,
and need not always have been the same. To explain this paradoxical situation, Trümpy
suggests that Panamus originated as an intercalary feature. She may well be right, but if
not some other exceptional circumstance must be found.
204 noel robertson

Archaeology and epic poetry both fix on climate change as a funda-

mental cause of the Mycenaean collapse. The climate became colder and
wetter, causing a shift of population away from areas of wind and rain—
which means from west to east in the Greek peninsula, then seawards
through the Aegean islands to the coast of Anatolia.23 Clothing changed
from light wool or linen to heavy wool fastened with long pins and arched
fibulas. As a result of both the weather and the movement of people,
much of the cultivated land was abandoned and crops were given up as
unreliable. Thus far archaeology. The same conditions appear in legend as
caused by Zeus and Athena—the sky god Zeus and the maiden Athena
who sprang from his head, then dropped from the sky as a wooden image,
to become an object of worship representing both.24
In the story of the Golden Fleece, located in Thessaly, an essential
sacrifice to Zeus miscarries and the crops fail until Jason ‘Healer’ jour-
neys eastward to the land of the Sun, sacrifices a magic ram, and sows a
magic field to produce a burgeoning harvest. In another legend generally
taken as suggestive of reality, the overseas empire of king Minos of Crete
is challenged—and afterwards overthrown—along Greece’s east coast
and among the offshore islands. The same result ensues: this area suffers
famine as a punishment, but the hero Aeacus manages to appease Zeus
with sacrifice. After the Trojan War, the heroic age of Greece entire is
brought to an end by a great storm that wrecks and scatters the returning
Greeks; it is sent by Zeus and Athena to punish their wickedness. Hesiod’s
Catalogue of Women, itself a general review of heroic dynasties, concludes
with an extraordinary passage that elaborates this theme to the utmost.
Zeus with inscrutable purpose causes a sudden drastic weather change
that leads to trafficking overseas, the abduction of Helen, and the Trojan
War—and thereafter to the separation of the race of heroes and the race
of men, these the creatures of the ensuing Iron Age.25
City calendars present an alarming picture of winter weather, perilous
because subject to the anger of Zeus and Athena. November is the month
when newly sown fields are most exposed to storms, and the sea is alto-
gether unsafe for ships. In a large majority of calendars it is named for a
festival of Zeus or Athena or both. The names are expressive. Maimaktêr

23 Snodgrass, Dark Age pp. 309–10, 313 (hesitantly), CAH2 III 1 pp. 663–64 (decisively).
24 Robertson, “Athena and Early Greek Society” pp. 389–90, 392–413, and “Athena as
Weather Goddess” pp. 50–55.
25 West, “Hesiodea” pp. 132–36 is the essential commentary on this passage; Clay, “The
beginning and end” pp. 29–34 is the latest, with interesting suggestions.
 the concept of purity in greek sacred laws 205

‘Raging’ is an archaic word that serves as epithet of Zeus; the attested

ritual features the use of a purifying fleece.26 Daidaphorios ‘Torch-bearing’
denotes a ritual fire-setting that simulates a lightning strike by way of con-
ciliating Zeus.27 Alalkomenios ‘Warding-off’ evokes the warrior Athena as
joined with Zeus in the season’s ritual.28 These calendar months reflect
a fundamental change of belief, reflected also in Hesiod’s new pantheon
of Olympian gods. The sky god Zeus with his far-seeing purpose becomes
the new ruler of nature and society, displacing the irascible weather god
Poseidon who was foremost in the Mycenaean period, the counterpart of
other weather gods in cities and empires throughout the Near East.29 In
city calendars Poseidon receives the nominal tribute of giving his name
to December, the bleakest month of all, but the festival in question is
virtually unknown.30 Poseidon’s worship everywhere declined and legend
depicts him as obsessed with resentment of Zeus.31
Agriculture, highly organized in Mycenaean times, became unreliable
with climate change. A shrinking population relapsed at first into a pas-
toral regime that has always been suited to the Greek peninsula when
nothing else is sure.32 Such is a plausible if controversial interpretation of
archaeological and scientific data; it is strongly supported by calendar evi-
dence.33 Communities that were now very small moved about with flocks
and herds, passing from low ground in winter to high ground in sum-
mer, and back again. The two seasonal transitions in spring and autumn

26 Robertson, “Athena as Weather Goddess” p. 53 and Religion and Reconciliation pp.

247–48.
27 Robertson, Religion and Reconciliation pp. 243–45, 247.
28 This is the last month of the year in the Boeotian calendar, serving also as intercalary
month. The sanctuary site so named is evoked by Homer to typify the warlike Athena (Il.
IV 8, V 908); it was of the first importance in early days, though little known later.
29 With his temper and his trident Poseidon is a typical weather god of the Near East-
ern kind—but discredited in Greece by the climate event of the Early Iron Age, and yield-
ing place to Zeus, steady and principled. The mighty horse Pegasus whom Poseidon begets
on Medusa is afterwards tamed in the service of Zeus, either carrying Zeus’ lightning or
drawing his chariot. In the old story of Bellerophon, Pegasus’ stamping ground is Lycia,
and now his very name proves to be the epithet of a Luwian weather god, i.e. one native
to this region: see Hutter, “Der Luwische Wettergott”. One could not ask for a neater dem-
onstration of the change.
30 See Robertson, “Poseidon’s Festival”.
31 The decline of Poseidon’s worship is a central theme in the thorough catalogue of his
cults by Mylonopoulos, Πελοπόννησος.
32 Cf. Campbell, Honour pp. 1–18; Hammond, Migrations pp. 37–51, 129–31, and CAH2 III
1, pp. 621–24, 639–44, 698–99, 703–4.
33 Apart from the calendar, this interpretation is fully discussed by Snodgrass, Archaeol-
ogy of Greece pp. 184–209.
206 noel robertson

are marked in the calendar by festivals of the god Apollo—which hap-

pen to correspond very closely to those of St. George and St. Demetrius
as observed by Greek shepherds living in areas unclaimed by settled life
down to the mid 20th century.34 The two Saints were no doubt recruited
for the purpose in early Byzantine times, another Dark Age in the pen-
insula. Apollo, according to what is now a common opinion, was newly
adopted in the Early Iron Age beside other Olympian gods inherited from
Mycenaean times. New festivals established in his honour dominate the
whole fair weather season during which dispersed communities gathered
only at monthly intervals to concert their plans.35 As in modern times,
the most striking and important are those of May and October at the
beginning and the end of this season, often with the names Thargelia and
Pyanopsia that denote purifying rites.
The weather change of spring is associated also with Artemis, unlike
Apollo an age-old deity in Greece, whose innumerable shrines are often
in the countryside, beyond all the settled areas.36 She is goddess of the
hunt, a mode of bare subsistence that quickens in spring, when the ani-
mals grow active and the brightening sky is ruled by the moon—in virtue
of which Artemis is also goddess of women.37 Artemis and Apollo were
now spliced together in myth as ostensible twins, even though their pow-
ers are mostly quite unlike and their cult-sites are nearly always separate.
Artemis’ long-accustomed festivals come just before the spring festival
of Apollo; according to myth the twins were delivered of their goddess
mother on successive days in May.38

34 Feasts of St. George and St. Demetrius, 6th May and 8th November: Campbell, Hon-
our pp. 7, 115, 343–44, 352. Equivalent festivals of Apollo are Thargêlia and Pyanopsia,
whence the Ionian month-names corresponding to May and October (other dialects have
other festival- and month-names, but likewise belonging to Apollo).
35 His festivals as we shall see dominate the whole fair weather season, in range and
number far surpassing those of any other deity.
36 Though ‘Artemis’ is not mentioned by name in Mycenaean tablets, the not infre-
quent title potnia with local designations may typically belong to her. Potnia aswiya of PY
Fr 1206 is discussed with other instances by Morris, “Potnia aswiya”, who equates her with
Artemis of Ephesus.
37 “The hunter waits beneath a cold sky, forgetful of his wife at home”, says Horace
(Carm. I 1.25–26), no doubt evoking some passage of Greek lyric poetry, his professed
model. He waits in the early morning light of spring as nocturnal animals return to their
lairs.
38 Festivals of Artemis are concentrated—perhaps more than those of any other deity—
in March and April, either of which is often named simply for ‘Artemis’, otherwise for the
festival ‘Laphria’, to be explained as a differentiated form of ‘Elaphebolia’, deer-slaying
rites. At Athens March is named precisely for ‘Elaphebolia’, and April too is named for a
festival of Artemis which was spelled ‘Munichia’ in the light of the month-name as epi-
graphically attested; cf. Threatte, Grammar I pp. 264–65, upholding this form as the cor-
 the concept of purity in greek sacred laws 207

Other deities of pasturing are independent of the transhumant pattern.

They go back to the Mycenaean age, when sheep were reared in huge
numbers as a leading feature of the economy, and goats and oxen had
their uses too. ‘Meter’ the reputed ‘mother’ of the gods was an ancient
power even then.39 She is later honoured with festivals of spring and
summer marking pastoral occasions that evoke a picture of primordial
simplicity, the Golden Age. She and ‘Despoina’ and others are found
mostly in marginal areas of later times where old ways survived—and
as we shall see they are among the strictest of all in demanding purity of
the ἁγνός kind.
Towards the end of the Early Iron Age, conditions improved quickly,
possibly reflecting an improvement in the weather too. Larger communi-
ties on sites both old and new, recognizably of the polis kind, were able
to reclaim agricultural land and to produce the staple crops of grain and
wine with a success that is dramatically depicted in legend and docu-
mented in the calendar festivals of Demeter and Dionysus. Legends of
Demeter tell how the goddess came to different cities and bestowed the
gift of grain together with the magic ritual behind it.40 Those of Dionysus
tell even more excitingly how the god on arriving at different cities over-
came and punished wicked opposition.41 In the calendar, Demeter’s festi-
val of the sowing in early autumn lasts several days and draws a general
attendance, sometimes with women segregated.42 Dionysus has a pair of
festivals in winter and in spring that celebrate the pruning of the vines and
the opening of the new wine respectively.43 Unlike every other crop, the
grape and wine cycle extends over a full two years, so that Dionysus’ fes-
tivals as they apply to any given habitat are known as ‘trieteric’ or ‘every-
second-year’ (literally ‘every-third-year’, with inclusive reckoning as a
further complication).

rect one. But the termination ‘-ichia’ can be discounted as analogical, beside so many
such words; the less common form ‘Munychia’ is no doubt a contraction of *µουνο-νύχια,
night-only rites. Processioners carried cakes with lighted candles up to the hill-top shrine,
as if to reinforce the full moon in the sky. Hunting is again a principal concern, for the
foundation story speaks of a hunter who swam ashore in the remote past when this coastal
hill was an island.
39 Cf. Robertson, “Missing Chapter”, and Religion and Reconciliation pp. 69–83.
40 The legends are surveyed by Richardson, The Homeric Hymn pp. 148–150, 178–79.
41 Such moral tales are likely to be a principal reason why the imperious and trium-
phant Yahweh, when the Greeks encounter him in the Hellenistic period, is often equated
with Dionysus, otherwise a surprising choice instead of Zeus.
42 Demeter’s ‘Eleusinia’ ritual is for men and women both, her ‘Thesmophoria’ ritual,
even more widespread, for women only: Robertson, “New Light” pp. 374–79, “Two Proces-
sions” pp. 568–72, “Sequence of Days” pp. 25–33.
43 Robertson, “Orphic Mysteries” pp. 229–32, Encycl. Rel. I 374–76 s.v. Anthesteria.
208 noel robertson

There was also a late addition to the pantheon of deities, the healer
Asclepius. He inherits a role that formerly belonged to his father Apollo.
As a pastoral deity, Apollo at first watched over the health of both men
and animals: epidemic illness such as falls on both was attributed to his
terrible anger, to unseen arrows shot from a mighty bow. But as the new
cities grew and conditions improved, there was more concern for indi-
vidual illness, and afflicted persons turned rather to the kindly hero who
was Apollo’s son, born of an erring mortal woman and barely saved from
her funeral pyre. Like his father, Asclepius was often worshipped in a semi-
rural setting of groves and springs, but now with regard to the cleanliness
and peace thus provided. It is in shrines of Asclepius that purity comes to
be exalted as a quality of the soul or of the mind.
Asclepius came too late to be registered in calendar nomenclature.
Otherwise, we have dealt with six gods prominent in the calendar—Zeus
and Athena, Apollo and Artemis, Demeter and Dionysus—who are all
represented later both by ἁγνός inscriptions and by mentions in litera-
ture associating them with the ἁγνός quality. But as already said, three
other gods are prominent in the calendar, but unrepresented by any ἁγνός
inscription or association. These are Poseidon, Hera, and Hermes. They
go back to Mycenaean times as surely as any of the others, but in the
course of the Early Iron Age each of them undergoes a profound change.
Poseidon and Hera lose favour, so as to be neglected in cult and dimin-
ished, even mocked, in myth. Hermes does not lose favour but is com-
pletely re-invented. Together, they supply a contrast that reinforces the
ἁγνός criterion.
Poseidon as weather god is worshipped in mid-winter, in December
or January, right after Zeus and Athena. These two however are solely
responsible for the weather events of Greek legend, and Poseidon loses
his former pre-eminence, as we saw. Hera was a former goddess “Earth”,
as Zeus was a former “Sky”, in both cases the literal meaning of these
Indo-European names.44 Her ancient role as partner of Sky was signalled
by three occasions in the year. She was honoured in autumn as a girl ‘ripe’
for marriage; shortly after the winter solstice, in the ‘Sacred Marriage’ fes-
tival of calendars throughout Greece, as a wife ‘fulfilled’; in summer as a
woman ‘grown old’.45 Despite this evident pattern of age-old ritual, the

44 Zeus “Sky” is stock-in-trade of both linguistics and the history of religion. Among
several contested views of Hera’s origins, this one finds support in the solid linguistic and
historical evidence adduced by Renehan, “Hera as Earth-Goddess”.
45 According to Pausanias (VIII 22.2), Arcadian cults of Hera are classified by legend as of
three kinds, addressed to her either as Παῖς “Girl” or Τελεία “Fulfilled” or Χήρα “Grown-old”.
 the concept of purity in greek sacred laws 209

rites in question were neglected in historical times, or continued only with

some secondary meaning. Instead, Hera became a hostile power, beget-
ting Giants as enemies of Zeus in the new story of the Gigantomachy,
which follows a Near Eastern pattern of opposition to the weather god.
Other myths of Hera are downright insulting. Like Poseidon she becomes
a lesser sibling of Zeus, and like him is derided as quarrelsome and inef-
fectual; the all-powerful lord of Olympus is impatient of both.
Hermes is shown by his herald’s staff to be god of heralds, who were
once a king’s most trusted officers.46 He has a considerable role in epic
poetry as herald of Zeus, king of heaven, and his most striking role in myth
is to execute Zeus’ spectacular plan for punishing Prometheus (Aesch. PV
941–1093).47 This story of Zeus’ righteous anger belongs to his November
festival marking the onset of winter storms. At Athens, where November is
named for Maimakteria ‘Raging rites’, the reported ritual is in fact the pre-
sentation of a herald’s staff.48 In Thessaly November is named for a festival
Hermaia, as if Hermes or a herald was prominent in the season’s ritual.49
Such odd details are typical of our puzzled picture of festival origins in
the Early Dark Age. Yet they suffice to indicate that the god Hermes was
honoured at the outset for his connexion with the new weather god.
Thereafter he survived in good repute, as Poseidon and Hera did not. He
kept his herald’s skill as the new civic patron of eloquence and education.
And since a herald was concerned with country roads and journeys, he

Jost, Sanctuaires pp. 359–60, offers only a very tentative interpretation of this remarkable
passage. Hera is little spoken of elsewhere in Pausanias’ long account of Arcadia, which
offered a surfeit of riches; but a corresponding picture of real-life observance can be found
elsewhere. The first stage is evoked by a rite at Argos in which Hera recovers her virginity
each year by bathing in a spring (Paus. 2.38.2–3): after the withering heat of summer, the
rains of autumn cause springs to flow again. The second stage corresponds of a certainty
to the widespread rite of winter variously called Γάµος, Γαµήλια, Τέλεια, Εὔκλεια, at which
both Zeus and Hera are indeed invoked as Τέλειος and Τελεία. The third with equal cer-
tainty corresponds to the festival of high summer and of withering heat, called Ἥραια
at Argos and ∆αίδαλα at Plataea, which inspires many stories of Hera estranged from
Zeus and acting spitefully, as in the cases of Io at Argos and “Asopus’ daughter Plataea”
(Paus. IX 3.1–2).
46 So Mondi, “Function and Social Position”.
47 Prometheus’ wretched state, pinioned on a rock and assailed by a storm-bird or
overwhelmed by a literal storm, exemplifies the power of ‘Raging’ Zeus at the time of his
November festival.
48 The Athenian ritual is known only from Eustathius (Od. XXII 481, p. 1935.5), excerpt-
ing some antiquarian source. Items just before and after are drawn from Pausanias Atticus:
Erbse, Untersuchungen pp. 165 (Paus. α 150), 173 (Paus. δ 18).
49 Apropos of the month-name Graninger, “Regional Cults” pp. 47–48, points to Thes-
salian inscriptions in which Hermes appears as conductor of the dead, with the title
chthonios. Yet this is not a seasonal role suited to a month-name.
210 noel robertson

also became a guardian of country roads, a patron of hucksters who travel

them, a mischievous rival of Apollo, and the father of Pan.50 But all of it is
outside the ἁγνός milieu, conspicuously so.
Such are the conditions of the Early Iron Age that created a concern for
the ἁγνός quality and a preference for deities of the kind described. These
conditions did not exist beforehand, in the Mycenaean age. Later they
gave way to the relative security of the developing polis and of Panhellenic
institutions, which together made possible a quality of life unknown
before, in Greece or elsewhere. The pantheon of Olympian gods that origi-
nated in the Early Iron Age continued to change as society did; they lent
themselves to many changing fashions of belief and finally to syncretism
and even monotheism. Throughout all this, their first formative days were
permanently captured in our ἁγνός inscriptions. In the following sections
these inscriptions are examined as they pertain to each deity, in the same
order as above.51

4. Zeus and Athena

As we saw, Zeus and Athena bring stormy wind and rain at the end of
autumn. In this capacity they are worshipped at the top of hills or moun-
tains, an archaic setting more often evoked in literature than represented
by actual remains. Such however are the cults of Mount Cythnus on Delos,
of the acropolis at Lindus, and of the acropolis at Pergamum, all known
for ἁγνός rules.52 The sanctuary of Mount Cynthus was on other evidence
the destination of a processional carrying of arms, probably shields and
spears, appropriate to the autumn festival.53 As a consequence, actual ‘arms
of war’ are specified by the rules as the kind forbidden to worshippers.

50 On any view of Hermes’ origins it is fanciful to associate his name with ἕρµα ‘prop,
pile’ in a supposed sense or function of roadside marker.
51 I follow the usual practice of citing sacred laws consistently from the three co-ordi-
nate volumes of F. Sokolowski, LSAM of 1955, LSS of 1962, LSCG of 1969. Two advantages
of Sokolowski’s collection of 422 inscriptions are full bibliographies up to the dates indi-
cated, including the constitution of texts, and informed discussion of many matters. It is
no secret, however, that Sokolowski’s own texts are unreliable—careless, arbitrary, down-
right misleading. I point to later work where it is helpful. The excellent GSL of 2005, by
E. Lupu, gathers 27 sacred laws published since 1969.
52 LSS 59, Delos, 116/15 bc (Zeus and Athena); LSAM 12, Pergamum, II bc (Athena); LSS
91, Lindus, III ad (Athena).
53 Bruneau, Recherches pp. 222–32, presents and interprets the epigraphic evidence. It
belongs entirely to the Hellenistic period, but the excavators traced the sanctuary back to
Archaic times, with both deities accounted for by the 6th century.
 the concept of purity in greek sacred laws 211

‘Keeping pure from woman’ is one of the foremost rules, drastic in its
simplicity; it seems to follow that women were excluded altogether from
the cult.54 Though Cynthian Zeus and Athena are Greek in origin and in
every detail of their cult, the numerous foreigners on Delos came to wor-
ship too, thinking no doubt of native deities in Anatolia and Syria that
are similar.55
At the acropolis sanctuaries of both Pergamum and Lindus the purity
rules concern Athena alone, whereas Zeus occupies a separate precinct
nearby.56 In both cases it is likely that Athena has been assimilated some-
what to Anatolian goddesses.57 These rules are elaborate, and specify the
intervals for different kinds of sexual activity and for contact with miscar-
riage and death, and in some cases call for careful washing as well, an
unusual requirement.58 Those of Lindus, as late as the third century ad,
end with two elegiac couplets commending the pure and warning others
away; they approach the moral tone of some other late rules described
below (sect. 12).
In the mid 4th century bc, on the prosperous island of Cos newly
united as a single city, Zeus polieus ‘of the city’ is honoured at a festival
of early spring that includes a striking rule of purity.59 A festival of Zeus
at just this time, late February, is ancient and widespread—without ever
giving its name to the month, inasmuch as it occurs near the month-end,
in the uncanny dark of the moon.60 The sky god is now thought of as

54 So Bruneau, Recherches p. 230.

55 Cf. Renberg, ‘Commanded by the Gods’ p. 360.
56 At Pergamum, it is the Great Altar of Zeus. At Lindus, Zeus has a sanctuary some-
where on the acropolis in the light of indications cited by Morelli, Culti p. 80; there is no
good reason to suppose him a late addition, as Morelli does.
57 Lightfoot, Lucian p. 511, compares our two Greek inscriptions to the laws of purity
reported of Lucian’s Syrian goddess.
58 According to Deshours, L’Été indien p. 238, the purity rules of Pergamum, like the
following two sections of the same inscription, reflect a resurgence of local pride in old
Greek ways, as distinct from a more cosmopolitan outlook. She does not take up details,
however, and they hardly support her argument.
59 The festival date, 19–20 Batromios, is given by LSCG 151 A 46 together with B 12.
Though reconstruction of Cos’ calendar is still tentative (and bound up with the cal-
endar of Rhodes), it is apparent that Batromios can only be a month of late winter or
early spring, and most likely February; Trümpy, Monatsnamen pp. 178, 182, 185, argues
so at length. Apart from any calendar reconstruction, Smith, “Zeus Polieus”, pp. 23–24,
finds cogent reasons for supposing that the seasonal event on Cos is the sprouting of
the crops. As an interesting sidelight, Scullion, ‘Olympian’, pp. 82–92 treats the expres-
sive ritual on Cos as importance evidence for a ‘chthonian’ category of worship beside an
‘Olympian’ one.
60 Thus at Athens, where a corresponding festival of Zeus milichios falls on February
23rd (and this was famously described by the Delphic oracle as ‘the greatest festival of
212 noel robertson

descending to earth, his partner, and joining with her to foster the new
growth of spring.
The festival program begins with a long-drawn process of choosing
the sacrificial victim out of successive groups of oxen presented by each
subdivision of the community, and driven round the agora while super-
stitious signs are observed. When the perfect animal has appeared, two
members of the community are specially deputed for the task of killing
him—even though a sacrificial victim is otherwise killed and butchered
by hired help. During the night that follows, these two officiants are sol-
emnly warned ‘to keep pure from woman and from man’, ἁγνεύεσθαι ἀπὸ
γυναικὸς καὶ ἀνδρός.61 Next day, which is the festival day, they are ready
to play their part: the pure plough-ox is slain by persons equally pure.62
Human kind co-operates with Zeus, animals, and earth to stimulate new
growth, all of them ἁγνός.

5. Apollo

Of all Greek gods Apollo is most concerned with purity. His sacred island
of Delos was subject to drastic rules and procedures banning either birth
or death; his oracle at Delphi ministered to many cities in time of need
with some purifying remedy; and his principal epithet ‘Phoebus’, which
also serves as another name, was generally taken to mean ‘Pure’.63 He
owes this exceptional concern to his early function, later much reduced,

Zeus’), Anthesterion = February is named for the new-wine festival of Dionysus on the
11th through 13th.
61 The parity of other-sex and same-sex relations is typically Dorian, the ethnic affili-
ation of Cos.
62 I have simplified somewhat in order to be clear. During that long-drawn process in
the agora two oxen, not one, are chosen successively, and the second is sacrificed at once
in the agora, the recipient being Hestia ‘Hearth’, symbolic centre of the community. It is
because the newly inscribed rules belong to the larger community synoecized in 366 bc;
this event was signalled by a duplication of the sacrificial victim. The pair of ox-slayers also
represent a duplication, one of them being deputed by an official body, the hieropoioi, who
originate with the synoecism; both however are concerned with the ox offered to Zeus,
the original one.
63 Plutarch, speaking as a Delphic priest with expert knowledge, insists on the meaning
‘pure’ for Φοῖβος, and cites the technical term φοιβονοµεῖσθαι ‘keep pure’ used of priests in
Thessaly when they suspend activity on certain uncanny days (De E ap. Delph. 20, 393c).
The adjective φοῖβος, as distinct from the epithet and words like φοιβάζω coined with the
epithet in mind, means only ‘bright’; φοιβάω means ‘brighten, polish’ metal or furniture. In
fact the true accent for the adjective appears to be φοιβός (Bacch. Epinic. xiii 139, a papy-
rus text). In this form it resembles a good many short emphatic words denoting colour
or texture.
 the concept of purity in greek sacred laws 213

as a healing god.64 Before the rise of medicine, sickness was thought of as

a pollution that required cleansing by whatever means. The difficulty of
finding the right means made Apollo also a god of oracles.
Cyrene is a Dorian city in Libya where Apollo was the leading civic deity,
honoured as archêgetês ‘founder’ with reference to the Delphic oracle. A
long sacred law posted in his sanctuary sets forth rules of purity that go far
beyond all the rest of the genre (LSS 115, Cyrene, 335–324 bc).65 Just a few of
them are conventional, about intercourse and birth and death and admis-
sion to the sanctuary (A 11–20, 32–79, B 40–59, and the rules of Artemis
mentioned below, pp. 218–19). Others are forms of ritual newly devised
for contemporary needs and inserted with the conventional items as
if they shared the same timeless authority. It is a tribute to Apollo’s purify-
ing power, but the details are mostly irrelevant to our present subject.
In early days oracular Apollo had local cults in many places, including
the Aeolian domain on Lesbos and along the adjacent coast of Mysia.66
Such a cult is evoked at the beginning of the Iliad, when Apollo sends a
plague on the Greek army and is entreated at the emblematic site Chryse
‘Gold’. About the fullest of all regular laws of purity belongs to an oracular
shrine at Eresus on Lesbos (LSCG 124, II bc). The name of the deity does
not in fact appear, and this important inscription has been neglected in
consequence.67 It is Apollo beyond a doubt. The following points support
the identification.
1) Hesychius’ gloss Ἐρέσιος· Ἀπόλλων “Eresian: Apollo” shows that the
local cult was famous. 2) The inscription distinguishes between the sanctu-
ary precinct and a “temple” with more restricted access—no woman may
enter “except the priestess and the prophetess”. A temple with restricted
access, and a prophetess, are both distinctive of Apollo’s oracular shrines.68

64 See e.g. Nilsson, Feste pp. 97–101 and Geschichte I, pp. 538–44; Parker, Miasma
pp. 209–10, 275–76, 393.
65 This inscription has been subject to notorious problems of both text and interpreta-
tion; it is fully treated by Robertson, Religion and Reconciliation pp. 259–374.
66 Parke, Oracles of Apollo pp. 171–79 assembles the evidence for this area.
67 When the inscription was first made known in 1902, Apollo was canvassed by
P. Kretschmer. But the standard view or rather quandary was soon imposed by Ziehen,
LSG 117 and is repeated by Sokolowski, LSCG 124. Ziehen and Sokolowski think of a god-
dess rather than a god. Yet the scattered reports of oracular goddesses—for which see
Latte, RE XVIII 1 (1939) 832–33, 837–38 s. Orakel—nowhere suggest an establishment like
the one at Eresus.
68 The prophetess at Delphi, commonly called ‘Pythia’, is referred to sometimes as
‘priestess’, sometimes as ‘prophetess’. A ‘priestess’ distinct from a ‘prophetess’ is not oth-
erwise heard of at any of Apollo’s oracles, but this is not surprising if she was a subordinate
214 noel robertson

3) Arms and metals are banned, this too distinctive of Apollo (as we
shall see in a moment).69 4) Both galloi and women exulting as gallai,
i.e. male and female worshippers of Meter, are banned from the pre-
cinct: an extraordinary rule. Yet a corresponding picture has lately been
revealed by excavation at Mytilene, the leading city of Lesbos.70 A shrine
of the Geometric and Archaic periods very likely belongs to Meter, since
the most characteristic finds are statuettes of a usual type depicting the
goddess—but ‘Apollo’ appears as a graffito on a vase, and must be a neigh-
bour, perhaps a rival. Apollo and Meter are indeed rivals in respect of
healing power.71 At Eresus and Mytilene we see reverse images of their
rivalry, here in a shrine of Apollo and there in one of Meter.
The contents are as follows, with a few words supplied by conjecture
where the stone is damaged. The usual matters of death, birth and inter-
course are mentioned first, but it takes much longer to be pure again (lines
1–9). 20 days after death in the family, 3 days after other death; 10 days after
[miscarriage], 40 days for the woman herself; 3 days after [live birth], 10
days for the mother; straightway after intercourse, which is indeed usual.
Next certain persons and things are forbidden altogether (lines 10–14).
[Persons accurst?] and traitors, galloi and gallai, warlike arms and any
animal hide.72 Finally, the temple building has its own exclusions (lines
15–20). Iron and bronze except coin, shoes and other leather; any woman
but the priestess and prophetess. At the last there is a further rule against
watering flocks and herds in the precinct (lines 21–22)—but this rule is a
commonplace of decency and order, distinct from laws of purity.
It is thus a mixture of things. Ordinary rules of purity—so many days after
death etc.—are combined with others excluding dangerous or disorderly
persons—criminals under two general heads, tumultuous worshippers
of Meter—and dangerous or offensive things—arms, hide etc. Iron in

figure. Since men always take charge, Delphi and other Apolline oracles have ‘priests’ as
well, and Didyma even has a ‘prophet’ more spoken of than the prophetess.
69 At Delphi, says Ziehen, spoils of war were the commonest of dedications, often pro-
claiming the victory of one city over another; hence “warlike arms” could not possibly be
excluded from any shrine of oracular Apollo. But things that worshippers must not carry
on their persons may well be acceptable as dedications.
70 The results of excavation in 1973 are summarized and illustrated by Spencer, ‘Lesbos’
pp. 296–99 and by Mazarakis Ainian, Early Iron Age pp. 89–91, 331, figs. 355–56.
71 Meter’s expertise is the treatment of mental disorders by means of ecstatic music
and dancing—which is also the ritual behaviour of galloi and gallai, banned from Apollo’s
shrine.
72 At the beginning of line 10 the missing word is perhaps ἐναγέας ‘persons accurst’, i.e.
all those guilty of serious crimes. It is a general term more like ‘traitors’ than either of the
words meaning ‘homicides’ suggested by Ziehen and Sokolowski respectively.
 the concept of purity in greek sacred laws 215

particular is proscribed elsewhere. “Do not bring iron into the sanctuary”
is the single rule blazoned on both sides of a stele at a shrine of Apollo at
Minoa on Amorgos (LSS 60, V–IV bc). Iron is excluded from a shrine of the
hero Menedemus on the island of Cythnos because, according to a fanci-
ful aition, this hero was cut down at Troy by a rain of blows (Callim. fr.
dub. 663).73 “Warlike arms”, a term used at Eresus, are also proscribed at
certain shrines of Zeus.74 Such rules are directed against persons bearing
arms, not against metals superstitiously regarded.75 What persons bearing
arms might they be? It is true that in later days soldiers served on garrison
duty in many cities. But the rule at Minoa is distinctly earlier, and the
rule on Cythnus is adorned with a tale of old days. This is a long estab-
lished prohibition that looks back to conditions of the Early Iron Age.
As Thucydides well knew (I 5.3–6.3), σιδηροφορεῖσθαι ‘to bear iron’ was
characteristic of the unsettled conditions then. He likely knew it, perhaps
he chose the very term, because of such sanctuary rules. What of “hide”,
“shoes”, “other leather”, mentioned beside the metals? Shoes, or certain
shoes, are indeed proscribed elsewhere, but mainly as ostentation, which
can hardly be the reason here.76 And why all articles of hide? Because, it
has been suggested, a hide as used in manufactured goods might come
not from a sacrificial victim but from an animal dying in any way at all,
then discovered as carrion—so that the product would defile a sanctuary.77
This does not suit the context either. Now in the precinct hide goes with
warlike arms, and in the temple shoes and other leather go with iron and
bronze. In early days leather goods are typically spoils of war, inasmuch
as flocks and herds are the usual object of raids and disputes.78

73 Schol. Ov. Ib. 451, who cites Callimachus apropos of Cythnus (the place-name being
corrected from another source), reports that “the ritual was conducted without iron”,
which is the actual language of a sanctuary rule. Such language inspires the story of a hero
killed by sword blows, whence Ovid’s threat of as many “knife” blows for his imaginary
enemy. We should not suppose that sacrifice was somehow performed without a knife,
as does Pfeiffer ad loc., oddly comparing a Parian sacrifice conducted without flutes and
wreaths (Callim. fr. 3).
74 LSCG 59 line 21, Zeus and Athena at Mount Cynthus on Delos, 116/15 bc, “no weapons
of war”; LSAM 68 lines 2–3, Zeus Panamaros, Stratoniceia, “do not bring in a warlike arm”.
75 To be sure, bronze and iron are both of them uncanny, associated with witches for
example, and bronze like silver and gold may be objectionable as luxurious adornment.
Wächter’s survey of “metals”, Reinheit pp. 115–18, includes many disparate items; it is not
always the appropriate category.
76 Wächter, Reinheit pp. 23–24, 55, 57–58, 61. Shoes are banned at both Andania and
Lycosura (pp. 216-17, 222–23 below).
77 Thus Nilsson, Geschichte I pp. 97–98.
78 Excepting only the Trojan War, the greatest epic cycle was the war “for the flocks of
Oedipus” (Hes. Op. 161–63). Thereafter conditions and customs did not altogether change.
216 noel robertson

In sum, Apollo’s oracle at Eresus gives us laws stricter than elsewhere in

the usual matters of birth and death—and other laws of a different sort,
upholding peace and order. It is not that Apollo enjoins purity of mind,
like his son Asclepius. The rules of peace and order are few and definite
and practical. But they are also of broad concern, quite apart from admis-
sion to the sanctuary. Apollo is patron of several important livelihoods
and undertakings, which together constitute a broader mandate than
that of any other deity. In each of these roles he presides over a corre-
sponding reunion of the community; as was said, Apollo’s festivals mostly
supply the month-names for the whole fair-weather season from April to
September. In so presiding, this new-comer to the pantheon was invested
also with age-old magic rites that give character to the seasonal reunions
and names to the respective months: rites of the scapegoat, of ‘beating the
bounds’, of the ‘maypole’, more truly a seasonal emblem in either spring
or autumn.79 The community background explains why Apollo insists on
basic peace and order. It also explains why he purifies offenders of any
taint of blood when they remain in the community (cf. the inscription of
Tegea cited in 'The cleansing of offenders', p. 235).
Turning away from oracular Apollo, we find the god in a pastoral set-
ting in a remote area of the Greek homeland, the southwest Peloponnesus,
close to the ‘Great Goddesses’ of Arcadia discussed below. Apollo is most
likely the principal deity of the ‘Mysteries of Andania’, a festival lasting
several days in August, celebrated in an extensive grove in the country-
side that was attached, at least in later days, to the city of Messene. These
Mysteries are known mainly for two elaborate revivals, in 369 bc and in
92 bc. At the former date Messene city was refounded after centuries of
Spartan domination, and the country festival was part of the new dispensa-
tion; but we do not know the details. At the latter date they were adorned
with mystery rites of a showy and fashionable kind, as set forth in a long
inscription at the festival site (LSCG 65).80 It begins with the appointment
of supervisors called ἱεροί and ἱεραί, “holy men” and “holy women”, whose
task it will be to oversee the general attendance (lines 1–11). Whereas the

Howe, Pastoral Politics pp. 77–97 describes the unending disputes between Greek cities
over border areas that served as pasture land, together with “three major pan-Hellenic
sacred wars” fought over Apollo’s pasture land round Delphi. Howe’s emphasis is on pos-
session of the land, but animals as booty were important too, and many would be slaugh-
tered at once for hides as well as meat, not incorporated somehow into existing herds.
79 For details, see Nilsson, Feste pp. 101, 105–15, and Geschichte I pp. 530–36.
80 The text is secure except for a few small lacunae. Deshours, Mystères pp. 19–20,
recounts the publication history.
 the concept of purity in greek sacred laws 217

general attendance must observe an elaborate set of rules about cloth-

ing and other external items, the holy ones as married men and women
are sworn emphatically to a rule of purity in their marital life, a private
matter that could not be realistically prescribed for all the others.81 Tents
are constructed for the attendance at large, with rules for their size and
appointment, and for the order and decency of the occupants.
Purity is inherent in the setting, an extensive grove named ‘Karneiasion’,
with a sacred spring and fountain-house named Ἁγνά ‘Pure’. It is unclear
why the worship was thought of as ‘Mysteries’.82 Sacrifice is offered to a
series of deities, perhaps at different points within the grove; at the last
Hagna as goddess of the fountain receives a sheep, and Apollo Karneios
as second last receives an ungelded boar, costliest of all the victims.
On just these points the inscription is supported by the antiquarian
writer Pausanias, who visited the site much later, in the 2nd century ad.83
Pausanias likewise speaks of the ‘Karnasion’ grove and singles out Apollo
Karneios and Hagnê, though his notion of the presiding deities is other-
wise different from the inscription. In a legendary history of the cult
which Pausanias recounts elsewhere the grove is called Lykos, and the
same name is given to an Athenian hero who is said to have founded the
Mysteries in the remote past: not a surprising assertion, when we remem-
ber the immense prestige of Athens and the Mysteries there, both those
of Eleusis and those of Phlya. Now Lykos unfailingly evokes Apollo Lykeios,
another title of the god at the same season. Apollo Karneios has no place
at Athens, but Apollo Lykeios does. The substitution is necessary if Athens
is to receive credit for the founding.84

81 “I have lived a life together with my husband ὁσίως καὶ δικαίως faithfully and righ-
teously” (line 9). The vow is put in somewhat secular terms appropriate to the context
of official business. The language of ritual purity is insistent in a vow even stricter which
Athens imposed on a college of fourteen women, the gerarai, officiating in certain rites of
Dionysus. “I keep pure and I am clean and pure both from all the things that are not clean
and from intercourse with a man” ([Dem.] lix Neaera 78).
82 To discuss the background of the Mysteries is to enter a maze of controversy that has
been winding inconclusively ever since the inscription came to light more than 150 years
ago. The latest treatments are Zunino, Hiera pp. 301–34, and Deshours, Mystères, the fullest
ever, which is valuable for its attention to the physical environment and to the possible
bearing of cult-sites recently excavated in the Agora of Messene.
83 Description of the festival site: Paus. IV 33.4–6. Legendary history: Paus. IV 1.5–9,
2.6, 3.10.
84 The matter of the hero Lykos is complicated by an association he acquired only in
Pausanias’ own time. At this late date a prominent Athenian family named ‘Lycomidae’
professed descent from the legendary figure; Pausanias elsewhere, in his visit to Athens,
gives a flattering account of the family’s involvement in Athenian cults; he also adjusts the
218 noel robertson

Apollo Karneios and his great festival Karneia, which gives its name
to August in most Dorian calendars, are a Dorian institution famous in
history.85 The festival was celebrated during several days under the full
moon of August while the worshippers were lodged in tents. To this
extent—and apart from the other presiding deities in the inscription, and
still others known to Pausanias—the Mysteries of Andania appear to be
simply a version of the Karneia.86 It is feasible to speak of a ‘version’. The
Messenians, though Dorian, were miserably oppressed for several centu-
ries by Dorian Sparta. The revivals of 369 and 92 bc are two occasions
when the Messenians were able to assert themselves, with help from other
Greek states. They might well choose to restore this premier Dorian fes-
tival, and to present it in a form that suggested an unbroken tradition
maintained in secret: ‘Mysteries of Andania’.

6. Artemis

For reasons given above, the ancient goddess Artemis was associated with
the new-comer Apollo in certain festivals. Her power begins in early spring,
when the moon lights up a cloudless sky and brings a welcome change of
weather.87 This makes Artemis both a goddess of women by natural affin-
ity and an imaginary huntress, since hunting begins in early spring as the
animals grow more active. At Cyrene, in the area of Apollo’s sanctuary
reserved for Artemis, a young woman is told at some length how to keep
pure at successive stages—as bride-to-be, as new bride, and as expec-
tant mother (LSCG 115 B 1–23, 335–324 bc).88 On conceiving a child, she
assimilates herself by magic actions to a bear, and obeys a priestess called
‘Bear’. Bears were common in early Greece, and the ritual is inspired by a
bearish characteristic: she-bears in their strength and resolve are a model

legendary history and imports ‘Great Goddesses’ from the sphere of the Lycomidae into
the Mysteries of Andania.
85 The Karneia as Dorian institution: Robertson, Religious Criterion pp. 36–74.
86 So Robertson, “Melanthus” pp. 246–54. Deshours, Mystères d’Andania pp. 234–35
simply rejects this out of hand (“intellectually stimulating, but not proven”, irony as
argument).
87 In early days and in folklore moons are named for a succession of natural events
and associated activities throughout the year—though ‘year’ is not a concept, only the
series of moons: cf. Nilsson, Time-reckoning pp. 217–25 (primitive examples), pp. 282–310
(folklore of modern Europe, beginning with Greece). Artemis embodies this outlook in a
more advanced society.
88 For text and interpretation see Robertson, Religion and Reconciliation pp. 319–52.
 the concept of purity in greek sacred laws 219

of maternity, ruthlessly excluding the male. The Bear ritual in turn gives
rise to the famous story of Callisto, one of Artemis’ company of Nymphs,
i.e. nubile women; Callisto’s punishment for involuntary pregnancy is to
be transformed into a bear. Dogs too are associated with Artemis, being
used in the hunt, and bitches are another model of maternity in the readi-
ness with which they conceive and bear a litter. At Miletus the shrine
of Artemis kithônê announces ordinary intervals of keeping pure after
death, birth and intercourse—but a dog giving birth counts no less than
a person (LSAM 51).89 Dogs were kept in many sanctuaries of Artemis,
and were led in procession at her festivals.90 In iconography as in myth
Artemis is a lovely young huntress coursing game with a pack of hounds,
an image totally at variance with the secluded domestic life of Greek girls
and women.
Artemis’ purity is exalted in public ceremony just as in myth. Whereas
the Odyssey describes her as ἁγνή each time she is mentioned (V 123, XVIII
202, XX 71), the record of Athens’ Pythais refers to her not by name but
as Ἁγνὴ Θεός “Pure Goddess” (SEG XXXII 218, lines 43, 84, 131, 103/2–101/0
bc). Stories portray an unyielding virgin offended by male lust and female
unchastity (Orion, Actaeon, Ariadne, Coronis, Callisto). They exaggerate
such rules of cult as we see at Cyrene, where child-bearing is the desired
result: as a practical matter, unyielding virgins are not wanted. The Odyssey
is more realistic in comparing Nausicaa to Artemis (VI 102–9, 151–52),
since Nausicaa is ripe for marriage. The aetiology of the cult of Artemis
kithônê at Miletus goes beyond realism to downright ribaldry. This cult
epithet denotes the short and clinging tunic, kithôn or chitôn, which young
women wear at her festival and the goddess wears in poetry and art, both
in demonstration of fertility.91 It is said that the hero Neleus who founded
the city of Miletus also founded this cult, because his daughter Elegeïs
smacked her vulva and said, “Get yourself a big man”.92

89 “Enter pure . . . from a woman in childbed and from a dog that has given birth (κυνὸς
τετοκυίας) on the third day after washing”.
90 See Scholz, Hund pp. 45–46.
91 The epithet Χιτώνη attested for Miletus, Athens and Syracuse implies a festival name
Χιτῶνες, which has now appeared at Sardis. According to an inscription of Ephesus of
c. 340–320 bc (IEph 2), a group of tradesmen at Sardis are condemned to death for abusing
theôroi from Ephesus who had been sent, according to old custom, ἐπὶ Χιτῶνας “to or for
Chitons”. They were not fetching garments, as commentators suppose, but attending the
festival so called.
92 Cf. Robertson, “Ritual Myth” pp. 237, 243–45.
220 noel robertson

7. Meter

Meter is strictest of the gods as regards intercourse. At eponymous

Metropolis near Colophon one keeps pure for two days after embracing
a wife, for three days after a prostitute (LSAM 29, lines 4–7, IV bc). At
Maeonia in eastern Lydia a man coming from his wife goes to an area
for washing before he enters the sanctuary proper; a prostitute for her
part waits three days and needs a special kind of purification that is not
described (LSAM 18, lines 9–15, 147 bc). In mainland Greece no set of rules
survive from a shrine of Meter. But the same strictness was undoubtedly
observed. A famous story tells of impetuous young lovers, Atalanta and
Hippomenes, who resort to a rustic shrine of Meter near Thebes and
receive a signal punishment (Ov. Met. X 686–704).93 Lydia and Greece
and also Crete—we come to Phaestus below—all shared a strong attach-
ment to this ancient pastoral goddess, and are brought together in a char-
ter myth already known to epic poetry. Meter’s cult on Mount Sipylus,
famous for its Bronze-Age iconography, is home to Lydian Pelops, who
goes forth to establish Meter’s shrine at Olympia and to beget the princi-
pal dynasties of the Greek heartland, ‘the Isle of Pelops’.94
Meter’s strictness in purity leads to other good behaviour. The inscrip-
tion of Metropolis, after dealing with death and intercourse, continues in
an unexpected way. It is forbidden to drag away a suppliant or do anything
unjust, at the risk of Meter’s anger (lines 8–13). As a chance detail in the
orator Aeschines we learn that suppliants at Athens likewise resorted to
Meter’s altar in the Classical Agora (I Tim. 60–61).95 The main city square,
accessible and frequented, was an obvious place of refuge—and was also
a common site for a shrine of Meter. In early days the whole community

93 In the early 5th century Pindar celebrates Theban shrines of Meter both urban and
rustic, the rustic one at Dith. 2.8–14; cf. Robertson, “Missing Chapter” pp. 263–67, 270,
277–78. In another version of their story the heedless lovers find themselves at a shrine
of Zeus, oddly situated in the wilds (Apld. III 8.2.6; Hyg. Fab. 185.6). The variant may be
due to the fact that Zeus as Meter’s offspring is sometimes worshipped beside her, as at
the Idaean cave.
94 See Robertson, Religion and Reconciliation pp. 69–83.
95 Robertson, Religion and Reconciliation pp. 79–80, 136–37, situates the Agora temple,
for such it was, within the long history of Meter’s worship at Athens. In many agoras,
including the Old Agora of Athens, suppliants resorted rather to an altar of Zeus, which at
Athens came to bear the proud label “Altar of Pity”. As between the two deities, Meter is
presumably original, yielding afterwards to her son, in the manner of archetypal Olympia.
It is true that Athens’ Classical Agora is no earlier than c. 500 bc, but we expect it to make
use of old traditions.
 the concept of purity in greek sacred laws 221

came together for her festival of spring, the Galaxia, which celebrated the
weaning of the lambs as a necessary stage before herdsmen departed for
the extensive pasture lands of summer. Later the festival was very much
reduced, but Athens’ Councillors maintained a token celebration in the
Classical Agora.96 The moral injunction at Metropolis that was cited above
follows from the circumstances of Meter’s worship.
At Phaestus, where Meter is found beside the foot of the acropolis, next
to the former Minoan palace, a verse inscription on the wall of her temple
addresses worshippers as ἁγνοί, and includes a detail of her cult that sel-
dom comes to light (ICr I xxiii 3, II bc).97 “She mixes her potion for the
faithful and for those who promise offspring”, τοῖς ὁσίοις κίνχρητι καὶ οἱ
γον-|εὰν ὑπέχονται (lines 3–4). The latter phrase repudiates the self-made
eunuchs who carried purity too far.98 In historical Greece they were gen-
erally disapproved: at Athens the Agora Metrôon was traced back to the
unjust slaying of such a person, a Mêtragyrtes.99
Under the local name Agdistis, Meter appears in a famous inscription
of Philadelphia in Lydia as a well proven guardian of moral law, now
assigned to a newly founded cult with ideals of purity anticipating those
of Christianity (LSAM 20, I bc).100 Philadelphia—an inland city at the foot
of Mount Tmolus—was created by the king of Pergamum in the mid-
second century bc to be a bastion of Greek culture. Two centuries later,
the city became known for one of the earliest Christian communities (Rev.
3.7–13). Between these dates, a substantial citizen named Dionysius was
visited by Zeus in a dream and prompted to found the new cult. As pre-
siding deities, twelve in all, each of whom receives a newly constructed
altar, Dionysius mostly chose personifications such as “Happiness” and
“Wealth”. Thereafter, the long inscription is taken up with rules of purity

96 Robertson, “Missing Chapter” pp. 241–44, cites the scattered evidence for sacrifice in
the Agora. The Council House and Tholos were next to Meter’s temple, itself the archives
office for decrees and other documents. In early days, before papyrus was imported in
quantity, archives consisted of skins from Meter’s animals.
97 Sporn, Kulte Kretas pp. 201–2 describes the temple remains. But the conjectures that
she favours about Leto and Isis as equivalent names are unwarranted. So too, despite its
distinguished pedigree, is the Orphic interpretation of this poem (Orph. fr. 32 b iv Kern /
568 Bernabé)—the veiled language that rebukes self-castration is given an eschatological
meaning it cannot bear. See further Robertson, Religion and Reconciliation p. 325 n. 17.
98 For ritual purity as the object of self-castration, the careful argument of Nock,
“Eunuchs”, has yet to be refuted.
99 Preserved only by late sources, the story is often dismissed out of hand. Nilsson,
Geschichte I, p. 725, rightly upholds its significance.
100 = TAM V 3, 1539. For general comment see Barton and Horsley, “A Hellenistic Cult
Group”, also Renberg, ‘Commanded by the Gods’ pp. 284–85, 505–6.
222 noel robertson

that forbid absolutely any kind of sexual activity outside of marriage, a

strictness quite unparalleled. Zeus and the emblematic deities are to play
their part in upholding the rules through reward and punishment. Towards
the very end (where the inscription is broken off, as so often), it is said
that the rules are placed for safe-keeping “beside Agdistis [the holiest]
guardian and mistress of this shrine”, presumably represented by a statue
or a painting, “so that she too may show her kind intention” in upholding
them.101 Novel as they are, the rules accord with Meter’s ancient custom-
ary disposition.

8. ‘Great Goddesses’

From Meter we pass to ‘the Great Goddesses’ of Arcadia. That ancient

landscape idealized by literature honours a pair of deities so called, one
of them Despoina ‘Mistress’—both ‘Mistress’ and ‘Great Goddesses’ are
descriptive terms concealing names too holy to be spoken. They are
powers of nature much closer to pasturing than farming, though other
Greeks sometimes equated them willy nilly with Demeter and Kore.102 At
Lycosura the worship of Despoina was so distinctive that in 369 bc it saved
the local community from being swept up into amalgamated Megalopolis.
After 369, the cult at Lycosura flourished more than ever, and its festival
of early summer became another set of ‘Mysteries’, admitting only those
who submitted to a curious procedure.103 Excavation has recovered inter
alia sculptured scenes of worshippers masquerading as animals.104 Two
rules inscribed at different times in the second century bc are concerned
respectively with the purity of appearances and the purity of one’s per-
son. The earlier and longer one deals with clothes and coiffure before

101 [τὴν ἁγιωτάτην] is O. Weinreich’s supplement, generally accepted. [τὴν ἁγνοτάτην]

is equally possible.
102 The distinctive Arcadian cults have been variously misunderstood. Nilsson,
Geschichte I, pp. 477–81, sets them to rights; see also Jost, Sanctuaires pp. 297–355, and
“Mystery Cults” pp. 155–64. Art and myth alike show the Great Goddesses holding sway
over animals and plants and the whole of nature, so that Nilsson thinks of them as deities
of fertility, an old-fashioned category. As a practical matter they are patrons of a pastoral
regime.
103 The festival time is indicated by seasonal items singled out in the longer set of rules:
flowers are banned, but offerings may include barley ears cleared of darnel and white pop-
pies (LSCG 68, lines 11, 15–16).
104 Jost, Sanctuaires pls. 44–45, and “Mystery Cults” figs. 6.1, 6.4–8; Kaltsas, Sculpture
nos. 584–91. The sculpture is attributed by Pausanias to Damophon of Messene, now
increasingly known from excavations at that city.
 the concept of purity in greek sacred laws 223

turning to other matters of surpassing interest, ‘initiation’ and sacrifice

(LSCG 68). The later and shorter one appears to deal with death and birth
and intercourse, but is so fragmentary that no coherent sense emerges,
except that two “tens” and a “five” bear witness to protracted intervals of
waiting (GSL 8).
The longer inscription is full of ritual details, among them the follow-
ing. “Black” as well as fancy clothes are banned, and “white” poppies are
included among the preliminary offerings, and “white” animals are pre-
scribed for sacrifice.105 Now another sanctuary not far away, at Phigaleia,
belongs to “Black” Demeter, and legend tells how the goddess herself put
on “black” clothes and hid herself in anger, because Poseidon had roughly
taken her so as to beget a daughter, who is Despoina.106 We see why the
longer rules at Lycosura exclude pregnant and nursing women from so
called initiation (lines 12–13). The pastoral occasion signalized by these
cults and stories is putting the rams to the ewes; the rites of Phigaleia and
Lycosura are equivalent to the Roman Parilia of 21 April.107

9. Pan

Pan’s case is different from the rest. Let us note that the pastoral regime
invested with stringent rules of purity is that of oxherds and shepherds
and swineherds. These animals are essential and cherished; their keep-
ing evokes the fondest images of a simple life. Goats and goatherds
are a different matter. The animals are unruly and destructive; goat-
herds are generally disliked.108 In Christian belief goats represent the

105 In lines 13–14, the term for the preliminary offerings is read by Voutiras, “Opfer”, as
ποσθύ[µα]/σιν, i.e. προθύµασιν, an improvement on the nonce word read before. Yet the
following items may still serve for aromatic censing, as argued by Ziehen on LSG 63.
106 “Black Demeter”: Paus. VIII 42.1–7. Other Arcadian cult legends turn on the same fig-
ure of a ravished goddess called either “Demeter” or “Rhea”, literary names for the elder of
the two “Great Goddesses”. At Mantineia “Rhea” gives birth to Poseidon and sets him down
among spring lambs browsing at a spring called “Lamb” (Paus. VIII 8.1–2), another seasonal
indication. Poseidon’s role, whether as consort or as offspring, is true to his original nature;
he was the prepotent weather god until the sky god Zeus displaced him.
107 Putting rams to ewes at the Parilia: Ov. Fast. IV 771–72, Col. VII 3.11; cf. Latte, Röm.
Rel. 87. Parilia < pario means “rites of giving birth”, fancifully taken as the birthday of
Rome. The etymology < Pales defies both sense and phonetics, as Bömer, Ovid II 271–72,
demonstrates at length.
108 The damage done by goats to cultivated land, especially vines, is notorious; it was a
fanciful reason for sacrificing goats to Dionysus. By poetic convention goatherds are either
defeated by shepherds in singing matches or unsuccessful in their serenades: Theocr. Id. 1,
3, 5, 7. Or else the field of honour is left entirely to shepherds and oxherds: Id. 8, 9, 20, 27.
224 noel robertson

Devil.109 Anciently, they belong to Pan, who is indeed revered as any god
must be, but is always to be found by himself, except for frisking with
the Nymphs. In 61 bc the cave of Pan and the Nymphs near Marathon
received a dedication by three ephebes, members of Athens’ youth corps.110
It consists entirely of an ostentatious rule of purity: “the god forbids one to
bring in a patterned or a dyed or a [bordered?] garment” (GSL 4).111 Why
this? Fancy clothes are indeed prohibited in a wide range of cults, most
of all in cults favoured by women, such as Demeter’s, and in the context
of processions and public gatherings. But here, in a cave, the prohibition
seems as unnecessary as it is unexpected. Furthermore, this style of procla-
mation—“the god forbids”—is unique and arresting. Now caves of Pan are
notorious, even beyond other caves, for illicit assignations.112 The ephebes
jokingly envisage a temptress like Horace’s Pyrrha (Carm. I 5, c. 23 bc).

10. Demeter

Cults of both Demeter and Dionysus differ from all others in the role they
typically assign to a gathering of women, the womenfolk of the commu-
nity, as magic operators of the female fertility of nature that is allied to
their own. Women who gather in seclusion at Demeter’s autumn festival,
and women who resort to the hills at Dionysus’ winter festival, are more
aloof from men than women at any other time. Yet the rules posted at
sanctuaries of Demeter or Dionysus say nothing about intercourse; instead
there is much about clothes. The reason is simple. As long as women are
at home with their husbands, they are not at liberty in the matter of inter-
course. It is only after a festival has begun that measures can be taken to

109 The belief is strongly held by modern Greek shepherds of the transhumant kind:
Campbell, Honour pp. 26, 31, 347. To the extent possible, goats nowadays are cared for
by women and not by men, because of the shameless sexual abandon which goats and
women are deemed to share. Pan likewise is never found in any company but that of
amorous Nymphs.
110 The ephebes go to Marathon chiefly to pay tribute at the great tumulus of the fallen.
But Pan is renowned for vouchsafing help in the battle, and his cult in Attica, as at the
nearby cave, dates from that time; so he deserves a visit too. Or is Pan associated in Athe-
nian belief with the adolescent sexuality of ephebes? Remarkably, this was argued on quite
other grounds by Borgeaud, Cult of Pan pp. 153–56, but dismissed as fanciful by Parker in
his review. The new inscription, however, is open to just this interpretation.
111 Since χρωµάτινον and βαπτόν as the first two items are necessarily distinct, the former
cannot be simply ‘coloured’, which is the same as ‘dyed’; it takes the place of ποικίλος, often
used of fancy clothing, i.e. inwoven with coloured designs.
112 Parker, Miasma p. 76 n. 8 gives references.
 the concept of purity in greek sacred laws 225

enhance this kind of purity.113 Sanctuaries of Demeter are sometimes in

the countryside, sometimes in the city. Those in the city are often situated
or constructed so as to assure the seclusion of women during a festival
span of several days.114
At sanctuaries of Demeter the rules are much concerned with clothes.115
Also with jewelry, cosmetics, perfume. All of these conduce to sexual
attraction, which is unwanted, either at the sowing festival when women
are alone, or at the harvest festival when they parade through the streets
with a basket of newly winnowed grain (and other folk are told to stay
indoors and keep the windows shut). In the earliest such inscription, at a
sanctuary of Demeter thesmophoros in northern Arcadia, clothing is the
only subject (LSS 32, late VI / early V bc).116 “If a woman wears an ornate
robe, it shall be dedicated” to the goddess; severe penalties are prescribed
if the woman fails to do so or if the civic magistrate does not enforce the
rule. At Patrae in Achaea, the following are prohibited during the festival
Damatria “Demeter’s rites”—“no gold of more than an obol’s weight, no
robe ornate or purple-dyed, no antimony, no piping on reeds” (LSS 33,
III bc). The last item, µηδὲ αὐλῆν, is most unusual, and significant for our
purpose: the wailing of a reed pipe was always thought seductive.117 For
any of these offences the penalty is to purify the sanctuary, an extraordi-
nary task.118
Cius in Bithynia gives us a rule for Demeter’s cult conveyed in hexam-
eter verse—probably an oracle of Claros, with Apollo displaying a like

113 Fehrle, Keuschheit pp. 103–6, 121–22, 137–55 compiles the varied means of enhancing
purity at festivals of Demeter. Where the efficacy of herbs and the like is in question, it can
be argued that the intention or the result was otherwise, but the general purport is plain.
As for Dionysus, the mood and manner of his winter festival are known only from distant
and sometimes hostile report, but it is reasonable to suppose that purity was emphasized:
so Fehrle, Keuschheit pp. 114–16.
114 Cole, “Demeter”, discusses the siting of Demeter sanctuaries at length and in the
light of much archaeological evidence.
115 Accordingly, when women need to be informed of attire suitable for mourning,
these rules too are posted at a shrine of Demeter, also at one of Artemis (LSAM 16 lines
30–33, Gambreium, III bc).
116 The festival Thesmophoria, says Herodotus (II 171.2–3), is an ancient custom of the
Peloponnesus, hence distinctive of the Arcadians as aboriginal inhabitants. Jost, Sanc-
tuaires pp. 325–26, notes that our rule agrees with this otherwise surprising assertion.
117 It is abhorrent to virginal Athena, and it typifies predatory Pan; for Plato it is a most
pernicious influence.
118 Since all the women of the community lodge here for several days, a Thesmophorion
is more extensive than any other kind of sanctuary—at Athens and Peiraeus we have con-
crete details to this effect. To purify a place is to sprinkle the blood of piglets everywhere.
226 noel robertson

concern for purity (LSAM 6, perhaps I bc).119 In the surviving lines, women
parading in the kalathos (basket) procession of Demeter’s harvest festi-
val are told to “go unshod and in clean clothes, and leave things of gold
at home”. Why, in this injunction to simplicity, is gold singled out? Now
the kalathos procession is otherwise familiar from Callimachus’ Hymn to
Demeter—where the baskets themselves are said to be “full of gold” and
representative of “gold unstinted” in the coming year.120 “Gold” also signi-
fies the harvest of grain; “golden” is also an epithet of Demeter herself.121
This is why, among all the various items of women’s adornment, gold in
particular is forbidden.122 It is a barren artificial thing that mocks the gold
of nature.
The first part of the inscription of Cius is broken off. It concerned a
point of ritual distinct from the kalathos procession, namely the “carving”
of meat from sacrificial victims, and presumably the slaughtering as prior
to the carving. Though it is a festival of women, a “man” is to do the carv-
ing. The line is incomplete; it must have added some essential qualifica-
tion—men as hired help would be required in any case for slaughtering
and butchering, even at a festival of women. A qualification that exactly
fits the lacuna is the same as at the festival of Zeus polieus on Cos:
[ταῖς δ’ ἱ]λασσοµέν[αις δ’ ἁγνὸς] δαιτρ⟨ε⟩υέτω ἀνήρ
For the women supplicating, let the man be pure who carves the meat.
It is likely enough that the preceding lines, entirely lost, forbade inter-
course to any such servitor during the night before, as on Cos. If so, the
oracle restores a neglected custom of old. At this late period, archaic ritual
inadvertently neglected is rather often proposed as the remedy for misfor-
tune; it is a recurring theme of oracles at both Claros and Didyma, as also
of the Sibylline Books at Rome.

119 = IKios 16. For text and interpretation see now Rigsby, "Notes on Sacred Laws" pp.
79–80.
120 Since the goddes in question is not named in the surviving lines, commentators
entertain as well some Anatolian deity equated with Demeter. This is hypercritical, given
Callimachus’ similar language evoking Demeter, given too the appearance of Demeter
karpophoros, i.e. Demeter at harvest time, in a late inscription of Cius (cf. Ehrhardt, Milet
2.466 n. 809). Though the city was brutally sacked by Philip V in 200 bc, old customs were
undoubtedly restored thereafter.
121 Robertson, Religion and Reconciliation p. 204, discusses such evocative language.
122 So at Patrae, just mentioned; also in the pastoral cults of Andania and Lycosura.
Besides inscriptions, Wächter, Reinheitsvorschriften pp. 117–18, cites literary sources forbid-
ding women to wear gold while engaged in “the begetting of children” (which becomes a
secondary concern of Demeter as grain goddess).
 the concept of purity in greek sacred laws 227

11. Dionysos

In the case of Dionysus, sacred laws inscribed on stone are almost lacking.
Similarly, public sanctuaries of Dionysus are seldom found.123 The rea-
sons are readily apparent. Dionysus’ winter festival takes place not at any
shrine but at or near the hillside vineyards which are object of the magic
ritual. His spring festival, when a community opens its store of new wine,
is known for a boisterous display of cheer far from thoughts of purity.
On the latter occasion, sexual license is evidence of Dionysus’ power; it
is embodied in the ritual masquing of his companion satyrs. At Athens
however two famous old shrines known by the epithets epi lênaiôn ‘at the
wine-presses’ and en limnais ‘at the pools’ are associated with the festivals
of winter and of spring respectively.124 As to the former, wine-presses are
a rustic implement belonging to the vintage, another occasion altogether;
they are transposed to the city only as an emblem. Athens city at an early
stage undertook to represent the extensive state of Attica; the two shrines
were meant to focus ritual dispersed through many country districts.
Of all Greek gods Dionysus is the most lastingly popular, featured in
both revivals and transformations of old religion. At Magnesia on the
Maeander, a long inscription recording a late revival of his winter festival
gives prominence to the ἁγνός quality required just then of a male priest
who accompanies the female celebrants (IvMagn 215, I ad). The occasion
is well known. With great excitement all the women of a given commu-
nity go out to the vineyards so as to rouse the male potency of the ravaged
vines.125 They are projected in myth as ‘Nymphs’ or ‘Maenads’, and the
potency of the vines is projected as the infant Dionysus, born from the
winter rain in the myth of Semele’s affair with Zeus. The womenfolk are for
once far away from men, and free to indulge the impulses of a woman’s
nature—except that a male ‘priest’, young and innocent, is deputed to

123 The excavated sanctuary at Athens is merely an adjunct of the ‘theatre of Dionysus’
below the Acropolis, at the east end of the south slope; it is no earlier than the late 6th
century.
124 Remarkably, neither shrine has been located, after a century and a half of search-
ing the most trodden ground in the world. The present state of opinion is not even vexed
conjecture, but bafflement and silence. It would be logical, however, to suppose that these
shrines as well, both of them, were situated on the Acropolis south slope, but west of the
theatre shrine which effectively replaced them. ‘The pools’ that once supplied fresh water
for mixing the wine at the new-wine festival are well explained as run-off from the Acropo-
lis south spring, a resource that soon proved insufficient. Why else was this prime land
available later for the construction of the Stoa of Eumenes and the Odeium of Herodes
Atticus? The latter perpetuates Dionysus’ theatrical tradition.
125 Robertson, “Orphic Mysteries” pp. 223–24, 229–32, treats the winter festival.
228 noel robertson

keep them company. As a youth he imparts the element of male purity

that otherwise requires a term of abstinence or separation from women, as
in our sanctuary rules. Euripides in the Bacchae famously depicts a mythi-
cal occasion corresponding to the winter festival. For dramatic purposes,
the women’s wild behaviour gives rise to invidious suspicion; so indeed
does the presence of a youthful male priest, denounced as a charlatan.126
In the middle Hellenistic period, Magnesia undertook to create a new
or enlarged version of the winter festival (it is not clear which) and in the
usual fashion obtained a response from the Delphic oracle authorizing the
arrangements. The inscription that records the occasion is a century or so
later. Most of the Delphic oracle is about organizing women into three
thiasoi that will represent the whole extent of Magnesian territory—in
the Bacchae, the women are led by three royal daughters with a corre-
sponding range. But the very first item, which does not require any further
rigmarole, is ἱερῆα τίθει / δὲ εὐάρτιον ἁγνόν “appoint a priest graceful, pure”
(lines 23–24). It is a male officiant whose role can only be to accompany
all the women subsequently mentioned. The unusual word εὐάρτιον is apt
for adolescent slimness; in the Bacchae, the priest is mocked for his dain-
tiness. Dionysus himself is sometimes so conceived and depicted in art:
the god has a life cycle as infant, boy, adolescent, and imperious bearded
man, which corresponds to the growth cycle of budding vine, of grape as
first formed and then mature, and of potent new wine.
Still later, in the second century ad, we find a sacred law that is one of
the most unusual of the genre (LSAM 84).127 It was posted somewhere in
Smyrna, a city prosperous and splendid, flourishing in a favoured prov-
ince of the Roman empire. Composed entirely in hexameter verse, the
inscription gives elaborate rules of purity for the worship of Dionysus
Bromios ‘Loud-resounding’ (like his jubilant worshippers). The author or
the sponsor—his own name is lost, but he is “son of Menander”—is a
“theophant”, and the rules apply to the god’s “precinct and shrines”. Now
this is generally taken to be a private cult, but the priestly title and the
ample premises are against it. Even more so are the realities of contem-
porary Smyrna. The principal civic shrine was in fact that of Dionysus

126 Since the priest is central to the occasion, it is remarkable that his existence has
lately been denied: so Henrichs, “Male Celebrant”, followed by others since. Before this,
the priest was regularly postulated on the analogy of Euripides’ play. Neither side refers
to the priest at Magnesia.
127 = ISmyrna 728. The extensive bibliography is fully canvassed by Bernabé, PEG II 2
no. 582.
 the concept of purity in greek sacred laws 229

Briseus ‘Heavy-laden’ (as a vine is with ripe grapes).128 It was managed by

an “Association of Artists and Initiates” who cultivated relations with the
Roman emperor and advanced the interests of the city in every way they
could.129 “Associations of Artists” devoted to Dionysus appear at many cit-
ies, but the one at Smyrna embraces “Initiates” (Mystai) as well—agreeing
with the rare title “theophant” of our inscription and with the recondite,
either Orphic or Pythagorean, nature of the rules. Admittedly there is a
difference. Whereas Dionysus’ epithet is Bromios in our inscription, it is
Brisios in the Artists’ dossier. Epithets however are freely bestowed, most
of all in cults of Dionysus.
Abortion, miscarriage, death in the household, death outside it respec-
tively require waiting intervals of 40, 40, 10 and 3 days, about as strict
as could be. In a different vein, black garments are forbidden, and the
eating of meat that is not from proper sacrifices, or of eggs, heart, mint,
beans. The dietary prohibitions in their strictness or their oddity are typi-
cal of both Orphics and Pythagoreans; over the course of centuries both
sects drew on a teeming background of popular superstition. But since
Pythagorean doctrine was often fancied by the governing Romans—it was
associated with conservative political sentiments, as Orphism was not—it
seems likely to be in question here.

12. Asclepius and Purity of Mind

With Asclepius we come to purity of mind, a moral virtue. Purity of mind

does not appear among sanctuary rules until the 4th century, and not so
often thereafter, and still without excluding the familiar physical require-
ments. It is not that the Greeks were backward or constrained in ascrib-
ing moral sanctions to the gods. They are proclaimed by epic poetry, and
adjudicated by the Delphic oracle, and exemplified and argued in tragedy.
As a matter of everyday life, city squares were adorned with sanctuar-
ies and statues of deities both old and new who represented justice and
concord and good faith. Yet the pastoral and agrarian and other cults
surveyed above are focussed elsewhere, and the purity they demand, the

128 In first publishing the inscription J. Keil thought of Dionysus Briseus, but no one
since has taken up the suggestion.
129 Hirschmann, “Macht durch Integration?”, further argues that they cultivated rela-
tions with the considerable community of early Christians.
230 noel robertson

purity proper to ἁγνός, is non-moral. Morality could not be introduced

without a certain awkwardness.
It will be helpful to compare the Eleusinian Mysteries. The Mysteries
began as a festival of the sowing in which the secret ritual, a magic mim-
icry of human reproductive process, served to augur a new crop of grain;
then the ritual was taken to promise a thriving afterlife as well, the human
worshippers being assimilated to the grain more wishfully than ever.130
Even so they were still ἁγνός in the same physical sense as Demeter and
the grain. This became moral purity only by a shift of meaning that is well
exemplified in a famous passage of Aristophanes. The Eleusinian proces-
sioners in the Frogs are complimented with the terms ἁγνός (lines 334,
385) and ὅσιος (lines 327, 335), and as a hallmark of physical purity are
costumed in clothes and shoes that are downright shabby (lines 404–12).
It is the outlook of our inscriptions. But when announcement is made of
persons unworthy to join the procession, and we are treated to a comic
catalogue of sneaks and shirkers, the archetypal offender that gives colour
to the rest is ὅστις . . . γνώµην µὴ καθαρεύει “whoever is not pure in thought”
(line 355). Morality has been smuggled in for a comic purpose.
Aristophanes’ phrase in anapaestic rhythm might conceivably be
adapted from a verse epigram at Athens’ Eleusinion. For when morality
appears at last in our rules of purity, it is expressed by verse epigrams.
The earliest such rule we hear of is probably the elegiac couplet inscribed
at the door of Asclepius’ temple at Epidaurus, constructed in the early
4th century.131 ἁγνὸν χρή ναοῖο θυωδέος ἐντὸς ἰόντα / ἔµµεναι· ἁγνεία δ’ εστὶ
φρονεῖν ὅσια “One must be pure to enter the sweet-scented temple: purity
is righteous thought.” Since the couplet is transmitted only by late authors
(Clem. Strom. V 1.13.3, Porph. Abst. II 19.5), we cannot be quite sure that
it was inscribed when the building was new.132 But it was natural at the
time to inscribe a verse epigram. From the 6th century onwards tombs
and herms were adorned with maxims in verse for the benefit of passers-
by. One such is famous, a moral rule like ours: στεῖχε δίκαια φρονῶν “go

130 The most literal expression of this belief is Paul’s denial of it (I Cor. 15.36–38).
131 The temple is closely dated by the sculptural style of surviving fragments of the east
pediment. Riethmüller, Asklepios I, pp. 308–10, weighs expert opinion and fixes on the
decade 390–380 bc.
132 On the usual view, Porphyry takes the couplet from Theophrastus On Piety (= fr. 9
Pötscher), like some other material hereabouts; but the inference is disputed by Brem-
mer, “How Old is the Ideal”. However this may be, it is unlikely in the extreme that either
the couplet or its place on the temple is as late as the early Empire, the date proposed
instead.
 the concept of purity in greek sacred laws 231

your way with righteous thought” ([Pl.] Hipparch. 229a, cf. CEG I no. 304,
c. 520–514 bc). The Epidaurus couplet belongs to this elegiac tradition, as
we may call it. The tradition itself makes use of age-old hexameter for-
mulas, and “sweet-scented temple” is one of them, familiar from Homeric
Hymns (Dem. 355, Aphr. 58). The couplet at Epidaurus was a new depar-
ture that sounded just like old custom.
Some later instances are plainly inspired by Epidaurus. ἁγνὸν πρὸς
τέµενος στείχειν / ὅσια φρονέοντα “go pure into the precinct, thinking law-
ful thoughts” is a hexameter verse at Mytilene for a deity unmentioned
(LSS 82, no reported date)—but Mytilene had a notable cult of Asclepius.133
A verse oracle found lately at Oenoanda calls for sacrifice to Asclepius
γνώµαι καθαρᾶι “with a pure heart” (SEG L 1352 bis, I bc). A rule at Rhodes
city which comes to us without a name first calls for abstinence from inter-
course, beans, and heart (the edible organ), and then gives the Epidaurian
couplet but varies it at the end—οὐ λουτροι ἀλλὰ νόωι καθαρόν “and not
with a bath, but clean in mind” (LSS 108, I ad). Since food interdictions
are mostly non-Greek, and since the words quoted are elsewhere linked
with Sarapis (Clem. Strom. IV 22.142.3), there can be little doubt who is in
question here. The Egyptian god is a kindly healer just like Asclepius; he
has plagiarized Asclepius.
Astypalaea in the Sporades gives us a most unusual rule of conscience.
“No one shall enter the sanctuary who is not pure. ἢ τελεῖ ἢ αὐτῶι ἐν νῶι
ἐσσεῖται Either he shall see to it or it shall be on his mind” (LSCG 130, III
bc). Both syntax and purport of these Greek words were much debated
until editors settled on the meaning “Either he shall pay a fine or it shall be
on his mind”.134 Now would any rule prescribe a fine and not the amount?
Instead, τελεῖ has its basic sense of ‘fulfil, accomplish’, but is used abso-
lutely, ‘see to it’. It may be that purity requirements are exhibited nearby,
or that they are generally known: but a more likely explanation lies at
hand. Though editors have left it open what cult this may be, doubt is
scarcely possible. Asclepius had a flourishing practice at Astypalaea, as we
know both from local inscriptions and from others of Epidaurus that treat

133 See Reithmüller, Asklepios II, pp. 360–61.

134 First proposed by Wilamowitz, this meaning was firmly rejected by Ziehen on LSG
123; it has nonetheless prevailed. Ziehen also rejected three hypothetical alternatives, quite
rightly. 1) “or [who is not] τέλει[ος] of sound body”. But the inscription is by a careful hand,
excluding any gross omission of letters. 2) “or [who does not] belong”, scil. to the cult
membership, with τελεῖ as present instead of future. 3) “or it will be for the magistrate or
on one’s mind”, with τέλει dative.
232 noel robertson

the town as a colony (IG IV 12 47–48, 615).135 The couplet on the temple
door of Epidaurus was famous; it must have been taken as gospel by cults
elsewhere. So it was at Astypalaea, where a warning is now added about
the burden of a guilty conscience.136
Apart from Asclepius, purity of mind is seldom mentioned, but always
in verse. The epigram exalting Meter’s cult at Phaestus runs to six verses,
five hexameters and a pentameter, and takes the form of a hymn (ICr I
xxiii 3). Its stern and exalted tone, together with some misunderstanding
of the sense, has caused it to be labelled Orphic (above n. 97). There is in
fact no explicit rule, and nothing moral except the tone.
An epigram of late date and distant provenance is remarkable for jejune
elaboration. It too is inscribed beside a temple door, at the well preserved
Hadrianic temple of Zeus lepsynos at Euromus in Caria (SEG XLIII 710,
XLVIII 1329). Three couplets vary the same thought. “If you have a pure
(καθαράν) heart and have practiced righteousness (δίκαιον) in your soul”,
enter. “If you venture on injustice (ἀδίκων) and your mind is not pure
(οὐ καθαρεύει)”, go away. “The temple abhors rascals, but fitly rewards the
faithful (ὁσίοις)”. This text has been thought to register a decisive advance
in associating justice (δίκαιον, ἀδίκων) with moral purity.137 But justice
is commended by early epigrams, and its inclusion here seems almost
haphazard.

13. The Cleansing of Offenders

Whereas a person keeping pure for worship is ἁγνός, a person purified of

wrong-doing is καθαρός. A small class of inscriptions constitute a tradi-
tion separate from the purity rules of cult, and at variance with them.
The καθαρός vocabulary is now used exclusively; only once, in the latest
inscription of all, is ἁγνός synonymous.
According to a usual belief of early days, to kill or injure a member
of the community is polluting. If the killer or assailant remains in the
community—and this is altogether likely in the case of one more val-
ued than the victim—he must be somehow purified to avert any further
difficulty. Greek literature seldom notices the custom, but only because

135 See Riethmüller, Asklepios II, pp. 346–47. As to the connexion with Epidaurus,
cf. IG XII 3 p. 30.
136 The equivalent terms ἐνθύµιον and ἐνθυµιστόν are invoked against those who disre-
gard other sacred laws, as cited by Parker, Miasma p. 253 n. 105.
137 So Chaniotis, “Reinheit” pp. 156, 158, 163, 164 (while dating the inscription much
earlier, to the 2nd century bc).
 the concept of purity in greek sacred laws 233

it is taken for granted. In well-ordered communities public documents

once gave detail, but rarely survive. At Athens alone we have a document
preserved by a literary source, The Traditions of the Eupatridae excerpted
by Athenaeus (IX 78, 409f-410b). Five epigraphic instances are considered
below; they extend in time from the 6th century to the mid Hellenistic
period, and represent old custom both of the homeland (Cleonae, Tegea)
and of far-flung settlements (Lato, Thasos, Cyrene). They show that Greek
cities commonly preserved the old means of purifying a wrong-doer even
when it was wholly superseded by legal process.
Legal process does not always satisfy natural feeling. At Athens there
is a strange story that serves to combine or reconcile purification and
legal process. The story tells how the city came to celebrate the festival
Buphonia ‘Ox-slaying’. This agrarian festival involves the demonstrative
slaying of a plough-ox, much like the festival of Cos noticed above; it is not
really a purification rite of any kind, but rather the ultimate thank-offering
for the harvest. At a time when the true meaning was long forgotten, it
was fancifully said that the Buphonia ritual began when the responsibility
for the ox-slaying was traced back by legal argument through the whole
chain of officiants to the knife or axe that struck the blow—which was
then thrown into the sea as a virtual purification.138
So the purifying custom persisted beside legal process, and of course
without reference to the purity rules of cult. We shall return to the long
inscription from Apollo’s sanctuary at Cyrene only because of its con-
cluding and indeed culminating section, the procedure for purifying an
offender in the great sanctuary. Otherwise these inscriptions derive from
monumental structures at some place of vantage in each city, no doubt
the agora in most cases. Sadly shattered as they are, they can all be recog-
nized as public documents of the first importance. I take them in chrono-
logical order.
A rule at Cleonae in the Argolid, of the early 6th century, is inscribed
“with the greatest care and skill” in vertical lines, bustrophedon, on three
faces of a stele (LSCG 56).139 It was once conspicuous in some public place.

138 Theophr. De Piet. fr. 7 Pötscher = Porph. De Abst. II 12–15; Ael. Var. Hist. VIII 3; Paus.
I 24.4, 28.10. Another explanation of the rite pays tribute to the purification custom by say-
ing that an Athenian farmer who killed an ox in a fit of temper fled at first to the archaic
land of Crete to order to be purified (Theophr. De Piet. fr. 18 = Porph. De Abst. II 29–31).
139 It is curiously like the enigmatic stele sealed beneath the Lapis Niger of the Forum
Romanum (ILLRP 3), which is of similar date. Both came to light about the same time, and
the resemblance was noted, together with a careful description of our stone, by its finder
S. O. Dickerman.
234 noel robertson

As plausibly restored it speaks of a “polluted” person and his “purifica-

tion” by two distinct procedures well known from literature, τὀλατήριον
ἀπόβαµα “the expelling ablution” and ἱλασµόν “propitiation”, i.e. both
a physical washing and a verbal deprecation of divine anger. Why are
the procedures so prominently advertised? In early days Cleonae was in
charge of the Nemean Games nearby, and lay on a route leading also to
the Isthmian Games. Interstate events like these drew persons from far
and wide—who might include bitter enemies. A purification ceremony,
together with a more pragmatic compounding of differences, would rec-
oncile them sufficiently for the purpose at hand. As it happens, there was
a tomb at Cleonae commemorating two legendary heroes who had fought
against Heracles during the war in Elis—and who afterwards took to the
road to attend the Isthmian Games, but fell victim to Heracles’ bow just
here (Paus. II 15.1). Heracles himself was famously in need of purification
after his many killings, and he visited certain places, Athens for example,
in order to receive it. His Athenian visit explains the origin of the Lesser
Mysteries in Agrae. It is likely that the killing at Cleonae follows the pat-
tern and provides an archetype for the local purification ceremony.
Only the merest fragments survive of an important document of the
mid 5th century that was once inscribed on the wall of a public building in
the agora of Thasos (LSS 65).140 It calls for a drastic purification with the
following details: “washing” [clothes], “customary right (θέµις)”, “banquet-
ing”, “pouring libation to Zeus katharsios”, “of the land or of the house”,
“bringing round and pouring out sulphur”, “[kindling?] the fire”, “[bathing]
from the head down”. First the person is purified by a washing and a cer-
emony addressed to Zeus katharsios (banquet and libation presuppose a
sacrifice); this much is like the purification at Cyrene examined below, to
be performed at the great sanctuary of Apollo. Either Zeus or Apollo is the
deity usually concerned; Delphi is famous for representing their combined
authority. The other phrases describe a purification elsewhere, evidently
of property and persons at the scene of the crime. Sulphur and fire remind
us of Odysseus’ purification of the hall and the court where the suitors and
others were slaughtered (Od. XXII 481–82, 493–94). Given its location on a
wall in the agora, the document is more likely to be a standard procedure,
the responsibility of certain magistrates dealing with certain cases, than a
momentary response to some event that has embroiled the community.

140 Pouilloux, Recherches pp. 82–85, 87–92, 99–100 (but it is fanciful to ascribe this
document to the cult of Theogenes).
 the concept of purity in greek sacred laws 235

Tegea in southern Arcadia has left us an inscription of the 4th century

that was likewise very prominent, being inscribed across two adjoining
orthostate blocks of some public building (LSS 31). It refers to the cult of
“Apollo” and to “priests and cult recorders” (hiaromnamones) and also,
unexpectedly, to “dancers” (orchêstai)—who are best explained as per-
taining to the festival time in spring when Apollo was honoured with song
and dance. At the beginning are clear directives to “go out from the shrine,
and purify the shrine, and on the next day ἱλάσκεσθαι propitiate with a
cake”, and two lines later the fragmentary word ]χοαι, which may point
to Hesychius’ dialect gloss ἐπιχοά· κατάχυσις, i.e. a ritual “pouring over”
[someone or something]. We have the same combination of things, of
physical cleansing and of addressing prayers, as at Cleonae. Thereafter the
phrase “[a person] is καθαρός pure” is repeated at least four times, and we
hear of someone “τεθναότος dead.” It is once more a purification rite for
homicide, and possibly other offences. Yet the details of cult strongly sug-
gest that this individual remedy is to be combined with Apollo’s festival
of April or May. That festival is generally known for rites of purification
such as the expulsion of a scapegoat—of which Tegea supplies a leading
instance.141 This is the time, just before the harvest, when the community
prepares itself by every means to receive the new crop. Individual need
reinforces the community interest while adding further expenditure and
spectacle.
At Cyrene in Libya the long inscription already cited twice for rules of
purity—in respect of Apollo and of Artemis—also gives details of a puri-
fying ceremony to be undertaken at need by a suppliant (LSS 115 B 50–59).
Like other parts of the inscription, it has been variously understood. This
document has a very broad range. The professed subject is καθαρµοί and
ἁγνῆιαι, traditional purifications as it were, now authorized by Delphi
(the organization of Dionysus’ worship at Magnesia was similarly autho-
rized). In the cult of Apollo we are told what intervals are needed after
intercourse, childbirth, and miscarriage; in that of Artemis ritual is pre-
scribed at length for a new bride and expectant mother. Other rules are

141 Pausanias in his full account of Tegea describes the festival of Apollo agyieus and
its legendary origin in a visit by Apollo and Artemis to complain that Tegea refused to
harbour Leto at the time of their birth—actually a compliment, if Tegea was Leto’s first
choice—which led to a killing and a pursuit that is unmistakably a scapegoat rite (VIII
53.1–3). Given both the birth story and the rite, the festival in question cannot be other
than Apollo’s premier festival of spring. The month Agyiêos named for the festival falls
sometime in spring, though it is not exactly placed in any city calendar: cf. Trümpy,
Monatsnamen, index s.v.
236 noel robertson

specially devised for contemporary needs, notably the right of access to

shrines customarily forbidden of gods called Tritopateres. Whether old or
new, all the aforementioned rules might be called ἁγνῆιαι. Three proce-
dures at the last are plainly καθαρµοί—a trivial one for exorcising a house,
and a modest one that consists of putting questions to a local oracle, but
at the very end a public ceremony for absolving a suppliant, which entails
considerable expense. The suppliant first appeals to an “intercessor”.142
With the intercessor’s help, and in the presence of a body of silent wit-
nesses, he is seated on a fleece at the entrance to Apollo’s sanctuary and
washed and anointed; then he goes within and the others follow, and
he burns cakes in the altar fire (which recalls the rites of propitiation at
Cleonae and Tegea) and sacrifices an animal—this with his own hand, an
unusual effort. What wrong has he done, to be thus elaborately purified?
He is plainly not an abhorrent criminal, but someone able and willing to
bear considerable expense. And he follows his own conscience, like the
others who exorcise a house or put questions to the oracle. The inscrip-
tion caters to citizens of both larger and lesser means and is meant to suit
a variety of needs; the concluding ceremony is for someone at the top of
the scale.
At Lato in Crete we are informed of such offences as do not require
purification. An inscription of the 2nd century bc posted in the agora lists
exhaustively the cases of death and injury in which a person somehow
responsible shall not be charged with homicide or assault: fire, boiling
water, dog-bite, misadventure while lying in bed, it might be in rented
accommodation (LSS 112).143 A recurring phrase is µηθὲν ἐπικωλύεσθαι ἀλλὰ
καθαρὸν ἦµεν “he shall be in no way implicated but shall be pure.” Once it
is said [ἁγ]νὸς ἔστω “let him be pure,” an unexpected variation. The pur-
pose of all this is simply to preclude improper accusations and threats of
litigation: to be ‘pure’ is to be clear of blame. Crete was deeply conserva-
tive, almost unchanging, and pollution was still the avowed consequence
of many crimes and delicts.
We see then that a few καθαρός inscriptions attest the strange old prac-
tice of physically purifying offenders who otherwise threaten the well-

142 The role of intercessor is also attested a little later, sometime in the third century,
at another Dorian city traditionally kin to Cyrene, Lindus on Rhodes (SEG XXXIX 729). At
Athens the role was entrusted to hereditary experts, the Eupatridae.
143 Sokolowski prints only the longer frs. i–iv. For frs. v–xiv, see ICr I xvi 6—they are
very fragmentary, but show how wide the range is. Sporn, Kulte Kretas p. 63, mistakes the
purport of this inscription; it has been fully explained by Wilhelm, De Sanctis, and Latte
as cited by Sokolowski.
 the concept of purity in greek sacred laws 237

being of a community. The practice is at variance with Greek law and

social institutions, as it would be with ours today. It is another instance of
the extreme conservatism inherent in the Greek ‘epigraphic habit’.

14. Summary

Greek has two words meaning “pure”, καθαρός and ἁγνός, distinguishable
in early usage as “clean, pure” and “holy, pure”. The early usage is that of
epic and lyric poetry, traditional genres captured in the first Greek writ-
ing but reflecting a long period of illiteracy before, the Early Iron Age.
Thereafter, in Greek literature as we know it for a span of a thousand
years, the two words and their many derivative forms converge in mean-
ing, though καθαρός and its derivatives are always more commonly used.
Yet the early distinction continues elsewhere, in a gradually diminishing
degree. Inscriptions on stone, mostly beginning in the 6th century, some-
times perpetuate old usages otherwise unknown. Conspicuous among
them are ‘sacred laws’ that insist on ἁγνός purity. It is defined in two gen-
eral ways, as free from taint of intercourse or childbirth or death, or as
plainly dressed and without objects of artifice.
The gods associated with ἁγνός purity are not the entire pantheon of
Olympian deities who are worshipped in every Greek city, but only six of
them: the gods Zeus, Apollo, Dionysus, the goddesses Artemis, Athena,
Demeter. Also associated are the elder goddess Meter and the younger
god Asclepius (‘elder’ and ‘younger’ in a mythical sense, like ‘Olympian’).
The range of sanctuaries at which ἁγνός rules are posted is restricted
too, and more so. In the course of time, those six Olympians came to be
worshipped in each Greek city as the patrons of activities and qualities
co-extensive with civilized life. But the only sanctuaries hedged by rules
of ἁγνός purity are those concerned, or formerly concerned, with simple
country livelihoods, pasturing and agriculture, or with the weather and
the seasons on which these livelihoods depend. Asclepius as god of heal-
ing is outside this range, but he came to his healing vocation—which in
early days had been that of his father Apollo—in sanctuaries with a sim-
ple country setting. This background of simple pasturing and agriculture
returns us to the Early Iron Age, from which early poetry emerged with a
like regard for the ἁγνός quality.
It seems then a necessary inference that the ἁγνός kind of purity
imposed itself during the Early Iron Age. This period, especially the
early part, is known for harsh conditions; it probably began with a ruin-
ous climate change. Together with a complete disruption of settled and
238 noel robertson

organized life, such adversity must have brought a general distrust of old
customs and beliefs. People turned instead to a new pantheon of gods,
newly led by Zeus instead of Poseidon. The former sky god and the family
he now acquired were thought of as dwelling close at hand on a notional
mountain top called ‘Olympus’, just like the mountains appearing next to
every Greek community. These gods were entrusted with control of the
weather and with fostering the simple livelihoods on which everything
now depended. Monthly festivals were the means of concerting a com-
munity effort as needed; festival names were imprinted in a local calendar
specific to each new community. These calendars survive without change
to typify later Greek cities in a pattern deriving from the Early Iron Age;
they are a prime source of information. The chief calendar festivals are
those addressed to the same six members of the new pantheon: Zeus and
Athena, Apollo and Artemis, Demeter and Dionysus.
All save Apollo are inherited from Mycenaean times, but their functions,
as evident from the festival names, are new. Zeus and Athena are weather
gods, strikingly different from the typical weather gods of the Bronze Age,
and from Poseidon as the Mycenaean instance. These two are credited in
the calendars with bringing a dramatic but consistent change of weather
from autumn to winter. Artemis and Apollo appear in the calendars as fos-
tering activities of the whole fair weather season from mid-spring to mid-
autumn. This pattern of activities conforms to a style of life, transhumant
pasturing, which recurs in the Greek peninsula during times of difficulty;
it calls for a general movement between lowlands in winter and uplands
in summer. Artemis had always displayed her power in spring; the new
god Apollo was now added as her twin, so as to rule the summer months.
Demeter and Dionysus represent the staple crops of grain and wine, with
festivals marking the critical stages of growth and maturity. The myths of
both deities show them arriving on the scene all at once and enforcing
their worship with irresistible power. It is because these staple crops had
failed during the harsher weather at the outset of the Early Iron Age, but
recovered later when a concerted effort was made.
Such are the conditions of the Early Iron Age that called for ἁγνός
purity. When conditions changed and the Greeks emerged from adver-
sity and created the polis as a new background for civilization, ἁγνός lost
its distinctive meaning and converged with καθαρός. The Olympian gods
acquired a wide range of new concerns that superseded their narrow man-
date of the Early Iron Age. But in a few places, whether in the countryside
or amid a city setting, old cults continued, and with them the tradition of
insisting on ἁγνός purity.
 the concept of purity in greek sacred laws 239

Abbreviations

CAH2 Cambridge Ancient History. 2d ed. Cambridge: Cambridge

University Press, 1970–.
CEG Hansen, Peter Allan, ed. Carmina Epigraphica Graeca. 2 vols.
Berlin: de Gruyter, 1983–89.
DMic Auro Jorro, Francisco, ed. Diccionario Micénico: Griego-
Español. 2 vols. Madrid: Instituto de Filología, 1985–93.
Encycl. Rel. Lindsay Jones, ed. Encyclopedia of Religion. 15 vols. 2d ed.
Macmillan, 2005.
GSL Lupu, Eran. Greek Sacred Law: A Collection of New Documents
(NGSL). Leiden: Brill, 2005.
ICr Guarducci, Margherita, ed. Inscriptiones Creticae. 4 vols.
Rome: Libreria dello Stato, 1935–50.
IEph Wankel, Hermann, and H. Engelmann, eds. Die Inschriften
von Ephesos. Bonn: Habelt, 1979–81.
IG1 ,2 ,3 Inscriptiones Graecae. 15 vols. 1st ed. Berlin: de Gruyter, 1877–.
2d ed. Berlin: De Gruyter, 1913–. 3d ed. Berlin, De Gruyter, 1981–.
IKios Corsten, Thomas, ed. Die Inschriften von Kios, Bonn, 1985.
ILLRP Degrassi, Attilio, ed. Inscriptiones Latinae Liberae Rei Publicae.
2 vols. Florence: La nuova Italia, 1963–1965.
IvMagn Kern, Otto, ed. Die Inschriften von Magnesia am Maeander.
Berlin: Spemann, 1900.
ISmyrna Petzl, Georg, ed. Die Inschriften von Smyrna, Bonn, 1987.
LfrgE Snell, Bruno, et al. eds. Lexikon des frühgriechischen Epos.
4 vols. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck und Ruprecht, 1955–2010.
LIMC Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae Classicae, 9 vols. Zurich,
1981–1999.
LSAM Sokolowski, Franciszek, ed. Lois sacrées de l’Asie Mineure.
Paris: de Boccard, 1955.
LSCG Sokolowski, Franciszek, ed. Lois sacrées des cités grecques.
Paris: de Boccard, 1969.
LSG Prott, Hans von, and Ludwig Ziehen, eds. Leges Graecorum
sacrae et titulis collectae. 2 vols. Leipzig: Teubner, 1896–1906.
LSS Sokolowski, Franciszek, ed. Lois sacrées des cités grecques.
Supplément. Paris: de Boccard, 1962.
LSJ Liddell, Henry George, Robert Scott and Henry Stuart Jones,
eds. Greek-English Lexicon. 9th ed. Oxford: Clarendon Press,
1940.
240 noel robertson

LSJ RS Glare, P.G.W. ed. Liddell, Scott, Jones, Greek-English Lexicon:

Revised Supplement. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1996.
PEG Bernabé, Albertus, ed. Poetae Epici Graeci, 4 vols., Leipzig and
Munich, 1987–2009.
RE Wissowa, Georg et al., eds. Pauly’s Real-Encyclopädie der classi-
schen Alterthumswissenschaft. 84 vols. Stuttgart: Metzler, 1894–
1980.
SEG Supplementum Epigraphicum Graecum. Leiden: Brill and others,
1923–.
SIG3 Dittenberger, Wilhelm, ed. Sylloge Inscriptionum Graecarum. 3d
ed. 4 vols. Leipzig: Hirzel, 1915–1924.
TAM Tituli Asiae Minoris, Vienna, 1920–.
ThesCRA Thesaurus Cultus et Rituum Antiquorum, 6 vols. Los Angeles,
2004–2006.

Bibliography

Barton, S. C. and G. H. R. Horsley, “A Hellenistic Cult Group and the New testament
Churches”. Jahrbuch für Antike und Christentum 24 (1981): 7–41
Benveniste, E. Le vocabulaire des institutions indo-européennes. Paris: Éditions de minuit,
1969.
Bömer, Franz. Ovid. Die Fasten. 2 vols. Heidelberg: Universitätsverlage, 1958.
Borgeaud, Philippe. The Cult of Pan in Ancient Greece. Chicago: The University of Chicago
Press, 1988. (English translation of French edition of 1979).
Bremmer, Jan N. “How Old is the Ideal of Holiness (of Mind) in the Epidaurian Temple
Inscription and the Hippocratic Oath?” Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik 141
(2002): 106–8.
Bruneau, Philippe. Recherches sur les cultes de Délos à l’époque hellénistique et à l’époque
impériale. Paris: de Boccard, 1970.
Burkert, Walter. 1975. ‘Reshep-Figuren, Apollon von Amyklai und die “Erfindung” des
Opfers auf Cypern’, Grazer Beiträge 4 (1975): 51–79.
——. 1992. The Orientalizing Revolution. Near Eastern Influence on Greek Culture in the
Early Archaic Age. Cambridge, Mass: Harvard University Press, 1992.
Campbell, John K. 1964. Honour, Family and Patronage. A Study of Institutions and Moral
Values in a Greek Mountain Community. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1964.
Chaniotis, Angelos. “Reinheit des Körpers—Reinheit des Sinnes in den griechischen
Kultgesetzen”. Pages 142–79 in Schuld, Gewissen und Person. Studien zur Geschichte des
inneren Menschen. Edited by J. Assmann and T. Sundermeier. Gütersloh: Gütersloher
Verlagshaus, 1997.
Chantraine, Pierre. Dictionnaire étymologique de la langue grecque, with supplement. Paris:
Klincksieck, 1999.
Clay, Jenny S. “The beginning and end of the Catalogue of Women and its relation to Hesiod”.
Pp. 25–34 in The Hesiodic Catalogue of Women: Constructions and Reconstructions.
Edited by R. Hunter. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Cole, Susan G. “Demeter in the Ancient Greek City and its Countryside”. Pp. 199–216 in
Placing the Gods. Sanctuaries and Sacred Places in Ancient Greece. Edited by S. E. Alcock
and R. Osborne. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1994.
 the concept of purity in greek sacred laws 241

Deshours, Nadine. Les Mystères d’Andania. Étude d’épigraphie et d’histoire religieuse.

Bordeaux: Ausonius, 2006.
——. L’Été indien de la religion civique. Bordeaux: Ausonius, 2011.
Dickinson, Oliver. The Aegean from Bronze Age to Iron Age. London: Routledge, 2006.
Erbse, Hartmut. Untersuchungen zu den attizistischen Lexika. Berlin: Akademie Verlag,
1950.
Fehrle, Eugen. Die kultische Keuschheit im Altertum. Giessen: A. Töpelmann, 1910.
Ferrari, Walter. “Due note su ἁγνός”, Studi Italiani di Filologia Classica 17 (1940): 33–53.
Frisk, Hjalmar. Griechisches etymologisches Wörterbuch, with addenda. Heidelberg:
C. Winter, 1979.
Graninger, Charles D. The Regional Cults of Thessaly. Cornell University dissertation,
2006.
Guarducci, Margherita. Epigrafia greca. 4 vols. Rome: Istituto Poligrafico della Stato,
1967–1978.
Hammond, Nicholas G. L. Migrations and Invasions in Greece and Adjacent Lands. Park
Ridge: Noyes Press, 1976.
Henderson, Jeffrey. The Maculate Muse, 2d ed. New York: Oxford University Press, 1991.
Henrichs, Albert. “Male Intruders among the Maenads: The So-called Male Celebrant”.
Pp. 69–81 in Mnemai: Classical Studies in Memory of K.K. Hulley. Edited by H. D. Evjen.
Chico: Scholars Press, 1984.
Hirschmann, Vera-Elisabeth. “Macht durch Integration? Aspekte einer gesellschaftlichen
Wechselwirkung zwischen Verein und Stadt am Beispiel der Mysten und Techniten des
Dionysos von Smyrna”. Pp. 41–59 of Vereine, Synagogen und Gemeinden im kaiserzeitli-
chen Kleinasien. Edited by A. Gutsfeld und D.-A. Koch. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2006.
Howe, Timothy. Pastoral Politics. Animals, Agriculture and Society in Ancient Greece.
Claremont: Regina Books, 2008.
Hutter, Manfred. “Der Luwische Wettergott Pihassassi und der Griechische Pegasos”.
Pp. 79–97 of Studia Onomastica Indogermanica. Festschrift für Fritz Lochner von Hütten-
bach zum 65. Geburtstag. Edited by M. Ofitsch and C. Zinko. Graz: Leykam, 1995.
Jost, Madeleine. Sanctuaires et cultes de l’Arcadie. Paris: J. Vrin, 1985.
——. “Mystery Cults in Arcadia”. Pages 143–68 in Greek Mysteries. The Archaeology and
Ritual of Ancient Greek Secret Cults. Edited by M. B. Cosmopoulos. Routledge: London,
2003.
Kaltsas, Nikolaos. Sculpture in the National Archaeological Museum, Athens. Los Angeles:
Getty Publications, 2002.
King, Helen. “Agnodike and the Profession of Medicine”. Proceedings of the Cambridge
Philological Society 212 [n.s. 32] (1986): pp. 53–77.
Latte, Kurt. Römische Religionsgeschichte. Munich: C. H. Beck, 1960.
Lightfoot, Janet L. Lucian on the Syrian Goddess. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003.
Mazarakis Ainian, Alexander. From Rulers’ Dwellings to Temples. Architecture, Religion and
Society in Early Iron Age Greece (1100–700 B.C.). Jonsered: Paul Åströms Förlag, 1997.
Mondi, Robert. “The Function and Social Position of the κῆρυξ in Early Greece” (disserta-
tion summary). Harvard Studies in Classical Philology 83 (1979): 405–6.
Morelli, D. I Culti in Rodi. Pisa: Goliardica, 1959.
Morris, Sarah P. “Potnia aswiya: Anatolian Contributions to Greek Religion”. Pp. 423–34 of
Potnia. Deities and Religion in the Aegean Bronze Age. Edited by R. Laffineur and R. Hägg.
Liège: Annales d’archéologie égenne 22, 2001.
Moulinier, Louis. Le Pur et l’impur dans la pensée des Grecs. Paris: Klincksieck, 1952.
Mylonopoulos, Joannis. Πελοπόννησος οἰκητήριον Ποσειδῶνος Heiligtümer und Kulte des
Poseidon auf der Peloponnes. Liège: Centre Internationale d’Étude de la Religion Grecque
Antique, 2003.
Nilsson, Martin P. Griechische Feste. Leipzig: B. G. Teubner, 1906.
——. Geschichte der griechischen Religion, 2 vols. 2d ed. Munich: C. H. Beck, 1955, 1961. (“3d
ed.” is unchanged.)
242 noel robertson

Nock, Arthur D. “Eunuchs in Ancient Religion”. Archiv für Religionswissenschaft 23 (1925):

25–33. Repr. pp. 7–15 in Essays on Religion and the Ancient World. Oxford: Clarendon
Press, 1972.
Parke, Herbert W. The Oracles of Apollo in Asia Minor. London: Croom Helm, 1985.
Parker, Robert. Review of Borgeaud, The Cult of Pan (French edition). Classical Review n.s.
31 (1981) 130–31.
——. Miasma. Pollution and Purification in Early Greek Religion. Oxford: Clarendon Press,
1983.
——. “What are Sacred Laws?” Pages 57–70 in The Law and the Courts in Ancient Greece.
Edited by E. M. Harris and L. Rubinstein. London: Duckworth, 2006.
Petrovic, Ivana and Andrej. “‘Look Who Is Talking Now!’: Speaker and Communication
in Greek Metrical Sacred Regulations”. Pp. 151–79 of Ritual and Communication in
the Graeco-Roman World. Edited by E. Stavrianopoulou. Liège: Centre Internationale
d’Étude de la Religion Grecque Antique, 2006.
Pouilloux, Jean. Recherches sur l’histoire et les cultes de Thasos. Paris: De Boccard, 1954.
Renberg, Gil H. ‘Commanded by the Gods’: An Epigraphical Study of Dreams and Visions in
Greek and Roman Religious Life. Duke University dissertation, 2003.
Renehan, Robert. “Hera as Earth-Goddess: A New Piece of Evidence”. Rheinisches Museum
n.s. 117 (1974): 193–201.
Richardson, Nicholas J. The Homeric Hymn to Demeter. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1974.
Riethmüller, Jürgen W. Asklepios. Heiligtümer und Kulte, 2 vols. Heidelberg: Verlag
Archäologie und Geschichte, 2005.
Rigsby, Kent J. Review of Trümpy, Monatsnamen. Gnomon 72 (2000) 550–51.
——. “Notes on Sacred Laws”. Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik 170 (2009):
73–80.
Robertson, Noel. “Poseidon’s Festival at the Winter Solstice”. Classical Quarterly n.s. 34
(1984) 1–16.
——. “Melanthus, Codrus, Neleus, Caucon: Ritual Myth as Athenian History”. Greek,
Roman and Byzantine Studies 29 (1988): 201–61.
——. “Athena and Early Greek Society: Palladium Shrines and Promontory Shrines”.
Pp. 383–475 in Religion in the Ancient World: New Themes and Approaches. Edited by
M. Dillon. Amsterdam: A. M. Hakkert, 1996.
——. “A Missing Chapter in the History of Greek Religion”. Pages 239–304 in Cybele, Attis
and Related Cults. Edited by E. N. Lane. Leiden: Brill, 1996.
——. “New Light on Demeter’s Mysteries: The Festival Proerosia”. Greek, Roman and
Byzantine Studies 37 (1996): 319–79.
——. “The Two Processions to Eleusis and the Program of the Eleusinian Mysteries”.
American Journal of Philology 119 (1998): 547–75.
——. “The Sequence of Days at the Thesmophoria and at the Eleusinian Mysteries”. Echos
du Monde Classique n.s. 1.1 (1999): 1–33.
——. “Athena as Weather Goddess”. Pages 29–55 in Athena in the Classical World. Edited
by S. Deacy and A. Villing. Leiden: Brill, 2001.
——. “The Religious Criterion in Greek Ethnicity: the Dorians and the Festival Carneia”.
American Journal of Ancient History n.s. 1.2 (2002): 5–74.
——. “Orphic Mysteries and Dionysiac Ritual”. Pages 218–40 in Greek Mysteries. The
Archaeology and Ritual of Ancient Greek Secret Cults. Edited by M. B. Cosmopoulos.
Routledge: London, 2003.
——. Religion and Reconciliation in Greek Cities: The Sacred Laws of Selinus and Cyrene.
New York: Oxford University Press, 2010.
Rudhardt, Jean. Notions fundamentales de la pensée religieuse et actes constitutifs du culte
dans la Grèce classique. Geneva: E. Droz, 1958. (“2d ed.” is unchanged.)
Sarkady, Janos. “Die Ionischen Feste und die Ionische Urgeschichte”. Acta Classica
Universitatis Scientiarum Debreceniensis 1 (1965): 11–20.
 the concept of purity in greek sacred laws 243

——. “Heortologische Bemerkungen zur Dorischen Urgeschichte”. Acta Classica

Universitatis Scientiarum Debreceniensis 5 (1969): 7–19.
——. “Die Kalendergruppen Nord- und Mittelgriechischenlands”. Acta Classica Universitatis
Scientiarum Debreceniensis 6 (1970): 9–16.
——. “Éléments non-Ioniens dans le matériel héortologique de l’Ionie”. Acta Classica
Universitatis Scientiarum Debreceniensis 7 (1971): 13–20.
——. “Zur Entstehung des griechischen Kalenders”. Acta Classica Universitatis Scientiarum
Debreceniensis 8 (1972): 3–9.
——. “Outlines of the Development of Greek Society in the Period between the 12th and
8th Centuries B.C.”. Acta Antiqua Academiae Scientiarum Hungaricae 23 (1975): 107–25.
Scholz, Herbert. Der Hund in der griechisch-römischen Magie und Religion. Berlin: Triltsch &
Huther, 1937.
Scullion, Scott. “Olympian and Chthonian”. Classical Antiquity 13 (1994): 75–119.
Sherwin-White, Susan M. Ancient Cos. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck and Ruprecht, 1978.
Smith, David R. “The Coan Festival of Zeus Polieus”. Classical Journal 69 (1973): 21–25.
Snodgrass, Anthony M. Archaeology and the Rise of the Greek State. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1977.
——. An Archaeology of Greece. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987.
——. The Dark Age of Greece. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1971. (reprint,
2001)
Spenser, Nigel. “Early Lesbos between East and West”. The Annual of the British School at
Athens 90 (1995): 269–306.
Sporn, Katja. Heiligtümer und Kulte Kretas in klassischer und hellenistischer Zeit. Heidelberg:
Verlag Archäologie und Geschichte, 2002.
Threatte, Leslie. The Grammar of Attic Inscriptions, vol. I Phonology, vol. II Morphology.
Berlin: W. de Gruyter, 1980, 1996.
Trümpy, Catherine. 1997. Untersuchungen zu den altgriechischen Monatsnamen und
Monatsfolgen. Heidelberg: C. Winter, 1997.
Vernant, Jean-Pierre. Myth and Society in Ancient Greece. Brighton: Harvester Press, 1980.
(English translation of French edition of 1974).
Voutiras, E. “Opfer für Despoina: Zur Kultsatzung des Heiligtums von Lykosura IG V 2, 415”.
Chiron 29 (1999): 233–46.
Wächter, Theodor. Reinheitsvorschriften im griechischen Kult. Giessen: A. Töpelmann,
1910.
West, Martin L. “Hesiodea”, Classical Quarterly n.s. 11 (1961): 130–45.
——. The East Face of Helicon. West Asiatic Elements in Greek Poetry and Myth. Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1997.
Williger, E. Hagios. Giessen: A. Töpelmann, 1922.
Zunino, Maddalena L. 1997. Hiera Messeniaka. La storia religiosa della Messenia dell’età
micenea all’età hellenistica. Udine: Forum, 1997.
 CONCEPTS OF PURITY IN ANCIENT GREECE,
WITH PARTICULAR EMPHASIS ON SACRED SITES

Linda-Marie Günther

For this printed version of the paper on Ancient Greece that I had the
honor of presenting in association with the workshop ‘Purity in Processes
of Social, Cultural and Religious Differentiation’, I will retain the thematic
focus on ritual and non-ritual purification of sacred sites. This theme cor-
responds to my interest in sacrilege, especially acts of violence against and
inside religious sites during political disputes, a topic I was able to work on
for quite some time. The central theme will be concepts of purity, which
were supposed to be sketched out for ‘pre-Hellenic Antiquity’. However, it
does not make sense to me to limit the scope to the time before Alexander
the Great (336–323 bce): this historical or, rather, art-historical–archae-
ological ordering of Greek Antiquity into Archaic, Classic and Hellenic
periods is not well-suited to the history and study of religion. And as it
turns out, the same answers to the various questions given in the work-
shop can be drawn from the available material from both pre-Hellenic
and post-Classical evidence.1
I have an additional reservation, concerning the plural ‘Greek religions’
in the original wording. Normally one speaks of the Greek religion:2 the
numerous and very diverse gods, as well as their similarly diverse cults,
can in no way be described as different ‘religions’, although this unfortu-
nately happens again and again. One example of this appears in a recently
published archaeological paper on Apollo of Milet.3 The author first calls
the god the “personification of statehood”, then calls the cult of Apollo a
“state cult”, before finally, with respect to the close ties between Apollo

1 Especially suitable for this purpose is the epigraphic text of a lex sacra from Cyrene,
which has become, since its discovery in 1922, a locus classicus for pollution and purifica-
tion precisely because it shows, with its controversial difficulties for language and religious
study, how far from complete the investigations into this focus of our interest actually are.
On this point cf., below, notes 35–36. A discussion of this significant document is not pos-
sible in the space allotted here.
2 Cf. the standard work of Nilsson, Religion, passim.
3 Herda, “Apollon”, 13–75.
246 linda-marie günther

Delphinios and Apollo Didymeus, speaking of a specific “bipolarity of

Milesian state religion”.4
Looked at this way, every (purported) ‘state cult’—for example the
cult of Athena in Athens, of Hera on Samos and in Argos, or of Artemis
in Ephesus—would qualify as a ‘state religion’, and we would count as
many (state) religions in antique Hellas as city states/poleis or other state
communities (éthne = tribal states, or koiná = federal states)—and this
does not yet include the so-called Pan-Hellenic cults, for example, those
of Apollo Pythios in Delphi, of Zeus Olympios in Olympia, or of Poseidon
on the Isthmus of Corinth.
That the idea that ‘state cult’ equals ‘state religion’ is false can be
demonstrated not least by the fact that there were usually several gods
in a polis that were venerated ‘ex officio’, namely, by the entire settle-
ment community, which was at the same time chiefly the cult commu-
nity. Thus, in Athens for example, there was not just one, or more than
one, cult of Athena, but also cults of Apollo, Dionysus, Demeter and Kore,
Poseidon, etc. In Milet, there were cults not only of Apollo but also of
Artemis, Athena, Aphrodite, etc. Therefore, one likewise cannot speak of
a ‘change of religion’ when one determines that in one polis at a particular
time a certain cult was clearly preferred over another cult. In the follow-
ing, then, I will treat not religions but various cults, which of course all
have their own religious contexts and interwoven traditions but which are
not, each in itself, identical with ‘Greek religion’.
In what follows I would first like to sketch the basic characteristics of
the concepts of purity that were common to most of the cults, as can be
found in the relevant handbooks.5 Nilsson, in his writings on ‘power and
the sacred’, emphasizes the extraordinary role that taboos of purity play in
most religions, though he assumes that strict taboo precepts were rather
scarce in ancient Greece.6 Purity and chastity were required of any person
who approached the gods; for priests, there were at most additional rules
of physical integrity.7 What he means by impurity is principally physical
impurity and that generated by sexuality and death, although he recog-
nizes in the Hellenes’ world of faith a pragmatic moderation in defining
purity, which he ascribes to a characteristic relativization of that power

4 Herda, “Apollon”, 61.

5 Nilsson, Religion, passim; Parker, Miasma, generally uses ‘early Greek Religion’ to
mean the pre-Hellenistic Greek religion.
6 Nilsson, Religion, 89–91; cf. Parker, Miasma, 328–31.
7 Nilsson, Religion, 90.
 concepts of purity in ancient greece 247

that is the basis of taboo concepts in other religions.8 For Nilsson, mean-
while, the central role is played by the term ‘impurity’, which has two
opposites: pure and sacred. In this conception, impurity is to be elimi-
nated by purification and changed into purity in the sense that what is
now pure may approach the sacred because it is no longer tainted by the
sacred’s opposite, the impure.9 It must be noted that the profane is not
the opposite of the sacred, and therefore the profane is also not identical
with the impure but is instead an entity sui generis.
Due to the fundamental relevance of the Greek terminology, a short
explanation of terms is in order:10 Ἱερός and ἅγιος/ἁγνός (ἅζοµαι = to dread,
esteem) are to be translated as ‘holy/sacred’, while ἱερός and its semantic
field (ἱερόν, ἱερεύειν, ἱερεύς, ἱερεῖον) are of controversial etymology and evi-
dently have to do with power and greatness. Ἅγιος, on the other hand, is
connected with purity, but like the Latin sacer has the double meaning
of ‘pure/holy’ as well as ‘cursed’. Therefore the related noun ἄγος on the
one hand means maculation, sacrilege and, concretely, bloodguilt, but can
on the other also express ‘holiness’. Impurity by contamination is µίασµα
(‘maculation’), but µιαρός can also be a synonym for ἅγιος, while the verb
ἁγνίζειν can be used synonymously with καθαίρειν (‘cleanse’): Καθαρός is
the commonly known word for ‘pure’, though this κάθαρσις (‘purification’)
can also be of a metaphysical kind. The term ὅσιος is much debated; it
can be used as a synonym for ἁγνός and καθαρός. Through the restora-
tion of the pure by καθαίρειν, µιαρός (‘dirty’) becomes ἱερός again, or ὅσιος.
According to Parker, ὅσιος denotes the opposite of taboo, namely, that
which is welcome and pleasing to the divine and the very thing that
should not be avoided.
Against the background of the philological aspects presented here, at
this point some of the questions posed in advance to structure the presen-
tations and discussions in the workshop can be answered.
The first complex question we can answer is as follows:
Is there a differentiating semantics of concepts of purity and impurity and
which are the aspects that come to the fore;
is there a difference between so-called ritual and moral purity and, if so,
how are these domains distinguished one from the other?

8 Nilsson, Religion, 90; 92–101 treats the following topics one after another: filth, sexual
intercourse, menstruation, fasting, childbirth, death and the dead, murder and killing.
9 Nilsson, Religion, 90; 101–10 concerns purifications, including the Pharmakos ritual.
10 On the following, cf. Nilsson, Religion, 89–91; Parker, Miasma, 3–17; 330–31.
248 linda-marie günther

This has for the most part been elucidated: in any case, it is a matter of
physical and cultic purity/impurity and much less of ‘moral’ purity; in
addition, the differences are not fundamental or at least not discernible
as such.11
The succinct answer to the question “How is the difference between
‘purity’ and ‘holiness’ evaluated?” is that ‘purity’ and ‘holiness’ are in prin-
ciple congruent terms. A further question can also be answered here,
namely:
Are there in the material evidence indications of diachronic developments
of purity representations and concepts;
are such developments the result of religious contacts or influences from out-
side, or are they exclusively to be understood as an internal development?
On this point, see the evaluation of pollution by sexual intercourse and
menstruation, and of fasting as cathartic, which Nilsson, in his treatment
of Greek concepts of purity, believed to be imperceptible: still rooted in
the 1900s in terms of academic history, Nilsson perceived in such defective
concepts a characteristic of the Greeks as a still-totally ‘natural’ people
who neither appreciated (sexual) asceticism nor made any ‘superstitious’
‘ado about menstruation’, and he attributed dissenting sources either to
Oriental religions or to agrarian magic practices.12
Because to all appearances the concept of a ‘contagious’ impurity is
fundamental to Greek religious thinking, much attention is paid to what
are highly significant provisions for purification and its corresponding rit-
uals. In this respect, the area of religious study based on literary tradition
primarily refers to texts of classical authors, whereas religious historians
increasingly draw on the rich epigraphic source material as well.13 In the
following, therefore, I will give a short overview of the historiographic and
epigraphic tradition on defilement and purification of cult sites.
If we turn to Herodotus, a well-travelled author who reports in consid-
erable detail on his impressions and experiences, especially with foreign
peoples,14 for information on purity, impurity, purification and defilement,
particularly of holy places, we find many a curiosity: for example, he claims

11 For completeness’ sake it may be noted here that there is also ‘genealogical’ impurity,
which at best can be considered the least frequent exception within the Greek concept of
impurity: the most well-known example is the Athenian aristocratic family of the Alkme-
onides, as descendants of the Kylon offenders.
12 Nilsson, Religion, 94.
13 Nilsson, Religion, 91; Parker, Miasma, 1–17 (emphasis on the literary evidence).
14 Bichler, “Ethnography”, passim.
 concepts of purity in ancient greece 249

that the Egyptians held pigs to be unclean (µιαρὸν θηρίον), that pig herders
did not have access to any temples in Egypt, and that it was consequently
forbidden to use pigs as sacrificial animals. However, he accounts for the
fact that precisely these animals were sacrificed to Dionysus and Selene,
and that their meat was also eaten at the sacrificial feast, by reference
to a legend (λόγος ἱερός), which he then neglects to narrate.15 In another
passage, in a description of an Egyptian’s customary clothing, the author
emphasizes that the white woolen robe worn over the linen undergar-
ment is always removed before entering a sanctuary and that no one is
buried in this garment, for that is ‘forbidden’ or an ‘offense’ (οὐ ὅσιον)—
also, incidentally, for members of Greek secret cults, namely, the Orphic
and Bacchic mysteries. He claims that there is also a corresponding legend
for this custom of removing the garment and for being buried without it.16
In sexual comportment the author sees one specific point common to
Egyptians and Greeks with regard to purity at holy sites:
Further, it was the Egyptians who first made it a matter of religious obser-
vance not to have intercourse with women in temples, nor enter a temple
after such intercourse without washing. Nearly all other men are less careful
in this matter than are the Egyptians and Greeks, and hold a man to be like
any other animal; for beasts and birds (they say) are seen to mate both in
the temples and the sacred precincts [. . .].17
Moral impurity, which is rather rare in the area of Greek religious prac-
tices, can be found in two examples from Herodotus’ historical works,
whose political origin is evident. In the first case, in the island polis of
Chios, it was forbidden to use grains and fruits from a certain farming
area, namely, from the Mysic coastal area of Atarneus, a part of the main-
land lying across from the island neighboring Lesbos in the north, for sac-
rifices. The reason he gives for this is that around 540 bce, the purchase
of that strip of land was practically paid for by a sacrilege, the betrayal to
the new Persian rulers of the Lydian rebel Paktyes, who had saved him-
self by fleeing as a political refugee to the temple of Athena Poliuchos.18
In the second case, the enmity between the people of Argos and Aigina
on the one hand, and Athens on the other, is supposed to have escalated
after serious disputes surrounding two cult images originally of Athenian

15 Herodotus 2.47.1–2.
16 Herodotus 2.81.1–2.
17 Herodotus 2.64.1–2.
18 Herodotus 1.160.3–4.
250 linda-marie günther

provenance, to the extent that it was finally forbidden to bring any Attic
object, even the Attic drinking cups used for the cult wassail, into a tem-
ple that was jointly used by both parties!19
Thucydides, the Athenian author of a contemporary historical work on
the Peloponnesian War, reports on a purification of the superregionally
significant temple of Apollo on the island of Delos,20 which “in compli-
ance with a certain oracle” took place in the year 426/5 bce:
But at this time the whole was purified, and in the following manner. All the
sepulchers of the dead that were in Delos they removed and proclaimed that
thereafter no one should either die or give birth to a child on the island, but
should first be carried over to Rheneia. For Rheneia is so short a distance
from Delos [. . .] It was at this time, after the purification, that the Athenians
first celebrated their penteteric festival in Delos.21
When querying the oracle in Delphi, the Athenians apparently asked the
god for approval and guidance in rebuilding that temple, evidently in con-
nection with the reinstatement of the earlier agons in honor of the Delic
Apollo, which in recent times had fallen into oblivion but that were now
held again every four years.22 The oracular god gave his permission, on
the condition that the island be purified, for the planned enlargement
of the sacred precincts—for example, for holding the chariot races that
were now a part of the festival agons. A special problem that must have
been considered in the request at Delphi was the status of the tiny islet
Rheneia, which had for about 100 years been chained to Delos and was
thus hallowed. After 426/5 this island was again a profane area, as not only
were the sarcophagi (most of which were apparently prehistoric) removed
to the islet from Delos, but also in the future the dying and women in
childbirth were allowed to be there, which in a temenos was otherwise
considered a defilement and thus prohibited. Even if Thucydides makes
no mention of the concrete Athenian purification rites on Delos, a reli-
gious purification must have been carried out there, because the removal
of the object causing defilement was only the first step, necessarily fol-
lowed by a ritual to restore purity. Thus it was one of the indispensable
principles of purity regarding cult sites that, for example, whenever a dead
body was found in a sanctuary, the body first had to be removed, and then

19 Herodotus 5.88.2.
20 Thucydides 1.8.1 initially tells of ancient sarcophagi that were removed or moved and
whose grave goods included ‘Karian’ weapons.
21 Thucydides 3.104.1–2.
22 Cf. Hornblower, “Religious Dimension”, 169–97.
 concepts of purity in ancient greece 251

the temple had to be purified, for instance by washing the cult image in
the sea.23
Thucydides reports on dead people in temples in several other pas-
sages, in connection with the concept that those who were responsible,
or held to be responsible, for their demise were marked as offenders and
encumbered with guilt. The most prominent of these examples is that of
the so-called Kylonian offense, Κυλώνειον ἅγος, which took place around
630 bce.24 The attempt of Kylon the Athenian, with a group consisting of
his followers and armed men from Megara, to take over the Acropolis and
establish a tyrannis failed due to the attentive militia, which under the
direction of Megakles the archon besieged the stronghold and starved out
Kylon’s associates. In the end, the ‘putschists’ sat down on the altar of the
Acropolis, namely, that of Athena, while some also ensconced themselves
‘along the way’ at the altar of the Eumenides. But the enervated fight-
ers beseeching sanctuary were taken from the altar and then—outside
the sacred precinct—killed. The offense of these Athenians consisted of
their killing the men despite the assurance that they would be spared.
The Athenians’ reason for wanting to take the exhausted men away from
the altar, to which, it should be noted, the men acquiesced, was that they
saw them to be “near perishing in the temple”. If Kylon’s followers had
been left to starve, seeking asylum, in the temenos of Athena, this would
have been a serious desecration of the cult site. Those followers of Kylon
who—evidently in the course of being led away—sat down at the altar of
the Eumenides “were killed there”. From Thucydides we learn only that
those responsible for killing the asylum seekers were henceforth known as
“offenders and blasphemers of the goddess”. We learn nothing, however,
of the purification—which was undoubtedly necessary and undoubtedly
carried out—of the temenos of the Eumenides and surely also the temenos
of Athena on the Acropolis.
Somewhat more information is to be found in Thucydides’ account of
the sacrilege committed against the asylum-seeking Spartan Pausanias,
who was walled up and thus starved out inside the temple of Athena
Chalkioikos, in which he had sought refuge; however, he was brought
out of the sacred precinct just before he died, so that he died on profane
ground.25 The measures taken against the refugee—albeit without actively

23 Cf. Nilsson, Religion, 102, or 91 note 2.

24 Thucydides 1.128. Cf. Harris-Cline, “Athens”, 311–12; 314–16.
25 Thucydides 1.134.3–4.
252 linda-marie günther

killing the enervated man—were considered a serious crime against the

goddess just the same, for some time later the Delphic Apollo ordered that
Pausanias be buried opposite the temenos; in addition, the Spartans were
ordered to consecrate two bronze statues of the man by way of atonement.
The installation of these figures in the temple of Athena Chalkioikos and
the corresponding ritual were by no means a ritual purification, as the
temple had not been directly defiled by the body of Pausanias. Rather,
here we have an act of penance for the crime of having robbed the god-
dess, whose property Pausanias had become through his physical contact
with her sanctuary.
Thucydides portrays such acts as the killing, or the suicide, of sup-
pliants (hiketides) in temples in the context of the civil war (stasis) in
Kerkyra, which raged in 427/6 between pro-Athenian democratic forces
and pro-Corinthian or pro-Spartan oligarchs. Four hundred men of the so-
called oligarch party sought refuge in the temple of Hera but were coaxed
by their opponents to leave the temple and were taken to a nearby islet,
where they were given nourishment.26 After they were transported back
to the city temple, the situation escalated in favor of the democrats, who
again attempted to talk the men into leaving the temple. When those who
did so were immediately sentenced to death and executed, there was mass
suicide in the temple and seven days of rioting in the city:
But most of the suppliants, not having consented to be tried, when they saw
what was happening set about destroying one another in the sacred precinct
itself (ἐν τῷ ἱερῷ), while a few hanged themselves on trees, and still others
made away themselves as best they could. [. . .] Death in every form ensued
and whatever horrors are wont to be perpetrated at such times all happened
then [. . .] men were dragged from the temples and slain near them, and
some were even walled up in the temple of Dionysus and perished there.27
Several deaths at sacred sites—notably without any acts of violence—
had occurred a few years previously in Athens, during a pandemic.28 The
plague was aggravated by the hygienic conditions as, during the regular,
devastating raids by the Spartans in the first years of the Peloponnesian
War, the rural Attic population was forced to move inside the city, which
was well protected by its walls. When this happened, many people were
housed, among other places, in temples to the gods and heroes (τὰ ἱερὰ

26 Thucydides 3.70ff.; 75.5.

27 Thucydides 3.81.3–5.
28 Thucydides 2.47ff.
 concepts of purity in ancient greece 253

καὶ τὰ ἠρῷα), though not on the Acropolis, in the Eleusinion, or in such

temples “that could be securely closed”.29 As thousands of people died,
the temples that had been converted to living quarters filled up with bod-
ies.30 Although one may assume that there was a purification of the holy
places that had thus been defiled, Thucydides does not give an account
of it, probably because the customary rites did not attract the historian’s
interest.31 It is generally known with regard to Greek purification sacrifices
and rituals that the animals used therein were normally suckling pigs and
dogs, that is, the ‘cheapest’ animals. While the sacrificing of suckling pigs
is a familiar matter—particularly in the cult of Demeter32—it is surprising
to find the ritual killing of dogs for the purpose of restoring purity. In this
context, a short passage in Thucydides’ account of the plague is striking;
it tells how the unusual illness affected the animal kingdom:
The birds namely, and the four-footed animals, which usually feed upon
human bodies, either would not now come near them, though many lay
unburied, or died if they tasted of them. The evidence for this is that birds
of this kind became noticeably scarce [. . .] while dogs gave a still better
opportunity to observe what happened, because they live with man.33
The fact implied here, that dogs used in the purificatory sacrifices had not
previously touched a dead body, may reflect an apologetic argumenta-
tion in favor of the purification rituals, as the sacrificial animals were not
allowed to be defiled themselves by feeding on cadavers.
On the topic of purificatory sacrifices and sacrificial animals, it is not so
much the literary texts that give information, but instead epigraphs, as the
following examples may show. That other animals could also be sacrificed
to purify a temple is shown by an early Hellenistic lex sacra for the temple
of Aphrodite Pandemos from Athens (ca. 287 bce).34 The text of the epi-
graph, containing the regulations for the astynomes, each of which was
determined by lottery, serves not to document religious innovations but
to conserve older usages. Thus it informs us that in purifying the temple

29 Thucydides 2.17.1.
30 Thucydides 2.52.1–3.
31 Some researchers are of the opinion that the annual scapegoat ritual at the feast
of Thargelia, as well as the magnificent decoration of the agons on Delos (see above),
served to purge Athens of the dead from the plague; cf. Hornblower, “Religious Dimen-
sion”, 193–96; Auffarth, “Aufnahme”, 342–44.
32 Cf. Nilsson, Religion, 104–5.
33 Thucydides 2.50.1–2.
34 LSCG 39; IG II2 659, Syll3, 375; for a translation into German language see HGIÜ
Nr. 305.
254 linda-marie günther

of the goddess on the occasion of the annual procession, it was necessary

to provide a dove for the sacrifice, anoint the altars and coat the doors
with pitch and, finally, to wash down the statues as well. We remain in
the dark about the purpose to be served by providing roughly nine grams
of porphyry, however, as was likewise decreed.
A lex sacra from Cyrene, whose contents go back to archaic times
though the extant inscription was newly laid out only in the late 4th
century bce,35 provides information in one of its paragraphs about the
procedure for purification of the temple (κατάρας τὸ ἱαρόν) there.36 To be
precise, the text concerns the purification of an altar when it has been
sullied by the sacrifice of an animal that according to the traditional rules
should never have been used. This defilement of the altar threatened to
defile all subsequent sacrifices, whereby they would become invalid; this
could be prevented by purification. This purification is portrayed as an act
of cleaning and washing, by which the altar was primarily to be cleared of
the fat drippings from the ‘impure’ sacrificial animal. The dirty water from
cleansing the altar was to be disposed of outside the temple, whereas the
remaining embers, including the ashes (ἡ ἴκνυς), were instead taken ‘ἐς
καταρόν’. The interpretation of this wording is controversial, for it remains
unclear which ‘pure’ place—as a destination for ash and fire—is intended.
I must make reference to the diverging translation of ‘ὲς καταρόν’ as
‘thereby restore things to purity’.37 In commentaries on these commands
of the Cyrene lex sacra, two things are rightly emphasized: First, it is noted
that the ‘pollution’ whose rectification is regulated by these provisions is
caused not by a thing that is in and of itself impure, but by the use ‘con-
trary to custom’ of a thing that is irreproachable as such. In this case, it is
the sacrificial animal: “. . . pollution resides not in things themselves but
in their use in the wrong context, where the wrong is established by the

35 SEG IX 72; GHI 494–505; Luzzatto, Lex, passim.

36 SEG IX 72, A 26–31. My translation: “. . . Wer auf einem Altar ein Opfertier geopfert
hat, das zu opfern nicht Brauch (griech.: nomos) ist, soll von dem Altar das Fett, das darauf
geblieben ist, abwaschen und die Schmutzreste (bzw. das Abwasser) aus dem Heiligtum
entfernen sowie die Asche vom Altar und das Feuer fortbringen an einen reinen Ort, und
wenn er sich dann gewaschen, das Heiligtum gereinigt und als Buße ein ausgewachsenes
Tier geopfert hat, dann soll er opfern, wie es Brauch ist”. (To translate into English: “He
who has sacrificed on an altar an animal that is not customary [nomos] shall wash the altar
clean of the fat remaining on it, and remove the remaining dirt [or dirty water] from the
temple, and shall also remove the ashes from the altar and take the fire to a pure place;
and when he has washed himself, cleansed the temple and sacrificed a full-grown animal
as penance, then he shall sacrifice according to custom”.) Cf. Parker, Miasma, 339.
37 Parker, Miasma, 340.
 concepts of purity in ancient greece 255

existence of contrary customs”.38 Second, it is emphasized that by the act

of ‘wrong’ sacrifice not only are the altar and the temple polluted, but also
the person officiating at the sacrifice, who therefore must ‘wash himself
off’ (ἀπονιψάµενος) before he can be admitted to a new sacrifice, initially
the sacrifice of atonement. Furthermore, it is curious that only the offici-
ant himself seems to be responsible for ‘cleaning out’ the dirtied altar.
The question arises in this context of whether sacrificial rituals in
the Cyrenian temple of Apollo were performed without supervision or
were administered by competent cult staff. It is not possible to answer
this question based on the available material, but we can take a look
at an inscription from about the same period from Piraeus that docu-
ments a resolution by the demos regarding the duties of the village mayor
(demarchos) in the local thesmophorion39: the office-bearer must see to
it that no one sets consecrated animals free or keeps them in the precinct
of the Demeter temple and, further, that no cult groups (thiasoi) form
spontaneously. There are several exceptions to the rule that the rites of
purification must be carried out in the presence of the priestess, namely
on the feasts of thesmophoria, plerosia, kalamaia and skira, as well as in
the religious gatherings of women in accordance with tradition. We may
assume that the purification rites included, in particular, the slaughter of
suckling pigs.
That rites of purification always involved a sacrifice—in cases of previ-
ously perpetrated pollution, certainly in the sense of penance (ζηµία)—is
also clear from an epigraph from Rhodes from the first half of the 3rd
century bce, which set down a kind of visitors’ regulations for the temple
of a goddess named Alektrona. The resolution of the city officials and the
people’s assembly aimed explicitly at ensuring that the temple and the
sacred precinct were kept pure; in any case, it was decreed that three mar-
ble steles be put up at various points of access to the temple grounds for
public proclamation of the commands concerning access and penance.40
It was forbidden, according to this decree, to allow horses, donkeys, jen-
nies, mules or any other mane-bearing animal to be present in the entire
temple, or even to use shoes or other objects made of pigskin. Related
offenses, which could be reported by anyone, were sanctioned as follows:
the offender was obliged to purify the temple and the sacred precinct,

38 GHI 503.
39 LSCG 36; IG II2 1177; for a translation into German, see HGIÜ Nr. 289.
40 LSCG 136; IG XII 1, 677; Syll.3 338; for a translation into German, see HGIÜ Nr. 344.
256 linda-marie günther

which also involved making sacrifices, which are however not specified.
If someone did not respond to the order to perform this penance, the
penalty for godlessness (asebeia) was imposed; of what this consisted in
Ialysos is as yet unknown.
Sheep were not counted among the animals that defiled the above-
mentioned sanctuary by their presence, and yet the lex sacra notes
that he who drives such livestock into the temple grounds must pay a
donation for each animal. This is no small fine, for in such a case it would
likely have been the whole herd, at least 25 sheep, that charged the teme-
nos, so that the reparations could easily have amounted to four or more
drachmas.
And yet the difference between sheep and other ‘mane-bearing’ ani-
mals is obvious: sheep did not pollute the temple, so their presence in the
temenos did not give rise to a purification ritual; the fine served primarily
to protect the trees in the sacred grove, as is attested by similar regula-
tions in epigraphic material from other regions.41 Thus there is a provision
to this effect in a very extensive set of regulations for the cult of the Apollo
oracle in Korope, in central Greece, from the late 2nd century bce.42 For
our investigation, with its focus on purity and its maintenance in the tem-
ple, the passage on the responsibilities of the sexton (neokoros) in protect-
ing the sacred grove in the oracle’s temple is significant:43 the competent
official not only had to see to it that no one had the audacity to fell trees,
or even just cut off branches, but he also had to make sure that no one
drove herds of animals into the temenos to graze or to take shelter. In the
case of noncompliance, which apparently refers both to offenses against
the trees and to the unwelcome presence of sheep or goats, a fine of 50
drachmas had to be paid to the city. Regarding these animals, a separate
provision stipulated a fine per head of the herd in the case that the driver
was a slave, with an additional, quite formidable corporal punishment of
100 strokes of the whip for the slave himself.
In Korope as well, just as in Ialysos, certain infringements against the
‘regulations’ of a certain temple are not defined as defilement; conse-
quently, no ritual purification is required. As in 4th-century Attic Piraeus,

41 The fact that sheep (and goats) even in present-day Greece are a danger to the trees
growing around rural chapels is exemplified by a warning sign on the gate to the chapel
of Panagia Kavouradena on the south end of the island of Leros.
42 LSCG 83–84; IG IX 2,1109; Syll3, 1157; for a translation into German, see HGIÜ Nr.
492.
43 Loc. cit., 78–87.
 concepts of purity in ancient greece 257

where the mayor (demarchos) had been obliged to make sure visitors
observed the rules during sacrifices and, among other things, did not let
any consecrated animals escape from the temenos, it becomes clear that
not every case of misconduct violates the purity of the holy place.
Thus the source material presented here from the various regions of
the Greek-Hellenistic realm of states—irrespective of the differences in
detail—shows no development in the course of several centuries, let us
say, in the severity of regulations for maintaining the purity of the sacred
area. Even if some provisions, particularly the level of the fines and the
assignment of certain officials, are certainly the result of the concrete and
changing framework formed by the settlement population in the polis as
a religious community, to all appearances these hardly concern the core
of religious concepts. That the concepts of purity, or impurity, remained
constant through the centuries is most strikingly visible in the frequent
reference to conventional norms (νόµοι) and in taboos that have an anti-
quated feel, for instance the rule not to enter a temple wearing certain
attire. In this context let me refer again to the provision for the temple
of Alektrona in Ialysos that prohibits shoes or any other objects made
of pigskin.
The polluting aspect does not merely involve the idea that pigs were
impure animals (cf. above); the decisive factor could have been that the
taboo-laden objects were usually crafted from the skin of animals that
had not been slaughtered but had died ‘naturally’. Such ‘impure’ prod-
ucts, if brought into the temenos, could accordingly have contaminated
the holy place.44
To lead us further into the topic of dress rules or taboos, we have a
very informative fragment from a lex sacra of the 3rd century bce for the
temple of Despoina in the small Arcadian town of Lykosura.45 The cult
site of the goddess, who is apparently the equivalent of Demeter or Kore,
was frequented primarily or exclusively by women. One provision forbids
pregnant women or nursing mothers from taking part in the sacraments,46
and yet all the other paragraphs evidently refer to visits to the temple
at any given time: people were forbidden to enter with objects of gold,
colored clothing or rings on their fingers; sandals were also prohibited.
In cases of noncompliance, the forbidden object had to be consecrated.

44 Nilsson, Religion, 91.

45 LSCG 68; IG V 2,514; Syll.3 999; for a translation into German, see: HGIÜ Nr. 438.
46 Loc. cit., 11–13 (with shaving in line 12).
258 linda-marie günther

Because the provisions did not require that the offending objects be
removed from the temenos or that the site be purified but, on the con-
trary, the things stayed in the possession of the goddess, it is clear that no
pollution of the temple can have been caused by such textiles or by their
wearers. It seems apparent that the clothing rule in Lykosura aimed to
achieve equality in the outward appearance of the female visitors to the
temple, who in another paragraph are also forbidden to wear braided hair,
head coverings or flowers, so that these provisions must rather be under-
stood as limiting luxury.47 Furthermore, a woman visiting the temple—in
appropriate style, i.e., unadorned, in a white garment with her hair worn
down and without a head covering—undoubtedly also had to be clean
and sober, for this was generally required of all visitors to temples, male
and female.48
In closing, the questions that are still open may be answered: “How
are representations of purity described in the sources with respect to
their liminal function from a spatial, temporal, social and institutional
perspective?”
The available material from which several representative examples have
been presented here shows that concepts of purity in fact had a liminal
function and that they therefore attempted, in spatial terms, to guarantee
the purity, and the resulting sanctity, of the temenos.
The very fact that most leges sacrae were handed down in epigraphic
form shows that the public proclamation of the relevant provisions, which
very frequently were posted directly outside the entrances to the temple
grounds, served to ensure compliance with these rules—as did the fre-
quent provision that anyone could report an offense. From a temporal
perspective as well, temple rules on purity and attire were normally only
valid for the duration of the visit to the temenos. The social and institu-
tional liminal functions of the relevant provisions become clear when we
consider that the official duties that served to maintain cleanliness and
purity were the responsibility not only of the temple staff, including the
priests, but of the office-bearers in each settlement community. Revised
versions and supplements to the relevant provisions gave rise to ever-new

47 Loc. cit., 9–11; cf. Nilsson, Religion, 90. Cf. Bernhardt, Luxuskritik, 100–103; 253.
48 Cf. also on this point the epigraph from Korope, lines 38–41: the competent city dig-
nitaries, who together with the priests of Apollo and the prophet received the tablet with
questions for the oracle, were obliged to do so with orderly deportment, in white garments
with laurel wreaths, and in a state of cultic purity, as well as sober.
 concepts of purity in ancient greece 259

official publications, thanks to which the epigraphic material has been

passed down to us.
“What role does ‘purity’ play within the geographical and chronological
context as well as in collective or individual processes of identity forma-
tion?” The differentiation between ‘pure’ and ‘impure’ in the cults of the
Greek poleis played a major part in the processes of collective identity, as
whoever caused impurity in the sacred sites (temenos, altar, temple build-
ings) was expelled—until purity was restored—from the cultic commu-
nity. All in all, the collective was predominant, because the individual, the
‘citizen’ of a polis, defined himself in terms of his affiliation with each of
several cult communities, be it the festival community at the annual offi-
cial feasts of the polis gods or the smaller sacrificial communities (thiasoi)
that for the most part were organized within the family.49

Abbreviations

GHI Rhodes, Peter John, and Robin Osborne, eds. Greek Historical
Inscriptions 404–323 B.C. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003.
HGIÜ Broderson, Kai, Wolfgang Günther, and Hatto H. Schmitt, eds.
Historische griechische Inschriften in Übersetzung. 3 vols. Texte
zur Forschung. Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft,
1992–1999.
IG Inscriptiones Graecae1. Berlin: de Gruyter, 1877–;2 Berlin: de
Gruyter, 1913–.
LSCG Sokolowski, Franciszek, ed. Lois sacrées des cités grecques. Paris:
de Boccard, 1969.
SEG Chaniotis, Angelos, and J. H. M. Strubbe, eds. Supplementum
Epigraphicum Graecum. Leiden: Brill, 1976–.
Syll3 Dittenberger, Wilhelm, and Friedrich Hiller von Gaertringen, eds.
Sylloge inscriptionum Graecarum. 4 vols. Leipzig: Hirzel, 1915–24.

Bibliography

Auffarth, Christoph. “Aufnahme und Zurückweisung ‘Neuer Götter’ im spätklassischen

Athen: Religion gegen die Krise, Religion in der Krise?” Pages 337–66 in Die athenische
Demokratie im 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr.: Vollendung oder Verfall einer Verfassungsform?

49 The same is true of the many attested cult associations of the Hellenistic period in
which the metics convened: cf. on this Herrmann, “Urkunden”, passim.
260 linda-marie günther

Akten eines Symposiums, 3.–7. August 1992, Bellagio. Edited by W. Eder. Stuttgart: Franz
Steiner Verlag, 1995.
Bernhardt, Rainer. Luxuskritik und Aufwandsbeschränkungen in der griechischen Welt.
Historia. Einzelschriften 168. Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag, 2003.
Bichler, Reinhold. “Herodotus’ Ethnography: Examples and Principles”. Pages 91–112
in The World of Herodotus: Proceedings of an International Conference. Edited by
V. Karageorghis. Nicosia: Foundation Anastasios G. Leventis, 2004.
Harris-Cline, Diane. “Archaic Athens and the Topography of the Kylon Affair”. Annual of
the British School at Athens 94 (1999): 309–20.
Herda, Alexander. “Apollon Delphinios–Apollon Didymeus: Zwei Gesichter eines milesi-
schen Gottes und ihr Bezug zur Kolonisation Milets in archaischer Zeit”. Pages 13–75
in Kult(ur)kontakte: Apollon in Milet/Didyma, Histria, Myus, Naukratis und auf Zypern.
Internationale Archäologie 11. Edited by R. Bol. Rahden: Leidorf, 2008.
Herrmann, Peter. “Urkunden milesischer Temenitai”. Istanbuler Mitteilungen 30 (1980/1981):
223–39.
Hornblower, Simon. “The Religious Dimension to the Peloponnesian War: Or What
Thucydides Does Not Tell Us”. Harvard Studies in Classical Philology 94 (1992): 169–97.
Luzzatto, Giuseppe Ignazio. La ‘Lex Cathartica’ di Cirene. Fondazione Guglielmo Castelli
12. Milan: Giuffré, 1936.
Nilsson, Martin P. Geschichte der griechischen Religion: Die Religion Griechenlands bis auf
die griechische Weltherrschaft: Vol. 1. 3d ed. Munich: C. H. Beck, 1955.
Parker, Robert. Miasma: Pollution and Purification in Early Greek Religion. Oxford: Clarendon
Press, 1983.
 GREEK AND COMPARATIST REFLEXIONS ON FOOD PROHIBITIONS

Philippe Borgeaud

The purpose of this essay is to examine the way in which comparative

thinking about ritual practices, especially prohibitions, was already tak-
ing shape in Antiquity.1 That it was a comparative approach becomes
manifest when we consider the way in which ancient Greeks looked
upon Egypt. We may begin with an example taken from Herodotus, who
states that “they (the Egyptians) are especially careful ever to wear newly-
washed linen raiment.”2 Further on, the same author declares that the
Pythagorean, Orphic and Bacchic prohibition concerning wool—a prohi-
bition that commands, in turn, the prescription of wearing linen—comes
from Egypt.
[The Egyptians] wear linen tunics with fringes hanging about the legs, called
“calasiris,” and loose white woollen mantles over these. But nothing of wool
is brought into the temples, or buried with them; that is forbidden. In this
they follow the same rule as the ritual called Orphic and Bacchic, but which
is in truth Egyptian and Pythagorean; for neither may those initiated into
these rites be buried in woollen wrappings. There is a sacred legend about
this.3
Here, we are sent back to a space of comparison, in a very wide territory
with vaguely limited provinces, in which practices that can be qualified
in turn as Bacchic, Pythagorean, Orphic or Egyptian meet, intersect and
merge. Unhappily, Herodotus does not specify whether the hieròs lógos that
he mentions is Egyptian, Pythagorean or Orphic. Thus, the space for obser-
vation, the ground he chose for this limited comparative experimentation,
has no precise limits. Its borders are not clear, and this can be explained
(if not justified) by the fact that we are dealing with a set of practices that
will never cease to be a topic of constant interrogation for the ancient
authors themselves, from Herodotus to Porphyry and further.4

1 This text is an updated and slightly revised version of an earlier article in French on
this topic. See Borgeaud, “Réflexions grecques.”
2 Herodotus II 37, near the beginning of the §. Translation by A. D. Godley.
3 Herodotus II 81.
4 For the difficulty, notably, of differentiating ‘Orphic’ from ‘Bacchic,’ see Graf and
Johnston, Ritual Texts, 142–48. More generally, about Pythagorism: Macris, “Le pythagor-
isme érigé en hairesis”; as well as Macris, “ ‘Sectes’ et identité”.
262 philippe borgeaud

1. Food as “Cultural Operator”

In this field of investigation, and with respect to ritual prescriptions, ali-

mentary choices offer a major cultural “operator.” We may start here with
a specific case, namely, the case of vegetarianism attributed to Orpheus’
teaching.5
As is well-known, attestations of vegetarianism—or rather, should
we say, condemnations of sarkophagía—are extremely rare outside of
Pythagoras and Empedocles. There seem to be seven of them, all pertain-
ing to Orphism (bios orphikos), of which five are explicit.6
We get a rather clear impression out of this small dossier. From at least
the time of Aristophanes, one or a number of poems attributed to Orpheus
circulated that condemned murdering animals for food and thus also
condemned bloody sacrifices. There is no need to go back once more to

5 For Orphic documents, cf. Bernabé, Poetae epici Graeci; cf. also Kern’s edition, in
Orphicorum fragmenta.
6 See, above all, Casadio, “I Cretesi di Euripide,” 297: 1) Aristophanes, Ranae 1032 (= test.
90 Kern, 547; translation by J. Henderson): “Just consider how beneficial the noble poets
have been from the earliest times. Orpheus revealed mystic rites to us, and taught us to
abstain from killings (Orpheùs mèn gàr teletás th’hemîn katédeixe phónôn t’apéchesthai).”
2) Plato, Leges VI 782c (= test. 212 Kern, 625 Bernabé; translation by R. G. Bury): “The cus-
tom of men sacrificing one another is, in fact, one that survives even now among many
peoples; whereas amongst others we hear of how the opposite custom existed, when they
were forbidden so much as to eat an ox, and their offerings to the gods consisted, not of
animals, but of cakes of meal and grain steeped in honey, and other such bloodless sac-
rifices, and from flesh they abstained as though it were unholy to eat it or to stain with
blood the altars of the gods; instead of that, those of us men who then existed lived what
is called an “Orphic life,” keeping wholly to inanimate food and, contrariwise, abstaining
wholly from things animate.” 3) Euripides, Hippolytus 952 (= test. 213 Kern, 627 Bernabé;
translation by D. Kovacs): “Continue then your confident boasting, adopt a meatless diet
and play the showman with your food (di’apsúchou borâs sítois kapéleu’), make Orpheus
your lord (Orphéa t’ánakt’ékhôn) and engage in mystic rites (bákkheue), holding the vapor-
ings of many books in honor! For you have been found out.” 4) Plutarch, Septem sapi-
entium convivium 16, 159 C (= test. 215 Kern, 629 Bernabé; translation by F. C. Babbitt):
“But to refrain entirely from eating meat, as they record of Orpheus of old, is rather a
quibble than a way of avoiding wrong in regard to food.” 5) Jerome, Adversus Jovinianum
libri II 2, 14 (= test. 300-1 Kern, 630F Bernabé) quoting Porphyry, De abstinentia 269
(4, 22, 7 = CUF t. III, 40): “Orpheus, in his poems, rejects with horror all carnal food (Orpheus
in carmine suo esum carnium penitus detestatur).” 6) and 7) To these five attestations, one
may add, with Casadio, the famous fragment of the Cretans by Euripides (quoted by Por-
phyry, De abstinentia 4, 19 = 567 T Bernabé), where the matter is abstinence from animal
food, as well as a development found in Alexander Polyhistor (test. 214 Kern, 628 Bernabé),
quoted by Diogenes Laertius VIII 33), where mention is made of “all that those who hold
the office of celebrating rites in sacred ceremonies forbid” (i.e., red meat, fish, birds, eggs
and broad beans).
 greek and comparatist reflexions on food prohibitions 263

what was said on the matter by Sabbattucci, Detienne and others,7 apart
from the fact that reality was probably more complex than is suggested
by those few declarations taken out of their ritual setting.8 Condemnation
of sarkophagía requires that it be understood in the broader, and more
diverse, context of cultic prescriptions, to which this condemnation prop-
erly belongs and where it meets with other dietary and non-dietary pro-
hibitions. Such prohibitions were usually made in relation to exceptional
moments or to individuals separated from others; as far as dietary pro-
hibitions are concerned, they concerned not just animals but also veg-
etables (broad beans, onions, garlic mainly; but also, sometimes, mint or
pomegranate).9
This impression becomes further qualified by a consideration of the
case of Pythagorism.10 Thus, it was said among Pythagoreans that meat
was rarely eaten by Pythagoras himself (cf. Porphyry, Vita Pythagorae 34);
but it is not said that he never ate it. As a matter of fact, it is even specified
that exceptions concerned first and foremost piglets and hens (or cocks),
although with the absolute rejection of certain parts of the animal, such
as kidneys, testicles, genitals, marrow, feet, and heads (Diogenes Laertius
added the heart).
Marrow he called increase as it is the cause of growth in living beings. The
beginning was the feet, and the head the end; which have the most power
in the government of the body. He likewise advised abstention from beans,
as from human flesh. . . . He also wished men to abstain from other things,
such as a swine’s paunch (of the sow: métra), a mullet (triglís), and a sea-
fish called a “nettle” (akaléphe), and from nearly all other marine animals.
(Porphyry, Vita Pythagorae 43–44; translation by K. S. Guthrie)
Referring to a source from the 4th century bce (Rules of Education from
Aristoxenus), Diogenes Laertius (VIII 19) reports that Pythagoras forbade
eating mullet or oblade, as well as the heart of animals or broad beans.
The same author specifies that Aristotle added to this list the womb and

7 Casadio, “I Cretesi di Euripide”; Sabbatucci, Saggio; Detienne, Dionysos.

8 As Macris recently reminded us (“Speculations around a ritual; the critique of sac-
rifice from Pythagoras to Porphyros,” a lecture given in Geneva, Dec. 2009), Derveni’s
papyrus (471 T Bernabé) does mention Orphic carnal sacrifices, but they are offered to
daimones and not to gods (theoi); for this type of distinction between gods and demons,
cf. Xenocrates fr. 100, quoted by Plutarch, De Iside et Osiride 26 (361 B).
9 Wächter, Reinheitsvorschriften; Arbesmann, Die Fasten; Arbesmann, “Fasten”;
Hausleiter, Vegetarismus; Parker, Miasma, 358–63; Bruit and Schmitt-Pantel, “Citer, classer,
penser”; Grottanelli, “Carni proibite”.
10 Cf. among others Burkert, Weisheit, 150–75; Detienne, “La cuisine” (cf. id. Les jardins
d’Adonis, 72–113); Riedweg, Pythagoras, 65–71.
264 philippe borgeaud

sea mullet (see Rose, fr. 194). It is, therefore, a matter of specific prohi-
bitions regarding either (a) some types of animal species (specific fish,
plough oxen, or sheep), or (b) some special organs of any animal (the
womb, the heart), or even (c) specific vegetables that are sometimes asso-
ciated with an animal, like the broad bean. Such permanent prohibitions
are addressed to the members of the community; they otherwise imply an
altogether normal diet, not a vegetarian one.11
Diogenes Laertius continues by referring to Pythagoras’ personal way of
living. Some authors, he reports, affirm that he used to be content either
with honey or bread and refrained from drinking wine every day. For
meals, he would usually have boiled or raw vegetables, and seldom fish.
It is when we come to his relation to sacrificial practices (and to their
corollaries, such as divination) that things become more complicated.
According to the writing of Diogenes, Pythagoras did not practice augural
divination through observation of the birds’ flight, and he was opposed to
divination by fire, although he made an exception in the case of incense.
Consequently, he never offered an animate being as a sacrifice; yet some
authors say he sacrificed cocks and kids, but only young and tender ones
and never lambs (this seems to have to do with a general prohibition con-
cerning ovines). In any case, Diogenes reports that Aristoxenus declares
that Pythagoras nonetheless allowed others to eat all sorts of animals,
except plough oxen and sheep.
This is why we must be most careful with the following declaration,
made a few lines later, which seems to present Pythagoras as an abso-
lutely rigorous Orphic: “Not to let victims be brought for sacrifice to the
gods, and to worship only at the altar unstained with blood.”12 Obviously,
this is only a generalizing, and a posteriori, interpretation of a sort of veg-
etarianism that remained—exceptions apart—quite relative. The state of
purity achieved through strict obedience to these prescriptions was not
for all times, and especially not for just anyone. It is, rather, a temporary
ritual pre-condition, a state that has to be periodically reintegrated, or
recreated, according to circumstances. To abide everyday by such rules of
ritual purity would amount to leaving the normal sphere of ‘piety’ (euse-
beia) in order to become, at best, a kind of theios aner, or to join, at worst,
the shady world of ‘superstition’ in the Greek sense of deisidaimonía
(cf. Theophrastus, Characteres 16). From this perspective, it is not the

11 On this point, see explicitly Gellius, Noctes Atticae 4,11 11–13.

12 Diogenes Laertius VIII 22; translation by R. D. Hicks.
 greek and comparatist reflexions on food prohibitions 265

content of practices that would be the issue, but their exaggerated, mis-
placed or excessive character. As a matter of fact, the same gestures,
the same attitudes may be considered either as piety or as superstition,
depending on their degree of intensity but also on their setting.13
Diogenes Laertius (VIII 33), following Alexander Polyhistor and, again,
Aristotle, is a good example of the way in which the prohibitions discussed
here essentially concern a transitory state of ritual conditioning:
Purification is by cleansing, baptism and lustration, and by keeping clean
from all deaths and births and all pollution, and abstaining from meat and
flesh of animals that have died, mullets, gurnards, eggs and egg-sprung ani-
mals, beans, and the other abstinences prescribed by those who perform
mystic rites in the temples. (test. 214 Kern, 628 Barnabé; translation by
R. D. Hicks)
As a final note, one must also observe that Diogenes Laertius takes plea-
sure in composing slightly mocking verses. Among these short poems,
there is one in which he praises Pythagoras for abstaining from obliging
others to respect the same interdicts as he does.14
A more comprehensive study of this question should subject each one
of these Pythagorean prohibitions to a careful analysis. As a general rule,
we can see that they are assigned a number of explanations by ancient
authors, following various reasonings that are far from being unequivocal.15
What should we do with these rules and their manifold etiologies?

13 Cf. Borgeaud, “Une rhétorique antique de l’éloge”.

14 Neither does the Neoplatonic practice, which likes to claim to follow Pythagoras,
appear to be of one piece. This is how Porphyry, for instance, calls for a vegetarian behav-
ior that may satisfy the city’s laws (De abstinentia II 2 and 53; on this question, cf. Bruit
Zaidman, Le commerce, 208). Marinus (Vita Procli 19) will be even more explicit, specifying
that Proclus practices the vegetarian diet yet complies with the custom of bloody sacrifices
(albeit without eating meat, but only touching it).
15 To become aware of this point, it is enough to survey the etiological discourse about
the prohibition of broad beans. Diogenes Laertius states that, “According to Aristotle in his
work On the Pythagoreans, Pythagoras counselled abstinence from beans either because
they are like the genitals, or because they are like the gates of Hades . . . as being alone
unjointed, or because they are injurious, or because they are like the form of the uni-
verse, or because they belong to oligarchy, since they are used in election by lot.” Por-
phyry (Vita Pythagorae 44) develops one of these alternatives: “Beans were interdicted, it
is said, because the particular plants grow and individualize only after (the earth) which
is the principle and origin of things, is mixed together, so that many things underground
are confused, and coalesce; after which everything rots together. Then living creatures
were produced together with plants, so that both men and beans arose out of putrefaction
whereof he alleged many manifest arguments. For if anyone should chew a bean, and hav-
ing ground it to a pulp with his teeth, and should expose that pulp to the warm sun, for a
short while, and then return to it, he will perceive the scent of human blood. Moreover, if
266 philippe borgeaud

In order to tentatively address these questions, one must begin by locat-

ing these highly circumstantial behaviors in a wider context, in relation
to a set of generally shared ideological representations in ancient Greece.16
At this point, we come upon a matter that has to do with the very struc-
ture of the meal. The Greeks understand the basic diet as consisting of
the sîtos, which is a floor-based dish, usually bread. Along with this main
dish, there is also what is termed ópson in Greek, and of course póton (the
drink, on which I will not comment here). One holds sîtos with the left
hand and ópson with the right hand.17 For this basic structure consisting of
sîtos/ópson, the key text is from Plato, a famous passage from the Republic
picturing the simple life of a primitive state (Republic 372a–373d):
And for their nourishment they will provide meal from their barley and flour
from their wheat, and kneading and cooking these they will serve noble
cakes and loaves (mázas gennaías kaì ártous) on some arrangement of reeds
or clean leaves, and, reclined on rustic beds strewn with bryony and myrtle
(kataklinéntes epì stibádôn estrôménôn mílaki te kaì murrínais), they will
feast with their children, drinking of their wine thereto, garlanded and sing-
ing hymns to the gods . . . (translation by P. Shorey)
We may note immediately how this picture identifies the ideal diet with
bread and wine—and nothing else! However, the same text continues
with the following:
Here Glaucon broke in: “No relishes apparently (áneu ópsou),” he said,
“for the men you describe as feasting.” “True,” said I; “I forgot that they will
also have relishes—salt, of course, and olives and cheese; and onions and
greens, the sort of things they boil in the country, they will boil up together.
But for dessert we will serve them figs and chickpeas and beans, and they
will toast myrtle-berries and acorns before the fire, washing them down
with moderate potations . . . And he said: “If you were founding a city of pigs
(huôn pólis), Socrate, what other fodder than this would you provide?”
Why a city of pigs? Is it the mention of acorns that reduces humans to
the state of balanèphágoi, resembling primitive Arcadians? In the same
passage, Socrates retorts that the city whose food choices he has just
described is a real city, and a healthy one at that (alêthinè . . . hugiés). But

at the time when beans bloom, one should take a little of the flower, which then is black,
and should put it into an earthen vessel, and cover it closely, and bury in the ground for
ninety days, and at the end thereof take it up, and uncover it, instead of the bean he will
find either the head of an infant, or the pudenda of a woman.”
16 Scarpi, “Interdizioni alimentary”.
17 Cf. Davidson, “Opsophagia”.
 greek and comparatist reflexions on food prohibitions 267

he also adds that one may just as well describe it as a city “inflated with
humours” (phlegmaínousan). For it is a city where superfluity has estab-
lished itself: beds and tables to eat on, and all that goes with it, includ-
ing accompanying dishes (ópsa), perfumes and fumigations (múra kaì
thumíamata), courtesans and delicacies (hetaîrai kaì pémmata); luxurious
clothes, houses, shoes, ivory, gold . . .; a number of ‘crafts’: hunters, poets,
actors, pedagogues, nurses, hair-dressers as well as cooks and butchers
(opsopoioi and mágeiroi); and last but not least, all kinds of herds (boské-
mata) that may be eaten. This is how we go from a pig-city, whose food,
being essentially made of ártos, remains vegetarian concerning its ópsa,
to a city of luxury and superfluity, whose food, being essentially made of
such ópsa, has become meat-based.18

As a matter of fact, classical Greek tradition considers ópson as the normal

accompaniment of sîtos. But the same ópson also becomes a morally dubi-
ous, and philosophically blameworthy, delicacy when it is eaten without
sîtos, or with too little sîtos. One has to keep a just proportion, at least
theoretically or philosophically, so as not to fall into the error that the
Greeks call opsophagia.19
Antiphanes, in Rich Men (fr. 34, 5–6 KA), presents Phoinikides and
Taureas as “two old opsophagites who are able to swallow slices of fish
on the agora.” Fish, normally food for the poor (a poorly regarded food,
since fish itself eats man’s flesh), very quickly becomes fine food, a symbol
of opsophagia.20 Opsárion, diminutive of ópson, will eventually result in
the term psari, ‘fish’, in modern Greek!
Opsophagites—true gourmets, but also gluttons for the ancient
Greeks—are not ichthyophagites. But it is also no coincidence if fish
comes in here.
As a matter of fact, there is a Greek reluctance, or hesitation, as regards
fish (as appears to have been the case regarding broad beans, which con-
stitute one of the basic aliments that are praised in the Republic, as well
as, more generally, one of the bases of ancient food in general).21 On this
topic of fish, a comprehensive record of the available evidence has been

18 Analyzing this passage of Plato, among others, Cambiano and Repici (“Cibo e forme”)
insist on the fact that the primitive diet, as praised by Plato, is not a bios orphikos: on
the contrary the diet of the city guards, in Republic 403–405, follows the Homeric model
(i.e., no fish, nothing boiled, only roasted food).
19 See Xenophon, Memorabilia 3,14 (cf. +, 3, 5).
20 Cf. on this paradox Purcell, “Eating Fish”. Cf. also Davidson, “Opsophagia”.
21 Cf. Athenaeus 54 f; André, L’alimentation, 35.
268 philippe borgeaud

compiled by Nicolas Purcell. Among the animals that Greeks eat (and
there are many of them),22 fish is the only one that itself eats man—and
is thus an object of horror on the part of these sailors afraid of the sea, the
ancient Greeks. Purcell speaks here of a paradox, because far from being
forbidden, fish, for all its discredit, is at the same time a refined delicacy,
much sought after and often even ruinously expensive!
This ambivalence or apparent contradiction—namely, eating a dish
looked upon as repulsive or impure—can also be found with the dog
or horse, although perhaps to varying degrees. Here also, the prohibi-
tion sometimes tends to be more or less ‘forgotten’: consider the dog for
Hecate; the horse, for Poseidon or Helios. In these instances, however,
we are dealing with a true inversion of the matter of fish or broad beans:
whilst fish and broad bean, both abundantly eaten by normal mortals, are
the object of sectarian interdicts, horse and dog, generally kept out of all
food, are sometimes sacrificed by ordinary people in very precise places or
circumstances, such as Helios’ festivals and Hecate’s meal.23 Hecate also
receives for meals a much-appreciated fish that, however, is the subject of
a prohibition in Eleusis, namely, mullet (tríglê).24 Obviously, this seems to
complicate matters.
At this point, let us summarize by observing that the prohibition of some
Greeks serves to comment upon the practice of others; and that, here also,
the exception confirms the rule. To paraphrase the classical model elabo-
rated by Sabbattucci, which was taken up by Vernant’s school,25 it could
be said that the prohibition that is circumstantial and specialized (or even
foreign, or barbarous) comments upon a general custom and cannot be
understood without the latter.
The main aspect that I would like to emphasize is that this complex
play of mirrors, this self-commenting reflection of custom on itself, does
not merely function within the culture of ancient Greeks. Quite to the

22 According to Hippocrates (Hippocrates, De victu 2.46 = 6,544–6 Littré), Parker gives

the following list of eatable meats: ox, goat (m. f.), pig, sheep, donkey, horse, dog, wild bear,
stag (or roe deer), hare, fox, squirrel; Parker, Miasma, 357.
23 Cf. Zografou, “La nourriture”. But even then, certain practices challenge what could
seem to be a well-established custom. Besides Hecate’s meals at the crossroads, which
smell of garbage and excrement, a refined Lydian sauce called kandaulos, kandylos or
kandyle, which probably refers to a dish made out of the flesh of a puppy, is already men-
tioned in the 4th century bce: cf. Harvey, “Lydian Specialities”. But we are here in Lydia,
that is, temporally and spatially a distinct place.
24 Athenaeus 7, 325 A.
25 Sabbatucci, Saggio; Detienne, Dionysos, 163–207.
 greek and comparatist reflexions on food prohibitions 269

contrary, it was also part of a broader speculation implicating other cul-

tures as well.26

2. Greek Practices and Representations Related to Food

in the Mirror of Egypt

In Porphyry’s De abstinentia (IV 20), one finds a conceptualization of

purity that prefigures the one developed by Mary Douglas in Purity and
Danger: purity is defined as an “absence of mixture”, amixía, whereas pol-
lution is the result of such a mixture. It is in order to avoid getting mixed
with that one has to beware of consuming certain types of food. The ques-
tion, then, is this: not to get mixed with what? Porphyry answers: not to
mix the same (i.e., oneself ) with the other, or more precisely, with the
opposite; not to mix my living body with certain foods, and especially
animal flesh. Inasmuch as it implies the dead body of the animal, such
diet would amount to mixing up the eating, living being with the dead
being that is being eaten. Or, to put it differently, one should not mix up
the same with the allegorical principle that is hidden in the other, the
rejected food. Although it is not said so, this principle applies not just to
animals but also to some vegetables. In this passage, however, Porphyry
does not mention vegetables—such as, e.g., the broad bean, to mention
this famous instance. He only considers abstinence from meat, by com-
menting upon the famous text of Euripides’ Cretans (which he quotes in
IV 19); this passage has been acknowledged as witnessing to vegeterian
practices that compare with those in use in Orphic asceticism.27 According
to Porphyry’s commentary, holy men (namely, the bácchoi, the initiated
ones) set as a principle that purity consists of abstaining from mixing
oneself with one’s opposite. The agneía amounts to rejection (apóthesis)
and abstinence (áphexis) from the multiple as well as from all opposites
(tôn pollôn kaì enantíôn). It means the isolation (mónôsis) and the sei-
zure (lépsis) of what is familiar and naturally conforms (tôn oikeíôn kaì

26 Cf. among others van der Horst, Aspects of religious; Bonnet et al., Religioni in Cont-
atto; Borgeaud and Volokhine, “La formation”; Borgeaud et al., Interpretations of Moses.
27 Euripides, Cretans 472: (translation by Collard, Cropp and Lee): “Pure is the life
I have maintained since I became an initiate of Idaean Zeus and a herdsman of nocturnal
Zagreus, after performing feasts of raw flesh; and holding aloft torches to the mountain
mother among the Curetes I was named a celebrant after consecration. In clothing all of
white I shun both the birth of mortals and the laying-places of the dead, which I do not
approach; and I have guarded myself against the eating of living food.”
270 philippe borgeaud

prosphuôn). Starting with ritual prescriptions related to food thus logically

leads to enunciating sexual prescriptions: the condemnation of hetero- or
homosexual unions, as well as nightly pollutions, inasmuch as the latter
imply, from a masculine perspective, the ‘feminization’ of the soul and
thus a mixture of masculine and feminine (in addition to a mixture of
life/death, because of what is done with the sperm, which gets lost and
dies in the process).28 This concern with maintaining the integrity of the
same and protecting it from any interaction with something contrary or
contradictory accounts for the fact that, before our passage, Porphyry,
describing Spartan life as it was regulated by Lycurgus (cf. IV 3, 5), praises
certain measures, the effect of which is to avoid contacts between foreign-
ers (such as itinerant merchants, or other categories) and the population.
Fear of the contrary leads to fear of the other. We know that Plato (Leges
XII 950 A) and Plutarch (Lycurgus 27, 6–9) had already laid emphasis on
this fear. Still, it is in Egypt—in a land that, in Greek thought, is often
presented as paradigmatic—through the stoic writer Cheremo (Nero’s
contemporary) and in matters concerning priestly practices that Porphyry
will offer the most complete description of this concern with maintaining
the pure in its purity (see De abstinentia IV 6–8). The Egyptians, he states,
consider priests to be philosophers, who are withdrawn into temples just
as sacred animals are and mingle with other human beings only during
festivals (i.e., the only occasions when access to the temple is allowed to
anybody).
Their diet also was slender and simple. For, with respect to wine, some of
them did not at all drink it, but others drank very little of it . . . In many other
things also they conducted themselves with caution; neither using bread at
all in purifications, and at those times in which they were not employed in
purifying themselves, they were accustomed to eat bread with hyssop, cut
into small pieces. For it is said, that hyssop very much purifies the power of
bread. But they, for the most part, abstained from oil, the greater number
of them entirely; and if at any time they used it with pot-herbs, they took
very little of it, and only as much as was sufficient to mitigate the taste of
the herbs.29
These true ascetics classify taking a boat to leave Egypt as “a major impi-
ety . . . out of fidelity to ancestral customs; and any offence, even if light,

28 On Christian etiologies of this same condemnation, cf. Brakke, “The Problematisa-

tion” (quoted on p. 17 in Poorthuis et al., Purity and Holiness).
29 I am following here the translation by T. Taylor.
 greek and comparatist reflexions on food prohibitions 271

will mean exclusion.” Thus, they are “not allowed to eat any food or drink
produced out of Egypt.”
A vast area of pleasure is thus closed to them. Even in the case of prod-
ucts from Egypt itself, they abstain from any fish, solipedic quadrupeds
(horse, donkey), or fissipedic or non-horned ones; they also abstain from
carnivorous birds. Many even abstain from any animal, without excep-
tion, and this is valid for all priests during the times when purity is perma-
nently required; in such circumstances, according to Porphyry, they even
refuse eggs. In addition, they also abstain from all animals that are not
blameless. This is how, among bovine cattle, they reject females as well as
twin males, spotted, multicolored, or deformed males; the same applies to
those animals that have been under the yoke, because such animals were
consecrated by their work, and so on.
The first prohibition mentioned in the list of Egyptian products concerns
fish. This precedence, if we may say so, is not coincidental. One imme-
diately thinks of what Plutarch says in De Iside et Osiride (ch. 6, 353 C):
Egyptians abstain mainly from fish that comes out of the sea (ichthúôn
thalattíôn); this abstention has to do with the fact that such fish come
from elsewhere, from outside: “as the sea is away from our world, out
of our borders . . . a foreign body, both corrupt and unhealthy” (353 D).30
Egyptian evidence documents the fact that fish, in hieroglyphic writ-
ing, is used as a determinative for the word meaning ‘interdict’ (bwt).31
Egyptologists know that the reason for this is merely phonetic; still, fish, in
Egypt, just like pork, is the object of many prohibitions. The fact that fish
is absent from hieroglyphs used in the Pyramid Texts could be explained
by a prescription for ritual purity concerning the king only.32 Later, that
prescription was widened to the whole category of the initiated dead.
In chapter 64 of the Book of the Dead, one may thus read: “This formula
should be read when pure and blameless, without having eaten small

30 This, of course, should be put into relation with the myth of Isis and Osiris: Typho,
who is hunting by night under the moon, finds the chest; he cuts up Osiris’ body into
fourteen pieces, which he scatters; Isis finds all the pieces, except the male member, which
has been swallowed by the lepidot, the pagrus and the oxyrinch, which are now held to
be the most abominable of fish; she substitutes a simulacrum of the male member. Let us
note that Plutarch also translates the Osiris myth into Greek categories.
31 On this word, and the concept to which it refers (often translated with ‘taboo’), cf.
Montet, “Le fruit défendu”; Frandsen, “Tabu”; Frandsen, “Le fruit défendu”. On the alimen-
tary prohibitions in Egypt, cf. Meeks, “Pureté,” esp. col. 433ff.
32 We find the sign for the fish once in Pyr § 218c (N 537). Yet this passage is known in
four different versions, and only Niouserre’s version has the glyph for ‘fish’; the three others
replace it with phonetic signs. Cf. Sethe’s note in Pyramidentexte, 4.125.
272 philippe borgeaud

herd or fish, and without having had sexual relationship with a woman.”
Obviously this is an occasional prescription, and not an absolute or per-
manent prohibition. As a matter of fact, fish is not systematically avoided
as food in Egypt (neither is pork); the opposite is true. One may even
occasionally find fish on offering tables.33
Just as there are levels of language, let us remember that there are lev-
els of diet: to ‘sociolects’ correspond, therefore, ‘sociophacts’. Although
fish is standard food, we should not be surprised by its quasi-absence in
these royal texts par excellence, the Pyramid Texts. In the 8th century
bce, on the Victory Stele (l. 151), the Nubian pharaoh Piankhy specifies
that princes who had come to bring tributes were forbidden to enter the
palace because they were uncircumcised and eating fish: only the prince
Nimrod (Namart), who met the requirements of purity, could access the
Egyptian sovereign.34 Let us also note that fish and birds, in certain rituals,
are identified with the enemies of Egypt, ‘foreign invaders’. In some places
(i.e., Edfou, Kom Ombo, Esna), there even existed a rite of stamping fish
that was practiced before the temple or in the courtyard and that was used
in order to cast a charm and reduce potential enemies to powerlessness.
For our present purpose, it does not matter that Egyptian sources only
partially confirm the general picture sketched by Cheremo. That picture
is less oriented towards the ethnography of actual Egyptian practices than
towards a commentary that deals, from an Egyptian perspective, with cer-
tain mystic or ascetic practices of the Hellenes. As such, Cheremo sets
himself in an ancient tradition. Since Herodotus, Egypt and its priests func-
tion as a central paradigm—obviously not the only paradigm for ancient
Greeks authors, but the one par excellence, one that makes it possible to
reflect and comment upon the category of Greek sectarian prescriptions,
especially (albeit not exclusively) food prescriptions, such as broad beans
and fish. In this ancient tradition, Greece, as far as sectarian interdicts—
those of Pythagorean, Orphic and Bacchic movements—are concerned, is

33 For fish and Egypt, cf. Gamer-Wallert, Fische und Fischkulte. In Tanis, a twofold
statue of King Amenemhat III (reappropriated by Psusennes) was found, where the king
is figured as the Nile-god or as a personification of fecundity: he presents fish and plants on
an offering table (statue Cairo JE 18221 = General Catalogue no 392; cf. Borchardt, Statuen
and Statuetten, 9–11 and plate 63; Saleh and Sourouzian, Catalogue officiel, no 104). Fish
and poultry are offered to the gods on the occasion of the royal jubilee in Bubastis, under
Osorkon II: Naville, The Festival-Hall of Osorkon II, pls. XVIII and XXII. (These references
were given to me by Nicole Durisch and Youri Volokhine. I would like to thank them for
their assistance on Egyptological matters.)
34 Lichtheim, Ancient Egyptien Literature, 3.80; cf. Grimal, “La stele triomphale,” 176;
Ikram, Choice cuts, 35.
 greek and comparatist reflexions on food prohibitions 273

looked upon from Egypt. It will soon be the same with Judean practices,
where, just as in Egypt, we find again precisely the case of circumcision35
as well as restrictions regarding the pig (which, in Egypt, is presented
as Seth’s animal).36 Just as all of Egypt, according to Diodorus, tends
to behave like the Egyptian priests of Herodotus, one may ask whether
there is not another, complementary tendency among Greek and Roman
authors, which consists in representing the inhabitants of the Nile valley
as a priestly people who would behave, as a whole, like the people who,
among Hebrews, scrupulously observe the prescriptions of Leviticus.
Thus, Egypt, in Greek thought, represents a land of comparison, a com-
pulsory detour for ancient thinkers willing to have a look from outside
either at their own (i.e., Greek) customs or at the customs of others—
especially those of the inhabitants of Judea.37
Plutarch declares that “the Egyptians, who cut open the dead body and
expose it to the sun, and then cast certain parts of it into the river, and
perform their offices on the rest of the body, feeling that this part has now
at last been made clean” (Septem sapientium convivium 16, 159 B; transla-
tion by F. C. Babitt). Elsewhere, the same author develops the image of
fish and fishing along the same theme:
Nor is it easy to extract the hook of flesh-eating, entangled as it is and
embedded in the love of pleasure. And, like the Egyptians who extract the
viscera of the dead and cut them open in view of the sun, then throw them
away as being the cause of every single sin that the man had committed, it
would be well for us to excise our own gluttony and lust to kill and become
pure for the remainder of our lives. (De Esu Carnium 2, 996 E; translation by
H. Cherniss and W. C. Helmbold)
Taking up this tradition about entrails thrown into the river, Porphyry,
too, describes the ritual of embalming (De abstinentia IV 10, 3–5). On this
occasion, he records that declarations of innocence are stated, which are
nearly verbatim quotes from chapter 125 of the Egyptian Book of the Dead.38
This Greek account of an Egyptian ritual, in which the key episode turns

35 Since Herodotus (II 104), it seems obvious to Greeks that peoples that practice cir-
cumcision are of Egyptian (or possibly Ethiopian) origin.
36 Cf. infra, n. 39.
37 Hartog, Le miroir d’Hérodote; Hartog, Mémoire d’Ulysse.
38 Formulas uttered by one of the embalmers, speaking on behalf of the dead: “ ‘I have
honoured the gods as they should be, I have respected my parents. I did not kill, I did not
rob. . . . So if I committed in my life any fault, eating or drinking forbidden food, it is not me
who is at fault but them’; and he shows the box containing the viscera. Having so spoken,
he throws it in the river and embalms the rest of the corpse, looked upon as pure.”
274 philippe borgeaud

out to concern the special treatment of the bowels, thus offers an oppor-
tunity to develop a metaphor that presents the body itself and its passions
as an unfortunate fish, unable to reject or spit off the hook of desire that
leads it to death. The metaphor is all the more artful since this image of
desire, in Egyptian categories, is precisely what other texts describe as
belonging, in Greece, to opsophagia, the consumption of fish, this delicacy
whose consequence is to give up healthy and pure ‘primitive’ aliments
and values.
Long before Cheremo, Egyptian food customs had already been
described by Herodotus in relation (Hartog would say in ‘mirror’) to the
Greek model. One must distinguish, with Herodotus, a greater rigor apply-
ing to the rules that were meant for priests (for whom the prohibition of
fish, for instance, is absolute), whereas some degree of freedom is toler-
ated for the common people belonging to “these most religious mortals”
(II 37).39
In spite of the fact that, among Egyptians, all goes opposite to what
one finds elsewhere (the Egyptian world is, for the Greeks, a world upside
down), the Greek structure is nonetheless found again: “Whereas all oth-
ers live on wheat and barley (apò purôn kaì krithéôn), it is the greatest
disgrace for an Egyptian so to live; they make food from a coarse grain
which some call spelt (also called zeia: apò oluréôn poieûntai sitía tàs zeiàs
metexéteroi kaléousi). They knead dough with their feet, and gather mud
and dung with their hands”.40 The main meal of Egyptians, this spelt loaf,
kneaded with the feet, thus corresponds exactly to the Greek àrtos.
According to Herodotus (II 41), on whom Cheremo seems to depend,
Egyptians exclusively sacrifice male oxen and pure calves. Cows are con-
secrated to Isis (= Io). For this reason, an Egyptian, male or female, could
not kiss a Greek on the mouth, nor use a Greek’s knife, his spits or his

39 Herodotus II 37 (translation by Godley): “They are beyond measure religious, more

than any other nation; and these are among their customs:—They drink from cups of
bronze, which they cleanse out daily; this is done not by some but by all. They are espe-
cially careful ever to wear newly-washed linen raiment. They practise circumcision for
cleanliness’ sake; for they set cleanness above seemliness. Their priests shave the whole
body every other day, that no lice or aught else that is foul may infest them in their ser-
vice of the gods. The priests wear a single linen garment and sandals of papyrus: they may
take no other kind of clothing or footwear. Twice a day and twice every night they wash
in cold water . . . sacred food is cooked for them, to each man is brought every day flesh of
beeves and geese in great abundance, and wine of grapes too is given to them. They may
not eat fish.”
40 Herodotus, II 36.
 greek and comparatist reflexions on food prohibitions 275

cauldron; nor eat the flesh of an animal, even a pure one, if the latter had
been sacrificed using the knife of a Greek.

3. Purity between Greece, Egypt and Israel:

A “Theological Triangle”

This reference, reported to Herodotus by his informers in Sais, Naucratis

or Memphis, to the Egyptian concern for avoiding certain types of con-
tact with foreigners probably arose from concrete experiences. Although
Herodotus himself brings it down to an exposition of the specific conse-
quences of a taboo regarding cows dedicated to Isis, this reference none-
theless takes place within a certain ideological framework, from which
will soon emerge and develop in Alexandria a Greek discourse on exclu-
sivity, considered a scandalous attitude. This discourse will apply to the
dietary and ritual practices of a people described as Egyptian in origin, the
Judeans who founded Jerusalem after they left Egypt with Moses. In this
new discourse, Egypt becomes the ritual space from which, and in relation
to which, both Greek and Jewish practices are defined in their specificities
as well as in their contrasts. Cristiano Grottanelli has shown that one may
compare the passage in Herodotus describing Egyptian repulsion with
respect to Greek food practices with the narrative in Genesis (Gen 43:31–
33) showing Joseph eating alone at banquets because Egyptians would not
eat with Hebrews, for this (according to the text of Genesis) would be an
‘abomination’ to them. The same paradigm is at work in the scene from
the novel Joseph and Aseneth, where the Hebrew hero—who likewise eats
apart from Egyptians—refuses to kiss Aseneth under the pretext that the
girl’s mouth is unclean.41

We have already recalled that the Egypt that, in Greek thought, is seen
in relation to Pythagorean, Orphic and Bacchic dietary taboos, also hap-
pens to be, as early as Herodotus, the same country that condemns the
consumption of pork and from which circumcision originated. As regards
pork, Herodotus (II 47) pretends that if an Egyptian accidentally touches
a pig, he will dive into the river (the Nile or a canal) to wash away this
impurity. This obsessive fear of contact, of touching things—and not just
food—corresponds to the Pythagorean fear of contact with broad beans,

41 Grottanelli, “Aspetti del sacrificio”; cf. Grottanelli, “Carni proibite”. On Jewish alimen-
tary rules, cf. recently Noam, “The Dual Strategy”; Liss, “Ritual Purity”.
276 philippe borgeaud

as is illustrated by the famous tradition of Pythagoreans who, having

been ambushed, would rather die than escape through a field of broad
beans in bloom (Iamblichus, De vita Pythagorica 191; cf. Diogenes Laertius,
Pythagoras § 39). According to Herodotus (II 37), Egyptians share with
Pythagoreans this horror of broad beans, and this in spite of the fact that
there are none in their country, except for wild ones: “The Egyptians sow
no beans in their country; if any grow, they will not eat them either raw
or cooked; the priests cannot endure even to see them, considering beans
an unclean kind of pulse.” We know otherwise that this general interdict
of pork is not at all confirmed by Egyptian sources. It remains true that
in Egypt, pork was mainly food for the poor. This may be why the priestly
informants of Herodotus presented it as an abominable animal. In the
context of a report of Egyptian dietary customs to a foreigner, the food
for the poor became a forbidden one.42 It may have been the same for
broad beans in Egypt.43

The Pythagorean broad bean leads us to the borders of humanity. For

Pythagoreans and probably certain Orphics, the idea of eating broad
beans aroused a horror similar to the one that cannibalism would have
evoked.44 To crunch a broad bean induces a strong repulsion, which John
the Lydian compares to the repulsion that the idea of eating one’s parents’
head would induce.45 During the month of March, he says, one would

42 On pork in Egypt, cf. Ikram, Choice cuts, 29–33. In his conflict with Horus, Seth trans-
formed himself into a pig and it is under this aspect that he kicked Horus’ eye: cf. Coffin
Text, § 157. Pork was part of the common diet, in spite of the limited number of repre-
sentations of pigs in the royal or private monuments of the Ancient Empire. The reason
is the clear difference between ideological representations (where bovines dominate) and
economic realities: compare Garcia, “J’ai rempli les pâturages,” 257: “On a remarqué que,
de la même façon que la mobilité et la recherche de nouveaux pâturages assuraient aux
nomades une certaine autonomie par rapport aux systèmes politiques centralisés, les ren-
dements hauts et les faibles coups de l’élevage de porcs à petite échelle . . . permettaient
aux communautés rurales un degré similaire d’autonomie. En conséquence, ni l’élevage de
porcs ni la distribution de leurs produits n’étaient adaptés à l’organisation économique des
systèmes palatiaux du Proche Orient ancien, ce qui expliquerait une certaine hostilité de
ces systèmes à l’égard d’une ressource qu’ils ne contrôlaient pas et qui, pire encore, favori-
sait une certaine autonomie productive des plus démunis, hostilité évidente à la lumière
des tabous appliqués à la consommation de la viande du porc.” The same observation
would apply for Homeric Greece: the heroes in the Iliad are filled up with beef! Still, there
exists, but precisely outside of Ithaca’s palace, a divine pig-keeper.
43 Hartmann shows that broad beans indeed constituted food for the Egyptians:
L’agriculture, 54. Cf. Daumas “Gemüse”; and especially Keimer, Die Gartenpflanzen, 5–7.
44 Porphyry (Vita Pythagorae 44) is a good witness (cf. note 14). On the horror of can-
nibalism and accusations of ritual murder, see now Nagy, Qui a peur du cannibale?
45 John the Lydian, De mensibus IV 42; cf. Detienne, Jardins, 98.
 greek and comparatist reflexions on food prohibitions 277

hold broad-bean meals, as the bean (kúamos) was consecrated to Mars

because it gives birth (kúein) to blood. As a tribute to the god, one would
smear one’s eyes with the juice of broad beans, instead of blood. John
the Lydian then hints at the repulsion that those beans aroused among
Pythagoreans. Stimulating sexual appetite, the broad bean calls souls
to birth and thus to corruption. The same author quotes Heraklides the
Punic, for whom the bean, when it is covered up with excrement, takes
in forty days time the aspect of human flesh; this conception, according
to John the Lydian, would be the origin of the poet’s verse: “to eat broad
beans amounts to eating one’s parents’ head” (îsón toi kuámous te phageîn
kephalàs te tokéon). The poet, here, is Orpheus.46
Thus, everything was in place for the elaboration of a fundamental
theological ‘triangle’, a triangle that would emerge as soon as Judaism
became manifest to the Greeks and in which Egypt, Greece and Judaea
were considered, theologically, as inter-dependent entities. The origins
of this comparative model go back as far as the Ptolemaic period and
should certainly be sought in Alexandria. As a matter of fact, comparison
between anthropomorphic Greece, theriomorphic Egypt and monotheis-
tic and aniconic Judaea may be found in the earliest version of Hellenistic
narratives about Moses. According to the story by Hecataeus of Abdera,
a pestilential plague once struck Egypt; the people were certain that the
cause was the presence of too many foreigners practicing various rituals,
which were likely to corrupt the traditional practice. Accordingly, mea-
sures for the expulsion of foreigners were taken:
Among the expatriates, the most distinguished, the most valiant ones got
together in gangs and were thrown out, they say, into Greece and some
other places, under the guidance of their eminent leaders, of whom Danaus
and Cadmus were the most famous. But the plebeian mass migrated into the
country called Judaea today, quite near Egypt, but a total desert at the time.
At the head of this colony, a character named Moses, distinguished by his
wisdom as well as his courage. . . .
So Moses leaves Egypt in order to found Jerusalem and install a mono-
theistic, non-anthropomorphic religion,47 and this at the very same time
that these ancestors of great cities, Danaus and Cadmus, were heading
toward Greece.

46 Fr. 648F = 291K. This rich dossier, together with its variants, can be found in Bernabé,
Poetae Epici Graeci, II, 2, 214–18.
47 “He made no image of the gods, persuaded that the divinity had no human figure; he
thought heaven which surrounds the earth is the only god and master of the universe.”
278 philippe borgeaud

In Manetho’s version, Moses is not an expelled foreigner who became

oikistés, the founder of Jerusalem. He is painted as an Egyptian priest from
Heliopolis named Osarsiph. He leads an expedition against Egypt, in which
leprous Egyptian refugees in Avaris mix with inhabitants of Jerusalem—a
town founded in the past by the Hyksos, who had been themselves pre-
viously expelled from Egypt. This expedition threatens Egyptian cults
directly: the pharaoh must shelter the sacred animals and cultural images
(the xoana) of the gods.
The Solymites and impure Egyptians they had brought back with them
behaved with such impiety that the domination of the ancient pastors (the
Hyksos) appeared as a golden age to the witnesses of their sacrileges; not
only did they burn towns and villages, plunder temples, and defile gods’ stat-
ues, but they even made sanctuaries into kitchens where they roasted sacred
animals, forced priests and soothsayers to act as sacrificers and butchers and
then chased them, naked.
We know from Yoyotte’s and Assmann’s studies that this type of narra-
tive belongs to the traditional Egyptian rhetoric dealing with the Asiatic
invader.48
At the time of Augustus, Trogue-Pompey (abbreviated in Justin 36, 2)
will turn Moses into Joseph’s son. The Egyptians, who were stricken with
leprosy, ejected him from their state on the advice of their gods, and with
him all those who were contaminated with such an infectious illness, for
fear that it might infect still others. This is how Moses, who was thus con-
demned to be the leader of the banned people, “stole things that were
used for the sacrifices of the Egyptians”;49 when the latter tried to recu-
perate them, they were forced to turn back because of the furious tem-
pests that stopped their pursuit. Moses thus takes with him from Egypt
all the utensils required for ritual cooking. He steals what constitutes him,
in religious categories, as an Egyptian—at least from the perspective of
the Greek tradition about Egypt that starts with Herodotus. This may be
an aberrant interpretation; but it is a very clever one, since it seems to
echo the enigmatic mention of golden and silver utensils that, together
with clothes, were ‘borrowed’ from Egyptians by Hebrew men and women
according to the account of Exodus (see Exod 3:21–22; 11:1–2; 12:35).

48 Yoyotte, “L’Egypte”; Assmann, Moses the Egyptian; cf. Schäfer, Judeophobia, 15–33. On
all this see also Borgeaud, Aux origines; Borgeaud et al., Interprétations de Moïse.
49 Dux igitur exulum factus sacra Aegyptiorum furto abstulit, quae repetentes armis
Aegyptii domum redire tempestatibus compulsi sunt.
 greek and comparatist reflexions on food prohibitions 279

Parallel to this Hebrew Moses (son of Joseph) who, according to

Trogue-Pompey, steals the ritual objects of the Egyptian cult, another ver-
sion, just as aberrant, is preserved by Strabo (XVI § 35). This time, Moses
is presented as an Egyptian priest who went to Judea because he had
become disgusted with the institutions of his country; a great number of
men who honored the divinity left the country with him. According to
Strabo, Moses said and taught that Egyptians and Libyans were mad to
pretend that they could represent the divinity under the figure of fero-
cious or domestic animals, and Greeks were no wiser when they gave to
that divinity a human figure; in his view, the divinity was no more than
what envelops us, earth and sea, what we call ‘heaven’, ‘world’, or ‘nature’.
Here, the above-mentioned theological ‘triangle’ between Egypt, Greece
and Jerusalem is explicit.
Either hostile, like Manetho’s, or laudatory, as in the case of Strabo’s,
the Greek perspective considers the rules and prohibitions observed
by Judeans to be an intentional inversion of the abandoned norm (the
Egyptian norm). It is a very different inversion from the one that the
Egyptians themselves—who, as noted above, do everything upside down
without any consciousness of it—have always entertained spontaneously,
and innocently, in relation to the Greeks.
The extreme theorization of this practice of inversion and alternation
can be found in the writings of Tacitus, who, in his Historiae (5, 4–5),
imagines a Moses instituting rituals that are both new (with all the scan-
dalous dimension this may involve for a Roman) and contrary to those
rituals practiced by the rest of humankind. The profane becomes sacred,
and the reverse. The licit also becomes illicit. The effigy of a donkey, says
Tacitus, was consecrated in the most withdrawn place in the sanctuary
of Jerusalem. This refers to an ancient tradition, recorded under a differ-
ent form by Diodorus (34, 1–3, an extract from Photius), who may quote
Posidonius.50 But whereas Tacitus implies a cult of the donkey, the tra-
dition that Diodorus records describes the statue of a man with a long
beard, riding a donkey, a book in hand: this was Moses. In this narrative,
Antiochus sacrificed an enormous sow whose blood he spilled in front of
the statue and whose fat he had extracted so as to stain the holy books,
precisely those same books filled up with the rules that would inspire the

50 According to Reinach, Textes, 56, Diodorus quoted Posidonius. For the tradition
about the donkey in the temple, from the perspective of reactions and anti-reactions to
this tradition, cf. Borgeaud, “Quelques remarques,” in Borgeaud et al., Interprétations de
Moïse.
280 philippe borgeaud

Judeans’ hatred for foreigners. Finally, Antiochus forced the high priest
and the other Jews to eat the flesh of the victim. Thus described by a
Greek author, this monstrous ritual should, of course, be related to the
Jewish tradition concerning the edict proclaimed by Antiochus IV and the
erection of the ‘abomination of desolation’ upon the altar of sacrifices in
Jerusalem (see 1 Macc 1:41–54);51 but it may also be viewed as a narrative
transformation (if not an ideological consequence) of the Alexandrian
anti-Jewish tradition as recorded by Manetho. According to this tradition,
Moses had forced Egyptian priests to sacrifice and cook the sacred animals
in the temples, which had been transformed into grill houses (optaníois).
Besides, the narrative of Posidonius also constitutes the earliest non-
Jewish text referring to the Jewish prohibition against eating pork—a pro-
hibition that Greeks, until then, thought they could observe in Egypt.
At the heart of the ritual, sacrificial cooking appears both as an anthro-
pological and a political “operator”. With the Jewish sacrifice, as it was
understood by Theophrastus,52 we have the earliest witness of a Greek
view on Judaism:
Nevertheless, says Theophrastus, though the Syrians [of Judaea] (Ioudaîoi),
because of their original mode of sacrifice (thusía), continue to offer ani-
mal sacrifices (zôiothutoûntes) at the present time, if any one were to bid
us sacrifice (thúein) in the same way, we should revolt from the practice.
For instead of feasting upon what had been sacrificed, they made a whole
burnt-offering (holokautoûntes) of it by night, and by pouring much honey
and wine over it they consumed the sacrifice more quickly, in order that
even the all-seeing sun (ho panóptes) might not be a spectator of the dread-
ful deed.
And while doing this they fast throughout the intermediate days (the
duration of the day); and all this time, as being a nation of philosophers,
they converse with one another about the Deity (perì toû theíou mèn allèlois
laloûsin: a phrase where the verb laleîn has the same meaning as in the LXX),
and at night they contemplate the heavenly bodies, looking up to them, and
calling upon God in prayers (diâ tôn euchôn theoklutoûntes). For these were
the first to dedicate (katérxanto) both the other animals, and themselves,

51 Cf., among others, Berthelot, Philanthrôpia judaica, 152.

52 Theophrastus, De pietate, quoted by Porphyry, De abstinentia II 26, Porphyry being
himself quoted by Eusebius, Praeparatio evangelica IX 2. The English translation below
follows E. H. Gifford. Eusebius’ text could credit the idea that the Ioudaioi have been intro-
duced in the text as a gloss, posterior to Theophrastus’ gloss. Eusebius’ manuscript tradi-
tion seems to be generally better than Porphyry’s. But Porphyry’s text, in this passage from
De abstinentia, is in no way questionable. What seems to be the issue is rather the content
of practices and beliefs Theophrastus attributes to the Jews (or Judeans). I note that nei-
ther Bernays nor Stern refuses the attribution of this testimony to Theophrastes.
 greek and comparatist reflexions on food prohibitions 281

which last they did from necessity and not from any desire. On that mat-
ter, it would be a rich lesson to observe the wisest people in the world, the
Egyptians: they are so far from killing only one of these animals that they
rather make images of the gods out of their figure, so true it is that they
consider them to be appropriated to, and akin with, gods and humans.
From this perspective, there would be something like a history or an ideal
pre-history of bloody sacrifice. The first state (the earliest one) would cor-
respond to the Egyptian attitude, supposedly perfectly abstinent (vegeta-
ble sacrifices); the second state, to the animal (or even human) sacrifice,
but without consumption of the meat by the officiants (the Jewish sac-
rifice, the holocaust); and the third state, to the sacrifice of the animal,
followed by its consumption.53
We shall note, following Jacob Bernays,54 that Theophrastus makes
Judaeans the philosophical caste of the Syrians,55 like Brahmans are for the
Indians, and like priests, in Cheremo’s work, will be for the Egyptians.
We should also note that what is said here about the holocaust cor-
responds more or less to the ’olah ritual as it is described in Leviticus.56
However, the libation of honey and wine is embarrassing. Plutarch, for
his part (Quaestiones convivales IV 6, 2, 672 B), does not ignore that honey
and wine are incompatible for Jews according to the teaching (tôrah) of
Leviticus.57
What seems to me to be noteworthy, from the Greek point of view, is
that we have to do in this case with a sacrifice through total consecra-
tion (and thus total destruction) of the victim. According to Rudhardt,
the holocaust is very rarely named thus in classical Greek.58 It is a specific
form of ritual action, more frequently designated with the verb kathagizein,
which means ‘annihilation,’ usually by means of the total combustion of
a vegetable or animal offering. After a victory or a death, it is a ritual of a
funerary nature.59

53 Cf., on that matter, Obbinck, “The Origin”.

54 Bernays, Theophrastos’ Schrift, 111 (followed by Stern, Greek and Latin Authors, 10).
55 Cf. also Megasthenes (Indikà quoted by Clement, Stromata I 15, 72, 5 = 715 F 3 Jacoby),
and the Peripatetician Clearchus of Soli (Peri hupnou quoted by Josephus, Contra Apionem
I 179 = Fr. 6 Wehrli vol. 3).
56 6:2–6. Cf. also Lev 1:1; Josephus, Antiquitates Judaicae III 224–225.
57 Cf. Lev 2:11.
58 Rudhardt, Notions fondamentales, 287, referring to Xenophon, Cyropaedia VIII 3, 24
[Iranian sacrifice, under the leadership of magi]; Xenophon, Anabasis VII 8, 4, 5 [sacrifice
of piglets to Zeus Meilichios]; Plutarch, Moralia 694b; cf. Hesychius s.v. holokautôma.
59 Cf. Rudhardt, Notions fondamentales, 236–38; and the dossier Jameson et al., updated:
A Lex sacra, 18–20; cf. Parker, “Hos heroi enagizein”.
282 philippe borgeaud

In the description that Theophrastus gives, it is a sacrifice without shar-

ing, without any part being put aside for human officiants or the funding
community. The meal, if there is any, is the meal of the god alone. This
amounts to a variant of absolute vegetarianism, a way, just as radical,
to refuse the consumption of flesh.60 Is it not precisely as an example
of the reticence to eat the victims’ flesh, or even as evidence of a ritual
equivalent to a critique of bloody sacrifices of the thusía type, that this
text of Theophrastus reached us through Porphyry, as well as through
Eusebius? Theophrastus emphasizes that Judaeans were the first to intro-
duce a bloody sacrifice. It is this first sacrifice that is the matter at stake
in this passage, together with the repulsion that it induces in officiants
obliged, against their will, to effectuate it for reasons that, unhappily, are
not expounded. Inasmuch as in Theophrastus it is also a question of the
introduction of human sacrifices, one may wonder if we are not dealing
here with a counterfeited memory of Hebraic tradition about Isaac’s sac-
rifice (the binding of Isaac).
Identity is built through relationship to others, so that alimentary
choices become all the more significant when they are looked upon from
afar and when they become the object of an outsider’s observation. A
famous passage from Seneca’s text on Shabbat (as recorded by Augustine
in De civitate Dei VI 11) is particularly revealing about what this detour
through the customs of others may produce in terms of the thinking of
ancient authors on their own practices. Here is what Seneca says after
he has deplored the introduction into Roman practice of many Jewish
customs, Shabbat included: “If Jews know of their rite’s reasons, most of
the (Roman) people practice (this same rite), although not knowing why”
(Illi tamen causas ritus sui noverunt; maior pars populi facit, quod cur faciat
ignorat). This implies the belief that one may obey rules or interdicts
while being fully aware of the reasons for one’s choices (the causae ritus
sui). The only condition for such lucidity would be to have always scrupu-
lously respected the invariability of ancestral customs. Were Greeks and
Romans sometimes able to keep that condition as Egyptians and Jews
could? Seneca might have answered negatively. It does not matter. It is

60 The secret character of the ritual described by Theophrastus may echo a tradition
close to the one reported about Gideon, in the book of Judges, 6:25: “. . . that night, Yhwh
told him: ‘take the bull which belongs to your father and cut down the Asherah beside it;
then, build a proper kind of altar to Yhwh, your god, on the top of this height, and offer the
second bull as a burnt offering, using the wood of the Asherah you cut down’. So Gideon
took ten men from his servants and did as Yhwh had told him; but he feared doing it by
day, because of his father’s house and men in the town; he did it by night.”
 greek and comparatist reflexions on food prohibitions 283

left to us to understand how such fidelity to custom, be it imaginary or

real, could, according to Seneca, result in the knowledge of the reason
for the cultural choice, an awareness of the cause underlying both ritual
interdicts and preferences. It amounts to saying that, in order to know,
one would have not to leave home; to stay in the village or, otherwise, not
to return, to paraphrase a Pythagorean ‘symbol’: “When one goes travel-
ling, not to return to the border.”61

In this respect, we would have here a condemnation, constitutive of practice

and reacting in advance to any relativist critique, of the comparative activ-
ity. This resistance, among certain ancient authors, to the efforts of think-
ers and tradents, a resistance more fundamental than all that Herodotus,
Plutarch and Porphyry say, is a matter that deserves further study.

Bibliography

André, Jacques. L’alimentation et la cuisine à Rome. Etudes et commentaires 39. 2d ed.

Paris: Klincksieck, 1981.
Arbesmann, Rudolphus. “Fasten.” Pages 447–92 in vol. 7 of Das Reallexikon für Antike und
Christentum. Edited by B. Kötting. 23 vols. Stuttgart: Hiersemann, 1994.
——. Das Fasten bei den Griechen und Römern. Religionsgeschichtliche Versuche und
Vorarbeiten 21,1. Giessen: Töpelmann, 1929.
Aristophanes. Frogs. Trans. J. Henderson. Loeb Classical Library, vol. 180. Cambridge Mass.:
Harvard University Press, 2002.
Assmann, Jan. Moses the Egyptian: The Memory of Egypt in Western Monotheism. Cambridge,
Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1997.
Bernabé Pejares, Alberto. Poetae epici Graeci: Testimonia et fragments, Pars II Fasc. 1–2:
Orphicorum et Orphicis similium fragmenta. Bibliotheca Scriptorum Graecorum et
Romanorum Teubneriana. Munich: Sauer, 2004–2005.
Bernays, Jacob. Theophrastos’ Schrift über Frömmigkeit: Ein Beitrag zur Religionsgeschichte:
Mit kritischen und erklärenden Bemerkungen zu Porphyrios‘ Schrift ‘Über Enthaltsamkeit’.
Berlin: Hertz, 1866.
Berthelot, Katell. Philanthrôpia judaica: Le débat autour de la ‘misanthropie’ des lois juives
dans l’antiquité. Journal for the Study of Judaism: Supplements 76. Leiden: E. J. Brill,
2003.
Bonnet, Corinne, Sergio Ribichini, and Dirk Steuernagel, eds. Religioni in Contatto nel
Mediterraneo Antico: Modalità di diffusion e processi di interferenza: Atti del 3° colloquio
su ‘Le religioni oriental nel mondo Greco e Romano’: Loveno di Menaggio (Como), 26–28
maggio 2006. Mediterranea 4. Rome: Fabrizio Serra, 2008.
Borchardt, Ludwig. Statuen und Statuetten von Königen und Privatleuten im Museum
Kairo. 5 vols. Catalogue général des antiquités égyptiennes du Musée du Caire. Berlin:
Reichsdruck, 1924.

61 Pythagorean symbol, Diogenes Laertius, Life of Pythagoras VIII 17. We note the way
that this ‘symbol’ makes us think of Loth as well as of Eurydices.
284 philippe borgeaud

Borgeaud, Philippe. “Quelques remarques sur Typhon, Seth, Moïse et son âne, dans la per-
spective d’un dialogue réactif transculturel.” Pages 173–85 in Interprétations de Moïse:
Égypte, Judée, Grèce et Rome. Jerusalem Studies in Religion and Culture 10. Leiden:
E. J. Brill, 2010.
——, Thomas Römer, and Youri Volokhine, eds. Interprétations de Moïse: Égypte, Judée,
Grèce et Rome. Jerusalem Studies in Religion and Culture 10. Leiden: E. J. Brill, 2010.
——. “Une rhétorique antique du blâme et de l’éloge: La religion des autres.” Pages 69–89
in La norme en matière religieuse en Grèce ancienne: Actes du XIe colloque international
du CIERGA (Rennes, septembre 2007). Kernos: Supplément 21. Edited by P. Brûlé. Liège:
Centre International d’Étude de la Religion Grecque Antique, 2009.
——. Aux origines de l’histoire des religions. La librairie du XXe siècle. Paris: Seuil, 2004.
——, Youri Volokhine. “La formation de la légende de Sarapis: Une approche transcul-
turelle.” Archiv für Religionsgeschichte 2 (2000): 37–76.
——. “Réflexions grecques sur les interdits alimentaires (entre l’Egypte et Jérusalem).”
Pages 95–121 in Food and Identity in the Ancient World. History of the Ancient Near East:
Studies 9. Edited by C. Grottanelli and L. Milano. Padua: Sargon, 2004.
Brakke, David. “The Problematization of nocturnal emissions in Early Christian Syria,
Egypt and Gaul.” Journal of Early Christian Studies 3 (1995): 419–60.
Bruit, Louise, and Pauline Schmitt-Pantel. “Citer, classer, penser: À propos des repas des
Grecs et des repas des autres dans le livre IV des Deipnosophistes d’Athénée.” Annali
Istituto Orientale di Napoli: Sezione di Archeologia e Storia Antica 8 (1986): 203–21.
Bruit Zaidman, Louise. Le commerce des Dieux: Eusebeia, essai sur la piété en Grèce anci-
enne. Textes à l’appui: Série Histoire classique. Paris: Découverte, 2001.
Burkert, Walter. Weisheit und Wissenschaft: Studien zu Pythagoras, Philolaos und Platon.
Erlanger Beiträge zur Sprach- und Kunstwissenschaft 10. Nuremberg: Carl, 1962.
Cambiano, Giuseppe, and Luciana Repici. “Cibo e forme di sussistenza in Platone, Aristotele
e Didearco.” Pages 81–90 in Homo edens: Regimi, miti e pratiche dell’alimentazione nella
civiltà del Mediterraneo. Documenti. Edited by O. Longo and P. Scarpi. Verona: Diapress,
1989.
Casadio, Giovanni. “I Cretesi di Euripide e l’ascesi orfica.” Didattica del Classico 2 (1990):
278–310.
Collard, Christopher, M. J. Cropp and K. H. Lee, eds. Euripides. Selected Fragmentary Plays.
Warminster: Aris & Phillips, 2009: 59–61.
Daumas F. “Gemüse.” Columns 521–24 in vol. 2 of Lexikon der Ägyptologie. Edited by
W. Helck and W. Wolfhart. 7 vols. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 1977.
Davidson, James. “Opsophagia: Revolutionary Eating at Athens.” Pages 204–13 in Food in
Antiquity. Edited by J. Wilkins, D. Harvey and M. Dobson. Exeter: University of Exeter
Press, 1996.
Detienne, Marcel. Dionysos mis à mort. Les Essais 195. Paris: Gallimard, 1977.
——. Les jardins d’Adonis: La mythologie des aromates en Grèce. Bibliothèque des histoires.
Paris: Gallimard, 1972.
——. “La cuisine de Pythagore.” Archives de Sociologie des Religions 29 (1970): 141–62.
Diogenes Laertius. Lives of Eminent Philosophers. Trans. R. D. Hicks. Loeb Classical Library,
vol. 185. Cambridge Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1958.
Euripides. Children of Heracles, Hippolytus, Andromache, Hecuba. Trans. D. Kovacs. Loeb
Classical Library, vol. 484. Cambridge Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1995.
Eusebius of Caesarea. Preparation for the Gospel. Trans. E. H. Gifford. London: Oxford
University Press, 1903.
Frandsen, Paul J. “Le fruit défendu dans l’Egypte ancienne.” Bulletin de la Société
d’Égyptologie Geneve 25 (2003): 57–74.
——. “Tabu.” Pages 134–42 in vol. 6 of Lexikon der Ägyptologie. Edited by W. Helck and
O. Eberhard. 7 vols. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 1986.
Gamer-Wallert, Ingrid. Fische und Fischkulte im Alten Ägypten. Ägyptologische
Abhandlungen 21. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 1970.
 greek and comparatist reflexions on food prohibitions 285

Graf, Fritz and Sarah I. Johnston. Ritual Texts for the Afterlife: Orpheus and the Bacchic Gold
Tablets. London: Routledge, 2007.
Grimal, Nicolas. La stèle triomphale de Pi(‘ankh)y au Musée du Caire: JE 48862 et 47086–
17089. Mémoires de l’Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale du Caire 105. Cairo:
l’Institut Français d’Archéologie Orientale, 1981.
Grottanelli, Cristiano. “Carni proibite (a cominciare dal bue).” Scienze dell’Antichita 5
(1991): 335–50.
——. “Aspetti del sacrificio nel mondo greco e nella Biblia ebraica.” Pages 153–55 in
Sacrificio e società nel mondo antico. Collezione storica. Edited by C. Grottanelli and
N. Parise. Rome: Laterza & Figli, 1988.
Hartmann, Fernande. L’agriculture dans l’Ancienne Egypte. Paris: Librairie imprimerie rèu-
nies, 1923.
Hartog, Francois. Mémoires d’Ulysse: Récits sur la frontière en Grèce ancienne. NRF essays.
Paris: Gallimard, 1996.
——. Le miroir d’Hérodote: Essai sur la représentation de l’autre. Bibliothèque des histoires.
Rev. and enl. 2d ed. Paris: Gallimard, 1991.
Harvey, Davies. “Lydian Specialties, Croesus’ Golden Baking-Woman, and Dogs’ Dinners.”
Pages 273–85 in Food in Antiquity. Edited by J. Wilkins, D. Harvey and M. Dobson.
Exeter: University of Exeter Press, 1996.
Hausleiter, Johannes. Der Vegetarismus in der Antike. Religionsgeschichtliche Versuche
und Vorarbeiten 24. Berlin: Töpelmann, 1935.
Herodotus. Herodotus in Four Volumes. Trans. A. D. Godley. Loeb Classical Library, vol. 117.
Cambridge Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1960.
Horst, Pieter W. van der, ed. Aspects of Religious Contact and Conflicts in the Ancient World.
Utrechtse theologische reeks 31. Utrecht: Faculteit der Godgeleerdheid, Universiteit
Utrecht, 1995.
Ikram, Salima. Choice Cuts: Meat Production in Ancient Egypt. Orientalia Lovaniensia ana-
lecta 69. Leuven: Peeters, 1995.
Jameson, Michael H., David R. Jordan, and Roy D. Rotansky. A ‘Lex Sacra’ from Selinous.
Greek, Roman and Byzantine Monographs 11. Durham, N.C.: Duke University, 1993.
Keimer, Ludwig. Die Gartenpflanzen im alten Ägypten: Vol. 2. Deutsches archäologisches
Institut Abteilung Kairo: Sonderschrift 13. Mainz, on the Rhine: von Zabern, 1984.
Kenneth Sylvan Guthrie. The Pythagorean Sourcebook and Library. An Anthology of Ancient
Writings which Relate to Pythagoras and Pythagorean Philosophy. Texts compiled and
translated by K. S. Guthrie et al. Edited by D. Fideler. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Phanes Press,
1987.
Kern, Otto. Orphicorum fragmenta. Berlin: Weidmann, 1922.
Lichtheim, Miriam. Ancient Egyptian Literature: Vol. 3: A Book of Readings. Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1980.
Liss, Hanna. “Ritual Purity and the Construction of Identity: The Literary Function of
the Laws of Purity in the Book of Leviticus.” Pages 329–54 in The Books of Leviticus
and Numbers. Bibliotheca ephemeridum theologicarum Lovaniensium 215. Edited by
T. Römer. Leuven: 2008.
Macris, Constantinos. “Le pythagorisme érigé en hairesis, ou comment (re)construire une
identité philosophique: Remarques sur un aspect méconnu du projet pythagoricien de
Iamblique.” Pages 139–68 in Entre lignes de partage et territoires de passage: Les identi-
ties religieuses dans les mondes grec et romain: ‘Paganismes’, ‘judaïsmes’, ‘christianismes’.
Collection de la Revue des Etudes Juives 47. Edited by N. Belayche and S. C. Mimouni.
Leuven: Peeters, 2009.
——. “ ‘Sectes’ et identité dans le monde antique: Bref tour d’horizon accompagné de
quelques ébauches de réflexion.” Pages 23–40 in Entre lignes de partage et territoires
de passage: Les identities religieuses dans les mondes grec et romain: ‘Paganismes’,
‘judaïsmes’, ‘christianismes’. Collection de la Revue des Etudes Juives 47. Edited by
N. Belayche and S. C. Mimouni. Leuven: Peeters, 2009.
286 philippe borgeaud

Meeks, Dimitri. “Pureté et purification en Égypte.” Columns 430–52 in Dictionnaire de la

Bible: Supplément 9. Edited by L. Pirot. Paris: Letouzey et Ané, 1979.
Montet, Pierre. “Le fruit défendu.” Kêmi: Revue de philologie et d’archéologie égyptiennes et
coptes 11 (1950): 85–116.
Moreno Garcia, Juan Carlos. “ ‘J’ai rempli les pâturages de vaches tachetées . . .’: Bétail, écon-
omie royale et idéologie en Égypte, de l’Ancien au Moyen Empire.” Revue d’Egyptologie
50 (1999): 241–57.
Nagy, Agnès A. Qui a peur du cannibale? Récits antiques d’anthropophages. Bibliothèque de
l’École des Hautes Études: Sciences Religieuses 140. Turnhout, Belgium: Brepols, 2009.
Naville, Edouard. The Festival-Hall of Osorkon II. in the Great Temple of Bubastis: (1887–1889).
Memoir of the Egypt Exploration Fund 10. London: Kegan Paul, 1892.
Noam, Vered. “The Dual Strategy of Rabbinic Purity Legislation.” Journal for the Study of
Judaism 39, 4–5 (2008): 471–612.
Obbinck, Dick. “The Origin of Greek Sacrifice: Theophrastus on Religion and Cultural
History.” Pages 272–95 in Theophrastean Studies on Natural Science: Physics and
Metaphysics, Ethics, Religion and Rhetoric. Rutgers University: Rutgers University Studies
in Classical Humanities 3. Edited by W. W. Fortenbaugh and R. W. Sharples. New
Brunswick: Transaction Books, 1988.
Parker, Robert. “Hos heroi enagizein.” Pages 37–45 in Greek Sacrificial Ritual, Olympian
and Chthonian: Proceedings of the Sixth International Seminar on Ancient Greek Cult,
Organized by the Department of Classical Archaeology and Ancient History, Göteborg
University, 25–27 April 1997. Skrifter utgivna av Svenska Institutet i Athen: 8, 18 Edited
by R. Hägg and B. Alroth. Stockholm: Åström, 2005.
——. Miasma: Pollution und Purification in Early Greek Religion. Oxford: Clarendon Press,
1983.
Plato. Laws: Books I–VI. Trans. R. G. Bury. Loeb Classical Library, vol. 187. Cambridge Mass.:
Harvard University Press, 1961.
——. The Republic: Books I–V. Trans. P. Shorey. Loeb Classical Library, vol. 237. Cambridge
Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1963.
Plutarch. Moralia: 86B–171F. Trans. F. C. Babitt. Loeb Classical Library, vol. 222. Cambridge
Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1971.
——. Moralia: 920A–999B. Trans. H. Cherniss and W. C. Helmbold. Loeb Classical Library,
vol. 406. Cambridge Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1957.
Poorthuis Marcel J. H. M., and Joshua Schwartz, eds. Purity and Holiness: The Heritage of
Leviticus. Jewish and Christian Perspectives Series 2. Leiden: Brill, 2000.
Porphyry. On Abstinence from Animal Food. Trans. Th. Taylor. Edited by E. Wynne-Tyson.
London: Centaur Press, 1965.
Purcell, Nicholas. “Eating Fish: The Paradoxes of Seafood.” Pages 132–49 in Food in
Antiquity. Edited by J. Wilkins, D. Harvey and M. Dobson. Exeter: University of Exeter
Press, 1996.
Reinach, Théodore, ed. Textes d’auteurs grecs et romains relatifs au judaïsme. L’arbre de
Judée 14. Paris Leroux: 1895. Repr., Paris: Belles Lettres, 2007.
Riedweg, Christophe. Pythagoras: His Life, Teaching and Influence. Ithaca, London: Cornell
University Press, 2005.
Rudhardt, Jean. Notions fondamentales de la pensée religieuse et actes constitutifs du culte
dans la Grèce classique: Etude préliminaire pour aider à la compréhension de la piété athé-
nienne au IVème siècle. Geneva: Librairie E. Croz, 1958. Repr., Paris: Picard, 1992.
Sabbatucci, Dario. Saggio sul misticismo Greco. Studi e materiali di storia delle religioni:
Quaderni 4. Rome: Edizioni dell’Ateneo & Bizzarri, 1965.
Saleh, Mohamed, Hourig Sourouzian, and Jürgen Liepe. Catalogue official: Musée Egyptien
du Caire. Mainz, on the Rhine: von Zabern, 1987.
Scarpi, Paolo. “Interdizioni alimentari confini e tassonomie nelle pratiche di culto delle
religioni del mondo classico.” Food & History 6 (2008): 47–55.
 greek and comparatist reflexions on food prohibitions 287

Schäfer, Peter. Judeophobia: Attitudes toward the Jews in the Ancient World. Cambridge,
Mass.: Havard University Press, 1997.
Sethe, Kurt Heinrich. Die Altaegyptischen Pyramidentexte, nach den Papierabdrücken und
Photographien des Berliner Museums neu herausgegeben und erläutert von Kurt Sethe.
4 vols. Repr., Hildesheim: Olms, 1969.
Stern, Menahem, ed. Greek and Latin Authors on Jews and Judaism: Vol. 1: From Herodotus
to Plutarch. Publications of the Israel Academy of Sciences and Humanities. Jerusalem:
Israel Academy of Sciences and Humanities, 1974.
Wächter, Theodor. Reinheitsvorschriften im griechischen Kult. Religionsgeschichtliche
Versuche und Vorarbeiten 9,1. Giessen: Töpelmann, 1910.
Yoyotte, Jean. “L’Egypte ancienne et les origines de l’antijudaïsme.” Revue de l’histoire des
religions 163 (1963): 133–43.
Zografou, Athanassia. “La nourriture et les repas dans les Papyri Graecae Magicae.” Food
& History 6 (2008): 57–72.
 SACRAL PURITY AND SOCIAL ORDER IN ANCIENT ROME

Bernhard Linke

Once a year the effigy of Athena was removed from its old temple in order
to be ceremoniously conducted down to the sea, where it was ritually
cleansed.1 For the duration of this ritual, every other temple in the city
of Athens was closed, owing to the belief that the absence of the god-
dess was a bad portent that might signify the intrusion of impurity into
the city. Although the Athenians believed more than other Greeks in the
presence of ‘their goddess’ in their city, they nevertheless deemed it nec-
essary to protect this special relationship from any pollution through a
cyclic purification of the cult statue, in order to preserve its sacral power.
A similar ritual was applied to the cult garment of the statue of Athena
in the Parthenon, the peplos, which was newly woven every four years
and was then presented to the goddess during the great Panathenaea.2 In
the context of this splendid procession, the citizenry of Athens assembled
according to their social status and collectively crossed the public space
to deliver the new garment to their goddess and to reconstitute the link
between her and the city. Therefore, even the items in immediate prox-
imity to the goddess had to be cleansed, as they were in danger of being
tainted by human presence, which could impair their sacral potential.
The example of Athens vividly illustrates that people’s everyday lives
were strongly affected by the struggle for a positive relationship with the
sacral forces. In the context of this struggle, the ever-present categories of
purity and pollution served to indicate the degree achieved in establish-
ing a close and reliable connection with the divine powers, which in turn
guaranteed a safe environment for the community.3

1 Plutarch, Alc. 34.1–2; Xenophon, Hell. 1.4.12; see also Deubner, Attische Feste, 17; 22;
Scheer, Die Gottheit und ihr Bild, 58–59; Burkert, Griechische Religion, 347–48.
2 For the introduction and performance of the Panathenaea, see Neils and Bobrick,
Goddess and Polis; Parke, Athenische Feste, 40–71; Ziehen, “Panathenaia”, 457–93; Deubner,
Attische Feste, 22–35; Parker, Athenian Religion, 89–92.
3 In regard to the term pure (katharos), primarily used as an adjective, and pollution
(miasma), see Rudhardt, Notions fondamentales, and Parker, Miasma; Bendlin, “Purity
and Pollution”; see also Douglas, Reinheit und Gefährdung; and Douglas, Ritual, Tabu und
Körpersymbolik.
290 bernhard linke

Accordingly, purity in Greece is closely connected with the concept of

sacrality and the attempt to secure its presence within the human com-
munity.4 Hence the struggle for purity attempts to increase the potential-
ity of the sacral in the human sphere and subsequently to enclose it in
such ways as to protect it from the harmful—the polluting—influence of
the profane.
This intense effort to achieve purity and consequently sacral presence
can only be understood by taking into account the specific conditions of
the Greeks’ polytheistic conception of the world. In contrast to mono-
theistic religions, in which the deities’ sphere is strictly separated from
that of their mortal believers, polytheistic deities represent transcenden-
tal entities whose sphere is closely connected to the human world.5 The
multitude of divine entities, and their genuine claim of being independent
sacral powers amongst others, leads to the problem that the gods cannot
be ubiquitous as in monotheistic religions. Polytheistic deities depend on
the possibility of their being absent in order to explain and guarantee the
independent existence and presence of each and every deity. Henceforth,

4 Bendlin, “Purity”, 180. This strengthening of boundaries and the simultaneous stabi-
lization of a positive connectivity between the sacral and the human spheres is of such
fundamental importance in traditional societies because the human order in early com-
munities was seen to be in a very close exchange relationship with its social and also
natural environments. Only by a thorough, even scrupulous conforming to codes of con-
duct was the common reality detached from the cosmic order and thereby given an inner
social climate. Its stability was, however, dependent on the maintenance of its identity-
establishing boundary with its environment. Therefore extraordinary external impulses
had to be prevented from intruding into the interior by employing sacral rituals and other
protective measures. For the unity of society and natural order in early civilizations, see
Müller, Das magische Universum; Hallpike, Die Grundlagen des primitiven Denkens; Bellah,
“Religious Evolution”, 363–64; see also Dux, Die Logik der Weltbilder, 103–22; Döbert, “Zur
Logik des Überganges”; Luckmann, “Boundaries of the Social World”. For the emergence
of an artificial ‘internal social climate’ as a basis for the formation of human societies, and
its consequences, see Claessens, Das Konkrete und das Abstrakte, 60–92.
5 Brelich, “Polytheismus”, 127; for Ancient Greece see Thomas, “Wingy Mysteries in
Divinity”, 182: “Being is not separated into distinct categories in the Hellenic view; rather
it is regarded as a continuum with various capabilities found along a band of being that
extends from plant to animal to human to deity”. Kearns, “Order, Interaction, Authority”,
519–20; Vernant, Mythos und Gesellschaft, 103; Vernant, “Formes de croyance et de ratio-
nalité en Grèce ancienne”, 120: “Les dieux sont là, supérieurs à nous, mais, si je puis dire,
dans le même monde. D’ailleurs ils n’ont pas créé ce monde, au contraire ils ont été créés
par un processus qui s’est déroulé dans le monde lui-même. Ils font partie du monde. Il
n’y a pas de transcendance ou en tout cas pas au niveau de la religion: il y a une relative
transcendance, bien entendu mais elle n’est pas élaborée intellectuellement pour faire que
dieu est supérieure et au-delà de toute ce qui a été créé, créé par lui et à partir de rien, ce
qui pour le Grec est absurde”.
 sacral purity and social order in ancient rome 291

the presence of the gods—unlike in monotheism—cannot be taken for

granted, and their attention has to be attained first.
It follows that polytheistic societies are always confronted with the
traumatic possibility of a divine vacuum.6 Therefore, the religious dimen-
sion of Greek society was determined by the effort to create areas of
sacral densification through the interaction of spatial demarcations and
the stabilization of ritual actions, thereby increasing the probability of
the presence of certain sacral forces within these areas. Such places were
detached from the ordinary living environment by the emplacement of
boundary stones and were enhanced in their special quality through
codes of conduct,7 e.g., the strict provision that the sacral areas had to be
kept free from death, birth and the spilling of blood.8 Rituals performed
in these particularly purified spaces—preferably abiding by the respective
local customs—increased the frequency of the invoked deity’s sacral pres-
ence due to its taking delight in the sacrificial rituals.
Before entering these areas and especially before performing the ritu-
als, the participants had to cleanse themselves and the sacrificial animals
carried along.9 Furthermore, exceptional clothing and accessories, e.g.,
wreaths, symbolized a state of increased purity.10 By deploying into a rit-
ual procession at the boundaries of the sanctuary, the participants dem-
onstrated that their movements inside were subject to a specific rhythm
and thereby detached from the ordinary world.11 In the sanctuary, holy
objects, mostly aniconic but also man-made cult images referring to the

6 Cf. Assmann, Herrschaft und Heil, 32–45.

7 Cf. Jost, Aspects de la vie religieuse, 115–16; Burkert, Griechische Religion, 146.
8 Thucydides 1.134.2; Xenophon, Hell. 5.3.19; see also Parker, Miasma, 32–34.
9 For domestic hygiene, see Homer, Od. 4.759–761; cleansed clothes, Euripides, El.
791–4; regarding the white color, see Aeschines, In Tim. 3.77. For the wreaths, see Xeno-
phon, Anab. 7.1.40; Aristophanes, Plut. 820; Plato, Resp. 328c and Lys. 206e-207a; see also
Blech, Studien zum Kranz, 302–7, pointing out that the wearing of wreaths was a common
feature of sacrificial rituals, so that its absence had to be explicitly explained; Burkert,
Griechische Religion, 101; 164.
10 Rudhardt, Notions fondamentales, 258–59, who emphasizes that these items most
commonly possessed a socio-political as well as a religious symbolic meaning; see also
Blech, Studien zum Kranz, 303: “Damit diente das stephanophoreîn zu den äußeren Zeichen
der Teilnahme an den privaten und öffentlichen Festen und der Bestätigung der Zuge-
hörigkeit zur Polis”. For purity as a prerequisite for participation in sacrificial rituals, see
also Jost, Aspects de la vie religieuse, 83–84.
11 Cf. Graf, “Pompai in Greece”, 57, who points out that the original meaning of pompe,
especially with Homer, was ‘protecting escort’. In later times the objects in need of protec-
tion were probably the sacrificial animals carried along; see also Bömer, “Pompa”, 1879–88;
Burkert, Griechische Religion vol. 2, 163–64; Burckhardt, Griechische Kulturgeschichte,
153–55; Jost, Aspects de la vie religieuse, 152–54.
292 bernhard linke

diverse powers of the deity, symbolically manifested the increased sacral

presence and made it palpable.12
In archaic times the need to preserve and protect the holy objects led to
the construction of buildings that gradually attained monumental traits.13
These huge temples expressed the close relationship of a local community
with a certain deity, whose protection was the basic precondition for an
enduring human existence.14 A complex ensemble of ritual and material
expenditures, which determined the specific position of the sanctuaries in
the interaction of the public spaces, gradually evolved.15
However, it is significant that the structures and the rituals remained
oddly disconnected; the rituals were performed outdoors at an altar.16 The
altars, not the temples, were the centers of the sanctuaries and utterly
indispensable, while the structures were purely ornamental art,17 the
sacral status of which is still very much disputed in modern research.18
Accordingly, the temples were not—or at the most were only to a very
limited extent—manifestations of a secure and permanent sacral pres-
ence of the gods within society.
The performance of ritual acts was indispensable to communication
with the sacral forces, as their presence was intensively experienced in
the situational event of the ritual.
This precarious dimension of the presence of the sacral element within
society was probably a major factor in the cyclical performance of ritu-
als of purification in Greek sanctuaries. Therefore, it is justified to speak
of a precarious implementation of the sacral element within society in
ancient Greece.

12 The complex positioning and symbolism of the cult images in the context of Greek
religion is thoroughly analyzed in Scheer, Die Gottheit und ihr Bild, passim.
13 For the connection between temple and cult image see Burkert, “The Meaning and
Function of the Temple”, 31–33, and Burkert, Griechische Religion, 149.
14 For temple architecture in general, see also Coldstream, “Greek Temples?” See also
Gruben, Die Tempel der Griechen.
15 Cf. Hölscher, Öffentliche Räume.
16 For the development of altars, see Rupp, “Reflections on the Development of Altars”,
104, with the suggestion that altars are depicted on vases only in later times due to the fact
that they were rather unimpressive at first.
17 Cf. Burkert, Griechische Religion, 146: “Das Temenos dient der ‘heiligen Handlung’,
dem Opfer; sein wesentlichstes Element, wesentlicher noch als Kultmal, Baum und Quell,
ist der Altar, bomós, auf dem das Feuer entzündet wird”.
18 While Sourvinou-Inwood, “Polis Religion”, definitely says that the sanctuaries were
property of the cities, which could also pass from one polis to another, Burkert, “Greek
Poleis and Civic Cult”, remains undecided. For Burkert the sanctuaries were theoretically
owned by the gods but were in practice administered by the city; see also Chaniotis, “Hab-
gierige Götter”.
 sacral purity and social order in ancient rome 293

From the human point of view, a positive relation to the divine powers
was undoubtedly a fundamental prerequisite for the successful existence
of the community. Nevertheless, it was difficult for humans to assess the
exact constellation of the communication process with the divine pow-
ers in the context of their cults because the uncertainty about the lat-
ter’s willingness to actually communicate was never completely resolved.
From this complex situation originated the extreme importance the
Greeks attributed to the categories of purity and pollution. The human
counterpart was to achieve a condition that contributed to a positive dis-
position of the gods when communicating with them. This condition did
not depend on general aspects that referred to the line of conduct of the
person concerned, nor indeed on categories of an extensive concept of
morality. In this respect the gods of the Greeks issued amazingly few nor-
mative guidelines. The crucial aspect was rather a situational purity that
originated from the adherence to the conventional rules of the respective
sanctuaries.

2. Pollution and Purity in Rome

In Rome, there were also numerous occasions on which the warranty or

the restitution of ritual purity played a significant role. This applied espe-
cially to critical situations that might be caused by the death of a member
of the community or by violations against sacral regulations and proce-
dures. In such cases purification rituals had to be performed. These expia-
tory actions were termed piacula and were designed to heal any breach
of the sacral regulations.19 Possible offenses to be expiated by a piaculum
were disruptions of prayers or sacrifices20 as well as violations of a feast
day21 or neglect by a priest.22 John Scheid correctly emphasizes that this
was not a matter of “inner” purity or impurity. It was rather compliance
with the requirements of the formal procedures that was most important.
When the violation of regulations or rules was committed with ill intent,
the punishment of the offense or negligence was a public, not a religious,
matter.23

19 Fundamental to this question: Scheid, “Le délit religieux”; the deliberations of Mom-
msen, “Der Religionsfrevel nach Römischem Recht”, remain important; see also Ehlers,
“piaculum”.
20 Cato, Agr. 141; Ennius in Gellius 4.6.6; Macrobius, Sat. 3.10.7; Servius, Aen. 2.104.
21 Varro, Ling. 6.30; Macrobius, Sat. 1.16.9–10.
22 Livius 5.52.14; Gellius 10.15.10.
23 Scheid, “Le délit religieux”, esp. 122–26.
294 bernhard linke

Beyond these situational sacral reactions towards interferences in com-

munication with the divine powers, there were also a number of rituals
that were periodically conducted to ensure the fertility of the fields and
to prevent any pollution or sacral impairment. Among these rituals were
the lustrationes. A lustratio was basically a circular procession around a
certain object, often a site.24 In the course of this procession, the sacrifi-
cial animals were most commonly carried along and, for example, single
plots (lustratio agri), the Palatine or the city of Rome were circled. While
we are rather well informed about private agrarian lustrationes, thanks to
a prominent description by Cato the Elder in his work about agriculture
(de agricultura 141),25 only scant information exists regarding community-
wide cyclic rituals, whose importance is therefore difficult to assess.26 A
particular exception, however, is constituted by the archaic celebration of
the Lupercalia, about which we are slightly better informed.
On this occasion, the Palatine in Rome was circled by sparsely dressed
men who lashed the spectators with straps of goatskin.27 Based on the
etymology of its name, this rite was most probably invoked to keep wolves
and other harm away from the herds, although there is no consensus yet
in the discussion.28 The sacrifice at the end of the Roman census was
presumably also meant to secure future prosperity. In the context of the
census, a new list of citizens was compiled and the property situations,
especially real estate, were registered anew. At its completion the collec-
tive citizen body assembled in arms on the campus martius, in front of
the urbs.
During this lustrum ritual, the censor then led a pig, a sheep and a cow
around the newly constituted community of citizens, after which the ani-
mals were offered up as sacrifices to Mars: Dorothea Baudy emphasizes
that the ritual core of this action consisted not in the purification of the
army but in the revival of the newly constituted community’s ties with
Mars,29 an act that was also intended to secure the fertility of the fields
as the basis of the community’s well-being. Although caution has to be
exercised due to the difficult nature of the information, it can neverthe-
less be concluded that cyclical rituals concentrated on fending off dangers

24 Baudy, Umgangsriten.
25 Cf. also 141; Tibullus 2.1; Virgil, Ecl. 5.74–75; Harmon, “The Family Festivals of
Rome”.
26 For amburbium Servius, Ecl. 3.77; see Baudy, Umgangsriten, 251–52.
27 Ulf, Das römische Lupercalienfest; Ziolkowski, “Cleaning-Up”.
28 For the state of research, see Ziolkowski, “Cleaning-Up”, 194–210.
29 Baudy, Umgangsriten, 227–46.
 sacral purity and social order in ancient rome 295

rather than on purification. This first result indicates that the constitu-
tion of sacral presence was differently conditioned in Roman society than
in Greece.
This consideration is further strengthened by an analysis of additional
aspects. A first hint in this direction lies in the fact that the political cen-
ter in Rome possessed an extraordinarily powerful religious protection in
the form of the old city boundary—the pomerium—a phenomenon non-
existent in Greece.30 Within the pomerium no armed forces were toler-
ated, the only exception being those army units selected for taking part
in a triumphal procession. The area within the pomerium was a special
place, harboring not only the political center but also the most important
sanctuaries of the Roman people. These two components were—unlike in
Greece—indivisibly connected and intensively entangled with each other.
This also becomes obvious when contrasting the problematic nature of
the site of the people’s assembly in Rome with the conditions in Athens.
Romans were deeply concerned that the processes of political decision-
making might be affected by the distorting influence of locally existing
sacral forces. Whereas in Athens a purification ritual was performed that
included the cleansing of the meeting place of the assembly with pig’s
blood,31 the problem was handled differently in Rome.32 The people’s
assembly—as well as the Roman Senate—in general met only in templa.
The word templum in Latin is not synonymous with the word “temple” in
modern language. Templum rather refers to a place that had its bound-
aries exactly defined by the augurs and that had also been freed from
any residing sacral forces. Therefore, a templum was a place that had
been demarcated and detached from its surrounding area with the agree-
ment of Jupiter, given via the taking of the auspicia,33 a process termed
inauguratio.
However, not every templum was a sacral place in the Roman sense. In
fact, the most crucial point was to avoid exercising communal and col-
lective actions in areas affected or controlled by already existing sacral
influences. Accordingly, the people’s assembly and the Senate always met
in templa, which did not have to be sanctuaries. The regularly repeated

30 For the configuration of religious areas in Rome, see Rüpke, Domi militiae, 30–41, and
Rüpke, Kult jenseits der Polisreligon, 6–9.
31 Cf. Schol. Aristophanes, Eccl. 128; Schol. Aristophanes, Ach. 44; Istros, FGrH 334 F 16;
see also Hanell, “Peristiarchos”, and Parker, Miasma, 21.
32 Scheid, Religion des Romains, 55–66; Rüpke, Die Religion der Römer, 179–82.
33 Linderski, “The Augural Law”, 2256–96.
296 bernhard linke

purification of the site of the people’s assembly in Athens therefore con-

trasts strongly with the practice in Rome where the templa, after having
been liberated and purified once, assumed a status of permanent sacral
invulnerability.
Furthermore, the performance of additional rituals might turn a tem-
plum into a sanctuary, a locus sacer.34 Through this consecration the
place was officially handed over to a deity, most often by the magistrate
in charge, who was assisted by a pontifex. In the course of this process the
sacral forces residing within the area, as well as the boundaries of the sanc-
tuary and the exact forms of worship, were precisely defined. Moreover,
which ritual acts were allowed or forbidden was also announced; special
groups of persons that were not allowed to enter the sanctuary, as well as
proprietary regulations concerning votive offerings and protective mea-
sures against abuse or theft, were mentioned. Once inaugurated, the area
was permanently withdrawn from any mundane influence and instead
became the property of the divine forces. This also applied to the build-
ings constructed on this ground. In contrast to the Greek temples, the
sacral status of their Roman counterparts was beyond dispute.
Significant differences between Greece and Rome also became appar-
ent in the different role and appearance of the priests in these two cultural
regions. Although they were prestigious specialists with expert knowledge
regarding the technical procedures of the rituals, priests in Greece in gen-
eral did not possess a religious quality of their own outside their respec-
tive sanctuaries. It was otherwise in Rome, where the special religious
dimension of the priests was very intensely experienced in the context
of the public life of the community.35 For one thing, Roman priests were
not exclusively linked to one specific sanctuary. Besides the politically
influential members of the four great sacerdotal collegia, governing an
astonishingly huge quantity of arcane political knowledge, there existed
various priesthoods in Rome, whose priests stood in a very close relation-
ship to the relevant deity due to the adoption of a lifestyle thoroughly
governed by numerous taboos and obligations. The flamen Dialis and the
Vestal Virgins bore the most evident testimony to this.

34 Cf. Scheid, Religion des Romains, 57–59.

35 For the Roman priests, see Porte, Les donneurs de sacré; Beard, “Priesthood in the
Roman Republic”; Scheid, “Le prêtre et le magistrate”; Rüpke, “Organisationsmuster
religiöser Spezialisten”; Szemler, “Priesthoods and Priestly Careers in Ancient Rome”;
Szemler, The Priests of the Roman Republic.
 sacral purity and social order in ancient rome 297

The flamen Dialis, the priest of Jupiter, was forbidden to swear an oath
or touch anything impure.36 Any profane activity had to cease in his pres-
ence, a rule ensured by heralds advancing before the priest who told the
people to stop their activities.37 Furthermore, the flamen Dialis was not
allowed to spend a single night outside his sacerdotal home,38 while his
clothes, food and eventually his whole lifestyle were governed by numer-
ous and strict rules.39 Anyone ordained as flamen Dialis was basically
excluded from the political sphere.40 However, the manifold regulations
indicate that this priest was less a representative of the community to the
god than a personification of the divine force within Roman society.41
The physical presence of the divine was also symbolized by the holy
open hearth attended by the Vestal Virgins on behalf of the whole Roman
community.42 These sacral high officials—the only female priests at all—
were subject to a number of strict rules concerning their conduct of life,
the highest precept being the requirement of chastity. The impossibility
of marriage and bearing legitimate children during their thirty-year ser-
vice in the Vesta cult put them in striking opposition to the otherwise-
pervasive Roman ideal of the female way of living. They were the only
women not subjected to paternal authority, due to their fulfilling a public
function. Moreover, they possessed an astonishingly autonomous status
that was only to some extent constrained by the authority of the Pontifex
Maximus. A further peculiarity was that they were the only official priests
in the Greco-Roman cultural sphere who lived in a convent-like manner
and were therefore distinctly separated from their social environment.

36 For the ban on taking oaths, see Livius 31.50.7; Gellius 10.15.5; Plutarch, Quaest. Rom.
44; for the avoidance of impurity, see Gellius 10.15.12; 15.19; 15.24; Pliny (E), NH. 18.119; 28.146;
Plutarch, Quaest. Rom. 109–11; Servius, Aen. 1.179; Macrobius, Sat. 1.16.9; for flamen Dialis,
s.a. Marco Simón, Flamen Dialis; Vanggaard, The Flamen; Scheid, “Le flamine de Jupiter”.
37 Macrobius, Sat. 1.16.9.
38 Livius 5.52.13: flamini Dialis noctem unam manere extra urbem nefas est; see also
Tacitus, Ann. 3.71 and Gellius 10.15.14, describing the somewhat relaxed regulations of the
Principate.
39 E.g., his clothes had to be free of knots (see Gellius 10.15.9; Servius, Aen. 4.262), and
only a free man was allowed to cut his hair (see Gellius 10.15.11).
40 For the exclusion from politics, see Livius 4.54.7; Gellius 10.15.4; Plutarch, Quaest.
Rom. 113.
41 John Scheid, Religion et piété, 40–41: “Le flamine de Jupiter ne peut pas prêter ser-
ment, car il est [original emphasis] le serment, il incarne le maître du droit et du ser-
ment. . . . Bref, tous ces indices semblent suggérer que par son mode d’alimentation aussi
le flamine Dial était plus proche des dieux que des hommes”.
42 For the Vestal Virgins, see Saquete, Las vírgenes vestales; Martini, Le vestali; Meka-
cher, Die vestalischen Jungfrauen; Schultz, Women’s Religious Activity, esp. 70–81.
298 bernhard linke

Consequently, the peculiar way of life of the flamen Dialis and the
Vestal Virgins symbolized the permanent presence of the sacral within
Roman society. They are not ‘part-time priests’ like many sacral dignitar-
ies in Greece. Instead, the strict rules governing their way of living and the
conduct of their duties identified them as representatives of the sacral in a
society that was very much aware of its close ties with the divine forces.
This intense interweaving of the sacral and social spheres was not
restricted to the priesthood. It was also possible for constellations to arise
outside of these sacral organizations that might be described as consti-
tutions of the sacral within society. One instance of this is the Roman
triumphal procession.43 Before each military campaign, the commanding
magistrate consulted Jupiter Optimus Maximus to determine if he was
willing to consent to the military operation.
If he did so, and furthermore showed his benevolence towards the
magistrate and the res publica by granting a splendid victory over their
enemies, the successful general was allowed to enter the city of Rome in
a triumphal procession leading up to the capitol, where a great thank-
offering was made to the god. The triumphal garb worn by the general
during this ceremony was kept in the temple of Jupiter and made obvious
references to the supreme deity.
Dressed in purple, standing on the quadriga, equipped with scepter and
laurel wreath, the general must have seemed like an incarnation of the
god to the people who watched and marveled at the magnificent ritual.44
Even though the Romans were of course aware that the victorious general
was human, the whole ritual of the triumph, with its manifold ceremonial
arrangements, nevertheless made the idea that the Roman community
possessed special ties with the deity, a feeling that was further increased
with each victory, come alive.

43 For the triumphal procession, see Beard, The Roman Triumph; Bastien, Le triomphe
romain; Itgenshorst, Tota illa pompa, and Bonfante-Warren, “Roman Triumph and Etrus-
can Kings”. For the complex symbolic reference system of ritual and public space in the
Roman Republic, see Hölkeskamp, “Hierarchie und Konsens”; Hölkeskamp, “Pomp und
Prozessionen”; and Beck, “Züge in die Ewigkeit”.
44 Livius 10.7.10: Iovis Optimi Maximi ornatus; for the purple toga and tunic, see Poly-
bius 6.53; Dionysius Halicarnasseus, Ant. rom. 3.61 and 62; Appian, Pun. 66; Livius 10.7.9;
30.15.11–12; for the quadriga, see Dionysius Halicarnasseus, Ant.rom. 9.71.4. The chariot itself
was gilded; see Livius 10.7.10; Horace, Epod. 9.21; for the eagle-crowned scepter wielded by
the triumphator in his left hand, see Dionysius Halicarnasseus, Ant. rom. 3.61.2–3; Valerius
Maximus 4.4.5; Juvenal 10.43. In the right he carried a laurel branch; see Pliny (E), NH.
15.137; Plutarch, Aem. 34; Appian, Pun. 66; for the laurel wreath, see Pliny (E), NH. 15.137.
A slave standing behind the triumphator held a gold wreath above his head; see Pliny (E),
NH. 33.11; Juvenal 10.39.
 sacral purity and social order in ancient rome 299

This experience was also shared by the whole citizen body in the con-
text of the circus games, which had their roots in the honoring of the
gods and were therefore deeply enmeshed in the sacral sphere. At the
beginning of the games, the most important symbols of Jupiter Optimus
Maximus—the exuviae—were conducted into the circus in a ceremonial
procession.45 These processions were led by the supreme magistrates,
whose attire was related to the triumphal garb.46 The same garb was worn
by the magistrates in charge during the games, which were performed in
the presence of the gods. The people and the gods formed a physically
palpable unit for the duration of the games.47
As a consequence of these considerations, it appears that the constitu-
tion of sacral presence in Rome complied with a different logic than in
Greece. While the religious life in Greece was characterized by the struggle
for the densification of the sacral within the human sphere, the Romans
were convinced that the sacral forces were already present in their midst.
Accordingly, the gradual concept of the Greeks was opposed by a strong
claim of stability in Rome. The existence of the sacral within society, in
both its social and its spatial dimension, was presumed in Rome. Taking
this conception into account, a division of the two spheres was well-nigh
impossible.48 It was not a gradual approach or a situational densification
of the sacral that underlay the Roman conception of the world, but rather
a fundamental harmony. This integration of sacral powers into the fabric
of Roman society went to such lengths that John Scheid speaks of “fellow
sacral citizens” (dieux citoyens).49
However, this harmonizing tie between the sacral and social spheres
was prone to being disturbed or endangered, even in Rome. This menac-
ing scenario and its prevention constituted a central aspect in the religious
worldview of the Romans. They assumed that in general the gods would,
of their own accord, give a warning about impending threats against their
relationship with the Roman community. In such cases ominous portents,

45 For the exuviae, see Suetonius, Aug. 94.6. The exuviae of Jupiter Optimus Maximus
were an eagle scepter, lightning bolt or gilded wreath; see Bernstein, Ludi publici, 42–43
(see note 63). For the carts (tensae) on which the exuviae were conducted into the circus,
see Fest. p. 500 L; cf. Valerius Maximus 1.1.16; Suetonius, Aug. 43.5; Vesp. 5.7; Tertullian,
Spec. 7.2.
46 Livius 5.41.2: augustissima vestis est tensas ducentibus triumphantibusve; cf. Bernstein,
Ludi publici, 48–51; Latte, Römische Religionsgeschichte, 153 (see note 55).
47 Livius 2.37.9: coetus quodam modo hominum deorumque. Instead of the Forum the
people could also be summoned in front of the Capitoline Temple; see Livius 25.3.14;
33.25.7; 34.1.4; 34.53.2; 43.16.9; 45.36.1; Appian, civ. 1.15.
48 Cf. Linke, “Religio”.
49 Scheid, Religion et piété, 51–57.
300 bernhard linke

prodigia, for example deformed animals or lightning striking sacral places,

were sent in order to call the problems to the attention of the humans.
A closer look at the ways in which Roman society reacted to these
events and situations, which were seen as critical or symptomatic of cri-
ses, reveals a sophisticated system of mechanisms that was meant to guar-
antee the efficiency of the social order even in such situations.50 Thus,
the gods were in theory able to employ portents in order to highlight dis-
turbances in their relations with human society. However, these portents
on their own did not have any effect, instead only gaining importance
after the sacral and political institutions of the Roman Republic accepted
their relevance for the Roman community. Thereby the Roman priests,
magistrates and Senate controlled not only the communication of the
community with the gods but also the communication of the gods with
the community.51 The consultation of the Sibylline Books formed a cor-
nerstone of this control,52 as their situationally adapted references lent
a remarkable degree of flexibility to the religious system in regard to its
response to extraordinary incidents. The books were solely consulted on
the order of the Senate and their counsels were announced in secret ses-
sions. It was anything but a small effort that the social institutions of the
Roman Republic performed in order to guarantee the stability of the col-
lective order in times of crisis.
Correspondingly, the spectrum of advice given by the Sibylline Books
was very wide. It ranged from the offering of sacrifices and the establish-
ment of new temples to the introduction of new cults. The supplicatory
procession, the supplicationes (first performed in 463 bce), and the per-
formance of feasts for the gods, the lectisternia (first performed in 399
bce), had been part of this spectrum since the early phase of the Roman
Republic.53 Due to the fact that these two rituals concerned the whole
population, they are quite instructive.

50 Cf. Rosenberger, Gezähmte Götter, passim.

51 Cf. Scheid, Religion et piété, 51–55.
52 The origins of the Sibylline Books are unknown. According to the ancient sources
they were acquired under the Etruscan King Tarquinius Superbus. The first consultation
mentioned dates back to the year 496 bce (see Dionysius Halicarnasseus, Ant. rom. 6.17.3);
for the Sibylline Books, see Scheid, “Les livres sibyllins”; Scheid, “Rituel et écriture à Rome”,
7–8; Orlin, Temples, Religion and Politics, 76–116; North, “Diviners and Divination at Rome”;
North, “Conservatism and Change”, 9; Wissowa, Religion und Kultus, 536–47; Porte, Les
donneurs de sacré, 144–48.
53 In contrast to older expiation rituals—e.g., the lustratio—the supplicationes were
probably a slightly younger ritual, although the exact date of their introduction remains
as unresolved as the problem of possible Greek influences; see Linke, “Emotionalität und
 sacral purity and social order in ancient rome 301

As with many elements of social and religious life at the time of the
Roman Republic, we are dependent on the analysis of fragmentary evi-
dence that has to be compiled to form a plausible overall picture. However,
it is obvious that the supplicationes and the lectisternia were not confined
to an exclusive circle but included a great part of the population.54
The sanctuaries were opened,55 and in the course of the supplica-
tiones, the people carried wreaths and moved in loose formation and
sequence from one sacral place to the next, pleading with the gods for
mercy.56 While the men offered up gifts, such as wine, the women begged
the gods in a highly emotionalized form to rescue the Roman commu-
nity from its plight.57 To emphasize their pleading they threw themselves
on the ground, loosened their hair and used it to clean the floors of the
sanctuaries.58
However, the supplicationes later also performed the function—partic-
ularly in the case of spectacular military successes—of thanking the gods
in a state of joyful excitement, thereby ritually symbolizing the end of

Status”; Wissowa, “Supplicationes”; Wissowa, Religion und Kultus, 423–26; Latte, Römische
Religionsgeschichte, 245–46; Rüpke, Domi militiae, 215–17; Rosenberger, Gezähmte Götter,
143–45; Freyburger, “La supplication de grâces”; and Freyburger, “Supplication grecque et
supplication romaine”, in whose assessment the supplicationes have a decidedly Roman
character, which was either only superficially influenced by Greek rituals or had been
adopted from Greeks or Etruscans at such an early time that the external part of the
ritual had all but disappeared. Freyburger’s assumptions were based on his research on
the significant differences between the ritual forms of pleading and thanking in Greece
and Rome. For the sometimes exaggerated Greek influences on the Roman equites, see
also Scheid, “Graeco Ritu”. For the lectisternia, see Wissowa, Religion und Kultus, 421–23;
Latte, Römische Religionsgeschichte, 242–44; North, “Religion in Republican Rome”, 618;
and Rosenberger, Gezähmte Götter, 146–47.
54 Cf., e.g., Livius 21.62.9: universo populo circa omnia pulvinaria, and 30.17.6: Itaque
praetor extemplo edixit, uti aedutui aedes sacras omnes tota urbe aperirent, circumeundi
salutandique deos agendique grates per totum diem populo potestas fieret; see also 22.10.8;
27.51.9; 45.2.7.
55 Cf., e.g., Livius 8.33.20; 10.23.1, 23.17.6 and 40.4; 45.2.6–12.
56 For the supplicationes circa (ad) omnia pulvinaria (or more rarely circa omnia tem-
pla), see for instance Livius 21.62.9; 24.10.13; 27.4.15; 30.21.10; 31.8.2; 32.1.14; 34.55.4; Cicero,
Cat. 3.23; Cicero, Phil. 14.37; Tacitus, Ann. 14.12. For the wreaths, see Livius 34.55.4; 36.37.5;
40.37.3; 43.13.8; see also Freyburger, “Supplication de grâces”, 289–98, who analyzes the ety-
mology of the word supplicatio and the resulting consequences for its sacral background
and performance.
57 For the provision of wine and incense out of public funds, see Livius 10.23.2; see on
that account Rosenberger, Gezähmte Götter, 144.
58 Cf. Livius 3.7.7; see also Livius 26.9.8: Ploratus mulierum non ex privatis solum domi-
bus exaudiebatur, sed undique matronae in publicum effusae circa deum delubra discurrunt
crinibus passis aras verrentes, nixae genibus, supinas manus ad caelum ac deos tendentes;
see also Wissowa, “Supplicationes”, 943, and Rosenberger, Gezähmte Götter, 144.
302 bernhard linke

a critical situation.59 During the lectisternia, the cult images of the gods
were taken from the temples to previously arranged places, where they
were bedded on pillows (pulvinar). After that, the citizens symbolically
dined together with their gods: “The gods, otherwise secluded sitting
enthroned in their temples, came to the people and participated in the
meal offered to them”.60
Despite pending questions and uncertainties regarding the details of
the procedure, one surprising element of the ritual, which is constantly
emphasized in the sources, is striking: The structure adopted by the
Roman community for the execution of its rituals was not determined by
the usual strict organization of the public space into fixed principles of
classification. As a general rule, the Romans excelled in organizing social
activities or sacral rituals in such a way as to reduplicate the established
social order among the attendees. However, in situations of extreme dan-
ger, they conspicuously chose a form of organization that was not gov-
erned by any form of stratification. Instead, the people went individually
from temple to temple and begged for mercy or offered up votives in the
context of the lectisternia. They did not do this as part of the community
in whose structure they were integrated and which was usually redupli-
cated within the rituals.
However, both the suspension of the criteria for social order, which
in general were strictly adhered to in public, and the importance of the
participation of women stress the singularity of the whole scenario.61 It
was not the populus in terms of the social order of a strictly structured
and hierarchical union of the male members of the Roman people that
begged the gods for mercy or thanked them for their help, but rather the
Roman people in a universal sense who were called upon to communicate
with the gods. Thus, whenever the fundamental connection of Roman

59 For the connection of the supplicationes with the rituals concerning the triumph, see
Versnel, Triumphus, 164–95; Halkin, La supplication; Freyburger, “Supplication de grâces”,
298–315.
60 Latte, Römische Religionsgeschichte, 244; on the significance of cult images in Roman
religious practice and for an analysis of the food rituals, see Rüpke, Religion der Römer,
72–75; 104; on the cult images, see also Gladigow, “Ikonographie und Pragmatik”, for lec-
tisternia esp. 21–23.
61 For the emphasis on the participation of women, see, e.g., Livius 25.12.15: matronae
supplicavere; 27.51.9: matronae amplissima veste cum liberis; see also 22.10.8 and 45.2.7. On
the standing of women in Roman religion, see Scheid, “Die Rolle der Frauen”; Scheid, Reli-
gion des Romains, 111–12; Beard, North and Price, Religions of Rome, 70–71; 95–98; Scheer,
“Forschungen über die Frau in der Antike”, 159–61.
 sacral purity and social order in ancient rome 303

society with their sacral forces was in jeopardy, the former reacted with a
sort of ‘situational self-dissolution’ in the context of highly emotionalized
rituals. It is therefore appropriate to speak of a cathartic rebirth of the
community.

3. Purity in Ancient Societies: A Provisional Result

Purity as a means of conserving collective identity and the ability to com-

municate with the sacred plays a substantial role in ancient societies. In
the Greek as well as the Roman cultural sphere, there existed a multitude
of purification rituals meant to protect the community from pollution and
the damage this would cause. This applied both to the agricultural sector
and to social life. However, despite these similarities, a closer look reveals
significant differences. In Greece a trend may be observed wherein com-
pliance with purity regulations aimed at increasing the possibility of the
presence of certain sacral forces for the benefit of a specific social group at
a specified place. Codes of conduct within the boundaries of the sanctuar-
ies indicated that a border was being crossed on entering, which served
to detach the sacral place from its mundane environment. Sacrifices per-
formed under these special conditions were then intended to gain the
attention of the sacral forces and focus it on the sacrificing community,
thereby securing the latter’s protection.
The essential precondition for this concept of purity lies in the appre-
hension that the gods can be absent; their presence must not be taken
for granted. Therefore the attendance of the gods had to be ascertained
in some basic form before the actual execution of the sacral communi-
cation. This necessity of maximizing the probability of sacral presence
is undoubtedly related to the embedding of the sacral forces within the
complicated social constellation of ancient Greece. A multitude of politi-
cally and socially independent communities referred in their cults to one
and the same deity, with the result that regionally specific aspects were
intricately correlated with commonly shared perceptions of the sacral sys-
tem. Although the current research, with good reason, emphasizes the
importance of regional specifics, it is nevertheless evident that an exclu-
sive relationship between a certain community and a deity was impossi-
ble to establish under such conditions. Thus the deities possessed a social
polyvalence due to their being counterparts for various communities. This
polyvalence even applied to the goddess Athena, who had proverbially
close ties to the city of Athens. As a result of the poly-social location of the
304 bernhard linke

Greek gods, a latent contest for their favor ensued in which relative affin-
ity and frequency became a crucial category. Accordingly, it was deemed
necessary to increase the probability of these positive effects to which
compliance with purity regulations contributed.
In Rome, reverence for the gods was originally also embedded in a
poly-social context. Being part of the Latin League, the Romans shared
their deities with the neighboring Latin communities. However, a funda-
mentally contrary trend can be discerned at quite an early time. Lavishly
endowed cults of Latin deities were established in Rome that competed
in obvious ways with the cults for the whole of Latium and were designed
to supersede them eventually. The most prominent example is without a
doubt provided by the outstanding cult of Jupiter Optimus Maximus, to
whom a temple on the Roman capitol was dedicated in the late 6th cen-
tury. This temple was of such monumental proportions that it far eclipsed
the central Latin cult of Jupiter Latiaris.
The successful attempt to reconfigure the sacral landscape in favor of
Rome served to demonstrate Roman dominance within Latium. At the
end of this development the sacral landscape had changed dramatically,
and the former poly-social establishment of the cults had been replaced
by a cult constellation exclusively centered on Rome. Consequently, the
time of the Roman Republic presents a very different picture than does
the period of classical Greece. The whole Roman community was deeply
animated by the belief that the divine powers relevant to their commu-
nity were present within its center. Therefore, the problem of potentially
absent gods due to a poly-social relativity did not occur to Romans; their
gods were present. It was possible to encounter priests on the streets
whose entire lifestyle symbolized this sacral presence. They were present
at triumphs as well as during the circus games.
The sanctuaries provided places right at the center of society that
were ceded to the gods on a permanent basis and thus testified to their
sacral presence within the community, an aspect that was even further
emphasized by the political meetings held there. These meetings dem-
onstrated the close affiliation and certainty felt by the Romans in regard
to the connection between the presence of the sacral and its importance
for the community’s orientation towards common action. Because of this,
the center, i.e., the area within the pomerium, acquired a special qual-
ity. While the Greeks maintained a rather equalizing conception of the
positioning of cults in the territory of their communities, the Roman cults
were concentrated within the sacral city boundaries of the pomerium and
its immediate vicinity.
 sacral purity and social order in ancient rome 305

The Romans thus developed a specific form of sacral densification that

probably had its origin in the distinct demarcation from the other Latin
communities. In the long run, this process resulted in an alternate con-
cept of sacral presence: In general the presence of the sacral forces was
beyond question. Society regularly reassured itself of this fact with great
ritual effort. However, if justified doubts concerning the permanent sacral
presence occurred, the society disintegrated into its most basic elements
in order to restore its exclusive relation to the gods in the context of the
lectisternia and the supplicationes.
If sacral purity refers to a state of exceptionally secure ability to com-
municate with the sacral forces, then this level of communication was
achieved by the Roman community to an extent rivaled by few other
societies.

Bibliography

Assmann, Jan. Herrschaft und Heil: Politische Theologie in Ägypten, Israel und Europa.
Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 2000.
Bastien, Jean-Luc. Le triomphe romain et son utilisation politique à Rome aux trois derniers
siècles de la République. Collection de l’École française de Rome 392. Rome: École
Française de Rome, 2007.
Baudy, Dorothea. Römische Umgangsriten: Eine ethologische Untersuchung der Funktion von
Wiederholung für religiöses Verhalten. Religionsgeschichtliche Versuche und Vorarbeiten
43. Berlin: de Gruyter, 1998.
Beard, Mary. The Roman Triumph. Cambridge, Mass.: Belknap Press of Harvard University
Press, 2007.
——, and John A. North, and Simon Price. Religions of Rome: Volume 1: A History. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1998.
——. “Priesthood in the Roman Republic”. Pages 19–48 in Pagan Priests: Religion and Power
in the Ancient World. Edited by M. Beard and J. A. North. London: Duckworth, 1990.
Beck, Hans. “Züge in die Ewigkeit: Prozessionen durch das republikanische Rom”. Göttinger
Forum für Altertumswissenschaft 8 (2005): 73–104.
Bellah, Robert N. “Religious Evolution”. in American Sociological Review 29 (1964): 358–74.
Bendlin, Andreas. “Purity and Pollution”. Pages 178–189 in A Companion to Greek Religion.
Blackwell Companion to the Ancient World. Edited by D. Ogden. Oxford: Blackwell,
2007.
Bernstein, Frank. Ludi publici: Untersuchungen zur Entstehung und Entwicklung der öffentli-
chen Spiele im republikanischen Rom. Historia 119. Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag, 1998.
Blech, Michael. Studien zum Kranz bei den Griechen. Religionsgeschichtliche Versuche und
Vorarbeiten 38. Berlin: de Gruyter, 1982.
Bömer, F. “Pompa”. Pages 1878–1994 in vol. 42 of Paulys Real-Encyclopädie der classischen
Alterthumswissenschaft. Edited by K. Ziegler. 49 vols. Stuttgart: Metzler, 1952.
Bonfante-Warren, Larissa. “Roman Triumph and Etruscan Kings: The Changing Face of the
Triumph”. Journal of Roman Studies 60 (1970): 49–66.
Brelich, Angelo. “Der Polytheismus”. Numen 7 (1960): 123–36.
Burckhardt, Jacob. Griechische Kulturgeschichte. Das Geschichtswerk Jacob Burckhardt 2.
4 vols. Frankfurt on the Main: Zweitausendeins, 2007.
306 bernhard linke

Burkert, Walter. “Greek Poleis and Civic Cults: Some further Thoughts”. Pages 201–10 in
Studies in the Ancient Greek Polis. Papers from the Copenhagen Polis Centre 2. Edited by
M. H. Hansen and K. Raaflaub. Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag, 1995.
——. “The Meaning and Function of the Temple in Classical Greece”. Pages 27–48 in
Temple in Society. Edited by M. V. Fox. Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1988.
——. Griechische Religion der archaischen und klassischen Epoche. Die Religionen der
Menschheit 15. Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1977.
Chaniotis, Angelos. “Habgierige Götter–habgierige Städte: Heiligtumsbesitz und
Gebietsanspruch in den kretischen Staatsverträgen”. Ktema: Civilisations de l’Orient, de
la Grèce et de Rome antiques 13 (1988): 21–39.
Claessens, Dieter. Das Konkrete und das Abstrakte: Soziologische Skizzen zur Anthropologie.
Suhrkamp-Taschenbuch Wissenschaft 1108. Frankfurt on the Main: Suhrkamp, 1993.
Coldstream, John Nicolas. “Greek Temples: Why and Where?” Pages 67–97 in Greek
Religion and Society. Edited by P. E. Easterling and J. V. Muir. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1987.
Deubner, Ludwig. Attische Feste: 2. durchgesehene und erweiterte Auflage. Berlin: Keller
1932, Repr., Berlin: Akademischer Verlag, 1966.
Döbert, Rainer. “Zur Logik des Überganges von archaischen zu hochkulturellen
Religionssystemen”. Pages 330–63 in Die Entstehung von Klassengesellschaften: Seminar.
Suhrkamp-Taschenbuch Wissenschaft 30. Edited by K. Eder. Frankfurt on the Main:
Suhrkamp, 1973.
Douglas, Mary. Reinheit und Gefährdung: Eine Studie zu Vorstellungen von Verunreinigung
und Tabu. Suhrkamp-Taschenbuch Wissenschaft 712. Translated by B. Luchesi. Frankfurt
on the Main: Suhrkamp, 1988.
——. Ritual, Tabu und Körpersymbolik: Sozialanthropologische Studien in Industriegesellschaft
und Stammeskultur. Translated by E. Bubser. Frankfurt on the Main: Fischer, 1986.
Dux, Günther. Die Logik der Weltbilder: Sinnstrukturen im Wandel der Geschichte. Suhrkamp-
Taschenbuch Wissenschaft 370. Frankfurt on the Main: Suhrkamp, 1990.
Ehlers, W. “piaculum”. Pages 1179–85 in vol. 20,1 of Paulys Real-Encyclopädie der classischen
Alterthumswissenschaft. Edited by K. Mittelhaus. 49 vols. Stuttgart: Metzler, 1941.
Freyburger, Gérard. “Supplication grecque et supplication romaine”. Latomus: Revue
d’études latines 47 (1988): 501–25.
——. “La supplication de grâces dans la religion romaine archaïque”. Latomus: Revue
d’études latines 36 (1977): 283–315.
Gladigow, Burkhard. “Zur Ikonographie und Pragmatik römischer Kultbilder”. Pages
9–24 in Iconologia sacra: Mythos, Bildkunst und Dichtung in der Religions- und
Sozialgeschichte Alteuropas: Festschrift für Karl Hauck zum 75. Geburtstag. Arbeiten zur
Frühmittelalterforschung 23. Edited by H. Keller and N. Staubach. Berlin: de Gruyter,
1994.
Graf, Fritz. “Pompai in Greece: Some Considerations about Space and Ritual in the Greek
Polis”. Pages 55–65 in The Role of Religion in the Early Greek Polis: Proceedings of the
Third International Seminar on Ancient Greek Cult, Organized by the Swedish Institute at
Athens, 16–18 October 1992. Svenska Institutet i Athen 8,14. Edited by R. Hägg. Stockholm:
Åström, 1996.
Gruben, Gottfried. Die Tempel der Griechen. 2d ed. Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche
Buchgesellschaft, 1976.
Halkin, Léon-E. La supplication d’action de grâces chez les Romains. Bibliothèque de la
Faculté de philosophie et lettres de l’Université de Liège 128. Paris: Les Belles Lettres, 1953.
Hallpike, Christopher Robert. Die Grundlagen des primitiven Denkens. Translated by B. Luc.
Munich: Klett-Cotta, 1990.
Hanell, K. “Peristiarchos”. Page 859 in vol. 19,1 of Paulys Real-Encyclopädie der classischen
Alterthumswissenschaft. Edited by W. Groll. 49 vols. Stuttgart: Metzler, 1937.
Harmon, Daniel. P. “The Family Festivals of Rome”. ANRW 16.2: 1592–603. Part 2, Principat,
16.2. Edited by H. Temporini and W. Haase. Berlin, et al.: de Gruyter, 1978.
 sacral purity and social order in ancient rome 307

Hölkeskamp, Karl-Joachim. “Hierarchie und Konsens: Pompae in der politischen Kultur

der Römischen Republik”. Pages 79–126 in Machtfragen: Zur kulturellen Repräsentation
und Konstruktion von Macht in Antike, Mittelalter und Neuzeit. Edited by A. H. Arweiler
and B. M. Gauly. Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag, 2008.
——. “Pomp und Prozessionen: Rituale und Zeremonien in der politischen Kultur der
Römischen Republik”. Pages 35–72 in Jahrbuch des Historischen Kollegs 2006. Munich:
Oldenbourg, 2007.
Hölscher, Tonio. Öffentliche Räume in frühen griechischen Städten. Schriften der
Philosophisch-Historischen Klasse der Heidelberger Akademie der Wissenschaften 7.
Heidelberg: Winter, 1998.
Itgenshorst, Tanja. Tota illa pompa: Der Triumph in der Römischen Republik; mit einer
CD-ROM: Katalog der Triumphe von 340 bis 19 vor Christus. Hypomnemata 161. Göttingen:
Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2005.
Jost, Madeleine. Aspects de la vie religieuse en Grèce: Du début du Ve siècle à la fin du IIIe
siècle avant J.-C. Regards sur l’histoire: 86 Histoire ancienne. Paris: Sedes, 1992.
Kearns, Emily. “Order, Interaction, Authority: Ways of Looking at Greek Religion”. Pages
511–29 in The Greek World. Edited by A. Powell. London: Routledge, 1995.
Latte, Kurt. Römische Religionsgeschichte. Handbuch der klassischen Altertumswissenschaft
5,4. Munich: Beck, 1960.
Linderski, Jerzy. “The Augural Law”. ANRW 16.3: 2146–312. Part 2, Principat, 16.3. Edited by
H. Temporini and W. Haase. Berlin: de Gruyter, 1986.
Linke, Bernhard. “Emotionalität und Status: Zur gesellschaftlichen Funktion von suppli-
cationes und lectisternia in der Römischen Republik”. Pages 65–86 in Die emotionale
Dimension antiker Religiosität. Forschungen zur Anthropologie und Religionsgeschichte
37. Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, 2003.
——. “Religio und res publica: Religiöses Denken und gesellschaftliches Handeln in der
Römischen Republik”. Pages 269–98 in Mos maiorum: Untersuchungen zu den Formen
der Identitätsstiftung und Stabilisierung in der Römischen Republik. Historia 141. Edited
by B. Linke and M. Stemmler. Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag, 2000.
Luckmann, Thomas. “On the Boundaries of the Social World”. Pages 73–100 in
Phenomenology and Reality: Essays in Memory of Alfred Schütz. Edited by M. Natanson.
The Hague: Nijhoff, 1970.
Marco Simón, Francisco. Flamen dialis: El sacerdote de Júpiter en la religión romana.
Religiones antiquitatis. Madrid: Ediciones Clásicas, 1996.
Martini, Maria Cristina. Le vestali: Un sacerdozio funzionale al ‘cosmo’ romano. Collection
Latomus 282. Bruxelles: Latomus, 2004.
Mekacher, Nina. Die vestalischen Jungfrauen in der römischen Kaiserzeit. Palilia 15.
Wiesbaden: Reichert, 2006.
Mommsen, Theodor. “Der Religionsfrevel nach römischem Recht”. Pages 389–422 in vol. 3
of Gesammelte Schriften. 8 vols. Berlin: Weidmann, 1907.
Müller, Klaus E. Das magische Universum der Identität: Elementarformen sozialen Verhaltens:
Ein ethnologischer Grundriß. Frankfurt on the Main: Campus Verlag, 1987.
Neils, Jenifer, and Elizabeth Bobrick, eds. Goddess and Polis: The Panathenaic Festival in
Ancient Athens, Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1992.
North, John A. “Diviners and Divination at Rome”. Pages 51–71 in Pagan Priests: Religion
and Power in the Ancient World. Edited by M. Beard and J. A. North. London: Duckworth,
1990.
——. “Religion in Republican Rome”. Pages 573–625 in The Rise of Rome to 220 B.C. The
Cambridge Ancient History 7,2. 2d ed. Edited by A. E. Astin, F. W. Walbank and M. W.
Frederikson. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989.
——. “Conservatism and Change in Roman Religion”. Papers of the British School at Rome
44 (1976): 1–12.
Orlin, Eric M. Temples, Religion and Politics in the Roman Republic. Mnemosyne:
Supplementum 164. Leiden: Brill, 1997.
308 bernhard linke

Parke, Herbert W. Athenische Feste. Kulturgeschichte der antiken Welt 38. Translated by
G. Hornbostel. Mainz: von Zabern, 1987.
Parker, Robert J. Athenian Religion: A History. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1996.
——. Miasma: Pollution and Purification in Early Greek Religion. Oxford: Clarendon Press,
1983. Repr., Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1996.
Porte, Danielle. Les donneurs de sacré: Le prêtre à Rome. Realia. Paris: Les Belles Lettres,
1989.
Rosenberger, Veit. Gezähmte Götter: Das Prodigienwesen der Römischen Republik.
Heidelberger althistorische Beiträge und epigraphische Studien 27. Franz Steiner Verlag,
1998.
Rudhardt, Jean. Notions fondamentales de la pensée religieuse et actes constitutifs du culte
dans la Grèce classique: Étude préliminaire pour aider à la compréhension de la piété
athénienne au 4. siècle. Geneva: Droz, 1958. Repr., Antiquité, Synthèses 3. Paris: Picard,
1992.
Rüpke, Jörg. “Organisationsmuster religiöser Spezialisten im kultischen Spektrum Roms”.
Pages 13–26 in Religions orientales–culti misterici: Neue Perspektiven–nouvelles perspec-
tives–prospettive nuove. Potsdamer Altertumswissenschaftliche Beiträge 16. Edited by
C. Bonnet, J. Rüpke and P. Scarpi. Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag, 2006.
——. Kult jenseits der Polisreligion: Polemiken und Perspektiven. Jahrbuch für Antike und
Christentum 47. Münster: Aschendorf, 2004.
——. Die Religion der Römer: Eine Einführung. Munich: Beck, 2001.
——. Domi militiae: Die religiöse Konstruktion des Krieges in Rom. Stuttgart: Franz Steiner
Verlag, 1990.
Rupp, David W. “Reflections on the Development of Altars in the Eighth Century B.C”.
Pages 101–7 in The Greek Renaissance of the Eighth Century B.C.: Tradition and Innovation:
Proceedings of the Second International Symposium at the Swedish Institute in Athens,
1–5 June, 1981. Edited by R. Hägg. Stockholm: Åström, 1989.
Saquete, Jose Carlos. Las vírgenes vestales: Un sacerdocio femenino en la religión pública
romana. Archivo español de arqueología: Anejos 21. Madrid: Consejo Superior de
Investigaciones Científicas, Instituto de Historia, Departamento de Historia Antigua y
Arqueología, Fundación de Estudios Romanos, 2000.
Scheer, Tanja. Die Gottheit und ihr Bild: Untersuchungen zur Funktion griechischer Kultbilder
in Religion und Politik. Zetemata 105. Munich: Beck, 2000.
——. “Forschungen über die Frau in der Antike: Ziele, Methoden, Perspektiven”.
Gymnasium 107 (2000): 143–72.
Scheid, John. “Les livres sibyllins et les archives des quindécemvirs”. Pages 11–26 in La
mémoire perdue: Recherches sur l’administration romaine. Collection de l’École Française
de Rome 243. Edited by C. Moatti and J. Scheid. Rome: École Française de Rome, 1998.
——. La religion des Romains. Cursus: Serie histoire de l’Antiquite. Paris: Colin, 1998.
——. “Graeco Ritu: A Typically Roman Way of Honoring the Gods”. Harvard Studies in
Classical Philology 97 (1995): 15–31.
——. “Die Rolle der Frauen in der römischen Religion”. Pages 417–49 in Geschichte der
Frauen: Band 1: Antike. Edited by P. Schmitt Pantel. Vol 1 of Geschichte der Frauen. Edited
by P. Schmitt Pantel. Frankfurt on the Main: Campus Verlag, 1993.
——. “Rituel et écriture à Rome”. Pages 1–15 in Essais sur le rituel: Colloque du Centenaire de
la Section des Sciences Religieuses de l’École Pratique des Hautes Études. Bibliothèque de
l’École des Hautes Études, Section des Sciences Religieuses 95. Edited by A.-M. Blondeau
and K. Schipper. Louvain: Peeters, 1990.
——. “Le flamine de Jupiter, les Vestales et le général triumphant: Variations romaines sur
le thème de la figuration des dieux”. Le Temps de la réflexion 7 (1986): 213–30.
——. Religion et piété à Rome. Textes a l’appui: Histoire classique. Paris: Éditions la
Découverte, 1985.
——. “Le prêtre et le magistrate: Réfexions sur les sacerdoces et le droit public à la fin de la
République”. Pages 243–80 in Des ordres à Rome. Publications de la Sorbonne: Histoire
 sacral purity and social order in ancient rome 309

ancienne et médiévale 13. Edited by C. Nicolet. Paris: Publications de la Sorbonne,

1984.
——. “Le délit religieux dans la tardo-républicaine”. Pages 117–71 in Le délit religieux dans
la cité antique. Collection de l’École française de Rome 48. Edited by Mario Torelli.
Rome, 1981.
Schultz, Celia E. Women’s Religious Activity in the Roman Republic. Studies in the History of
Greece and Rome. Chapel Hill, N.C.: University of North Carolina Press, 2006.
Sourvinou- Inwood, Christiane: “What is Polis Religion?” Pages 295–322 in: The Greek City:
From Homer to Alexander. Edited by M. Oswyn and S. Price., Oxford: Clarendon Press,
1990.
Szemler, George J. “Priesthoods and Priests Careers in Ancient Rome”. Aufstieg und Nieder-
gang der römischen Welt 16.3: 2314–31. Part 2, Principate, 16.3. Edited by H. Temporini
and W. Haase. Berlin: de Gruyter, 1986.
——. The Priests of the Roman Republic: A Study of Interactions between Priesthoods and
Magistracies. Collection Latomus 127. Bruxelles: Latomus, 1972.
Thomas, Carol G. “Wingy Mysteries in Divinity”. Pages 1979–95 in Voice into Text: Orality
and Literacy in Ancient Greece. Mnemosyne: Supplementum: Collana 157. Edited by
L. Worthington. Leiden: Brill, 1996.
Ulf, Christoph. Das römische Lupercalienfest: Ein Modellfall für Methodenprobleme in
der Altertumswissenschaft. Impulse der Forschung 38. Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche
Buchgesellschaft, 1982.
Vanggaard, Jens Henrik. The Flamen: A Study in the History and Sociology of Roman Religion.
Copenhagen: Museum Tusculanum Press, 1988.
Vernant, Jean-Pierre. “Formes de croyance et de rationalité en Grèce ancienne”. Archives
de sciences sociales des religions 63 (1987): 115–23.
——. Mythos und Gesellschaft im alten Griechenland. Translated by G. Rossler. Frankfurt
on the Main: Suhrkamp, 1987.
Versnel, Hendrik S. Triumphus: An Inquiry into the Origin, Development and Meaning of the
Roman Triumph. Leiden: Brill, 1970.
Wissowa, Georg. Religion und Kultus der Römer. Handbuch der klassischen Altertums-
Wissenschaft in systematischer Darstellung 5,4. 2d ed. Edited by I. von Müller. Munich:
Beck, 1912. Repr., Munich: Beck, 1971.
——. “Supplicationes”. Pages 942–51 in vol. 4,A,1 of Paulys Real-Encyclopädie der classis-
chen Alterthumswissenschaft. Edited by W. Kroll. 49 vols. Stuttgart: Metzler, 1931.
Ziehen, L. “Panathenaia”. Pages 457–93 in vol. 18,3 of Paulys Real-Encyclopädie der classis-
chen Alterthumswissenschaft. Edited by K. Ziegler. 49 vols. Stuttgart: Metzler, 1949.
Ziolkowski, Adam. “Cleaning-Up of the City: From the Lupercalia to the Argei”. Ancient
Society 29 (1998–1999): 191–218.
 FORMS AND FUNCTIONS OF PURITY IN LEVITICUS

Christophe Nihan

1. Introduction

Notions related to purity and pollution play a major role in Leviticus,

probably more so than in any other book of the Hebrew Bible, if we except
the case of Numbers.1 The following essay is a general survey of notions of
purity and pollution found in Leviticus, using an approach that combines
philological, historical and social-scientific insights. It discusses the various
forms and representations of pollution in Leviticus and seeks to explain
them in terms of their social and ideological function in the context of
the ancient society that produced this writing. Contrary to other studies,
which have usually treated Leviticus as part of a broader tradition within
the Pentateuch (the so-called ‘Priestly source’, or P), this analysis will focus
on the final form Leviticus as a separate ‘book’ within the Pentateuch.2
Discussing concepts of purity and pollution in Leviticus raises the cen-
tral question of the genre and nature of the material preserved in that book.
As with many other aspects of the religion of ancient Israel, the Hebrew
Bible represents virtually our only source of information about concepts
of purity and impurity before the Hellenistic period.3 However, contrary

1 This is already shown by the occurrence of the main terms for ‘clean’ and ‘unclean’
in the Hebrew Bible, ṭhr and ṭmʾ; almost half of the occurrences of these two roots can
be found in Leviticus alone. The verb ṭmʾ occurs 162 times in the Hebrew Bible, 85 of
which are in Leviticus; the corresponding term ṭāmē’ ‘unclean’ occurs 88 times overall, 47
in Leviticus alone. Likewise, the verb ṭhr occurs 94 times in the Hebrew Bible, 43 in Leviti-
cus; only the term ṭāhôr ‘clean’ does not entirely follow this general rule (96 occurrences
in the Hebrew Bible, of which 21 are in Leviticus). On purity and pollution in Numbers, see
the essay by C. Frevel in this volume.
2 Compare, e.g., Wright, “Spectrum”; Jenson, Graded Holiness, esp. 40–55. This is also
true of studies that have focused on concepts of purity and pollution in a portion of Leviti-
cus, such as chs. 11–15, rather than on the book as a whole; compare, e.g., Milgrom, “Ratio-
nale”; Marx, “L’impureté”.
3 In other words, if it were not for the biblical texts, we would simply have no idea of
the role played by the distinction between ‘pure’ and ‘impure’ in the social and religious
life of ancient Israel. This assertion may be slightly qualified if we take into account the
possibility that some of the apocryphal and pseudepigraphic traditions, in which purity
concepts sometimes also play a major role, may actually go back to the Persian period. I
am thinking, in particular, of the core traditions constituting the “Book of the Watchers”
312 christophe nihan

to other sources in Antiquity, such as, for instance, public inscriptions or

archaeological remains, Leviticus cannot be used as primary evidence for
popular beliefs pertaining to purity and pollution. Although it is likely to
contain earlier instructional material, the book as such is a literary com-
position that was produced by a group of scribes closely associated with
the temple in Jerusalem and that probably served first and foremost for
the education of elites. Thus, from a social-scientific perspective, it would
be naïve to read issues of pollution and purification in Leviticus as if that
book were a mere report of contemporary practices, without taking into
account the book’s literary and ideological character.
For this reason, this study will begin with a brief assessment of the ori-
gins of the book of Leviticus and its intended audience, in order to define a
general framework for understanding the possible functions of the instruc-
tions about pollution and purification that are laid out in that book (§ 2).
The discussion will then address the two main forms of pollution defined
in Leviticus, namely, physical (§ 3) and moral (§ 4) impurities. Basically,
it will be argued that these two forms of pollution are complementary
in that they represent an attempt to establish a form of social control
over phenomena perceived either as external or internal threats against
the integrity of the social group (‘Israel’) to which Leviticus is addressed.
Furthermore, whereas these two forms of pollution have distinct origins
and distinct effects, they are partly unified into a comprehensive system
of purification, which is itself centered on the temple and its sacrificial
rituals. Finally, in a further section (§ 5), we will try to see how it is possi-
ble to correlate this interpretation of pollution in Leviticus with the social
milieu that produced this book during the Persian period.

2. The Composition of Leviticus in the Persian Period

Like the other books of the Pentateuch, Leviticus is a composite writing.

There are many indications that the rules for sacrifices in Lev 1–7 and for

in 1 Enoch (1 En. 1–36), especially the story of the angelic watchers’ descent to engage in
sexual intercourse with human women and the ensuing contamination of the earth in 1 En.
6–11, which is usually regarded as the oldest section in the Book of the Watchers. While I
am quite ready to accept the view that some portions of the Book of the Watchers may go
back to the fifth or fourth century bce, this material has been so heavily reworked during
the Hellenistic period that it is not easy to isolate that pre-Hellenistic layer. Otherwise, the
evidence brought by archeological and epigraphic data is usually limited and mostly nega-
tive (e.g., the absence of pig bones in Israelite settlements during the Iron Age).
 forms and functions of purity in leviticus 313

various cases of impurity in Lev 11–15, in particular, had a complex genesis.

The various rules contained in these two sections are not homogeneous
but are characterized by numerous tensions and repetitions, pointing to a
process of gradual composition.4 Furthermore, scholars have traditionally
assumed that many of the rules in Lev 1–7 and 11–15 had their origin in
one or more collections of priestly instructions that were handed down
by generations of priestly families at the central sanctuary in Jerusalem
(and, possibly, in Samaria as well).5 This opinion is supported by many
observations and is most likely correct. For instance, the instruction
about edible and non-edible animals in Lev 11:2–23 has a close parallel in
Deut 14:3–20. Apparently, both Lev 11 and Deut 14 reflect separate adap-
tations, in Leviticus and Deuteronomy, of an earlier tradition of dietary
rules.6 On a more general level, several passages in the Hebrew Bible attest
to the fact that one of the basic meanings of the term tôrāh, in biblical
Hebrew, is an instruction (or a ‘teaching’) delivered by priests on matters
regarding issues pertaining to the offering of sacrifices and the treatment
of impurity.7 Significantly, each of the instructions for purity defined in
Lev 11–15 concludes with a similar subscription summarizing that legisla-
tion and beginning with the following sentence: ‘This is the tôrāh (teach-
ing) for X . . . (zoʾt tôrat-X)’; a similar formula occurs in some passages of
Lev 1–7.8 These and other observations corroborate the traditional view
that Leviticus is rooted in a tradition of instructional material for priestly
performance at central sanctuaries in Jerusalem and in Samaria.9 This

4 For instance, some passages imply that only the carcasses of unclean animals are
polluting (Lev 11:8, 24–28; see also Lev 5:2), whereas another rule extends this principle to
domestic quadrupeds as well (Lev 11:39–40).
5 On the reconstruction of such instructional material in Lev 1–7 and 11–16, see my
analysis of the evidence (with discussion of the relevant scholarly literature) in Nihan,
Priestly Torah, 150–268 and 269–379 respectively. Today, scholars are much more skeptical
about identifying similar material in the last section of the book (Lev 17–27), tradition-
ally designated as the ‘Holiness Code’ or, better, the ‘Holiness legislation’, which is usually
regarded as a later compositional stratum within the book with little earlier instructional
material.
6 For a recent discussion of this phenomenon and its significance for recovering the
instructional background underlying Leviticus, see Nihan, “Clean and Unclean Animals”.
7 See especially Deut 24:8; Ez 22:26; 44:23; Zeph 3:4; Hag 2:11. The same notion is also
found in Lev 10:10.
8 See Lev 11:46–47; 12:7; 13:59; 14:54–57; 15:32–33; compare also, with a different formula-
tion, Lev 6:2, 7, 18; 7:1, 11, and 37.
9 More specifically, some of the collections of instructions now found in Leviticus may
have originated as ‘checklists’ of sorts for priestly specialists, the purpose of which was
to set in written form the standard order for the performance of a given ceremony. The
existence of such ritual ‘checklists’ is well attested in the Ancient Near East, especially in
314 christophe nihan

conclusion suggests that recent attempts to disconnect Leviticus entirely

from actual cultic practices in ancient Israel are likely to be mistaken.10
These remarks are important for situating the origins of Leviticus
from a social and historical perspective. However, when it comes to the
book in its final shape, it is equally clear that we cannot restrict its func-
tion to that of a mere priestly ‘manual’ or a transcript of sorts of ritual
performances at central sanctuaries in Jerusalem and Samaria. In the
canonical book of Leviticus, instructions concerning the offering of sac-
rifices and the measures to be taken in case of various forms of pollu-
tion are no longer presented as specifically priestly knowledge but as
divine laws revealed to the ethnic group identified as ‘Israel’ at Mount
Sinai (see Lev 1:1–2a). Furthermore, these laws are completed in Lev 17–26
by a collection of additional rules about communal ethics (see especially
chs. 18–20) and the celebration of major festivals (chs. 23–25). Last but
not least, this complex collection of instructions is organized according
to a narrative pattern, the center of which comprises the account of the
consecration of the first priests and the inauguration of the sacrificial cult
in Lev 8–10, which itself follows the completion of the wilderness sanctu-
ary at the end of Exodus (see Exod 40:34–35).11 Concretely, this means that

Ugarit, in Ebla, and in Babylon. For a recent discussion of that issue, see Nihan, Priestly
Torah, 215–19.
10 Such attempts to disconnect the instructional material contained in Leviticus from
actual ritual practice are evident in some recent works. Compare, e.g., Bergen, Reading
Ritual, 4, who states: “I am not assuming that the text of Leviticus 1–7 was ever actually
used as the basis for the correct forms of offering animal sacrifices”. A little further, Bergen
also states that the very existence of the text of Leviticus is “a sign of the absence of ritual”
(Reading Ritual, 7). In similar fashion, Douglas, Leviticus, typically seeks to understand
the book as ‘literature’, which for her apparently means that it has little if anything to do
with the cult effectively practiced in the period when the book was composed. I certainly
agree that it would be naïve to assume that the book simply ‘mirrors’ actual cultic practice
at the time when it was composed. Yet this does not mean that Leviticus was completely
detached from the rituals effectively performed in Jerusalem or in other central sanctuar-
ies, or that it should be understood as an ‘alternative’ of sorts to these practices; the rela-
tionship between the literary ‘text’ of Leviticus and existing ‘rituals’ could also (and, in my
view, more likely) be a complementary one. This issue can only be settled if we consider
the more general question of the function of the Pentateuch in the Persian period, as well
as its intended audience. See below.
The general issue of the relationship between ‘text’ and ‘ritual’ in Leviticus has been the
subject of some important discussion lately. See especially Watts, Ritual and Rhetoric, esp.
27–38; as well as Bibb, Ritual Words, whose work is largely devoted to this very issue.
11 Many scholars have correctly perceived the significance of the account of the inaugu-
ration of the sacrificial cult as a major narrative pivot determining the overall arrangement
of the book; compare, e.g., Blum, Studien, 312–32. For further discussion on this issue, see
Nihan, Priestly Torah, 76–110.
 forms and functions of purity in leviticus 315

whatever earlier instructional material is preserved in Leviticus has been

consistently and thoroughly revised and amplified in order to fit a new
composition, which is itself part of the broader narrative of Israel’s origins
found in the Pentateuch.12
In general terms, the Pentateuch defines what may be termed an
authoritative account of the origins of ‘Israel’, which could be acknowl-
edged in principle by all the groups who claimed to descend from the
former kingdoms of Israel and Judah in Iron Age II, including not only the
various diaspora groups established in Babylon, in Egypt, or in Susa, but
even the inhabitants of the province of Samaria who worshipped YHWH,
the patron deity of Israel and Judah, at the sanctuary on Mount Gerizim
during the Persian and Hellenistic eras. To that effect, the Pentateuch
combines a series of legal and narrative traditions, which define together
the main features identifying ‘Israel’ as a distinct ethnic group accord-
ing to the prevailing conception in the Ancient Mediterranean, namely, a
shared ancestry (the genealogies of Genesis), a shared history (the exodus
and the march towards the promised land), a shared geography, a com-
mon body of laws and customs, a common deity (YHWH) and, lastly, a
central sanctuary with associated rites.13 In this authoritative account of
Israel’s history, the general function of Leviticus was to provide the main
rites associated with that sanctuary; this is the reason why Leviticus, in
the pentateuchal narrative, follows immediately after the account of the
completion of the sanctuary at the end of Exodus (see Exod 35–40). To
that effect, the earlier collections of priestly instructional material now
preserved in Leviticus were adapted by being re-contextualized and re-
organized in order to fit this new function.14 In addition, the scribes who
composed Leviticus in the Persian period devised several indications

12 Here again, there are indications that this process took place in successive stages.
Scholars generally agree in distinguishing between a ‘Priestly’ (P) composition compris-
ing Lev 1–16, which already presupposes an earlier version of Israel’s origins, and a later
supplement consisting of the ‘Holiness legislation’ (H) found in Lev 17–26 (or 17–27).
13 For a similar view, see, e.g., Davies, “Ethnicity in the Torah”. For a broad-scale attempt
to describe the Pentateuch as a ‘charter’ of sorts, based on various traditions, for the ethnic
group ‘Israel’ in the context of the Persian period, see also Mullen, Ethnic Myths.
14 Regarding Leviticus, Mullen thus observes: “What is clear from the book itself is that
a number of related issues, e.g., sacrifices, priesthood, purity, impurity, etc., all deriving
from the technical world of the cultus, have been collected and edited here to form a
particular view of how ‘Israel’ was to serve YHWH and how it was to preserve itself as a
sanctified, separated people” (Ethnic Myths, 217).
316 christophe nihan

intended to mark it off as a separate unit (or a ‘book’), thus highlighting

its distinctive function and status within the Pentateuch.15
The creation of the Pentateuch is usually dated to the 5th to 4th cen-
turies bce (i.e., the period of Persian, or Achaemenid, domination in
Yehûd), and this dating can be supported both by external and by inter-
nal data.16 The precise circumstances that led to the creation of such a

15 To mention only some of the most obvious evidence: The book has its own, distinct
introduction, and it ends in Lev 27:34 with a subscription (see also 26:46) that marks it
off from the following book (compare Num 1:1). In the narrative of the Torah, Lev 27:34
concludes the divine revelation made at Mount Sinai. The following instructions in
Num 1–10 take place, for their part, “in the wilderness of Sinai” (Num 1:1) and have therefore
a status distinct from the instructions found in Leviticus. Note, further, the way in which
the book is framed by the chronological indications found in the last chapter of Exodus
(Exod 40:17: first day of the first month of the second year after the exodus) and in the first
chapter of Numbers (Num 1:1: first day of the second month of the second year after the
exodus). The two data in Exod 40 and Num 1 define a timeframe of exactly one month (the
first month of the second year), in which the Leviticus narrative takes place. For this and
further observations, see Ruwe, “Structure”; Nihan, Priestly Torah, 69–76. Furthermore, the
last chapter (Lev 27) returns to the issue of offerings made to the temple, thus rounding
off the entire book by branching into the very topic with which the book opens in Lev 1.
(On this, see Douglas, Leviticus, 244.) This device is all the more striking in that Lev 1 and
27 can be viewed as complementary. While Lev 1 (like the rest of chs. 1–7) deals with the
bringing of sacrifices to the temple, Lev 27, for its part, deals with the restitution to the
profane world (i.e., the ‘de-secration’) of things that had been consecrated to YHWH.
Whether or not this means that, at that time, Leviticus was already written on a sepa-
rate scroll is more difficult to assess, since we have no material evidence for individual
Leviticus scrolls before the 2nd and the 1st centuries bce. From a technical perspective,
however, there is general agreement that the Pentateuch is unlikely to have stood on a
single scroll before the first centuries ce; before that, books such as Samuel or Chronicles
probably represented the maximal size that could be contained in a single scroll, as was
argued by M. Haran and others. Thus, the possibility that Leviticus was already copied
in a single scroll in the Persian period can certainly not be excluded. It must be kept in
mind, however, that in classical Hebrew the term ‘book’ (seper) refers first and foremost
to a conceptual unit, which is not simply equivalent to the material ‘scroll’ (megillāh);
thus, one ‘book’ could encompass several scrolls (as, e.g., in the case of the ‘Book of the
Law of Moses’), or one scroll could comprise several ‘books’ (as in the case of the Twelve
Prophets).
16 At the end of the 3rd century the first Jewish historian writing in Greek, Demetrios
the Chronographer, had already made use of the Greek translation of the book of Gen-
esis in his treatise on Judean kings (circa 220–210 bce), of which some fragments have
survived. Likewise, some of the biblical and parabiblical manuscripts found at the site of
Qumran have shown that the Samaritan version of the Pentateuch goes back to a pre-
Samaritan text-type from the 3rd century bce or even earlier. To be sure, we also know
from the textual evidence at our disposal that the consonantal text of the Torah was not
definitively stabilized before the turn of the era. Yet with one possible exception (the
account of the building of the wilderness sanctuary in Exod 35–40), the variations that
we can observe during the Hellenistic and Roman periods were usually of a limited scope.
Internal evidence in other traditions of the Hebrew Bible points in a similar direction.
Thus, e.g., the account of the Torah’s public reading in Neh 8 (a text possibly going back
 forms and functions of purity in leviticus 317

document, as well as the main groups involved in that enterprise, are not
entirely clear, although it is possible to advance some general observa-
tions. Today, scholars tend to view the creation of the Pentateuch in the
Persian period mostly as a local initiative, which was probably sponsored
by aristocratic families in Jerusalem and—possibly—in Samaria.17 Leading
priestly families were certainly involved in that enterprise, and in the case
of Leviticus specifically it is generally agreed that the composition of that
book was entirely controlled by such priestly families.18
In principle, as noted above, the Pentateuch could be accepted by a
large number of Judeans and Samarians claiming connections with the
ethnic group known as ‘Israel’; this will indeed be the case a little later
in history, in the Hellenistic period. In the context of the Persian period,
however, when only a very small portion of the population had been
trained to read and write, the diffusion of the Pentateuch is likely to have
been significantly more limited. While there is some evidence suggest-
ing that the practice of communal reading or recitation of the Torah (or
of sections thereof ) was already taking place in the Persian period, that
evidence is not sufficient to suggest that such practice was already fully
institutionalized at that time.19 A more likely assumption, argued in detail

to the fourth century bce) suggests that around the end of the Persian period a document
comparable in scope to the canonical Pentateuch was already known in Jerusalem.
17 I tend to join with those scholars who believe the Pentateuch resulted from a com-
promise of sorts between priestly and non-priestly leading families in Judah and Samaria;
compare, e.g., the model sketched by Albertz, History 2, 446–47. One older model (the
so-called ‘imperial authorization’ theory) held that the Pentateuch was created with the
approbation of the Achaemenid administration in order to be enforced as the nomós of
the province of Yehûd. However, this theory has received substantial criticism and is now
generally abandoned. This is not to deny, however, that the creation of the Pentateuch
may be regarded in many respects as encoding a strategy of adaptation to the new politi-
cal, cultural and economic context of the Persian Empire; on this issue, see, e.g., Hagedorn,
“Local Law”.
18 I.e., in terms of the book’s literary history, the two main bodies of traditions that
can be identified behind the present text of Leviticus—namely, ‘P’ and ‘H’; see above,
n. 12—are both unanimously regarded by critics as having originated in priestly circles.
Note that this priestly influence over the composition of Leviticus is still reflected in
the names given to that book in later traditions, such as tôrat kohānîm (‘teaching of the
priests’) in the Rabbinic tradition (e.g., m. Megillah 3:5) or levitikón (meaning ‘belonging to
the priests’ or, alternatively, ‘pertaining to the priests’) in the Greek tradition.
19 Texts prescribing or describing communal recitation of the Torah can be found in
a few traditions of the Persian period: see especially Deut 31:9–13 and Neh 8. However,
the former passage prescribes such recitation only every seven years; the latter describes
public recitation under Ezra but never mentions that it should take place on a regular
basis. Further allusions to communal recitation of the Torah, such as Josh 8:31–35 MT
(= 9:1–2 LXX) or Neh 13:1–3, are no more explicit. All in all, such passages do suggest that
the scribes of the Persian period apparently envisioned a practice of transmission of the
318 christophe nihan

by D. Carr, is that the Pentateuch was first and foremost devised for the
education of a small elite in the Persian-period provinces of Judah and
Samaria, who were trained, most likely at local temples, in order to be
able to occupy various political and administrative roles. Through read-
ing, copying, memorizing or commenting on the Pentateuch, these elite
groups were thus inculcated with a set of central norms and values, which
would then shape their official activities.20
These remarks regarding the origins of the Pentateuch in the context of
the Persian period shed some light on the central issue of the social and
ideological function of Leviticus in the Persian period. Overall, the compo-
sition of Leviticus reflects a stage in the history of ancient Judean society
when what was initially a form of instruction (tôrāh) exclusively reserved
to the priests had become the central part of the educational system of an
elite group claiming to be the heirs of the ethnic group known as ‘Israel’
in the Iron Age II. This development has sometimes been understood to
reflect a ‘democratization’ of sorts of priestly knowledge. However, the
opposite is probably true. With Leviticus, Persian-period scribes were now
educated and even ‘enculturated’ (to use Carr’s expression) into a system

Torah by the agency of communal reading, but they do not support the view that such
practice was already taking place on a regular basis, as per the synagogal celebrations of
later times. For a more positive assessment of the way in which the practice of reading
Torah shaped the final composition of the Pentateuch, see especially Watts, Reading Law.
20 See Carr, “Rise of Torah”; and more generally Carr, Writing, esp. 167–73. According to
Carr the composition of the Pentateuch and its gradual acceptance as ‘Torah’ correspond
to a decisive shift in the educational system of the Second Temple community, whereby
the Torah gradually came to replace traditional wisdom (such as the book of Proverbs)
and related matters (such as hymns) as the “first and most foundational text in the Jew-
ish education curriculum” and the “source of fundamental values on which the rest of
Jewish education is built” (Carr, “Rise of Torah”, 44; for a similar point, see Carr, Writ-
ing, 166–67). Regarding the general thesis that education, in pre-Hellenistic Israel, would
necessarily have been reserved to the training of political and administrative elites, Carr
rightly observes that the people who are described as writing in Israel are always “officials
of some kind: scribes, kings, priests, and other bureaucrats” (Writing, 116). This conclu-
sion does not preclude the possibility that some of the groups behind the composition of
the Torah in the Persian period could consider a broader diffusion of this document. The
book of Deuteronomy, in particular, is characterized by a repeated emphasis upon writ-
ing and teaching, as well as by the rather utopian view of generalized education for all
‘Israel’ that surfaces in some passages of that book (e.g., Deut 6:1–3, 4–9; see Carr, Writing,
134–39). However, the fact that the same emphasis does not appear in other books of the
Pentateuch, especially those of clearly priestly origin such as Leviticus, may indicate that
this view of generalized education was not necessarily shared by all the groups behind the
composition of the Pentateuch, and especially not by the priestly families standing behind
the composition of a book such as Leviticus.
 forms and functions of purity in leviticus 319

of values reflecting a distinctively hierocratic ideal of Judean society, in

which the sanctuary, its cultic personnel and the various rituals associ-
ated with them occupied a central place.21 Before we turn to an analysis
of the related concepts of pollution and purification in Leviticus, it will be
useful to briefly summarize some major aspects of the society described
in Leviticus.
The social organization projected by Leviticus onto ancient Israel con-
sists of three successive areas, which are organized in concentric fash-
ion: at the center lies the temple (or ‘tent of meeting’ in the language
of the Pentateuch), then the community formed by ‘Israel’ (the ‘camp’),
and finally the world outside of the community (the ‘wilderness’).22 These
three areas are related to various hierarchies: between priests and layper-
sons, between males and females, between various types of animals that

21 It is in this respect that the relationship between Leviticus, on the one hand, and the
sanctuaries in Jerusalem and on Gerizim in the Persian period, on the other, should be
viewed as a ‘complementary’ one (see above, note 10). Namely, the discourse contained
in Leviticus educates its Persian-period readers in a certain ‘ritual’ culture, which would
logically consolidate their endorsement of the ritual practices performed at the central
Yahwistic sanctuaries in Jerusalem and Gerizim. In this respect, the relationship between
‘text’ and ‘ritual’ in Leviticus is one of cross-fertilization, not of either/or. In his recent
book, Bibb, Ritual Words, esp. 34–69, comes to a similar conclusion, although he is more
interested in the literary aspect of this process than in its social-historical dimension.
From a social-historical perspective, one may note, the ‘substitution’ model for Leviticus
is hardly likely. If, as recalled above, Leviticus was composed at the library of the Second
Temple under the control of leading priestly families, the very notion that it would have
been construed as an ‘alternative’ or a ‘substitute’ of sorts for the cult becomes largely
problematic.
22 At this point, it needs to be emphasized that this model of society is not simply an
‘allegory’ of sorts that could be ‘decoded’ by merely identifying its various elements with
‘actual’ institutions at the time when Leviticus was composed (e.g., the ‘tent of meeting’ =
the Jerusalem sanctuary, the ‘camp’ = Jerusalem and/or the Judean community, etc.).
Rather, it is a complex literary construct, in which the groups and institutions that are
represented are carefully integrated into the narrative fiction of the wilderness. This is
shown, inter alia, by the fact that the authors of Leviticus themselves distinguish between
the wilderness ‘camp’ and the ‘towns’ in which the Israelites will later live (see especially
Lev 25:29–31, 32–34). Concretely, this means that the sanctuary of Leviticus is more like
an ‘archetype’ of the actual sanctuaries in Jerusalem and Gerizim, just like the wilderness
‘camp’ can be viewed as an archetype of the Judean ethnos in the Persian period. At the
same time, however, there are also indications that the rules defined in Leviticus were
not restricted to the wilderness setting but had a more general relevance. In the case of
purity rules, for instance, one may note that the rules for ṣārāʿat, or ‘scale disease’, after
being defined for human bodies and fabrics (Lev 13:2–46, 47–59), are extended to houses
(Lev 14:33–53), thereby suggesting a continuity of sorts between the wilderness setting and
settled life inside the land. However, the way in which this ‘adaptation’ (or ‘translation’) of
the rules first defined in the wilderness (according to the fiction of Leviticus) should take
place is—deliberately?—left open by the authors of that book and will be, as a matter of
fact, the subject of considerable exegetical discussion in the later Second Temple period.
320 christophe nihan

may or may not serve as offerings, etc. Furthermore, all these boundar-
ies and hierarchies are themselves predicated upon a number of basic
dichotomies, primary among which are the related oppositions between
‘sacred’ and ‘profane’ and ‘pure’ and ‘impure’ mentioned together in one
central passage of the book (Lev 10:10).23 In essence, the division between
sacred and profane identifies specific places (such as the sanctuary), times
(the festivals, described as ‘holy days’ in Lev 23), persons (the priests), ani-
mals, plants and objects that have been set apart from other places, times,
persons, etc., in order to be specifically dedicated to YHWH.24 As a result,
this division in Leviticus tends to be relatively static and easy to circum-
scribe. Some passages in Leviticus suggest a more dynamic apprehension
of holiness, which can be acquired by all Israel. However, holiness in this
case is not a permanent state (as per, e.g., the sanctuary or the priests)
but rather an ideal to be achieved by the Israelites through observance of
the Torah (see Lev 11:44–45; 19:2; 20:7–8; 20:22–26; 22:31–33).25 The divi-
sion between ‘clean’ and ‘unclean’ is in many ways complementary to the
division between ‘sacred’ and ‘profane’, but it is also much more com-
prehensive because it is not restricted to the sphere of the ‘sacred’ but
applies to the ‘common’ as well: whereas a sacred place, person or item
must always remain clean, anyone or anything belonging to the sphere
of the ‘common’ may always be either ‘clean’ or ‘unclean’.26 In addition,
the division between clean and unclean is much more dynamic than the
division between sacred and profane; as we will see, both cleanness and
uncleanness in Leviticus are volatile and transient states, which can easily
be reversed.
From a methodological perspective, the latter observation suggests
that, in order to account for its dynamic dimension, the division between

23 For important observations regarding the relationship between hierarchy and the
clean/unclean dichotomy in Leviticus and in other biblical traditions, see Olyan, Rites and
Rank, esp. 54–61.
24 On the division between ‘sacred’ and ‘profane’, compare also, for instance, the
detailed comments by Jenson, Graded Holiness, 43–54.
25 Furthermore, other passages imply that the holiness that may be acquired by the
Israelites is based upon, and derived from, the ‘static’ holiness that characterizes the sanc-
tuary and sacred times: see especially Lev 19:30 and 26:2. On the relationship between
‘static’ and ‘dynamic’ holiness in Leviticus, especially in Lev 17–26, see further Milgrom,
“Changing Concept”; as well as Regev, “Dynamic Holiness”. See also further below, § 4,
and especially note 74.
26 Compare, e.g., Milgrom, Leviticus 1–16, 616–617; Jenson, Graded Holiness, 53–54. On
the relationship between the oppositions clean/unclean and sacred/profane, compare
also, e.g., the recent comments by L’Hour, “L’impur et le Saint”.
 forms and functions of purity in leviticus 321

clean and unclean in Leviticus is best approached by surveying the vari-

ous forms of pollution and purification that are identified in this book.
Furthermore, as we will see now in detail, the various forms of pollution
can all be classified according to the source of that pollution. This source
can be of two main types: physical (or biological), on the one hand, and
moral, on the other.

3. Physical Pollution in Leviticus

A first type of pollution in Leviticus concerns various physical or biological

phenomena that affect especially the human body but also, by extension,
materials such as houses, fabrics, or domestic utensils. In the scholarly lit-
erature, this form of impurity is frequently referred to as ‘ritual’ impurity,
in opposition to ‘moral’ impurities, because its most obvious implication
is to prevent access for the unclean person to the rituals performed at
the central sanctuary (see especially Lev 15:31).27 However, as will become
obvious in the next section (below, § 4), the ritual dimension is no less
significant in the case of ‘moral’ impurities, so that this terminological
distinction is problematic in several respects. For this reason, I prefer to
refer to this type of pollution as ‘physical’ impurity (or, alternatively, phys-
ical pollution).28 The main rules for this form of pollution are defined in

27 For this distinction between so-called ‘ritual’ and ‘moral’ impurities, see especially
Klawans, Impurity, and the discussion below, § 4. Other scholars, who have seen this diffi-
culty, retain the phrase ‘ritual impurity’ but add a further qualification such as, e.g., ‘physi-
cal ritual impurity’; see for instance Gane, Cult, 51 and passim. In my opinion, such usage
does not settle the basic issue and adds instead more terminological confusion, insofar
as it suggests that there might be something like ‘physical non-ritual impurities’ (but not
‘moral ritual impurities’). Once it is clear that the two main types of impurity in Leviticus
both have a strong ritual dimension, it is better to omit the term ‘ritual’ from the designa-
tion of these two types.
28 Alternatively, one could also speak of ‘biological’ impurities and ‘biological’ pollu-
tion; this usage would not make a significant difference. The phrase ‘natural impurities’,
which is also sometimes employed, seems to me to be ambiguous, since it may induce a
sense of normality, whereas the impurities described in Lev 12–15 are mostly construed as
dangerous phenomena.
An entirely different distinction was offered by Wright, “Spectrum”, who differentiates
for his part between ‘tolerated’ and ‘non-tolerated’ impurities. The distinction has some
merit, but it also raises several difficulties. First, it ignores the fact that, in Leviticus, the
most obvious form of organizing pollution is according to its source, not according to its
tolerated or non-tolerated character. Furthermore, as a classificatory device, the distinc-
tion is not entirely compelling (as Wright himself must partly acknowledge). This is par-
ticularly so in the case of inadvertent transgressions of the law. Such transgressions, which
induce some form of pollution of the sanctuary (see below, § 4), are clearly prohibited
322 christophe nihan

chs. 12–15 of Leviticus. In many ways, these texts are themselves connected
to the complex legislation about clean and unclean animals in Lev 11, so
that these chapters are often treated together. However, the sort of pollu-
tion addressed in Lev 11 is distinct, in several respects, from the physical
impurities discussed in Lev 12–15, so that it is actually better to treat them
separately. I will, however, return at the end of this section to the issue of
the relationship between Lev 11 and Lev 12–15.
As in other collections in Antiquity, the main principle for classifying
impurity in Lev 12–15 is according to the source of pollution. One major
source of pollution identified in this collection is genital organs; genital
pollution is the topic of a series of rules defined in Lev 12 and, above all,
in Lev 15. The latter chapter is made up of two main sections (vv. 2–17
and 19–30) dealing with genital pollution in the case of men and women
respectively. In the case of men, the main form of genital pollution con-
cerns morbid genital discharges, i.e., gonorrhea (15:2–15). Such pollution is
highly contagious and transfers to any object touched by this man, such as
the bed in which he sleeps (15:4–5), an object on which he has been seated
(15:6), a saddle (15:9) or a vessel (15:12). Furthermore, it can also be trans-
ferred to other persons, who thereby suffer from a minor form of impurity
lasting until the end of the day, although the law of Lev 15 suggests some
subtle distinctions according to the nature of the object and the form of
contact.29 Also, the person suffering from morbid genital discharges must
offer a sacrifice in order to be purified when his discharge has ended, to
this effect bringing two turtledoves or two pigeons to the priest (15:13–15).
Occasional, non-morbid discharges of semen, by contrast, are less severe:
the man suffering from such an impurity is unclean until the end of the
day and must bathe his body and wash any fabric or leather touched by
his semen (15:16–17). In the case of women, Lev 15 identifies two sources
of genital pollution: menstruation (15:19–24) and abnormal discharges
of blood outside of the menstrual cycle (15:25–30). In both cases, similar

(i.e., non-tolerated), although they can nevertheless be compensated for through the
appropriate ritual, as described in Lev 4.
29 A person touching the bed (15:5) of the zāb—the man suffering from morbid genital
discharges—or the place where he was seated (15:6) is unclean until the end of the day and
must wash his clothes and bathe his body. The same rule applies if that person touches the
body of that man (15:7), if he is touched by his saliva (15:8), if he carries any of the objects
that the zāb has touched (15:10b), or if he is touched by the zāb if the latter has not washed
his hands first (15:11). However, if a person only touches an object with which the zāb had
contact, he is apparently only impure until the end of the day (15:10a). For further analysis
of the communicability of impurity associated with the zāb and the zābāh in Lev 15, see
especially Wright, Disposal, 181–89.
 forms and functions of purity in leviticus 323

rules of contamination apply as in the case of abnormal male discharges

(compare especially 15:21–22 in the case of contact with the bed where
the menstruant has lain or the object on which she has been seated). The
difference between the two situations resides in the fact that in the case of
an abnormal discharge of blood, the woman must bring the same sacrifice
as the man when her discharge has ended (15:28–30), whereas no such
offering is prescribed for the end of her menstrual cycle. Finally, a short
instruction dealing with pollution caused by sexual intercourse figures at
the transition between the section dealing with male genital pollution
and the section about female genital pollution (15:18); after engaging in
sexual intercourse, both partners are unclean until the end of the day and
must wash their bodies.30
This set of rules is completed in Lev 12 by an instruction concerning the
impurity affecting a woman after she has given birth. That woman suffers
a period of impurity extending to 40 days, in the case of a male child, or
to 80 days, if she had a female child.31 This period is itself divided into
two sub-periods. A first period extends over 7 or 14 days, during which the
woman’s impurity is explicitly identified with female impurity during the
menstrual cycle according to Lev 15:19–24 (compare 12:2b and 5a respec-
tively). This probably means that her impurity has the same contaminat-
ing force as that of the menstruant.32 A second period extends over 33 or

30 Thus, the four main cases addressed in Lev 15 have apparently been arranged accord-
ing to an A-B-X-B’-A’ pattern: abnormal male discharges (A); normal male discharges
(B); sexual intercourse between man and woman (X); female normal discharges (B’); female
abnormal discharges (A’). See especially Milgrom, Leviticus 1–16, 904–5; Whitekettle, “Levit-
icus 15:18”; Hartley, Leviticus, 205–7. However, it must be noted that the correspondence
between ‘normal’ (i.e., non-morbid) male and female discharges (B-B’) is only partial, since
menstruation is defined as being significantly more contaminating than occasional emis-
sions of semen in the case of men.
31 The reason for the double duration in the case of a female child is a classical crux.
The most likely interpretation, in my opinion, is that it compensates for the absence of a
rite of passage comparable to circumcision on the eighth day in the case of male children.
This fits well with the general view, advocated in this section, that the ascription of pol-
lution to certain biological manifestations is first and foremost a means to control those
manifestations that are construed by a social group as presenting a potential threat for the
group’s cohesion and integrity. The main function of a rite of passage such as circumcision
is to mark the admission of the male newborn into the social group and thereby to reduce
that threat; the mother also benefits from this and can be more quickly reintegrated into
her former social status. By contrast, the fact that the duration of the mother’s exclusion
from the group is twice as long in the case of a female newborn highlights the fact that
those newborns, for whom no corresponding rite of passage was devised, present a greater
threat to the group’s internal coherence. See further below.
32 E.g., Milgrom, Leviticus 1–16, 744.
324 christophe nihan

66 days, during which she must not touch anything holy33 nor approach
the sanctuary. At the end of this second period, she must bring a sacrifice
consisting of a year-old lamb and a turtledove or a pigeon for her purifi-
cation (12:6–7; if the woman cannot afford that offering, a less expensive
offering consisting of two turtledoves is prescribed in 12:8). The explicit ref-
erence to the rule of Lev 15:19–24 concerning menstrual impurity in Lev 12
highlights the correspondence between the instructions found in Lev 12
and 15, as well as their complementary role regarding the classification of
genital pollution in Leviticus.
Finally, the other major form of pollution identified in Lev 12–15 is
found in chs. 13–14, which describe various cases in which a person, a fab-
ric or a house may be affected by a form of infection designated as ṣārāʿat.
The etymology of that term is unclear, but it is unlikely to refer to a spe-
cific disease, since the same term is used for various sorts of infections
affecting not only human bodies but also fabrics and houses. Whatever
the original meaning of that term, it was apparently used by the priestly
scribes who composed Leviticus as a generic term describing several infec-
tions, which had in common that they manifest themselves through the
apparition of discolorations, spots, scales, etc. (hence the usual rendering
of this term by ‘scale disease’).34 Although the instructions preserved in
these two chapters are particularly complex, it is possible to identify some
general principles in the arrangement of the collection. A first section
(Lev 13:2–46) deals with ṣārāʿat affecting human beings. Various sub-cases
are identified according to the specific form of the infection appearing
on the surface of the skin: shiny marks (13:2–8); discolorations (13:9–17);
‘boils’ (13:18–23); burns (13:24–28); ‘scalls’ (13:29–37); tetters (13:38–39);
and, finally, baldness (13:40–44). In all these cases, the person must be
examined by a priest, whose diagnosis follows complex criteria enumer-
ated in some detail. The priest may then either declare that person pure
or quarantine him or her for a period of 7 days before further examina-

33 This instruction probably refers to the flesh of the well-being offering in particular,
which is the sole sanctum with which ‘lay’ Israelites are explicitly allowed to have contact
when they are in a state of purity (see Lev 7:20–21), although it might also cover other,
additional instances as well.
34 Regarding the etymology of ṣārāʿat, see the summary of the discussion by Milgrom,
Leviticus 1–16, 775–76, with reference to earlier studies. The fact that the same term can
be used for human bodies, fabrics and houses is a clear indication that the priestly scribes
who composed this instruction were not thinking of a specific disease but were using
this term as a generic concept for a variety of infections such as, e.g., psoriasis in the case
of humans and mold, or fungus, in the case of fabrics and houses. See further Milgrom,
Leviticus 1–16, 816–20.
 forms and functions of purity in leviticus 325

tion. If the subject is eventually declared impure, he or she must leave the
Israelite ‘camp’, i.e., dwell outside of the community (13:45–46).
If that person, after being expelled from the community, no longer suf-
fers from the infection, he or she must be examined anew by a priest (14:3).
The person may then be readmitted inside the camp after submitting to
a complex and expensive ritual extending over eight days. He must first
remain in a transitional state for seven days—inside the camp but out-
side his tent—before he may offer an expensive sacrifice consisting of two
male lambs, one yearling ewe, three tenths of an ephah of semolina mixed
with oil, and one log of oil (14:10; an alternative, less expensive offering is
prescribed in 14:21–32 for poor members of the community), after which
that person is completely purified and fully readmitted into the commu-
nity. These two sets of instructions (in 13:2–46 and 14:1–32) are completed
by two series of instructions dealing with cases in which an infection by
ṣārāʿat is suspected to affect fabrics (13:47–59) or houses (14:33–53).35 As
in the case of Lev 13:2–46, an item of fabric or a house must be submit-
ted to a detailed examination by a priest, who may decide to quarantine
it before a final decision concerning its pure or impure status is made.
Fabric declared unclean must be eliminated by being burnt in the fire
(13:52, 55, 57), whereas in the case of a house the infected stones must be
pulled out and ‘cast outside the city into an impure place’ (14:40–41); if
the infection does not spread out to the rest of the house, the priest may
purify (or decontaminate, ḥṭʾ) the house through a ritual (14:54–57); oth-
erwise the house must be entirely demolished (14:43–45).
As in the case of other sections of Leviticus, there are good reasons to
assume that many of the rules preserved in Lev 12–15 have their origins in
a collection of priestly tôrôt, which may have been handed down either in
oral or written form.36 Another passage of the Hebrew Bible, 2 Sam 3:29,
suggests that the association of genital discharges (zôb) and skin diseases
(ṣārāʿat) was traditional in Israel and that these two forms of pollution
were probably regarded as the most severe forms of bodily uncleanness.

35 The general arrangement of these four sections thus follows an A-B-A’-B’ pattern:
persons (animate), fabrics (inanimate), persons (animate), houses (inanimate); compare
Douglas, Leviticus, 177.
36 For an analysis of the original material preserved in Lev 12–15, see Nihan, Priestly
Torah, 270–83 and 299–301. On the impurity attached in ancient Israel to ṣārāʿat, see also
Num 12:10–15; 2 Kgs 7:3–10; 15:5 // 2 Chr 26:16–21; on the impurity associated with menstru-
ation, see Isa 30:22; Ezek 7:19–20 and 36:17. On the topic of popular aversion to impurity in
ancient Israel, see further the remarks by Wright, “Observations”.
326 christophe nihan

At the same time, however, there are many indications suggesting that
Lev 12–15 is not simply a loose collection of traditional instructions, but that
the scribes who composed that collection carefully edited and adapted the
earlier instructional material to form a coherent composition that fits its
present literary context.37 This observation, therefore, raises a further ques-
tion, namely: What is the general concept of pollution evinced by Lev 12–15,
and what function does it play in the context of the book as a whole?
A classical way of approaching this issue has been to interpret the vari-
ous impurities identified in Lev 12–15 as symbols of more general aspects
of human life, such as death or sexuality. Furthermore, following the lead
of M. Douglas in her 1966 monograph (Purity and Danger), several authors
have related this symbolism to the exhortation to imitate YHWH’s ‘holi-
ness’ that is found at the end of the laws on clean and unclean animals
(Lev 11:44–45; see further 20:25–26).38 For instance, J. Milgrom, building
upon the work of some earlier critics, argued that all of the impurities
addressed in Lev 11–15 were somehow associated with the realm of death.39
As such, they were regarded by the priestly authors of Leviticus as anti-
thetical to the holiness of Israel’s deity, YHWH. In this view, the entire sys-
tem of impurity defined by Lev 11–15 would be predicated upon the life/
death dichotomy and would have as its general purpose the urging of the
Israelites to side with the forces of life against those of death in order to
imitate YHWH’s holiness.40 This line of explanation has been furthered by

37 Note, in particular, the way in which the laws of chs. 13–14 have been framed with
the complementary instructions about pollution caused by birth and by genital discharges
in Lev 12 and 15; for this observation, see, e.g., Douglas, Leviticus, 176. This device highlights
the gravity of the pollution caused by the various forms of infection of the skin, of fabrics
and of houses identified in Lev 13–14, which may lead to the exclusion of an individual
from the community (Lev 13:45–46) or to the destruction of a fabric item or a house.
38 Douglas, Purity, 41–57. Douglas insists on the notion of holiness as wholeness, which
in turn implies that “individuals shall conform to the class to which they belong” (Douglas,
Purity, 53). As such, holiness is the opposite of impurity, defined as the property of those
beings that, within the well-ordered system of creation, fail to conform to their class. Doug-
las concludes her analysis by suggesting that “the dietary laws would have been like signs
which at every turn inspired meditation on the oneness, purity and completeness of God”
(Douglas, Purity, 57). A similar approach is found in several of her later analyses of Leviti-
cus and especially in her more recent monograph on Leviticus (see Douglas, Leviticus).
39 See especially Milgrom, “Rationale”; as well as Milgrom, Leviticus 1–16, 766–68 and
1000–4. Among earlier critics who advocated a similar view, compare, e.g., Dillmann,
Leviticus, 479; Paschen, Rein und unrein, 57–59. Other, more recent authors have adopted
a comparable explanation, see for instance Wenham, Leviticus, 188, or Hartley, Leviticus,
140–47, esp. 145. Even scholars who are generally cautious about the relevance of ‘symbolic’
approaches to Leviticus have emphasized the importance of death symbolism in connec-
tion with impurity; compare, e.g., Gane, Cult, 200–1.
40 See, e.g., Milgrom, “Rationale”, 106.
 forms and functions of purity in leviticus 327

other recent authors, who proposed to regard the impurities of Lev 11–15
as symbols not only of death but of death and sexuality.41 Since death and
sexuality, in the Hebrew Bible, are the main anthropological features that
distinguish human beings from the deity, the laws of impurity in Lev 12–15
would remind human beings of their mortal condition while at the same
time offering them the possibility to recover, through various rituals of
purification, a state closer to that of the deity himself.42
There can be no doubt that a valid insight lies behind this approach.
Certainly, many (though not necessarily all) of the impurities mentioned
may somehow be related to basic anthropological dimensions such as
death and sexuality. But does this mean that the function of the laws on
physical impurities in Lev 12–15 is to ‘symbolize’ (i.e., to communicate
through symbols) a more or less sophisticated teaching about death and
sexuality? I think that there are good grounds to question this view when
we take a closer look at these texts.
A first, general issue has to do with the fact that it has limited sup-
port in the text of Leviticus itself. There can be little question that read-
ing these rules, or performing them, would have attracted some sort of
symbolic speculation among ancient Israelites; but the extent to which
we are still able to identify such symbolic speculation is an entirely dif-
ferent matter.43 What the symbolism of the laws of Lev 12–15 would have
been is not stated in Leviticus itself; even the connection between impu-
rity and death is nowhere explicit. Moreover, it is not even clear to what
extent these laws should be related to the exhortation to imitate YHWH’s

41 See especially Wright, “Unclean”, 379; Wright, “Holiness”; and Marx, “L’impureté”. A
similar approach is suggested by Klawans, “Pure Violence”, 140–49.
42 Wright, “Holiness”; Marx, “L’impureté”, esp. 382–84. Both authors relate this view to
the story of the expulsion of the first couple from Eden in Gen 3 and argue that, for the
priestly authors of Lev 11–15, the laws of purification would have been made necessary by
this inaugural event.
Of late, this symbolic approach relating purification to the imitation of YHWH’s holi-
ness has been developed by Klawans, Purity. Klawans argues, in particular, that “ritual
purification involves a process of separating from these aspects of humanity that make
one least God-like, as a preparation for a number of sacrificial performances (selecting,
killing, looking into, and consuming) that are much more God-like” (Purity, 72). For a
general critique of Klawans’ approach, see the relevant observations by Hundley, Priestly
Tabernacle, 21–23.
43 See the similar remarks by Hundley, Priestly Tabernacle, 22–23. In his critique of Kla-
wans, Hundley observes that the latter’s symbolic interpretation is often ‘non-verifiable’.
Hundley himself does not deny the possibility that the priestly rituals had a significant sym-
bolic dimension but convincingly argues that symbolism is not the ‘driving force’ of such
rituals. He thus concludes: “Instead of being the raison d’être of the ritual system, symbol-
ism merely ‘grows in and around’ sacrificial ritual” (Hundley, Priestly Tabernacle, 23).
328 christophe nihan

holiness, since that exhortation is explicitly related to the dietary laws of

Lev 11 exclusively (Lev 11:44–45; 20:25–26). In the case of the rules con-
tained in Lev 12–15, it is not said that the general rationale for observing
those rules is imitation of YHWH’s holiness; instead, the collection formed
by chs. 12–15 concludes with a general exhortation (15:31) that leaves this
issue entirely out. Even if it can legitimately be argued that there is also
no reason to entirely dissociate the rules regarding physical impurities in
Lev 12–15 from the general theory about personal and collective sanc-
tification in Leviticus, the difference in this respect between Lev 11 and
12–15 still requires that it be taken seriously. In other words, the symbolic
approach, when applied to Lev 12–15, is not only very general, it also con-
sistently runs the risk of imposing upon these texts an interpretation that
is foreign to them.44
Another, further issue has to do with the fact that the symbolism so
identified is clearly unable to account for the various phenomena cited as
sources of pollution in Lev 12–15. For instance, it is certainly possible to
identify death symbolism in Lev 13:45–46, because the meṣorāʿ (the person
suffering from a skin disease of the ṣārāʿat type) must tear his clothes,
dishevel his hair and cover his moustache—all typical signs of mourn-
ing; another passage, Num 12:12, also clearly seems to associate ṣārāʿat
and death.45 But it seems much more difficult (if not entirely arbitrary)
to associate the same symbolism with birth (Lev 12) or sexual intercourse,
for example.46 Furthermore, if death symbolism were so preeminent in

44 A fine case in point concerns the general prohibition against approaching the sanc-
tuary in a state of impurity (Lev 15:31 and passim). Does such a prohibition aim at high-
lighting the possibility for Israelites to achieve a status more ‘god-like’, as per Klawans and
others, or does it serve primarily as a reminder of their mortal condition? In the case of
ancient Greece, where we find similar prohibitions, R. Parker has convincingly argued that
the latter rationale applied: “By banning birth, death, and also sexuality from sacred places,
the Greeks emphasize the gulf that separates the nature of god and man. (. . .) Excluded
from a temple because of the birth of a son, a Greek is reminded, perhaps, that his son
has been born to replace himself, and die in his turn, while the gods persist in splendid
immortality” (Parker, Miasma, 66).
45 On this association, see further, e.g., Gorman, Ideology, 132 and 152ff.
46 Even the common notion that the loss of blood in the case of genital discharges
would symbolize death because blood, in the Hebrew Bible, is the seat of life (e.g., Mil-
grom, Leviticus 1–16, 767–68 and 1002; similarly Harrington, Impurity Systems, 29) is prob-
lematic. As rightly emphasized by some authors, blood symbolism, in the Hebrew Bible,
is a complicated issue. For instance, it is nowhere said that the blood of cuts and wounds
is contaminating (as noted, e.g., by Frymer-Kensky, “Pollution”, 401). Furthermore, if the
issue underlying pollution beliefs attached to menstrual blood was the fear of death, it is
difficult to understand why the legislation omits entirely the case of more lethal wounds
(Whitekettle, “Levitical Thought”, 377).
 forms and functions of purity in leviticus 329

the laws of Lev 12–15, it would be difficult to understand the complete

absence of any rule pertaining to the impurities caused by contact with a
corpse, such as can be found in some passages of Numbers.47 Approaching
the impurities of Lev 12–15 as symbols of death and sexuality, rather than
of death only, is more comprehensive but likewise faces some significant
difficulties. In particular, this approach ignores the fact that it is not so
much sexuality as such that is regarded as a major source of pollution, but
rather genital discharges that, because they take place outside of sexual
intercourse, indicate a temporary dysfunction of male and female geni-
tal organs (Lev 15:2–15, 25–30). Sexual intercourse, by contrast, only rep-
resents a minor source of pollution (Lev 15:18), and it is significant that
this case is not even mentioned in the final summary of Lev 15 (compare
15:32–33).48
This last observation opens the way to another approach to the con-
ceptual coherence of the collection on impurities in Lev 12–15.49 With
the exception of sexual intercourse, all the other impurities identified in
this collection are biological phenomena that intrude into the domestic
sphere and evince a loss of control by the individual over his or her body
or, alternatively, over major artifacts of domestic use: spots or discolor-
ations appearing on human skin (Lev 13:2–44), on fabrics (13:47–59) or
houses (14:33–53); unintentional discharges of semen, for a man (15:2–15,
16–17), or, for a woman, losses of blood during or outside her menstrual
cycle (15:19–24, 25–30), etc.50 All these phenomena represent, in gen-
eral terms, “the irruption of the biological into social life”, according to
the definition of pollution proposed by L. Dumont in his classical study
of the caste system in India.51 Accordingly, the various rules defined in

47 Compare Num 5:2–4; 19:11–22, and 31:19, and on this the contribution by C. Frevel in
this volume. Leviticus mentions corpse-related impurity for the members of the priestly
families exclusively (Lev 21:1–15).
48 A similar observation is made by Eilberg-Schwartz, Savage, 183–86. It was further
developed in a series of articles by Whitekettle, “Leviticus 12”; Whitekettle, “Levitical
Thought”. However, Whitekettle goes too far when he seeks to interpret all genital impu-
rities in Lev 12 and 15 as manifesting a dysfunction of the reproductive system, since this
interpretation is blatantly contradicted by the fact that sexual intercourse is also consid-
ered polluting.
49 The following discussion takes up, in shortened and revised form, some of my earlier
analyses in Nihan, Priestly Torah, 317–23.
50 Note, significantly, that occasional loss of semen is defined in one passage of the
Hebrew Bible (1 Sam 20:26) as an ‘accident’ (miqrâ), an expression that stresses the unin-
tentional character of that phenomenon.
51 See Dumont, Homo hierarchicus, 85 (“l’irruption du biologique dans la vie sociale”).
More generally, see his analysis of pollution in relation to caste system on pp. 69–85. A
330 christophe nihan

Lev 12–15 for dealing with these impurities may be viewed as an attempt
to re-establish a form of social control over these phenomena. They iden-
tify the degree of contamination involved in each of these forms of impu-
rity, and they prescribe the rituals required for eliminating the pollution,
such as bathing one’s body, washing one’s clothes or—in the most serious
cases—bringing a sacrifice to the sanctuary. As a matter of fact, closer
analysis of the laws of Lev 12–15 shows that there is a consistent relation-
ship between the degree of pollution and the rituals prescribed, the gen-
eral rule of which may be described as follows: the more a phenomenon
identified as a source of pollution exemplifies the loss of social control over
human bodies and domestic artifacts, the more severe the degree of contami-
nation ascribed to it, and the more significant the ritual measures that need
to be taken by the individual in order to eliminate that pollution and recover
a state of purity.
This general principle is especially manifest in the legislation on genital
pollution in Lev 15.52 The fact that morbid discharges of semen, in the case
of men, are ascribed a significantly greater degree of pollution than occa-
sional emissions of semen (15:2–15 and 16–17 respectively) corresponds to
the fact that the former exemplifies the loss of control of an individual
over his own body to a greater degree than the latter; accordingly, this
difference is highlighted by the fact that purification from morbid dis-
charges requires the offering of sacrifices (15:13–15), whereas occasional,

similar interpretation was argued by Parker, Miasma, esp. 59–96, in his analysis of pollu-
tion in ancient Greece.
52 An analysis of the impurities of Lev 15 in terms of control was already proposed
by Eilberg-Schwartz, Savage, 186ff., who made the insightful observation that the most
polluting emissions in Lev 15 are also those that are the least controlled and the least
conscious, or intentional; he thus correctly concluded that there appears to be a direct
relation between the controllability of a bodily fluid and its power to contaminate the
body. “The difference between the ejaculation of semen and the release of nonseminal
fluids or menstrual blood is the difference between a controlled, conscious act and a pas-
sive, involuntary occurrence. (. . .) Nonseminal and menstrual discharges which are less
controllable than semen are also more polluting” (Eilberg-Schwartz, Savage, 187). This line
of interpretation was further developed by Malul, Knowledge, 387ff., who insists for his
part on what he calls the ‘epistemic’ dimension of impurity in Lev 15, which corresponds
to the notion that those emissions that generate uncleanness are the ones flowing from
an unknown source. Both analyses, however, are restricted to the case of genital emissions
in Lev 15 (and, to some extent, in Lev 12) and do not seek to account for the entirety of
Lev 12–15. In addition, they present some objectionable elements, especially in that they
tend to dissociate the case of non-pathological and pathological emissions and to restrict
their interpretation in terms of control to the former, which is unwarranted in my view.
In addition, they also tend to focus on the issue of individual control over the body, rather
than to address the issue in terms of social control over biological phenomena. For a
detailed criticism of these two approaches, see Nihan, Priestly Torah, 312–17.
 forms and functions of purity in leviticus 331

non-pathological emission of semen involves a more lenient ritual of

purification (i.e., bathing one’s body). In the case of women, loss of men-
strual blood is not just an isolated event but lasts over a period of several
days (seven, according to 15:19b); accordingly, it is assigned a degree of
contamination identical to pathological discharges of semen (15:19–24).
However, contrary to the loss of blood outside of the menstrual cycle
(15:25–30), regular menstrual blood does not require the offering of a sac-
rifice. Obviously, therefore, female loss of blood outside of the menstrual
cycle is treated as a more serious form of pollution because it is abnormal
and therefore represents for the woman a more serious loss of control
over her own body.
The same analysis can be extended to the other forms of impurity iden-
tified in Lev 12–15. The birth of a child (Lev 12) does not only represent a
major disruption of the social order.53 It also goes along with a series of
changes in the woman’s body over which she has no control, including
the loss of blood and other fluids during and after birth, which temporar-
ily set her apart from the rest of society. Accordingly, the greater period
of impurity for the woman after birth precedes the circumcision of her
child, if it is a male (seven days, Lev 12:2b, circumcision taking place on
the eighth day: Lev 12:3, and likewise Gen 17:12), which itself marks the
social acceptance of the child by the community; in the case of a female
child, that period is doubled, presumably in order to compensate for the
absence of a similar rite. The following period of 33 days (66 in the case of
a female child) is defined as ‘the days of her purification’ and corresponds
to the period of recovery of her ‘normal’ (usual) reproductive functions.54
In the case of Lev 13–14, finally, persons or artifacts affected with a form of
ṣārāʿat pollution must be removed from the community, either by being

53 As noted by Parker, Miasma, birth and death are major transitions over which society
has no real control (contrary to other transitions, such as marriage for instance). Accord-
ingly, in many traditional societies birth and death are typically associated with a signifi-
cant degree of pollution. This association legitimizes in turn the establishment in these
societies of various rites of purification (usually in the form of rites of passage), which
enable society to reassert its control over such biological phenomena. “(. . .) While mar-
riage is a controlled event, birth and death intrude on human life at their own pleasure.
They are an irresistible ‘irruption of the biological into social life’. (. . .) The accompanying
rites of passage can be seen as reassertions of control; the baby, thrust rudely into the
world by nature, still requires social acceptance, and the shade will not be able to reach
the world of the dead unless the due rites are performed. (. . .) Marriage, by contrast, is not
an intrusion that requires sealing off, but is itself a harness set upon the rebellious body”
(Parker, Miasma, 63).
54 As observed, in particular, by Whitekettle, “Leviticus 12”.
332 christophe nihan

expelled from it in the case of persons (13:45–46) or by being destroyed

in the case of fabrics or houses (or portions thereof, see 14:40–42). The
reason for the particular severity of this form of pollution has apparently
to do with the fact that ṣārāʿat, in the case of human beings, was con-
sidered a divine punishment, as several passages in the Hebrew Bible
suggest (see Num 12:9; 2 Kgs 5:27; 2 Chr 26:18ff.).55 This is also consistent
with the fact that the main sacrifice that the former meṣorāʿ must offer is
an ʾāšām, a sacrifice of reparation (see Lev 14:12–18; further 14:23–29), a
type of offering normally reserved for sacrileges against YHWH (see Lev
5:14–16). Finally, it is of interest to note that fungus was also considered
ominous in Mesopotamia and among the Hittites.56 This would account
well for the association of the rules about fungus of fabrics (Lev 13:47–59)
and houses (Lev 14:33–53) in the general legislation about ṣārāʿat. Overall,
ṣārāʿat impurity is construed, from the perspective of the priestly authors
of Leviticus, as a form of pollution too serious to be contained within the
boundaries of the community, and which can only be controlled by being
removed from the community’s boundaries.
The correlation analyzed here between social control, the degree of
pollution ascribed to a given impurity and the nature of the measures
prescribed for purification can be summarized in the following chart.

Table 1.
Passage Nature of the Degree of impurity Ritual prescribed
impurity
Lev 12 childbirth – major for 7 days (14 in – the woman must
the case of a girl), as inbring a sacrifice to the
the case of menstruation temple at the end of her
– minor (?) for 33 days period of purification,
(66 for a girl) consisting of a lamb and
a dove
Lev 13:2–46 ṣārāʿat of – extreme: the meṣorāʿ – examination by the
persons is excluded from the priest and first ritual
community (Lev 13:45–46), with two birds
and can be readmitted – the former meṣorāʿ
only once he or she has must bathe and can then
been cured (Lev 14:2) reenter the camp, but

55 On this, see further van der Toorn, Sin and Sanction, 72ff.; as well as Milgrom, Leviti-
cus 1–16, 820ff.
56 For Mesopotamia, see especially Meier, “House Fungus”, who discusses the parallel
with Lev 14:33–53; for the Hittite world, compare, e.g., the remarks by Milgrom, Leviticus
1–16, 864–65.
 forms and functions of purity in leviticus 333

Table 1. (cont.)
Passage Nature of the Degree of impurity Ritual prescribed
impurity
not his tent for a period
of 7 days
– on the 7th day, the
former meṣorāʿ must
shave his body and bathe
himself again
– on the 8th day, he
must offer a sacrifice
consisting of two lambs,
one ewe, 3 tenths of an
ephah of flour, and a log
of oil

Lev 15:2–15 morbid male – major (transfers to – when his discharge has
discharges other persons, either ended, the former zāb
directly or indirectly) must bring an offering to
the sanctuary consisting
of two doves
– the person having
contact with an object
touched by the zāb or
with the zāb himself
(if the latter has not
previously washed his
hands, Lev 15:11) suffers
a minor (one-day)
impurity and must bathe
himself and wash his
clothes
Lev 15:16–17 non-morbid – minor (one-day – bathing, washing one’s
male impurity, non- clothes
discharges transferrable)
Lev 15:18 sexual – minor (one-day – bathing
intercourse impurity, non-
transferrable)
Lev 15:19–24 non-morbid – major (transfers to – no ritual prescribed for
female other persons, either the woman
discharges directly or indirectly) – the person having
(menstruation) contact with an
object touched by
the menstruant (or,
presumably, with the
334 christophe nihan

Table 1. (cont.)
Passage Nature of the Degree of impurity Ritual prescribed
impurity
menstruant herself)
suffers a minor (one-day)
impurity and must bathe
himself and wash his
clothes
Lev 15:25–30 morbid female – major (transfers to – when her discharge
discharges other persons, either has ended, the woman
directly or indirectly) must bring an offering to
the sanctuary consisting
of two doves, as in the
case of the former zāb
– the person having
contact with an object
touched by the zābâ or
with the zābâ herself
suffers a minor (one-
day) impurity and must
bathe himself and wash
his clothes

Overall, therefore, the various rules grouped together in Lev 12–15 can be
viewed as exemplifying a concern for re-establishing a form of social con-
trol, through the ascription of various degrees of pollution and the defini-
tion of corresponding rituals of purification, over a number of biological
phenomena that exemplify a significant loss of control by individuals over
their bodies or major domestic artifacts. Whereas one person suffering
from a severe impurity—such as, e.g., morbid genital discharges in the
case of men and women—may theoretically contaminate the entire com-
munity, the Israelites, by observing the rules of Lev 12–15, are rendered
able to prevent the diffusion of uncleanness and to preserve the general
purity of the community living in proximity to the sanctuary (the wilder-
ness ‘camp’, in the language of Leviticus). As such, the general function of
this system of rules is to present the Israel of Leviticus as a model of order
and social control over against various organic forces perceived as anomic
and anti-social.57 Moreover, the reason why ‘Israel’, in Leviticus, has to be

57 Compare also Wright, “Spectrum”, 172, who comments about physical (or, in his
terms, ‘tolerated’) impurities: “Impurity, even the simplest, is antisocial. Severe tolerated
 forms and functions of purity in leviticus 335

such a model of social control is the presence of the sanctuary, which,

according to the Exodus narrative, stands in the ‘middle’ (Heb. betok) of
the community (see Exod 40:34–35, and 25:9; 29:45–46) and is where the
group's patron deity, YHWH, resides. Uncontrolled diffusion of impurity
caused by various biological phenomena presents the permanent danger
that an unclean person may come into contact with the central sanctuary
and thereby defile it. This point is made clear, in particular, in the final
exhortation concluding Lev 12–15:

Lev 15:31 You must set apart (nzr) the members of Israel from their impurity,
lest they die because of their impurity for rendering unclean my dwell-
ing (miškan) which is in their middle.58

The same rationale is evident in other passages of Leviticus dealing with

physical impurities. The parturient is explicitly forbidden to touch ‘any-
thing holy’ and to approach the sanctuary as long as she is suffering from
childbirth impurity (Lev 12:4b). Likewise, a person in a state of impurity is
forbidden to touch the flesh of the well-being offering (see Lev 3), because
that flesh has been offered on the outer altar of the sanctuary and is there-
fore holy (Lev 7:20–21); the same rule applies for the priests in the case
of the well-being offering and other sacrifices (Lev 22:4–8).59 Last but not
least, this is also the reason why priests, who have been consecrated to the

impurities must be restricted, excluded, or eliminated from the Israelites’ habitation. With
them there is thus a degree of social disintegration”.
58 Thus MT; the Samaritan Pentateuch and LXX read zhr instead of nzr, hence: “You
must warn the Israelites about their impurity . . . ”. In my view, MT’s reading should be
preferred; this use of nzr in connection with Israel’s impurities has a close parallel in
Lev 22:2. The rendering adopted here for this verse follows Milgrom, Leviticus 1–16, 903,
with some modifications.
That Lev 15:31 refers to a form of contamination by touch, as is usually assumed (e.g.,
Hoffmann, Leviticus, 430), is disputed by some scholars; compare, e.g., Kiuchi, Purification
Offering, 61–62; Gane, Cult, 146–49. To be sure, it cannot be excluded that 15:31 has in view
other forms of communication of physical impurity. However, it needs to be noted, (a) that
contrary to ‘moral’ impurity (see below), the only form of communication that is explicitly
indicated in Leviticus for physical impurities is by direct contact (unless these impurities
have not been adequately taken care of through the appropriate ritual, in which case they
transform into ‘moral’ impurities); and (b) that the language used in the MT, referring to
the ‘setting apart’ of the Israelites, seems to allude to the various rules prescribing tem-
porary seclusion for the person suffering from a physical impurity, the purpose of which
is precisely to avoid communication of this impurity to other Israelites through contact.
Thus, it should be said at the very least that the most obvious interpretation of Lev 15:31 is
as referring primarily (though not necessarily exclusively) to pollution by contact.
59 Contrary to lay Israelites, who are only allowed to eat the flesh of the well-being
offering, priests are allowed to eat the flesh of minor purification offerings (see Lev 6:19–
23), as well as the remains of the cereal offering (Lev 6:9–11).
336 christophe nihan

service of the sanctuary (see Lev 8) and are therefore also holy (Lev 21:6),
must submit to a greater control over biological sources of pollution: in
particular, they must avoid contact with corpses (Lev 21:1–15) and are not
allowed to eat the carcass of an animal found dead (Lev 22:8; compare
Ezek 44:31).60
In this respect, the legislation about physical pollution in Lev 12–15 and
related passages of the book is in the service of a certain model of society,
the organization of which is entirely centered on the central sanctuary—
a ‘temple-based society’, as one might call it. The consistent separation
between ‘clean’ and ‘unclean’ in Lev 12–15 (see 15:31), as well as the preven-
tion of the diffusion of pollution in the community through observance
of the rules laid out in Lev 12–15, are actually subordinated to the pres-
ervation of another, more central division, between ‘holy’ (the sanctuary
and its precincts) and ‘profane’ (the world outside, including the commu-
nity of ‘Israel’). The society of Leviticus, by exerting a systematic control
over physical impurities, acts like a ‘fence’ around the central sanctuary.
By contrast, the sanctuary itself, with its well-defined divisions between
three separate areas (outer court, outer-sanctum, inner-sanctum), each of
which has a distinct grade of holiness, is defined in that system as the very
center of order and structure.61
Before turning to the next section of this essay, a word is needed
regarding the relationship between Lev 12–15 and Lev 11. Chapter 11 com-
prises an elaborate classification of animal species based upon the dis-
tinction between animals living on the ground, in water and in the air.62
For animals on the ground and in water, specific morphological criteria
are given in order to distinguish between clean and unclean animals (see
Lev 11:4–8 and 9–12 respectively); for birds, however, such criteria are
replaced by a mere list of prohibited species (11:13–20). Also, a further set
of rules is defined for ‘swarming’ creatures (šereṣ) living on the ground

60 According to Lev 21:1–15, priests are allowed to approach a corpse only if the dead
person is close kin (21:1b–4). Any contact with corpses is prohibited, however, in the case
of the high priest (21:11). For lay Israelites, eating the carcass of an animal found dead is not
prohibited but causes a minor form of impurity (Lev 11:39–40; further 17:15–16).
61 The various grades of holiness of the three main areas of the sanctuary (outer court,
outer-sanctum, inner-sanctum) are laid out in the description of the various materials
used for these three areas in Exod 26–27. See on this especially Haran, Temples, esp. 158–
65; further Jenson, Graded Holiness, 89–114.
62 A comprehensive discussion of this complex legislation is beyond the scope of this
essay. For a detailed analysis, involving a thorough discussion of textual and archeologi-
cal data, see Houston, Purity. Regarding the issue of the relationship between Lev 11 and
Deut 14, cf. Nihan, “Clean and Unclean Animals”.
 forms and functions of purity in leviticus 337

(11:29–38 and 41–45) and in the air (11:20–23; ‘swarming’ creatures in water
are merely included in the rules defined in Lev 11:9–12). Animals defined
as ‘unclean’ (ṭāmē’) or, alternatively, ‘abominable’ (šeqeṣ) are prohibited
for consumption, presumably because they render unclean.63 This point
is explicitly made, in the case of swarming creatures on the ground, in
Lev 11:43, 44 (see further also Lev 20:25). Likewise, touching the carcass
of these animals is prohibited and, in the case of unclean quadrupeds,
causes a minor impurity (Lev 11:24–28). The form of pollution addressed in
Lev 11 is obviously different from the one discussed in Lev 12–15, since
it no longer deals with physical impurities affecting human bodies or
domestic artifacts over which Israelites have no control, but concerns the
distinction between animals that may be eaten and animals that may not
(Lev 11:2b-23, 39–40, 41–45), as well as animals whose carcasses com-
municate a form of minor impurity, either directly (11:24–28, 39–40) or
indirectly (11:29–38). Furthermore, since eating and touching animals
defined as ‘unclean’ (or, alternatively, ‘abominable’) obviously involves a
conscious, intentional action, this legislation falls in the general category
of intentional transgression of the divine commands, the second major
source of pollution in Leviticus (below, § 4).64 The difference between
Lev 11 and Lev 12–15 in this respect is emphasized by the fact that the law
of ch. 11, contrary to chs. 12–15, concludes with a general exhortation to
imitate YHWH’s holiness by abstaining from eating land ‘swarmers’ (vv.
44–45), which is taken up later in Lev 20:25–26.
However, the fact that the law of Lev 11 has been placed before the
collection on physical impurities in Lev 12–15 is not entirely unmotivated;
in some respects, Lev 11 can also be viewed as partaking in the legisla-
tion about physical impurities defined in Lev 12–15. On the one hand,
the impurities of Lev 11 do not consistently follow the rules for ‘moral’
impurities defined elsewhere in Leviticus.65 Nowhere, for instance, is it
said that deliberately eating the carcass of an unclean quadruped pollutes
the sanctuary and requires therefore the offering of a ḥaṭṭāʾt sacrifice or
the application of the kārēt penalty (compare, e.g., Lev 18:2–5; and further

63 Regarding the distinction between ‘unclean’ and ‘abominable’ animals, see especially
Milgrom, “Two Terms”.
64 As was already noted by Hoffmann, Leviticus; more recently, see for instance Kla-
wans, Impurity, 31–32; as well as Wright, “Spectrum”, esp. 165–69.
65 See likewise Klawans, Impurity, 31–32; Wright, “Spectrum”, 165–69; most recently
Kazen, “Dirt”, 44.
338 christophe nihan

below, § 4).66 Instead, the penalty for deliberately touching the carcass
of an unclean quadruped, for touching the carcass of a clean, domestic
quadruped found dead, or for eating the flesh of that carcass, is similar to
the ritual measures prescribed in the case of minor physical impurities in
Lev 12–15; the person is unclean until the end of the day and must wash his
clothes (11:24b–25, 27b–28, 39b, 40). On the other hand, the second part of
Lev 11 (vv. 24–38) deals in detail with the pollution incurred by the case in
which the carcass of a land ‘swarmer’ (šereṣ ha-ʾāreṣ) comes into contact
with vessels, cisterns or other domestic utensils (11:29–38). As M. P. Carroll
observed long ago, this case typically constitutes another instance of the
intrusion of the organic, or the biological, into the domestic sphere and
thus builds a parallel with the general topic of the legislation on physical
impurities in Lev 12–15.67
Overall, the position of Lev 11 may be best explained by the fact that it
was regarded by the priestly authors of the book as overlapping the two
major sources of pollution, namely, physical and moral impurities. Some
aspects of the legislation of Lev 11, especially in the second part of that
chapter, vv. 24–42, introduce the topic of physical pollution, which is then
further developed in chs. 12–15. At the same time, Lev 11 also prepares for
the topic of the relation between pollution and the transgression of moral
commands, which will be more fully developed later in Leviticus, espe-
cially in chs. 18–20. This aspect is further emphasized, at the end of ch. 11,
by the exhortation to imitate YHWH’s holiness by abstaining from eating
land ‘swarmers’, which, through the parallel with Lev 20:25–26, builds an
‘envelope’ of sorts around Lev 11–20.68 This observation already points to
the more general issue of the relation between ‘physical’ and ‘moral’ pol-
lution in Leviticus, to which we must now turn.

66 As noted, e.g., by Levine, Leviticus, 64–65; Wright, “Spectrum”, 165–66. Levine, how-
ever, wants to infer the obligation for a person to bring such a ḥaṭṭāʾt sacrifice when he or
she has eaten a prohibited animal or has had contact with the carcass of one of the ani-
mals mentioned in Lev 11:39–40, on the basis of Lev 5:2. Yet this inference is unwarranted.
Lev 5:2 deals with the specific case of a person who contracted impurity by touching an
unclean animal but was apparently not aware that he or she had become unclean; thus, it
is altogether an entirely distinct case. See also the critical remarks by Wright, “Spectrum”,
165–66 n. 2. For a recent discussion of Lev 5:2, cf. Nihan, Priestly Torah, 239–41; see also
further below, § 4, on this passage.
67 Carroll, “Leviticus Revisited”, esp. 121; compare also Milgrom, Leviticus 1–16, 686.
68 This point has often been observed; compare, e.g., Blum, Studien, 319 and 323–24.
 forms and functions of purity in leviticus 339

4. Moral Pollution in Leviticus

Other texts in Leviticus relate pollution to the transgression of divine

laws, which are designated in Leviticus as ‘statutes’ (ḥuqqot) or ‘customs’
(mišpaṭîm). We may therefore refer to this form of pollution as ‘moral’
impurity, in contrast to the physical impurities identified in Lev 12–15 and
related passages. This conception is especially manifest in Lev 18 and 20.
Lev 18 opens with a general exhortation addressed to Israel not to observe
the ‘statutes’ of the nations who previously occupied the land and to
observe instead the statutes and customs established by YHWH for Israel
(18:2–5). There follows a lengthy enumeration of various prohibited sexual
practices (18:6–18), all of which involve sexual intercourse with women
who are of the same kin, either by affiliation (mother, sister, granddaugh-
ter, etc.) or by alliance (sister-in-law, daughter-in-law, etc.).69 This list is
itself followed by a further, shorter list of illicit sexual practices (18:19–23)
involving sexual intercourse with a menstruant (v. 19), with a neighbor’s
wife (v. 20), with another man (v. 22), and with a beast (v. 23); in addi-
tion, a prohibition against dedicating one’s child to the god ‘Molech’ has
been included in v. 21.70 The chapter concludes with a long exhortation
(18:24–30), which takes up the language of vv. 2–5 but this time explicitly
relates the observance of YHWH’s ‘statutes’ and ‘customs’ to the purity of
the land given to Israel.

Lev 18:24–30 24
Do not defile yourselves by any of these (practices), for by all
these (practices) the nations I am casting out before you defiled
themselves. 25Thus the land became defiled; and I called it to
account for its iniquity, and the land vomited out its inhabit-
ants. 26You, however, must keep my statutes and my customs
and commit none of these abominations, neither the native nor
the alien who resides among you; 27for all these abominations
the people in the land who were before you did, and the land
became defiled. 28So let not the land vomit you out for defiling
it, as it is vomiting out the nation that was before you. 29For all
who commit any of these abominations—such persons shall be
cut off from their kin. 30So you will heed my prohibitions not to

69 For discussion of the main rationales of this complex legislation from a social-
anthropological perspective, see Rattray, “Marriage Rules”.
70 The rationale behind the inclusion of this prohibition in the list of vv. 19–23 is prob-
ably that a man’s offspring belongs to YHWH and may not be ‘given’ to another deity. See
further Nihan, Priestly Torah, 437–38.
340 christophe nihan

commit any of these customary abominations that were done

before you, and not defile yourselves by them; I am YHWH, your
God.71

The overall conception of this central passage is clear and can be briefly
summarized. Earlier ethnic groups who occupied the land have defiled
themselves through their customs; as a result, the land itself was rendered
unclean (ṭmʾ) and vomited out its former inhabitants. In order to avoid the
same fate, Israelites are called to observe the laws and customs divinely
revealed to them by YHWH; transgression of these same laws and customs,
by contrast, would again lead to defilement of the land (and, accordingly, to
the expulsion of its new inhabitants, namely, the Israelites themselves).
This conception is further developed in Lev 20, a chapter that evinces
many parallels with Lev 18 and that can be viewed as a complement to
that legislation.72 The law of ch. 20 opens with the case of a man dedicat-
ing his son to ‘Molech’, which develops the prohibition already found in
18:21. The main body of that legislation defines sanctions for various forms
of illicit sexual relationships (Lev 20:10–21), which take up many of the
relationships already addressed in Lev 18:6–23. The chapter ends with a
long exhortation (20:22–26), the first part of which (vv. 22–24a) repeats, in
shortened fashion, the central exhortation of Lev 18:24–30. The land was
given by YHWH to Israel because its former inhabitants were ‘loathed’ by
him on the grounds of their abominable practices (20:23–24a); accord-
ingly, Israelites must observe YHWH’s laws and customs so as not to be
‘vomited out’ by the land (20:22). The second part of the exhortation, how-
ever, introduces a new assertion vis-à-vis Lev 18:

Lev 20:24b–26 I am YHWH, your God, who has set you apart from the (other)
24b

peoples. 25So you shall set between the clean beast and the
unclean one, and between the unclean bird and the clean one,
and so you shall not defile your throats with a beast or a bird or
anything which crawls on the ground, which I have set apart for
you to treat as impure. 26You shall be holy to me, for I, YHWH,

71 I follow here, again with some modifications, the translation by Milgrom, Leviticus
1–16, 1515–16. The text is well preserved in the main manuscript traditions and does not call
for further text-critical observations.
72 Further on the relationship between Lev 18 and 20, see Nihan, Priestly Torah, 452–59,
with a discussion of other recent studies on this issue.
 forms and functions of purity in leviticus 341

am holy; therefore, I have set you apart from the peoples to be

mine.73

Whereas non-observance of divine laws leads to pollution of the land,

compliance to these same laws sets Israel apart from the other nations
(v. 24b) and transforms the people into a ‘holy’ (qdš) nation, i.e., a nation
consecrated to YHWH (v. 26). This is because sanctification is defined, in
Lev 20:24b–26, as conformity to the divisions set apart by YHWH him-
self, such as, especially, the division between ‘clean’ and ‘unclean’ animals
defined in Lev 11. Here, as already in Lev 12–15 (see 15:31), the division
between clean and unclean is again explicitly related, and subordinated,
to the division between ‘holy’ and ‘profane’. Yet holiness, in this passage,
is no longer restricted to the sanctuary, the sacrifices and the priests but
is now defined as something that can be acquired by the community of
‘Israel’ as a whole, granted that they observe the divine laws that are con-
tained in the Torah (cf. also Lev 19:2; 20:7–8 and 22:31–33).74
As in the case of the identification of physical impurities, the identifica-
tion of moral impurities evinces an attempt to reestablish a form of social
control over phenomena that are construed as being antithetical to the
preservation of the social order. The difference between moral and physi-
cal impurities, however, lies in the fact that moral pollution no longer
involves a reassertion of control over external phenomena implying the
loss of control by individuals over their bodies or over domestic artifacts,
such as the physical impurities described in Lev 12–15, but over internal
deviations vis-à-vis what are construed as social norms—in the case of

73 My translation. In v. 25b, LXX, Samaritan Pentateuch and Peshitta read ‘for the impu-
rity’ instead of MT ‘for you to treat as unclean’; however, MT’s reading is likely to be origi-
nal in my view. In v. 26a, LXX and Samaritan Pentateuch merely read ‘for I am YHWH’,
instead of MT ‘for I, YHWH, am holy’. This might be an instance of parablepsis, due to the
twofold occurrence of the term qdš in the Hebrew text preserved by MT. Regarding this
central passage in Leviticus, see also especially the study by Ego, “Reinheit”.
74 This is a distinctive feature of the final section of the book, Lev 17–26, the so-called
‘Holiness legislation’; see on this especially Milgrom, “Changing Concept of Holiness”.
However, as noted earlier in this essay (above, § 2), this extended concept of holiness
remains distinct, in Leviticus, from the holiness ascribed to the temple, the festivals and
the priests. It is not a permanent state (as per, e.g., the sanctuary or the priests) but rather
an ideal to be achieved by the Israelites through observance of the Torah, as the various
passages mentioning Israel’s ‘holiness’ in Lev 17–26 make clear. Furthermore, that concept
of holiness is not only derived from the temple’s holiness, it also remains subordinated
to it; in order to achieve sanctification, the Israelites must first and foremost ‘keep’ (i.e.,
observe) the holiness of the sanctuary and of sacred times (Lev 19:30; 26:2).
342 christophe nihan

Leviticus, the laws revealed by YHWH to Israel in the Pentateuch.75 The

general structure of Lev 18 is telling in this regard. The prohibitions them-
selves are organized according to a comprehensive scheme moving from
illicit sexual intercourse within the sphere of the family (vv. 6–16), to the
extended family or clan (vv. 17–18) and finally to Israelite society as a whole
(vv. 19–23).76 Moral pollution, in this comprehensive scheme, encom-
passes the entirety of the social organization of Israel, from the most basic
unit (the nuclear family) to the group as a whole. At the same time, moral
pollution in Leviticus also takes on a marked ethnic dimension, as is made
clear in the exhortations that frame Lev 18 and 20. Contrary to the various
nations that previously inhabited the land and were ‘cast out’ by YHWH,
Israel must observe YHWH’s laws in order to avoid defiling the land (Lev
18:2–5, 24–30). Observing the divine laws and keeping the land undefiled
sets Israel apart from the other nations and concretizes its status as a
‘holy’ people, i.e., a people consecrated to YHWH (Lev 20:22–26).
The distinction between ‘moral’ and ‘physical’ impurities has been the
subject of an extensive discussion by J. Klawans in a monograph devoted
to the relationship between ‘sin’ and ‘impurity’ in ancient Judaism.77
Klawans observes, in particular, the following differences. First, whereas
physical impurities are usually not sinful, moral impurities are always con-
sequences of serious transgressions of the divine laws (i.e., ‘sins’). Second,
the two forms of impurity not only have different origins, they also have
distinct effects. There does not appear to be any contact contagion asso-
ciated with moral impurities; as Klawans puts it, “One need not bathe
subsequent to direct or indirect contact with an idolater, a murderer, or
an individual who committed a sexual sin”.78 Third, whereas physical (or
‘ritual’) impurities are temporary, or impermanent, moral impurities have

75 That moral pollution is often connected with the maintenance or enhancement

of internal boundaries was already convincingly established by Douglas, Purity, 129–39,
who insisted that the divorce between pollution and ethics was a modern view that had
no support in traditional societies. Douglas also insisted that beliefs connecting social
moral transgressions with pollution usually served to uphold the moral code of a society,
especially in situations in which a situation was morally ill-defined, or different moral
principles come into conflict.
76 For this general arrangement of Lev 18 as a concentric structure of successive bound-
aries between family, clan or tribe and nation, see Mohrmann, “Study”, esp. 71–73. Note,
however, that Mohrmann takes v. 18 not with v. 17 but with vv. 19–20, which I regard as
unlikely.
77 Klawans, Impurity, esp. 21–42. His theory has been adopted by some scholars since,
such as Hayes, Gentile Impurities, and Regev, “Non-Priestly Purity”.
78 Klawans, Impurity, 26.
 forms and functions of purity in leviticus 343

a long-lasting effect on the sinner and, eventually, on the land of Israel.

Also, one passage in Lev 20, vv. 2–5, suggests that (at least) some moral
impurities are capable of contaminating the sanctuary, since a man dedi-
cating his child to ‘Molech’ is accused of defiling (ṭmʾ Piel) the sanctuary
of YHWH (see 20:3b).79 Fourth, accordingly, moral impurities cannot be
compensated for by ritual purification; they require individual atonement
and/or the punishment of the culprit. Furthermore, building on Lev 26,
which announces the future deportation of the Israelites for the sake of
the land’s sabbatical rest (26:34–35), Klawans concludes that purification
of the land—as well as the sanctuary—from moral pollution occurs exclu-
sively through the exile (compare, also, Ezek 22). Fifth, and lastly, Klawans
correctly observes that a different language can be used for moral impuri-
ties. For the spectrum of physical impurities, the sole terms used are the
antonyms ṭāmē’ ‘unclean’ and ṭāhôr ‘clean’; the same antonyms can be
used for moral impurities, but other terms may be used as well, such as,
especially, the word tôʿēbâ ‘abomination’.80 For Klawans, all these differ-
ences indicate that ‘moral’ and ‘ritual’ impurities actually constitute two
distinct systems of pollution in Leviticus, whose characteristics may be
summarized in the following chart.81

Table 2.
‘Ritual’ Impurities ‘Moral’ Impurities
Source – natural – non-natural
– unintentional – intentional
Duration – temporary (mostly) – permanent
Spectrum of – contamination of other – pollution of the land and the
contamination persons through contact sanctuary
– no contamination through
contact
Consequences – provisional seclusion – no provisional seclusion
– performance of various – no ritual of purification
rituals of purification – purification of the land
according to the degree of and the sanctuary through
pollution deportation of the Israelites
(Lev 26; Ezek 22)

79 In other words, moral impurities, contrary to physical ones, have a ‘miasmic’ qual-
ity. This point was established, in particular, by Milgrom in a series of studies (see, e.g.,
Milgrom, “Israel’s Sanctuary”). This conception is also implied by one other passage at least
in Leviticus, namely Lev 16:16; see further the discussion below.
80 In Leviticus, see 18:22, 26, 27, 29, 30 and 20:13.
81 A similar assumption was already made by Büchler, Studies, in 1928.
344 christophe nihan

Klawans’ discussion is valuable in that it offers a systematic analysis of the

main differences between ‘moral’ and ‘ritual’, or physical, impurities. Also,
Klawans is certainly correct in arguing that the differences between the
two categories do not only concern the source of impurity but its effects
as well. However, the assumption that moral and physical impurities can
be neatly divided into two separate ‘systems’, without any real overlap
between them, results in some important difficulties and cannot account
for the overall evidence in Leviticus.82 Klawans himself is forced to admit
that in some cases the distinction between ‘moral’ and ‘physical’ impuri-
ties is not so clear-cut. This is so, for instance, in Lev 11, where (as noted
above) a person transgressing the general prohibition against touching
the carcass of a dead quadruped (Lev 11:8) is not said to have polluted
the land or the sanctuary, but only incurs a minor form of impurity (that
person is unclean until the end of the day and must wash his clothes if
he has carried a carcass, vv. 24–28).83 Thus, intentional contact with the
carcass of an unclean quadruped has the same effects, in Lev 11, as one of
the minor forms of physical impurity identified in Lev 12–15. Although this
case is unique in Leviticus, it already suggests that the distinction between
‘moral’ and physical impurities is not so clear-cut and that there may be a
greater overlap between the two forms of impurity than Klawans’ model
would acknowledge.
One major issue for Klawans’ theory has to do with the general notion
that moral pollution, contrary to ‘ritual’ or physical pollution, cannot be
subject to ritual purification. This assumption is explicitly contradicted
by Lev 16, a chapter that prescribes the ritual to be performed by the high
priest once a year, on the day of Kippurîm (the 10th day of the 7th month;
see 16:29; 23:26–32). The first part of the ritual concerns the purification
of the sanctuary; the high priest must enter the inner-sanctum (16:12–13)
and sprinkle the kapporet (‘propitiatory’) seven times with the blood of a
bull and a male goat offered by the community (16:14–15). This part of the
ritual, according to Lev 16:16, serves the following function:

Lev 16:16 Thus, he (i.e., the high priest) shall purge (kipper) the inner-sanctum
from the impurities (ṭumʾôt) of the Israelites, and from their rebellions
(pišēʿhem), that is, all of their sins (lekol-ḥaṭṭoʾtam); and he shall do
likewise for the tent of meeting that dwells among them in the middle
of their impurities.

82 Compare also the criticism of Klawans’ model by Milgrom, “Systemic Differences”.

For a general critique of a rigid division between ‘moral’ and ‘ritual’ impurities (with refer-
ence to Klawans’ work), see also now Kazen, “Dirt”, esp. 44–45.
83 On Lev 11 as a borderline case, see Klawans, Impurity, 31–32.
 forms and functions of purity in leviticus 345

The ‘impurities’ (ṭumʾôt) mentioned here logically refer to the physi-

cal impurities described in Lev 12–15. This is all the more likely because
ṭumʾâ was already used as a comprehensive term for physical impurities
in the concluding exhortation of 15:31, to which Lev 16:16 explicitly alludes
through the reference to “the tent of meeting that dwells among (or, alter-
natively, ‘with’) them in the middle of their impurities” (compare 15:31b:
“my dwelling, which is in their midst”). If so, the term ṭumʾôt in 16:16 must
designate, more specifically, the impurities that have not been taken care
of according to the rules laid out in Lev 12–15. The term pešāʿîm (literally,
‘rebellions’), for its part, refers to intentional transgressions of the divine
laws.84 Thus, as in Lev 20:3, this passage implies that the sanctuary is
defiled not only by physical impurities left unattended but also by moral
sins.85 Together, both categories comprise ‘all the sins’ (lekol-ḥaṭṭāʾôt) of
the Israelites which are capable of polluting the inner-sanctum.86 However,
as the very ceremony prescribed in Lev 16 implies, such defilement of the
sanctuary is purged (Heb. kipper) once a year through performance of the
ritual by the high priest.87
The same conception, connecting moral transgression and ritual purifi-
cation, is manifest in Lev 4. According to this legislation, a person who has
inadvertently (Heb. bišgāgāʿ) transgressed one of the divine prohibitions

84 On the use of this term in Leviticus and in the rest of the Priestly literature, see the
recent discussion by Gane, Cult, 294–98. Gane concludes that it refers to defiant, inexpi-
able transgressions of the divine commands, such as are recounted in Num 15:30–31.
85 For this view, see especially Milgrom, “Israel’s Sanctuary”, and further on this below.
In a recent, comprehensive discussion of Milgrom’s theory that moral pollution, in Leviti-
cus, has a ‘miasmic’ quality, Gane, Cult, 157, rightly observes that a passage such as Lev
16:16 “strongly implies support for the existence of one kind of pollution that affects the
sanctuary from a distance”.
86 With Milgrom, Leviticus 1–16, 1034, I take the last clause of the enumeration in v. 16a
as a summarizing category: ‘that is, all of their sins’. Gane interprets this clause as refer-
ring to a further category of transgressions, namely, non-defiant sins that can be expiated
through sacrificial procedure. This view is based on his general thesis that the ritual of Lev
4 serves to purify individuals from the pollution caused by non-defiant sins by transfering
such sins to the sanctuary. In this interpretation, however, it is difficult to understand
why these less severe transgressions are mentioned last in the enumeration; note, also,
that the fact that the formulation of this last clause deviates from the two previous ones
suggests that it is not on the same level. For a general critique of Gane's ‘transfer’ theory,
see below, note 88.
87 This is the basic meaning of Hebrew kipper; compare with Akkadian kapāru ‘to wipe
out’ (cf. “kapāru”, CAD 8:178–80). On the meaning of kipper in Hebrew, see, e.g., Levine,
Presence, 56–77; Milgrom, Leviticus 1–16, 1079–84; and more recently Gilders, Blood Ritual,
28–29, who convincingly argues that the general meaning of kipper in the ritual texts of
the Pentateuch is “to effect removal”.
346 christophe nihan

(Lev 4:2; literally: “one of the commandments which must not be done”)
must bring a ḥaṭṭāʾt (‘purification’) offering to the sanctuary. The nature
of the offering prescribed in Lev 4 is defined according to the social rank
of the culprit: if the inadvertent transgression was committed by the high
priest or the entire community, a bull must be offered (Lev 4:3–12, 13–21);
if it was committed by a chief of the community or an individual, a less
expensive animal is required (a male goat in the case of a chief, a female
goat or a sheep in the case of an individual; see Lev 4:22–26 and 27–35
respectively). In the first case, the blood of the animal is brought inside
the sanctuary; the high priest sprinkles the veil separating the sanctuary
from the inner-sanctum with it, places some of it upon the horns of the
inner altar, and pours out the rest of the blood at the base of the outer
altar. In the second case, the blood of the sacrifice is merely placed on the
horns of the outer altar (while the rest of the blood is likewise poured out
at the base of this same altar). As Milgrom has convincingly shown, this
ritual legislation forms a system with the legislation of Lev 16: Whereas
intentional transgressions of the divine commands pollute the inner-sanc-
tum, inadvertent transgressions of the same commands pollute either the
sanctuary, if such transgression was committed by the high priest or by
the entire community, or the outer altar, if it was committed by an indi-
vidual other than the high priest. In all these cases, however, the pollution
of the sanctuary caused by the intentional or unintentional (inadvertent)
transgression of divine laws is cleansed by the ritual disposal of the blood
of the ḥaṭṭāʾt offerings prescribed by Lev 4 and 16 respectively.88

88 See Milgrom, “Israel’s Sanctuary”. This understanding of the system of pollution

formed by Lev 4 and 16 together has been adopted by several scholars since. Moreover,
there appears to be general agreement now among commentators that the function of
Lev 16, at least in the final form of the book, is to cover all the transgressions that have
not been dealt with previously in the legislation of Lev 4, thus acknowledging the general
insight that the two chapters constitute a ritual system of sorts. Compare, e.g., the recent
studies by Seidl, “Levitikus 16”, 240–43; Jürgens, Heiligkeit, 339–42; or Janowski and Zenger,
“Jenseits des Alltags”, esp. 78–79.
A different interpretation of the relationship between Lev 4 and 16 has recently been
proposed by Gane, Cult. Gane accepts Milgrom’s view that the ritual of Lev 16 serves for
the cleansing of the sanctuary once a year from the ‘impurities’, ‘rebellions’ and ‘sins’ of
the Israelites, but rejects the idea that this ritual would account for all the forms of pol-
lution, physical and moral, not cared for during the year by the usual purification offer-
ings instructed in cases of inadvertent sin (Lev 4) or of bodily uncleanness (Lev 12–15).
He proposes instead what he designates as a “two-phase” system of cultic purification.
Purification offerings whose blood is brought into contact with either of the two altars
(i.e., all instances except Lev 16) serve to remove physical uncleanness or a moral evil
from the offerer (phase 1). Disposal of blood on the two altars involves, however, transfer
of impurity to the sanctuary, since blood is a carrier of impurity; hence the need for a
further purification, this time of the sanctuary, that occurs once a year in the ritual of
 forms and functions of purity in leviticus 347

Table 3.
Nature of the transgression Area polluted Ritual prescribed
– ‘minor’ inadvertent – outer altar Lev 4:22–26, 27–35
transgressions (chieftain – ḥaṭṭāʾt offering
or other individual) consisting of a male
goat (chieftain) or a
female goat or a sheep
(individual)
– daubing of the blood
on the horns of the outer
altar
– ‘major’ inadvertent – outer-sanctum Lev 4:3–12, 13–21
transgressions (high priest – ḥaṭṭāʾt offering
or the community) consisting of a bull
– sevenfold sprinkling of
the blood in front of the
inner veil
– daubing of the blood on
the horns of the inner altar
– intentional, defiant – inner-sanctum Lev 16:3–10, 11–19
transgressions – ḥaṭṭāʾt offering
Biological impurities consisting of one bull
that have not been and two goats, to be
previously purified performed once a year by
(either intentionally or the high priest
unintentionally) – unique sprinkling of
blood eastward of the
kapporet (propitiatory)
– sevenfold sprinkling
of blood in front of the
kapporet

Lev 16 (phase 2). However, this theory is problematic in several respects. First of all, the
very notion that the impurity of individuals would be removed from them by being trans-
ferred to the sanctuary is hardly likely in the context of Ancient Near Eastern culture. In
addition, Gane’s analysis raises several issues of detail. In particular, the division proposed
is problematic in that it tends to restrict the function of the ritual of ch. 16 to the purifica-
tion of the sanctuary, whereas it is also said to effect atonement (kipper) for the people
and the priests (see v. 24) by means of the transfer of their sins to the goat sent to Azazel
(vv. 20b–22), including in particular a category of evil, ʿāwonot, that has not been previ-
ously cleansed from the sanctuary (v. 21a, compare v. 16a). Another issue has to do with
Gane’s conception of blood as a carrier that becomes loaded with physical impurity or
moral sin before being applied to one of the two altars. Such a conception, which forms
the backbone of his pollution/purification system, is nowhere obvious in P, and Gane’s
argument on this point is unconvincing. For further, more detailed criticism, see my dis-
cussion in Nihan, Priestly Torah, 191–93.
348 christophe nihan

Furthermore, in an appendix to the legislation of Lev 4 (see Lev 5:1–6),

the requirement for a ḥaṭṭāʾt offering is extended to the case in which a
person has become unclean through contact with any sort of impurity,
of animal or human origin, but was unaware of it and therefore failed
to comply with the prescribed rules for purification (Lev 5:2–3).89 This
means that, for the priestly scribes who composed Leviticus, failure to
comply with the rules devised in Lev 11–15 for dealing with physical impu-
rities, be it intentionally or unintentionally, is categorized as a form of
transgression of the divine laws that, like other such transgressions, is also
liable to affect the sanctuary from a distance. In other words, this is a case
of taxonomical transposition within the system of pollution and purifica-
tion that is devised in Leviticus, which shows very clearly how the bound-
aries between ‘physical’ and ‘moral’ impurities are, in fact, fluid, at least
with regard to the rituals for purification. According to Lev 5:2–3, if such
non-observance of the rules defined in Lev 11–15 was unintentional, it may
be repaired through the bringing to the sanctuary of a ḥaṭṭāʾt offering,
as in the case of the ritual prescribed for a chieftain or another member
of the community (Lev 4:22–26, 27–35). If it was intentional, it is then
assimilated to a defiant transgression of the divine commands—namely,
the pešāʿîm mentioned in Lev 16:16. For such transgression, no individual
reparation is permitted, although the pollution caused by it is eliminated
from the inner-sanctum by the high priest when he performs the ritual
prescribed in Lev 16 once every year.
For the purpose of this essay, we need not go further into the analysis
of the sophisticated ritual system elaborated in Lev 4 and 16 for eliminat-
ing the ritual pollution caused by unintentional and intentional transgres-
sions. What the existence of this system implies is that it is mistaken to
separate moral impurities from ritual purification and to interpret physi-
cal and moral impurities as constituting two separate systems of pollu-
tion in Leviticus, as per Klawans’ model. Physical and moral impurities are
clearly distinct forms of pollution in Leviticus: they have a different origin,
as well as, to some extent, different effects. What we see nonetheless in

89 For discussion of this passage, see Milgrom, Leviticus 1–16, 299 and 312–13; Kiuchi,
Purification Offering, 28–29; Nihan, Priestly Torah, 240–41. The syntax of 5:2–3 is complex,
and its exact meaning is disputed. In my opinion, this section refers to the case of a person
who has consciously touched a human or animal impurity, but was not aware that he or
she had contracted impurity thereby and thus did not undertake the required purification
ritual. Milgrom and Kiuchi offer a somewhat different understanding; for them, the person
was aware that he or she had contracted an impurity but later forgot about it, remember-
ing it only after the period of purification had passed. However, this issue is not decisive
for the present discussion.
 forms and functions of purity in leviticus 349

Leviticus is a clear attempt to bring these two types of impurity together

as part of a single, comprehensive system of pollution and purification,
a system that, furthermore, is entirely centered on the sanctuary and its
rituals.90 Physical impurities contaminate the sanctuary only if the per-
son suffering from such uncleanness—either because he or she is directly
affected by one of the impurities described in Lev 12–15 or because he or
she has been contaminated by a person or an object affected by these
impurities—comes into contact with it (Lev 15:31). In this case, such a
person must remain at a distance from the sanctuary and observe the
rules for purification prescribed by Lev 11 and 12–15. In addition, in cases
of severe physical impurities such as childbirth (Lev 12) or morbid dis-
charges (Lev 15:2–15 and 25–30), that person is required to bring a ḥaṭṭāʾt
offering to the central sanctuary once his or her period of uncleanness
has come to an end. Unintentional, inadvertent transgressions contami-
nate either the outer altar or the sanctuary and require the offering of a
ḥaṭṭāʾt sacrifice, according to the rules prescribed in Lev 4. The fact that
the same kind of offering is prescribed in the case of severe physical impu-
rities and inadvertent, unintentional transgressions further highlights the
connection between these two forms of impurity in Leviticus. Thus, as
D. Wright puts it, the two forms of impurity share not only “loci of pol-
lution” (the sanctuary) but also “similar ways of removing that pollution
(mainly ḥaṭṭāʾt sacrifices)”.91 Finally, deliberate transgressions contami-
nate the inner-sanctum and the land. Removal of the pollution affecting
the inner-sanctum is provided by the annual ceremony of purification
prescribed in Lev 16, whereas removal of the pollution affecting the land
is effected by means of the various sanctions defined in Lev 20, such as the
death penalty in the case of the man dedicating his child to Molech (20:2,
4–5; see further the sanctions defined in 20:9–16) or exclusion (kārēt) from
the community (e.g., Lev 20:18).92

90 This view is also held, e.g., by Wright, “Spectrum”, 164–65 and passim, who correctly
identifies two distinct types of impurity but considers them to be part of a single ‘spec-
trum’ of pollution, itself predicated upon the central sanctuary. He aptly concludes, espe-
cially with regard to the rituals for the purification of the two forms of impurity: “Clearly,
all the defilement-creating conditions in the priestly legislation are of the same conceptual
family and system” (Wright, “Spectrum”, 165). Compare also the relevant observations by
Kiuchi, Purification Offering, 64–66; Gane, Cult, 198–213, who regards physical and moral
impurities as ‘distinct’ yet nonetheless ‘related’.
91 Wright, “Spectrum”, 164.
92 Although the meaning of kārēt is disputed, the most likely interpretation is that it
refers to exclusion from the community; see for instance the recent discussion by Grün-
waldt, Heiligkeitsgesetz, 149.
350 christophe nihan

This conclusion implies, in turn, that physical and moral pollution

in Leviticus should be viewed as complementary rather than opposite,
especially with regard to the way in which they affect the central sanctu-
ary. At the end of the previous section (above, § 3), it was observed that
the various rules about physical impurities form a kind of ‘fence’ around
the sanctuary. Their general function is to prevent any Israelite suffer-
ing from such impurities, be it directly or indirectly (i.e., through contact
with a major impurity), from defiling the sanctuary by entering the sacred
precincts while in a state of uncleanness, as is stated in the concluding
exhortation found in Lev 15:31. The concept of ‘moral’ pollution, as it is
elaborated in Leviticus, builds a further ‘fence’ around the sanctuary. The
underlying rationale is that the sanctuary becomes automatically defiled
whenever one of the divine commands is transgressed, be it intentionally
or inadvertently; in addition, deliberate transgressions of the divine laws
(but apparently not inadvertent ones, compare Lev 4) defile the land as
well (Lev 18:24–30). Defilement of the sanctuary through transgressions
of the divine laws can nonetheless be eliminated if the appropriate ritual,
as prescribed in Lev 4 and 16:11–19 respectively, is performed; however, no
ritual is prescribed for the purification of the land, and repeated defile-
ment of the latter through non-observance of the divine laws eventually
leads to the deportation of Israel outside of the land (Lev 26), as in the
case of the nations that preceded Israel (Lev 18:2–5, 24–30; 20:22–26).
With these observations, we have concluded our study of the main
forms of pollution and purification in Leviticus. There remains now to
understand what were the social and ideological functions of such con-
cepts in the historical context of the ancient society that produced this
book. Strikingly enough, this issue has received relatively little scholarly
attention; instead most critics restrict themselves to describing the vari-
ous aspects of these concepts at a literary level.93 Nevertheless, as we will
see, it is possible to advance some general considerations at least.

93 Compare, e.g., the studies by Jenson, Graded Holiness, or Gane, Cult, which are char-
acteristic in this respect. One major exception is the study by Wright, “Spectrum”, espe-
cially in its second part (pp. 170–81). Wright advances several relevant comments on the
relationship between the two forms of impurity using insights from social-cultural anthro-
pology, especially M. Douglas, C. Geertz and R. Wuthnow. In my opinion, his study has
not received the scholarly attention that it deserves; some of his arguments will be briefly
discussed below. One major difference, however, is that Wright, in his analysis of the social
function of concepts of pollution and purification in Leviticus (and, more generally, in
‘P’), focuses on the possible social effects created by the interaction between ‘tolerated’
and ‘non-tolerated’ impurities. While this is a significant point, the key issue, in my view,
concerns the effect achieved by the way in which these two forms of impurity are related
 forms and functions of purity in leviticus 351

5. Pollution, Purification, and the Temple-Society of Leviticus

We may begin this discussion with a preliminary remark, which takes up

some of the observations made at the onset of this essay (above, § 2).
Like the other books of the Torah, Leviticus may be described, in gen-
eral terms, as a scribal exercise in imagination: in the guise of a sophisti-
cated narrative fiction using earlier traditions, it projects a certain ideal
of society onto a distant past. This ideal society, especially in the case of
Leviticus, may be aptly described as a ‘conservative utopia’.94 It is clearly
distinct from the actual society in which the priestly scribes who com-
posed Leviticus lived. At the same time, however, Leviticus also claims to
be authoritative for the various groups that, in the early Second Temple
period, considered themselves to belong to ‘Israel’, especially because the
various rules that the book contains are consistently presented as divine
revelations made to Moses (or Moses and Aaron) at Mount Sinai. Thus, in
order to understand the ideological function of concepts of pollution and
purification in Leviticus for the groups that identified themselves with
‘Israel’ during the Persian period, we need to contrast the model of soci-
ety implied by these concepts with what we can legitimately reconstruct
about the social, economic and political situation at that time.
From a methodological perspective, this general observation calls for
further comment. Since the classical study by M. Douglas, it has been
common to interpret concepts of pollution, in a given society, as operators
for classifying reality and imposing upon it a certain ideal of order.95 As
the previous analysis has shown, this approach is also relevant for under-
standing concepts of pollution and purification in Leviticus. These con-
cepts, as we have seen, can be understood neither as mere practical rules
nor as general symbols of sorts referring to basic anthropological realities
(such as, e.g., death and sexuality). Rather, they exemplify a form of social
classification, or taxonomy: in general terms, the opposition between
‘clean’ and ‘unclean’ corresponds to the opposition between ‘order’ and
‘anti-order’ respectively. The designation of persons, animals or things as
‘unclean’ serves to identify various phenomena that are construed as being

to the sanctuary, an issue that is left virtually unaddressed by Wright. Furthermore, even
Wright does not really attempt to correlate his analysis with a specific historical context.
For these reasons, my own analysis moves in a significantly different direction than his.
Some comments on the social function of the opposition between ‘clean’ and ‘unclean’ can
also be found in the short article by Schaper, “Priestly Purity”.
94 Schaper, “Priestly Purity”, 52.
95 See Douglas, Purity; and further, e.g., Douglas, “Deciphering”.
352 christophe nihan

susceptible to endangering the organization of the community and that

can have their origin either in physical phenomena or in human behav-
ior and action. This social taxonomy goes along with a set of measures,
usually in the form of rituals for purification, the importance of which is
a function of the degree of pollution ascribed to a given form of impu-
rity; overall, the general function of such rituals is to reestablish a previ-
ous state of cleanness. In some extreme cases other rituals of purification
are not sufficient, and additional measures of social control are required.
In the case of physical pollution, such measures can lead to provisional
expulsion from the community, as in the case of a person suffering from
ṣārāʿat (see Lev 13:45–46); in the case of intentional transgressions of
the laws that, in Leviticus, are presented as divinely revealed, the person
responsible for that transgression can be permanently excluded from the
community (kārēt) or even put to death.
However, this kind of general description is only relevant up to a certain
point; in particular, it does not address the fact that the discourse about
pollution and purification in Leviticus is not some general expression of
‘ancient Israelite culture’ (although, as argued above, it certainly draws on
traditional practices and beliefs). Rather, it reflects the distinctive inter-
ests and concerns of the priestly scribes who composed that book during
the Persian period and is closely related to the attempt by that group to
qualify and redefine its authority in that historical context. Here, we may
usefully refer to the theoretical work of the anthropologist C. Bell. In her
analysis of ritual, Bell questions the very assumption underlying the work
of Douglas and many other social anthropologists, according to which the
basic function of rituals would be to resolve fundamental contradictions
within a given society. Instead, Bell regards the very notion that there
would be any such ‘fundamental contradiction’ in all cultures as a schol-
arly ‘myth’ as well as an epistemological fallacy.96 A better description,
according to her, would be to say that it is a constitutive part of the strat-
egy of rituals (or at least, of some rituals) to “generate the sense of a basic
and compelling conflict or opposition in light of which other contrasts
are orchestrated” in a given society or culture.97 Furthermore, as a form
of ‘strategic practice’, rituals are always embedded within a complex net-
work of power relationships among the various participants in the ritual,
relationships that are themselves concretely enacted in the sequence of

96 Bell, Ritual Theory, esp. 35–37.

97 Bell, Ritual Theory, 37.
 forms and functions of purity in leviticus 353

the rituals.98 It is certainly possible to apply this theoretical framework

to the discourse about pollution and purification in Leviticus. Like the
rituals analyzed by Bell, the rituals defined in the text of Leviticus claim
to overcome a basic, or central, opposition (between clean and unclean),
which they contribute to generating. This opposition itself commands a
comprehensive set of further distinctions related to in-group and out-
group boundaries as well as to specific social, political and gender hier-
archies. The main difference, in this case, is that this central opposition
is no longer simply generated by the rituals described in Leviticus, but
more generally by the entire discourse on pollution and purification in
that book, to which ‘textual’ rituals of Leviticus belong and which they
contribute to shaping.99
If we approach the discourse about pollution and purification in
Leviticus from this perspective, and on the basis of the previous descrip-
tion that has been made in this study of ‘physical’ and ‘moral’ impurities,
three aspects, in particular, may be emphasized: first, the scope of pollu-
tion in Leviticus, and the way in which pollution is used to construe in-
group and out-group boundaries; second, the central place that is given, in
this discourse, to the temple; and third, the negotiation of power between
priests and non-priests that is involved in the construction of the oppo-
sition between clean and unclean, pollution and purification. We may
briefly deal with these three aspects, before attempting to relate them to
the historical context of the Persian period.
(1) In Leviticus, the opposition between clean and unclean is construed
as a basic opposition in correlation to another central opposition, this
time between ‘sacred’ and ‘profane’ (Lev 10:10). However, whereas the
opposition between sacred and profane is primarily defined in Leviticus
in relation to a specific place (the sanctuary) and specific times (the festi-
vals described in Lev 23–25),100 the opposition between clean and unclean

98 On this, see Bell, Ritual Theory, 169–223, and further below.

99 In other words, the ‘strategic practice’ that generates the central opposition, in the
case of Leviticus, is the discursive ‘system’ of pollution and purification of which the ‘tex-
tual’ rituals form a part, rather than those rituals only. The codification of rituals in textual
form is, however, yet another, specific manifestation of ‘ritualization’ as a strategic prac-
tice, which is especially (though not exclusively) connected with the transformation and
redefinition of the authority of ritual specialists in a social group; see on this Bell, Ritual
Theory, esp. 136–40.
100 Note, in particular, how sacred place and sacred times are mentioned jointly in the
key exhortations found in Lev 19:30 and 26:2. These two passages have exactly the same
wording, and the parallel frames the section extending from Lev 19 (where the first exhor-
tation to sanctification through observance of the Torah occurs, Lev 19:2) to Lev 25, which
354 christophe nihan

has a much broader scope and applies to virtually every aspect of social
and domestic life. As D. Wright convincingly argues, the experience of
impurity is construed as something that is both ‘ubiquitous’ and ‘perpet-
ual’, because physical (or, in Wright’s terminology, ‘tolerated’) impurities
can occur at any given time.101 Furthermore, the experience of pollution
is not restricted to physical impurities but is extended to the sphere of
actions and moral behavior; as Wright observes, the comprehensiveness
of pollution in Leviticus induces a certain perception of reality, accord-
ing to which everything may, in principle, be divided into ‘clean’ and
‘unclean’.102 The two forms of pollution, as we have seen, are clearly com-
plementary: one is about the threat posed by certain biological phenom-
ena to social organization (in classical terms, ‘nature’ versus ‘culture’), the
other about the threat posed by internal deviations from social norms,
which, in Leviticus, are consistently identified with the divine laws found
in the Torah. Furthermore, the two forms of pollution tend to support
each other, especially insofar as they are part of a comprehensive system
of ritual purification.103 On the one hand, the rituals prescribed for the
purification of moral transgressions, be they inadvertent or deliberate,
branch into the lesser rituals prescribed in the case of physical impuri-
ties, as can be seen from the graded ḥaṭṭāʾt offering in Lev 4 and 16. On
the other hand, non-observance of the rules for purification from physi-
cal impurities is taxonomically transposed into a form of moral impurity
(intentional or unintentional); in this respect, the sub-system of moral

precedes immediately the grand exhortation (26:3–45) concluding the entire book (and,
beyond, the revelation at Mount Sinai). On the editorial function of Lev 19:30 and 26:2, see,
e.g., Nihan, Priestly Torah, 536–37.
101 Wright, “Spectrum”, 176.
102 Wright, “Spectrum”, 176: “Members of society might tend to categorize actions by
one of the two states [i.e., clean and unclean—CN]. Even when the system has not spe-
cifically labeled the nature of an act, the structure of thought could lead to classification”.
Compare also the similar observations by Schaper, “Priestly Purity”, 56–57.
103 See also the detailed comments on this issue by Wright, “Spectrum”, 170–81. Wright
argues, in particular, that the association between ‘tolerated’ and ‘non-tolerated’ impuri-
ties in a comprehensive system of pollution and purification induces a “conception of
cause and effect”. The detestation of minor, tolerated impurities would enforce a sense
of detestation for non-tolerated impurities and thus strengthen the social norms that
these non-tolerated impurities are intended to protect. Likewise, compliance to the lesser
obligations for purification from ‘tolerated’ impurities would induce a sense, in everyday
ritual practice, of the necessity to conform to the higher obligations corresponding to the
purification from ‘non-tolerated’ impurities. Conversely, “non-compliance with the rules
of lesser impurities could suggest to the group that the individual is not willing to support
it and that he might intentionally commit acts that cause prohibited impurity, which are
detrimental to society” (Wright, “Spectrum”, 178).
 forms and functions of purity in leviticus 355

pollution and purification tends to function as a ‘controlling device’ for

the other sub-system.
Moreover, the opposition between clean and unclean is not confined
to internal organization in Leviticus; it is also related to the opposition
between ‘in-group’ and ‘out-group’. Being able to separate clean from
unclean is defined as one of the basic conditions, apart from genealogy, for
acceptance as a member of the ethnic group ‘Israel’; accordingly, inability
to perform such separation is presented in that book as the distinctive
feature of other ethnic groups (Lev 18:24–30; 20:22–26).104 The opposi-
tion clean/unclean thus serves for both internal and external differentia-
tion. The two aspects are artfully intertwined in the narrative fiction of
Leviticus and therefore support each other. This point is made clear, in
particular, in the final exhortation of Lev 20, which was already discussed
above. According to Lev 20:22–26, the reason why ‘Israel’ is different from
the other nations is that YHWH has chosen to reveal to them his laws,
primary among which are the laws related to the division between ‘clean’
and ‘unclean’ such as Lev 11 (see 20:25). Namely, observance of purity laws
is what manifests Israel’s unique, ‘elected’ status as an ethnic group.
(2) This comprehensive system of pollution and purification, together
with the internal and external boundaries that it defines, is itself consis-
tently related to the temple. One could say, in this respect, that one of the
most significant aspects of the opposition between ‘clean’ and ‘unclean’ in
Leviticus, as a ‘strategic’ discourse, is the way in which it concretely defines
the implications of the central location of the temple in the community
by subordinating the entire social organization to the sanctuary. In a
sense, this is the other, complementary aspect of the relationship between
the oppositions sacred/profane and clean/unclean in Leviticus: while the
opposition between clean and unclean reaches beyond the sanctuary, to
the entire community, this opposition is never construed independently
from the opposition between sacred and profane but remains somehow
subservient to it. The reason for the Israelites’ required observance of the
rules of physical and moral impurities is, ultimately, the protection and
preservation of the sanctuary. Correspondingly, as we have seen in the

104 Interestingly enough, this aspect is nuanced in one passage of the book of Ezra, in
6:21, where it is recounted how non-Israelites who had ‘separated’ (bdl) from the ‘impu-
rities’ (ṭumʾôt) of the ‘peoples of the land’ were allowed to join the Israelites in the cel-
ebration of Passover. This passage presupposes the general view laid out in Lev 18 and
20 regarding the inability of other ethnic groups to ‘separate’ ‘unclean’ from ‘clean’ but
introduces a minor qualification with respect to individual members of these same ethnic
groups.
356 christophe nihan

analysis of Lev 20:22–26, observance of the central divisions laid out in

the rules of purity (such as, especially, the distinction between clean and
unclean animals) is the basic condition for the sanctification of Israel, that
is, for the extension of holiness from the sanctuary to the entire commu-
nity. The transmission of physical impurities must be avoided because
there is a risk that, if left uncontrolled, they may desecrate the sanctuary.
As a result, the main implication of physical impurities is that the unclean
person is prohibited access to the sanctuary and its rituals; physical impu-
rity, here, is primarily defined as temporary ritual incapacity. The central-
ity of the temple is even more obvious in the case of moral impurities,
because transgressions of divine commands directly affect the various
areas of the sanctuary (outer altar, outer-sanctum and inner-sanctum)
according to their gravity. Here, we have a unique way of associating the
observance of the divine commands (i.e., Torah) and the temple, which,
to the best of my knowledge, has no equivalent in Antiquity. Temple and
Torah, in this conception, are no longer two distinct institutions but are
organically related: if Israelites must keep the Torah, it is in order to avoid
defilement of the sanctuary. In a sense, one could say that the temple, in
this conception, has become the raison d’être of the Torah itself, as the
main social and legal norm for ‘Israel’.
(3) Third, and lastly, this discourse about pollution and purification in
Leviticus, which places the temple at the center of society and correspond-
ingly aligns social organization with the preservation and protection of
the sanctuary, is inseparable from a negotiation of power and authority
between priests and non-priests. Such negotiation is especially (though
not exclusively) manifest at the level of the various rituals of purification
that are prescribed in that book.105 On the one hand, the capacity to dis-
tinguish ‘clean’ from ‘unclean’, which is presented in many other traditions
of the Hebrew Bible as a distinctively priestly competence (e.g., Deut 24:8;
Ezek 22:26; 44:23; Zeph 3:4; Hag 2:11), is now transferred to the Israelites
as a whole. Moses and Aaron are tasked with teaching the Israelites the
laws about most physical impurities (Lev 11:1–2a; 12:1–2a; 15:1–2a)—with
the noteworthy exception of the instructions about ṣārāʿat in Lev 13–14;

105 One of the major insights of Bell’s studies is that rituals—or, better, strategies of
‘ritualization’—are always about “the construction of certain types of power relationships
effective within particular social organization” and that these power relationships imply
a complex negotiation of power, because all the participants in the ritual are somehow
‘empowered’, even when they do not control the ritual, although to different degrees. See
Bell, Ritual Theory, 197–223.
 forms and functions of purity in leviticus 357

see below—and the superscription to Lev 11 specifies that the purpose

of this teaching is that the Israelites be able to “separate what is unclean
from what is clean, and the animals that may be eaten from those that
may not” (Lev 11:47). Furthermore, the teaching of these rules also implies,
simultaneously, a conferral onto the Israelites (male and female) of the
competence to perform some basic rituals in the domestic sphere, such
as bathing oneself or washing one’s clothes (e.g., Lev 15:16–17 and passim),
which may be legitimately enacted without the assistance of a priest.
On the other hand, however, the control of pollution and purification
in Leviticus remains largely in the hands of the priesthood. Lev 10:10 states
that one of the central tasks of priests, alongside teaching the Torah (10:11),
is to “separate sacred from profane, as well as unclean from clean”, thereby
suggesting that they preserve a specific competence in this regard vis-à-vis
the rest of the community. Within Lev 11–15, this difference is illustrated
by the fact that Aaron is repeatedly mentioned alongside Moses as enjoy-
ing the direct revelation of the rules about impurity, contrary to the rest of
the people (Lev 11:1; 13:1; 14:33; 15:1).106 Furthermore, in the case of ṣārāʿat
pollution in Lev 13–14, this extreme form of impurity cannot be dealt with
by lay people alone but requires the intervention of a priest, who alone is
competent to declare someone ‘clean’ or ‘unclean’; apparently, this is also
the reason that these rules, contrary to the rest of Lev 11–15, are revealed
to Moses and Aaron only and are not said to be taught to the rest of the
community (compare 13:1; 14:1 and 14:33). The same observation applies
in the case of rituals for purification: while minor rituals may legitimately
be performed by the Israelites themselves, all the major rituals may exclu-
sively be performed by the priests and merely involve a subsidiary role for
non-priests, i.e., bringing the required offering.107
One could say, to some extent, that the partial transfer of priestly com-
petencies to non-priests was the price to pay, for the authors of Leviticus,
for construing so broadly the spectrum of pollution. Establishing the oppo-
sition between clean and unclean as the basic opposition around which
the entire social organization of ‘Israel’ is defined requires, accordingly,
a conception of society that involves the entire community in a domain

106 Why Aaron is not mentioned in 12:1 and 14:1 is not clear, and it is difficult to detect
a distinct logic behind this omission. Presumably, Aaron is also implied in these two
passages.
107 The relationship between the control of rituals and social empowerment is a classi-
cal feature of ritual studies; compare, e.g., the discussion by Bell, Ritual Theory, 211–15, with
several references to earlier literature.
358 christophe nihan

of expertise traditionally regarded as a distinctively priestly competency.

However, nothing would be more incorrect than to regard this develop-
ment as entailing a ‘democratization’ of sorts of the priesthood or a radical
rejection of the class division between priests and non-priests, as it has
been recently argued.108 Rather, as it appears, the discourse about pollu-
tion and purification in Leviticus involves an elaborate reordering of the
respective competencies of priests and non-priests with regard to impu-
rity, which, while conferring some ‘priestly’ skills to non-priestly members
of Israel, at the same time establishes the superior authority of priests
in the control of pollution. Altogether, the various rituals for purification
that are prescribed in Leviticus define something like a ‘ritual continuum’
extending from the individual household to the temple and exemplifying,
at the same time, a distinctive social hierarchy. Minor rituals for purifica-
tion may be performed by the Israelites themselves in their households,
but major rituals involve the obligation, for lay Israelites, to bring to the
temple the prescribed offering, so that the corresponding ritual may
be performed by the priests or even, in some of the most severe cases
(Lev 4:13–21; 16:11–19), by the high priest himself. The minor rituals are
irrelevant without the major ones; indeed, all those rituals are part of one
and the same system of pollution and purification, at the top of which
stand the priests as ritual ‘specialists’ and, above them all, the high priest,
who alone is able to take care of the impurities that have not been dis-
posed of during the rest of the year (see Lev 16). Here, we have a fitting
illustration of the general thesis of M. Douglas, according to which the
presence of ritual specialists is a distinctive feature of ‘high-grid’, or strati-
fied, societies (in opposition to ‘low-grid’ societies, with a loose social hier-
archy); such societies, according to Douglas’s analysis, are characterized
by a pronounced social hierarchy as well as a social ethos of piety toward
authority.109
We may now attempt to correlate this analysis of the main functions of
concepts of pollution and purification in Leviticus with the historical con-
text of the province of Yehûd during the Persian period and, especially, the
role of the temple. Although our evidence for this period is very limited
(albeit not nonexistent), it is nevertheless possible to identify a general
trajectory, with regard to the temple and the priestly class in Jerusalem,

108 See especially Bergen, Reading Ritual, 1–12; compare also the remarks by Gersten-
berger, Leviticus, 12–14.
109 Douglas, Natural Symbols, 86–87.
 forms and functions of purity in leviticus 359

between the beginning and the end of the time during which Judah was
under the domination of the Achaemenid empire (classically dated 538
to 332 bce). In the limits of this essay, it is not possible to address the
various issues that this reconstruction raises, and the discussion will be
restricted to those aspects that are significant for the present study.
One of the most important developments in regard to the temple
of Jerusalem during the Persian period was the loosening of the tradi-
tional connection between temple and kingship.110 At the beginning of
the Persian period, the temple was rebuilt (presumably in connection
with the return from exile of a small group of Judeans under the lead of
Sheshbazzar and Zerubbabel),111 but Judah no longer had a local king, and
the Jerusalem temple was not sponsored any longer by the Judean monar-
chy, as it had been before the exile. As the successor to the sanctuary of the
royal period, the Second Temple probably enjoyed a significant amount of
prestige, but it is unlikely to have played a major economic role from the
onset in the administration of Yehûd, because the administrative center
of the province was not in Jerusalem but in Mizpah (a town located some
20 kilometers from Jerusalem).112 Furthermore, the absence of royal
sponsorship meant that the maintenance of the sanctuary and its per-
sonnel was left to the local populace; since the province of Yehûd was

110 As noted, e.g., by Albertz, Exile, 133–34.

111 This is the classical view, based on a combination of evidence found in Haggai,
Zech 1–8 and Ezra 1–6. A minority view holds, however, that the temple was only rebuilt at
some point during the fifth century, possibly in connection with Nehemiah’s governorship
(or even later); see, in particular, the detailed argument put forward by Edelman, Origins.
Although this discussion is too complex to be addressed here in detail, and even granting
that the evidence offered by Haggai, Zech 1–8 and Ezra 1–6 is complex, I remain uncon-
vinced by this alternative reconstruction. Suffice it, here, to note that several texts that
are usually dated to the fifth century, such as Isa 60–62 (the earliest portion of so-called
‘Third Isaiah’), do seem to presuppose that the temple has already been rebuilt; compare
Isa 60:7, 13. Furthermore, it is striking to observe that no biblical or extra-biblical literature
associates Nehemiah with the rebuilding of the temple in Jerusalem.
112 After the capture of Jerusalem, the center for the administrative unit formed by
Judah and Benjamin was moved to Mizpah; see 2 Kgs 25:22–23 and Jer 40:7–10. Mizpah
probably kept that function until Jerusalem was reestablished as administrative center for
the province of Yehûd; see, e.g., Lemaire, “Nabonidus”, 201–4, as well as Lipschits, “Achae-
menid Imperial Policy”. Note, furthermore, that this conclusion seems to be corroborated
by one passage in Nehemiah, Neh 3:7; cf. Blenkinsopp, “Judean Priesthood”, 29. There is
general agreement, today, that Jerusalem was very sparsely populated during most of the
Persian period. Two recent estimations, by Carter, Emergence, 201–2, and Lipschits, Fall
and Rise, 261–274, calculate that Jerusalem was never inhabited by more than 1,500 persons
during the fifth century. It is only towards the late fifth and fourth centuries bce that the
town seems to have enjoyed a slightly more significant economic and political role. See
further below.
360 christophe nihan

very poor and sparsely populated during the Persian period, the mainte-
nance of the temple was apparently a constant problem, as the account in
Neh 13:10–14 appears to indicate (see further Mal 3:6–12).113 The chief
priest (or high priest) was acknowledged as a respected and authoritative
figure in the community, as some passages, especially in Zech 1–8, suggest
(see especially the visions reported in Zech 3 and 6:9–15). In the absence
of a king, his office was, at times, the only office of importance held by
a native Judean, since the governors nominated by the Persian authority
were not necessarily Judeans themselves; in this context, it is only logical
that we find a distinctive trend, in some Persian period texts, to trans-
fer onto him attributes that previously belonged to the king.114 At the
same time, however, there is no real evidence suggesting that the Persian
administration recognized any sort of official authority of the high priest
in civil matters; thus, earlier theories about a ‘dual’ authority or a ‘diarchy’
in Yehûd consisting of the governor and the high priest are unwarranted
and probably mistaken. More likely, the authority of the high priest was
confined to the sanctuary on Mount Zion and its precincts, as has been
convincingly argued by some scholars.115 Concretely, this means that the
high priest (and, more generally, the leading priestly families in Jerusalem
that backed his authority) was considered to be competent for all the mat-
ters pertaining to access to, and management of, the sanctuary but that
his authority did not necessarily extend further.116

113 This passage recounts that during Nehemiah’s second sojourn to Jerusalem (dated
432 bce), the tithe was not paid to the temple, so that the sanctuary was abandoned by
its cultic servants (Neh 13:10–14). Even though this account is probably exaggerated, it
coheres with the little we may reconstruct about the economic situation in Jerusalem at
that time.
114 Compare especially the description of the high priest’s vestments in Exod 28–29,
which takes up several motifs that, in other biblical traditions, are presented as dis-
tinctive of the Judean monarch, such as diadem (e.g., 2 Sam 1:10; Ps 89:40, etc.), tiara
(Ezek 21:31) and anointing with oil (1 Kgs 1:39; 2 Kgs 9:1, 3, 12; 11:12; 23:30). Further on this,
see my discussion in Nihan, Priestly Torah, 393–94, with n. 513. Note, however, that the
traditional view according to which in Zech 6:9–15 an ancient oracle addressed to the
Davidide Zerubbabel would have been later revised in favor of Joshua, the high priest, is
quite problematic and must be abandoned.
115 See especially the detailed discussion by Rooke, Zadok’s Heirs, 135–50; as well as
Rose, Zemah, esp. 44–83.
116 Compare, e.g., the concluding comments by Rose, Zemah, 83: “In Zech. 3.7, Joshua,
the high priest, is given certain prerogatives which formerly belonged to the king, but
these are limited to the temple and its cult. No reasons are given for this transfer, and
details are unclear. Evidence for increased civil power of the priest is absent, and so is
evidence for a form of government called ‘diarchy’ ”.
 forms and functions of purity in leviticus 361

Gradually, however, the situation seems to have evolved, in connection

with the establishment of Jerusalem as the administrative center (birâ, or
birtāʾ) for the province of Yehûd in the second half of the fifth century,
presumably in connection with Nehemiah’s governorship.117 This develop-
ment implied that the temple of Jerusalem enjoyed a more significant eco-
nomic and political role, especially once it served as the place where taxes
were collected.118 In that context, the leading priestly families logically
enjoyed more power and authority; the high priest, in particular, seems
to have come to play a growing role in the administration of the province
in the late fifth and fourth centuries. This assumption is corroborated, in
particular, by the mention of “Yôhanan the (high) priest” ( yhwḥnn hkwhn)
as a Paleo-Hebrew legend on a fractional Judean coin.119 Although the coin
is variously dated from 378–368 to 335–333, this mention suggests that
towards the end of the Persian period, the high priest of the Jerusalem
temple was influential enough to mint coins under his own authority.120
The various stories in the book of Numbers (such as, e.g., Num 16–18
and 25) that emphasize the religious and political authority of the high
priest over the rest of the community may likewise be placed in the same
context.121 Interestingly enough, this ‘theocratic’ ideal of Numbers is also
reflected, towards the end of the 4th century, in the work of Hecataeus
of Abdera (apud Diodorus Siculus XL, 3, 5), who states that the Jews have
‘never had a king’ but are ruled by priests, the first of whom they designate
as the ‘high priest’ and whom they regard as the ‘messenger of God’. In

117 On birâ/birtāʾ as a technical term of the imperial administration for a provincial

capital, see Lemaire and Lozachmeur, “birta”, as well as the comments by Edelman, Ori-
gins, 333.
118 See Schaper, “Jerusalem Temple;” and more recently on this issue, compare for
instance Lemaire, “Administration”, esp. 60–62.
119 For presentation of this fractional coin, see Meshorer, Treasury, 14 n. 20; cf. also the
discussion by Fried, “Silver Coin”.
120 Lemaire, “Administration”, esp. 62. A ‘Yehohanan the high priest’ is already men-
tioned in the Aramaic petition sent to Bagavahya in 407 by the Judean community in
Elephantine (see Cowley, Aramaic Papyri, 30:18 and 31:17), although it is quite doubtful
that this is the same person.
121 On this, see especially Achenbach, Vollendung, 443–628. In Num 25, for instance,
Phinehas, Aaron’s grandson, is reported to have received a specific covenant (berît) with
YHWH, which is described both as a ‘covenant of peace’ and an ‘everlasting covenant’,
two terms that were previously associated, in the biblical tradition, with the covenant
concluded with the Davidic dynasty; see, especially, Ezek 34:23–24 and 37:26. Compare
also the narrative in Num 17:16–26, which establishes the superiority of Aaron’s tribe over
all other Israelite tribes by recounting how Aaron’s staff, when placed inside the sanctuary
with the staffs of the chiefs of the other tribes, blossomed as the sign of the election of
Aaron’s tribe by YHWH.
362 christophe nihan

reality, the high priest was always forced to reckon with the authority of
the governor designated by the Persian administration; this potentially
conflicting situation is already reflected, for instance, in the account of
Neh 13:4–9, which recounts the conflict between Nehemiah and the high
priest Eliashib regarding the admission of Tobiah, an Ammonite official,
into the rooms of the sanctuary. However, after the Achaemenid empire
definitively lost control over Egypt, after 400 bce, its authority in the
Levant seems to have gradually weakened, as can be seen, in particular,
from the various revolts of Phoenician coastal cities during the fourth cen-
tury. In this context, it was likely possible for the high priest—who, as was
noted above, was the main native official in Yehûd—to gradually assert
his economic and political authority over civil, non-sacral matters.122
Against this historical background, it is possible to understand the con-
cepts of purity and pollution in Leviticus as an attempt to enlarge and
consolidate the authority of the priesthood and the temple over the rest
of society in Yehûd. Through reading, hearing, copying or commenting
upon Leviticus, the ancient audience was gradually educated in a distinc-
tive model of society that, by construing the related oppositions between
sacred and profane and between clean and unclean as central oppositions,
subordinates social organization to the temple and, while conferring on
the members of ‘Israel’ a degree of priestly competency in the domestic
sphere, simultaneously establishes the authority of the priesthood over
civil matters.123 Later in the Second Temple period, some Jewish groups,

122 For this idea, see Achenbach, Vollendung, 130–40.

123 As was pointed out earlier in this study (above, § 2), reading and commenting on
a scroll such as Leviticus was probably intended first and foremost (though not exclu-
sively) for the training of a small elite in Yehûd during the Persian period. Otherwise, we
know little about the diffusion of Leviticus, and other Torah scrolls, during the Persian
period. One passage in Neh 8 recounts the public reading of the Torah by Ezra in the
context of a grand ceremony extending over eight days, but this account is replete with
difficulties and is likely to be fictional. Compare, e.g., the recent and moderate statement
of this disputed issue by Grabbe, History, 334–37. We can presumably deduce from this
that public recitation of the Torah was known in Jerusalem in the fourth century bce, but
little more can be said with certainty. The authenticity of the imperial decree reported in
Ezra 7:12–26, which grants to Ezra the authority to promulgate the ‘law (dātāʾ) of your God
and the law (dātāʾ) of the king’ (Ezra 7:26) has likewise been questioned, in my view with
good grounds. See, in particular, the detailed discussion by Grätz, Edikt; Grätz, “Ezra 7”.
Grätz convincingly shows, in particular, how the so-called edict of Artaxerxes is best
understood against the Hellenistic practice of forging such documents in order to gain
the support of Hellenistic rulers in the enforcement of local laws by referring to an earlier
imperial authorization granted by the Persian king. Besides, it is unclear what is referred
to in the expressions ‘law of your God’ and ‘law of the king’ and how the Aramaic term
dātāʾ, in these two phrases, relates to the Torah; it is also largely unclear how the account
 forms and functions of purity in leviticus 363

such as the Pharisees, will seek to partly free themselves from that priestly
influence by developing priestly, or quasi-priestly, standards of purity in
their everyday lives.124 Even so, however, such groups will not question
the authority of Leviticus in matters of purity. Instead, through a grad-
ual process of reception that starts in the Persian period and develops in
Hellenistic and Roman times, Leviticus will slowly emerge as the norma-
tive discourse on such matters in Second Temple Judaism, laying the basis
for the development of concepts of pollution and purification among vir-
tually all Jewish groups of that period.125

Bibliography

Achenbach, Reinhard. Die Vollendung der Tora: Studien zur Redaktionsgeschichte des
Numeribuches im Kontext von Hexateuch und Pentateuch. Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für
Altorientalische und Biblische Rechtsgeschichte 3. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitzverlag,
2003.
Albertz, Rainer. Israel in Exile: The History and Literature of the Sixth Century B.C.E. Society
of Biblical Literature: Studies in Biblical Literature 3. Atlanta, Ga: Society of Biblical
Literature, 2003.
——. A History of Israelite Religion in the Old Testament Period. 2 vols. London: SCM Press,
1994.
Bell, Catherine. Ritual Theory, Ritual Practice. New York: Oxford University Press, 1992.
Bergen, Wesley J. Reading Ritual: Leviticus in Postmodern Culture. Journal for the Study of
the Old Testament Supplement 417. London: T & T Clark International, 2005.
Bibb, Bryan D. Ritual Words and Narrative Worlds in the Book of Leviticus. Library of Hebrew
Bible: Old Testament Studies 480. London: T & T Clark International, 2009.
Blenkinsopp, Joseph. “The Judaean Priesthood during the Neo-Babylonian and Achaemenid
Period”. Catholic Biblical Quarterly 60 (1998): 25–43.
Blum, Erhard. Studien zur Komposition des Pentateuch. Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die alt-
testamentliche Wissenschaft 189. Berlin: de Gruyter, 1990.
Büchler, Adolf. Studies in Sin and Atonement in the Rabbinic Literature of the First Century.
The Library of Biblical Studies. New York: KTAV Publishing House, 1967.
Carr, David. “The Rise of Torah”. Pages 39–56 in The Pentateuch as Torah: New Models
for Understanding Its Promulgation and Acceptance. Edited by G. N. Knoppers and
B. M. Levinson. Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2007.
——. Writing on the Tablet of the Heart: Origins of Scripture and Literature. Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2005.

of Ezra 7 relates to that in Neh 8. It seems probable that the picture presented by these two
texts (although from a distinct perspective) of a sudden enforcement of the Torah in the
entire province of Yehûd simultaneously is a later fiction; more likely, we should imagine
a gradual process that started in the late Persian period and extended through the time of
Hellenistic rule in Judea.
124 See on this Regev, “Non-Priestly Purity”.
125 See, e.g., Harrington, Impurity Systems, as well as the essays by I. Werrett and
G. Holtz in this volume.
364 christophe nihan

Carroll, Michael P. “One More Time: Leviticus Revisited”. Archives européennes de sociolo-
gie 19 (1978): 339–46. Reproduced in: Anthropological Approaches to the Old Testament.
Edited by B. Lang. Philadelphia: Fortress Press; London: SPCK, 1985.
Carter, Charles Edward. The Emergence of Yehud in the Persian Period: A Social and
Demographic Study. Journal for the Study of the Old Testament: Supplement Series 294.
Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1999.
Cowley, Arthur E. Aramaic Papyri of the Fifth Century B.C. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1923.
Davies, Philip. “Ethnicity in the Torah”. In Opening the Books of Moses. Edited by
D. Edelman, P. Davies, C. Nihan and T. Römer. London: T & T Clark, forthcoming.
Dillmann, August. Die Bücher Exodus und Leviticus. Kurzgefasstes exegetisches Handbuch
zum Alten Testament 12. 2d ed. Leipzig: S. Hirzel, 1880.
Douglas, Mary. Leviticus as Literature. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999.
——. Natural Symbols: Explorations in Cosmology. London: Routledge, 1996.
——. “Deciphering a Meal”. Pages 249–75 in Implicit Meanings: Essays in Anthropology.
Edited by M. Douglas. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1975.
——. “Pollution”. Pages 47–59 in Implicit Meanings: Essays in Anthropology. Edited by
M. Douglas. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1975.
——. Purity and Danger: An Analysis of Concepts of Pollution and Taboo. London: Routledge
& Kegan Paul, 1966.
Dumont, Louis. Homo hierarchicus: Essai sur le système des castes. Bibliothèque des sci-
ences humaines. Paris: Armand Colin, 1967.
Edelman, Diana. The Origins of the ‘Second Temple’: Persian Imperial Policy and the
Rebuilding of Jerusalem. Bible Word. London: Equinox, 2005.
Ego, Beate. “Reinheit und Schöpfung: Zur Begründung der Speisegebote im Buch Leviticus”.
Zeitschrift für altorientalische und biblische Rechtsgeschichte 3 (1997): 131–44.
Eilberg-Schwartz, Howard. The Savage in Judaism: An Anthropology of Israelite Religion and
Ancient Judaism. Bloomington, Ind.: Indiana University Press, 1990.
Fried, Lisbeth S. “A Silver Coin of Yohanan Hakkôhen”. Transeuphratène 26 (2003): 65–85,
Pls. II–IV.
Frymer-Kensky, Tikva. “Pollution, Purification and Purgation in Ancient Israel”. Pages 399–
415 in The Word of the Lord Shall Go Forth: Essays in Honor of David Noel Freedman in
celebration of His Sixtieth Birthday. Special Volume Series American Schools of Oriental
Research 1. Edited by C. L. Meyers and M. O’Connor. Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns,
1983.
Gane, Roy E. Cult and Character: Purification Offerings, Day of Atonement, and Theodicy.
Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2005.
Gerstenberger, Erhard S. Leviticus: A Commentary. The Old Testament Library. Louisville,
Ky: Westminster John Knox Press, 1996.
Gilders, William K. Blood Ritual in the Hebrew Bible: Meaning and Power. Baltimore, Md.:
The John Hopkins University Press, 2004.
Gorman, Frank H. The Ideology of Ritual: Space, Time and Status in the Priestly Theology.
Journal for the Study of the Old Testament Supplement 91. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic
Press, 1990.
Grabbe, Lester L. A History of the Jews and Judaism in the Second Temple Period: Volume 1:
Yehud: A History of the Persian Province of Judah. Library of the Second Temple Studies
47. London: T & T Clark, 2004.
Grätz, Sebastian. Das Edikt des Artaxerxes: Eine Untersuchung zum religionspolitischen und
historischen Umfeld von Esra 7,12–26. Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche
Wissenschaft 337. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2004.
——. “Esra 7 im Kontext hellenistischer Politik: Der königliche Euergetismus in helle-
nistischer Zeit als ideeller Hintergrund von Esr 7,12–26”. Pages 131–54 in Die Griechen
und das antike Israel: Interdisziplinäre Studien zur Religions- und Kulturgeschichte des
Heiligen Landes. Orbis Biblicus et Orientalis 201. Edited by S. Alkier and M. Witte.
Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2004.
 forms and functions of purity in leviticus 365

Grünwaldt, Klaus. Das Heiligkeitsgesetz Leviticus 17–26: Ursprüngliche Gestalt, Tradition

und Theologie. Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 271. Berlin:
de Gruyter, 1999.
Hagedorn, Anselm C. “Local Law in an Imperial Context: The Role of Torah in the
(Imagined) Persian Period”. Pages 57–76 in The Pentateuch as Torah: New Models for
Understanding Its Promulgation and Acceptance. Edited by G. N. Knoppers and B. M.
Levinson. Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2007.
Haran, Menahem. Temples and Temple Service in Ancient Israel: An Inquiry into the
Character of Cult Phenomena and the Historical Setting of the Priestly School. Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1978.
Harrington, Hannah K. The Impurity Systems of Qumran and the Rabbis: Biblical Foundations.
Society of Biblical Literature: Dissertation Series 143. Atlanta, Ga: Scholars Press, 1993.
Hartley, John E. Leviticus. Word Biblical Commentary 4. Dallas, Tx: Word Books, 1992.
Hayes, Christine E. Gentile Impurities and Jewish Identities. Intermarriage and Conversion
from the Bible to the Talmud. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002.
Hoffmann, David. Das Buch Leviticus: Übersetzt und erklärt. 2 vols. Berlin: Poppelauer,
1905–6.
Houston, Walter. Purity and Monotheism: Clean and Unclean Animals in Biblical Law. Journal
for the Study of the Old Testament Supplement 140. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press,
1993.
Hundley, Michael. Keeping Heaven on Earth: Safeguarding the Divine Presence in the Priestly
Tabernacle. Forschungen zum Alten Testament 2,50. Tubingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2011.
Janowski, Bernd, and Erich Zenger. “Jenseits des Alltags: Fest und Opfer als religiöse
Kontrapunkte zur Alltagswelt im alten Israel”. Jahrbuch für Biblische Theologie 18 (2003):
63–102.
Jenson, Philip P. Graded Holiness: A Key to the Priestly Conception of the World. Journal for
the Study of the Old Testament Supplement 106. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press,
1992.
Jürgens, Benedikt. Heiligkeit und Versöhnung: Leviticus 16 in seinem literarischen Kontext.
Herders Biblische Studien 28. Freiburg: Herder, 2001.
Kazen, Thomas. “Dirt and Disgust: Body and Morality in Biblical Purity Laws”. Pages 43–64
in Perspectives on Purity and Purification in the Bible. Library of the Hebrew Bible: Old
Testament Studies 474. Edited by B. J. Schwartz, D. P. Wright, J. Stackert and N. S. Meshel.
London: T & T Clark International, 2008.
Kiuchi, Nobuyoshi. The Purification Offering in the Priestly Literature: Its Meaning and
Function. Journal for the Study of the Old Testament Supplement 56. Sheffield: Sheffield
Academic Press, 1987.
Klawans, Jonathan. Purity, Sacrifice and the Temple: Symbolism and Supersessionism in the
Study of Ancient Judaism. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009.
——. “Pure Violence: Sacrifice and Defilement in Ancient Israel”. Harvard Theological
Review 94 (2001): 133–55.
——. Impurity and Sin in Ancient Judaism. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000.
Lemaire, André. “Nabonidus in Arabia and Judah in the Neo-Babylonian Period”. Pages
285–98 in Judah and the Judeans in the Neo-Babylonian Period. Edited by O. Lipschits
and J. Blenkinsopp. Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2003.
——. “Administration in the Fourth-Century B.C.E. Judah in Light of Epigraphy and
Numismatics”. Pages 53–74 in Judah and the Judeans in the Fourth Century B.C.E. Edited
by O. Lipschits, G. N. Knoppers and R. Albertz. Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2007.
——, and Hélène Lozachmeur. “La Birta en Méditerranée orientale”. Semetica 43 (1995):
75–78.
Levine, Baruch A. In the Presence of the Lord: A Study of Cult and Some Cultic Terms in
Ancient Israel. Studies in Judaism in Late Antiquity 5. Leiden: Brill, 1974.
——. Leviticus: The Traditional Hebrew Text with the New JPS Translation. JPS Torah
Commentary. Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1989.
366 christophe nihan

L’Hour, Jean. “L’Impur et le Saint dans le Premier Testament à partir du Lévitique: Partie I:
L’Impur et le Pur”. Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 115 (2003): 524–37.
——. “L’Impur et le Saint dans le Premier Testament à partir du Lévitique. Partie II: Le Saint
et sa rencontre avec l’Impur et le Pur”. Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft
116 (2004): 33–54.
Lipschits, Oded. “Achaemenid Imperial Policy, Settlement Processes in Palestine, and the
Status of Jerusalem in the Middle of the Fifth Century B.C.E”. Pages 19–52 in Judah and
the Judeans in the Persian Period. Edited by O. Lipschits and M. Oeming. Winona Lake,
Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2006.
——. The Fall and Rise of Jerusalem: Judah under Babylonian Rule. Winona Lake, Ind.:
Eisenbrauns, 2005.
Malul, Meir. Knowledge, Control and Sex: Studies in Biblical Thought, Culture and Worldview.
Tel Aviv-Jaffa: Archeological Center Publication, 2002.
Marx, Alfred. “L’impureté selon P: Une lecture théologique”. Biblica 82 (2001): 363–84.
Meier, Sam. “House Fungus: Mesopotamia and Israel (Lev 14: 33–53)”. Revue Biblique 96
(1989): 184–92.
Meshorer, Ya’akov. A Treasury of Jewish Coins from the Persian Period to Bar-Kochba.
Jerusalem: Yad Ben-Zvi Press, 2001.
Milgrom, Jacob. “Systemic Differences in the Priestly Corpus: A Response to Jonathan
Klawans”. Revue Biblique 112,3 (2005): 321–29.
——. Leviticus 17–22: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary. Anchor Bible
3A. New York, NY, et al.: Doubleday, 2000.
——. “The Changing Concept of Holiness in the Pentateuchal Codes with Emphasis on
Leviticus 19”. Pages 65–78 in Reading Leviticus: A Conversation with Mary Douglas.
Journal for the Study of the Old Testament Supplement 227. Edited by J. F. A. Sawyer.
Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1996.
——. “Two Biblical Hebrew Terms: Seqes and Tame”. Maarav 8 (1992): 7–16.
——. Leviticus 1–16: A Translation with Introduction and Commentary. Anchor Bible 3. New
York, NY: Doubleday, 1991.
——. “Rationale for Cultic Law: The Case of Impurity”. Semeia 45 (1989): 103–9.
——. “Israel’s Sanctuary: The Priestly ‘Picture of Dorian Gray’ ”. Pages 75–84 in Studies
in Cultic Theology and Terminology. Studies in Judaism in Late Antiquity 36. Edited by
J. Milgrom. Leiden: Brill, 1983.
Mohrmann, Douglas C. “Making Sense of Sex: A Study of Leviticus 18”. Journal for the Study
of the Old Testament 29 (2004): 57–79.
Mullen, Theodore E. Ethnic Myths and Pentateuchal Foundations. A New Approach to the
Formation of the Pentateuch. Society of Biblical Literature: Semeia Studies. Atlanta, Ga:
Scholars Press, 1997.
Nihan, Christophe. “The Laws about Clean and Unclean Animals in Leviticus and
Deuteronomy and Their Place in the Formation of the Pentateuch”. Forthcoming in
The Pentateuch: International Perspectives on Current Research. Edited by T. Dozeman,
K. Schmid and B. Schwartz. Zurich: Theologischer Verlag.
——. From Priestly Torah to Pentateuch: A Study in the Composition of Leviticus. Forschungen
zum Alten Testament 2,25. Tubingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2007.
Olyan, Saul M. Rites and Rank: Hierarchy in Biblical Representations of Cult. Princeton, N.J.:
Princeton University Press, 2000.
Oppenheim, A. L., ed. The Assyrian Dictionary of the Oriental Institute of the University of
Chicago. 21 vols. Glücksstadt: J. J. Augustin, 1971.
Parker, Robert. Miasma: Purification and Pollution in Early Greek Religion. Oxford: Clarendon
Press, 1983.
Paschen, Wilfried. Rein und unrein: Untersuchung zur biblischen Wortgeschichte. Studien
zum Alten und Neuen Testament 24. Munich: Kösel Verlag, 1970.
Rattray, Susan. “Marriage Rules, Kinship Terms and Family Structure in the Bible”. Society
of Biblical Literature 123 (1987): 537–44.
 forms and functions of purity in leviticus 367

Regev, Eyal. “Priestly Dynamic Holiness and Deuteronomic Static Holiness”. Vetus
Testamentum 51,2 (2001): 243–61.
——. “Pure Individualism: The Idea of Non-Priestly Purity in Ancient Judaism”. Journal for
the Study of Judaism 31,2 (2000): 176–202.
Rooke, Deborah W. Zadok’s Heirs: The Role and Development of the High Priesthood in
Ancient Israel. Oxford Theological Monographs. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000.
Rose, Wolter H. Zemah and Zerubbabel: Messianic Expectations in the Early Postexilic
Period. Journal for the Study of the Old Testament Supplement 304. Sheffield: Sheffield
Academic Press, 2000.
Ruwe, Andreas. “The Structure of the Book of Leviticus in the Narrative Outline of the
Priestly Sinai Story (Exod 19:1–Num 10:10*)”. Pages 55–78 in The Book of Leviticus:
Composition and Reception. Vetus Testamentum Supplement 93. Edited by R. Rendtorff
and R. A. Kugler. Leiden: Brill, 2003.
Schaper, Joachim. “Priestly Purity and Social Organisation in Persian Period Judah”.
Biblische Notizen 118 (2003): 51–57.
——. “The Jerusalem Temple as an Instrument of the Achaemenid Fiscal Administration”.
Vetus Testamentum 45,4 (1995): 528–39.
Seidl, Theodor. “Levitikus 16—‘Schlussstein’ des priesterlichen Systems der Sünden-
vergebung”. Pages 219–48 in Levitikus als Buch. Bonner Biblische Beiträge 119. Edited by
H. J. Fabry and H. W. Jüngling. Berlin: Philo, 1999.
Toorn, Karel van der. Sin and Sanction in Israel and Mesopotamia: A Comparative Study.
Studia Semitica Neerlandica 22. Assen: Van Gorcum, 1985.
Watts, James W. Ritual and Rhetoric in Leviticus: From Sacrifice to Scripture. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2007.
——. Persia and Torah. The Theory of the Imperial Authorization of the Pentateuch. Society
of Biblical Literature. Symposium Series 17. Atlanta, Ga: SBL, 2001.
——. Reading Law: The Rhetorical Shaping of the Pentateuch. Biblical Seminar 59. Sheffield:
Sheffield Academic Press, 1999.
Wenham, Gordon J. The Book of Leviticus. New International Commentary of the Old
Testament. Grand Rapids, Mi: Eerdmans, 1981.
Whitekettle, Richard. “Levitical Thought and the Female Reproductive Cycle: Wombs,
Wellsprings, and the Primeval World”. Vetus Testamentum 46 (1996): 376–91.
——. “Leviticus 12 and the Israelite Woman: Ritual Process, Liminality and the Womb”.
Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 107 (1995): 393–408.
——. “Leviticus 15.18 Reconsidered: Chiasm, Spatial Structure and the Body”. Journal for
the Study of the Old Testament 49 (1991): 31–45.
Wright, David P. “Holiness, Sex and Death in the Garden of Eden”. Biblica 77 (1996): 305–29.
——. “Unclean and Clean (OT)”. Pages 729–41 in vol. 6 of Anchor Bible Dictionary. Edited
by D. N. Freedman. 6 vols. New York, NY: Doubleday, 1992.
——. “The Spectrum of Priestly Impurity”. Pages 150–81 in Priesthood and Cult in
Ancient Israel. Journal for the Study of the Old Testament Supplement 125. Edited by
G. A. Anderson and S. M. Olyan. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1991.
——. “Observations on the Ethical Foundations of Biblical Dietary Laws: A Response
to Jacob Milgrom”. Pages 193–98 in Religion and Law: Biblical-Judaic and Islamic
Perspectives. Edited by E. Firmage, B. G. Weiss and J. W. Welch. Winona Lake, Ind.:
Eisenbrauns, 1990.
——. The Disposal of Impurity: Elimination Rites in the Bible and in Hittite and Mesopotamian
Literature. Society of Biblical Literature: Dissertation Series 101. Atlanta, Ga: Scholars
Press, 1987.
 PURITY CONCEPTIONS IN THE BOOK OF NUMBERS IN CONTEXT

Christian Frevel

Everyone will agree that purity is an important issue in the book of

Leviticus and that these texts have had the strongest impact on purity
discussions through the ages.1 Because of the predominance of Leviticus
in the reception process, the importance of the book of Numbers regard-
ing purity issues is often neglected. But is the idea of purity in Numbers
the same as it is in Leviticus, or are there differences in conceptualizations
of purity within the book of Numbers? If the latter, are they conflicting
concepts or do they complement each other? The following chapter aims
to address these questions and to compare purity conceptions in Leviticus
and Numbers by giving an overview of the purity texts and their vocabu-
lary, focusing on the book of Numbers. In a second part, the chapter will
focus on the example of Num 5:1–4 as one of the most compositionally
important purity texts in Numbers. Within this line of argumentation, the
chapter aims at determining the specific outline of purity conceptions in
the book of Numbers.

1. General Observations and the Semantic Field

‘Purity/Impurity’ in the Book of Numbers

If you ask which book contains the main purity texts in the Torah, the
most common initial answer is Leviticus. But a closer look reveals that
the semantic field of ‘purity’ is present as well in the book of Numbers,
and it is almost as frequent and dense there as it is in Leviticus. Although
they do not always constitute the central focus, purification, pollution or
defilement are addressed in the arrangement of the camp (Num 5:1–3); in
the ordeal of jealousy (Num 5:11–31); in the instruction of the vows of the
Nazirite (Num 6:1–21); in the passage on the initiation of the Levites into
their service (Num 8); in the commandments regarding the postponement
of the Passover ritual (Num 9:1–14); in the explanation of the donations to
the priests (Num 18:9–14) and at the end of the general regulation of their
behavior in the service in the tent of meeting (Num 18:32); in the chapter

1 See for example the book edited by Marcel J. H. M. Poorthuis and Baruch J. Schwartz,
Purity and Holiness.
370 christian frevel

on vows, once the profanation of a vow is brought up (Num 30:3); in the

chapter on the Midianite war, when the warriors return with their captives
(Num 31:12–24); and at the end of chapter 35, within the regulations of the
cities of refuge (Num 35:33–34). In addition to these instances where the
theme is at least touched upon, the whole chapter on the red heifer in
Num 19 concerns impurity caused by corpses. One may add the narrative
chapters 12, 17 and 25, where purity issues are treated more or less explic-
itly: Miriam’s leprosy (Num 12:12–15), Aaron’s ‫כפר‬-rite on the occasion of
the plague Num (17:6–15), and Phinehas’ act of expiation by killing Cozbi
and Zimri (Num 25:5–15). The semantic field covers the entire spectrum,
which is shown in the chart below:

Table 1.
Lexeme Word Class Translation Frequency Evidence

‫טהר‬ Verb to clean, 10 G-stem Num 19:12[bis],

to purify 19; 31:23, 24;
D-stem Num 8:6, 7, 15, 21;
tH-stem Num 8:7

‫טהור‬ Adjective pure, 11 Num 5:28; 9:13; 18:11, 13;

clean 19:9, 18, 19
‫טהרה‬ Noun purification, 1 Num 6:9
cleanness
‫טמא‬ Verb to pollute, 24 G-stem Num 6:12; 19:7, 8,
to defile, 10, 11, 14, 16, 20, 21, 22;
to become D-stem Num 5:3; 6:9;
unclean 19:13, 20[bis]; 35:34;
Num 5:13, 14[bis], 20, 27,
28, 29;
tH-stem Num 6:7
‫טמאה‬ Noun pollution, 2 Num 5:19; 19:13
defilement,
uncleanness
‫טמא‬ Adjective unclean, 11 Num 5:2; 9:6, 7, 10; 18:15;
defiled, 19:13, 15, 17, 19, 20, 22
polluted
‫נדה‬ Noun set apart, 6 Num 19:9, 13, 20, 21; 31:23
menstruation (attested only as ‫)מי־נדה‬
‫חלל‬ Verb to profane 2 D-stem Num 18:32;
H-stem Num 30:3
‫חנף‬ Verb to pollute 2 H-stem Num 35:33
 purity conceptions in the book of numbers in context 371

Table 1. (cont.)

Lexeme Word Class Translation Frequency Evidence

‫חטא‬ Verb to sin, 10 D-stem Num 19:19;

to purify tH-stem Num 8:21; 19:12,
13, 20; 31:19, 20, 23
‫חטאת‬ Noun purification 43 see below
offering
‫כפר‬ Verb expiate, 16 Num 5:8; 6:11; 8:12, 19, 21;
purify 15:25, 28; 17:11, 12

Besides the undisputed lexical clues to the semantic field of purity, puri-
fication, impurity, pollution and defilement in general, one has to con-
sider particularly the terms ‫חטא‬/‫ חטאת‬on the one hand and ‫ כפר‬on the
other hand. We cannot respond to the scholarly discussion on the ‫חטאת‬-
offering here at length, but some introductory considerations may be in
order for understanding the particularities of the book of Numbers.
There is a growing consensus, following Jacob Milgrom’s assumption
that “ ‘Purification offering’ is certainly the more accurate translation”2 of
‫חטאת‬, rather than ‘sin-offering’: “The function of the ḥaṭṭa⁠ʾt sacrifice . . . is
to remove contamination (ḥiṭṭē means ‘decontaminate’). Hence, it should
be rendered ‘purification offering’ ”.3 In his study on the ‫חטאת‬, Nobuyoshi
Kiuchi has underlined the connection of this offering with impurity and
purification. Accordingly, he admits: “It is, however, incontrovertible that
the ḥaṭṭa⁠ʾt offering and possibly also the term ḥiṭṭē deal with uncleanness”.4
However, the interpretation of the ‫חטאת‬-offering is still debated: Instead
of the traditional meaning, Kiuchi sees the primary notion of ‫ חטא‬as ‘hid-
ing oneself ’,5 and he acknowledges the “rationale for uncleanness . . . in
the fall (Gen 3)”.6 Regarding the connection to an actual sin, in the end
he sticks to a psychological transformation of the ‘traditional’ understand-
ing of the ‫ חטאת‬by addressing the level of unconsciousness. Thus, “the
ḥaṭṭa⁠ʾt offering deals with uncovering the offerer before the Lord in form
of a sacrificial animal being killed . . .”.7 In this interpretation the unclean-
ness is not physical or acquired by contamination, but mainly by moral

2 Milgrom, “Sin-Offering or Purification-Offering?”, 237.

3 Milgrom, Numbers, 439.
4 Kiuchi, Study, 101.
5 Kiuchi, Study, 41.
6 Kiuchi, Study, 102.
7 Kiuchi, Study, 102.
372 christian frevel

means. In contrast to this interpretation, Jacob Milgrom has convincingly

argued for an understanding of pollution of the sanctuary by the sinful,
that is, polluting, deeds of men. The blood, which is applied to the altar,
cleanses the sanctuary by acting as a ritual detergent.8 With this argu-
mentation, Milgrom further substantiated the above-mentioned trans-
lation ‘purification offering’ for ‫חטאת‬. He assumed two kinds of ‫חטאת‬,
which differ as to the place of the application rite, namely, either inside or
outside the sanctuary. In his study on Leviticus, Christophe Nihan has also
pointed to two types of ‫חטאת‬, but he goes in a different direction:
The first type was typically a rite for cleansing of sancta and eliminating
impurities, in which the animal’s blood served as a ritual detergent and the
carcass, after having absorbed impurity, was disposed of by being burnt
outside the sanctuary. . . . This ritual was further developed by the school of
P . . . into a proper offering and extended from the purification of sancta to
that of persons by being combined with a burnt offering. The second type
was an offering made for the atonement of (moral) offenses, possibly mostly
collective rather than individual.9
Both types of ‫ חטאת‬coexist in the books of Leviticus and Numbers
alike. Looking at the evidence in Numbers, we find 43 instances of ‫חטאת‬.
Four of them clearly use the noun in the sense of ‘misconduct, sin’
(Num 5:6, 7; 12:11; 16:26; 32:23) and can be left aside here because they
are not connected to a sacrifice. Num 18:9, where the provisioning of the
priests is outlined, is not relevant with respect to the purpose of the offer-
ing. While the ‫ חטאת‬is mentioned together with ‫ מנחה‬and ‫אשם‬, it is not
explicitly connected either to a purifying aspect or to moral offenses. The
same is true for the thirteen instances in the consecration ceremony in
Num 7, although the ceremony may be seen against the backdrop of the
purgation of the newly installed altar. But the combination of offerings
hints at an integration of the ‫ חטאת‬into the regular sacrificial system.10
The same holds true for most parts of the thirteen instances of the festival
calendar in Num 28–29, where the ‫ חטאת‬is often combined with the ‫עלה‬-
offering. A ‫ חטאת‬as a public rite is mentioned in the cultic calendar of the
New Moon festival, in Num 28:15, where it may be interpreted rather as a

8 Milgrom, “Two Kinds”, 73. For discussion, see Gilders, “Blood”, 77–83.
9 Nihan, Torah, 183–84.
10 For the discrepancies and contradictions of Num 7 vis-à-vis the sacrificial system
and the assumption that the initial sacrifices were not individual sacrifices, see Milgrom,
Numbers, 362–64.
 purity conceptions in the book of numbers in context 373

purification offering for the sancta, as J. Milgrom suggests, following rab-

binic interpretation (m. Shevuʾot 1:4–5).11 The ‘regular’ cases of Num 6:14,
16; 15:27 are included in the following observations.
Of particular interest are the instances in which the ‫חטאת‬-offering is
combined with a ‫כפר‬-formula, as in Num 6:11; 8:12; 15:24–25, 27–28; 28:22;
29:5, and the ‫חטאת הכפרים‬, as in Num 29:11. The ‫כפר‬-rite is clearly an
expiation rite with purifying aspects. As Roy Gane argues, following Jay
Sklar,
‫ כפר‬for sin may also include an aspect of purification because sins can
pollute, and ‫ כפר‬for impurity may also include an element of ransoming
because impurity causes danger.12
The intentional object of the ‫כפר‬-rite is usually marked by the preposi-
tion ‫‘ על‬on behalf of ’. However, the central reference and target of the
‫כפר‬-rite is the sanctum and especially the altar, not the offerer.13 In the
following I will comment briefly on the relevant passages for the ‫כפר‬-rite
in Numbers. All passages are related to purity:
a) In Num 6:11 it is the Nazirite who has defiled himself by touching
a corpse unwittingly or, more accurately, who has had indirect contact
within the room where a deceased human lies.14 In so doing, he or she
has annulled his or her vow by profanation (literally: he has made his
vow unclean ‫כי טמא נדרו‬, v. 12). Although unintended, the encounter of
the Nazirite with the dead afflicts the sanctuary and thus he/she has to
offer two turtledoves or two young pigeons on the eighth day. Though
it is not explicated, the temporal setting of Num 6 hints at a correspon-
dence with Num 19:17–19, where the defiled person is purified after seven

11 Cf. Milgrom, Numbers, 242.

12 Gane, review of J. Sklar, Impurity; cf. Sklar, Impurity, 186–87.
13 Nihan, Torah, 178.
14 This interpretation can be substantiated by a couple of arguments: The unwitting
pollution follows the general law in Num 6:7. The Nazirite shall not bury his relatives
because of his vow. He may not touch any corpse. Num 6:9 starts anew with a specific case:
The presence of a Nazirite in a room contaminated by death. As the death is sudden and
unforeseen (see the double accent on this aspect through the phrase ‫)בפתע פתאם‬, the
Nazirite cannot avoid pollution. According to Num 19:14, everyone who is in an enclosed
space in the event of a death becomes unclean. Thus, even if the Nazirite does not touch
the corpse directly, he has polluted himself through the corpse. Thus he has to follow the
ritual described in Num 19:17–19. Even if he realizes the coincidence of his attendance and
the time of death only later, he has sinned and thus has to offer a guilt offering (Lev 5). For
the interpretation of the ‫אשם‬-offering in Num 6:12, see Levine, Numbers 1–20, 223: “The
Nazirite was regarded as a form of sacred property, for he was, after all, sacred to God”.
For the interpretation of vv. 13–18, see also Gane, “Function”, 13–16.
374 christian frevel

days, following the performance of the purification rite on the third and
seventh days. Thus in Num 6:11, the priest effects purification because the
Nazirite has incurred guilt by reason of the corpse (literally “from that he/
she has sinned because of the vitality”15 ‫ ;)מאשר חטא על־נפש‬the offering
of two birds ensures that the defilement will not affect the sanctuary.
b) Num 8:12 is part of the induction of the Levites, which is displayed
ritually as a solemn inauguration with several different aspects: initiation,
purification, compensation for Israelite firstborn, and determination of
the relation between Aaronides and Levites.16 Following the plot of Num
8, the selection and purification of the Levites is described in Num 8:5–7.
Because they operate in proximity to God, special purity requirements
are emphasized. Moses shall purify the Levites by sprinkling the water of
‫ חטאת‬on them (‫)חטאת הזה עליהם מי‬. Whether this is identical with the ‫מי‬
‫ )ה(נדה‬of Num 19 (cf. v. 9: ‫ )חטאת הוא‬or is a separate water of lustration is
disputed.17 Both are similar in function insofar as they are used as agents
of purification. In Num 8:7 there is not the merest hint of sin;18 rather,
‫ חטאת‬here, as in Num 19:12, means purification.19 The symbolic sprin-
kling by the priest shall remove all possible impurities from the Levites
that may hamper or separate them from contact with the holy. Verse 12
describes the ritual inauguration by offering two bulls, one as a ‫חטאת‬
and the other as an ‫עלה‬, as expiation/purification on behalf of the Levites
(‫)על־הלוים לכפר‬. No certain misconduct, sin or pollution of the Levites is
presumed, and following the rite in vv. 5–7 they are already pure. Thus,
the ‫כפר‬-rite is related to the altar of the sanctuary rather than to the
Levites personally (cf. esp. Lev 8:15, 34; 16:30). The cleansing aims at the
inner relationship between YHWH and the Levites, who are singled out as
his particular property. With the purgation of the sanctum from all impu-

15 For ‫ נפש‬as vitality of the deceased rather than corpse, see below.
16 See Frevel, “dann gehören die Leviten mir”.
17 Milgrom, Numbers, 61; Wright, “Purification”, 215; Scharbert, Numeri, 38; Staubli, Levi-
tikus, Numeri, 233 and others opt for equalization. Levine, Numbers 1–20, 284, has argued
against it, but he acknowledges the functional analogy. Cf. the Septuagint, which translates
‫ מי חטאת‬in Num 8:7 as ὕδωρ ἁγνισµοῦ and ‫ מי נדה‬in Num 31:23 as τῷ ὕδατι τοῦ ἁγνισµοῦ
(because of the following ‫ )?יתחטא‬but in Num 19:9, 13, 20, 21[bis] as ὕδωρ ῥαντισµοῦ.
18 For a contrary appraisal, see Levine, Numbers 1–20, 283.
19 A further argument can be seen in the use of the tH-stem of ‫ חטא‬in the sense of ‘to
purify’, which is attested in Num 8:21; 19:12, 13, 20; 31:19, 20, 23 merely in connection with
the ‫ מי חטאת‬and the ‫מי נדה‬. The verb in Num 8:21 is usually translated as ‘purifying
from sin’, as in RSV, NRSV, etc. But see Milgrom, Numbers, 64; Levine, Numbers 1–20, 270:
“they purified themselves”.
 purity conceptions in the book of numbers in context 375

rities connected to the Levites, this relationship is established as pure.

This line of interpretation is substantiated by the execution in Num 8:21,
where the phrase ‫ ויכפר עליהם אהרן‬is followed by ‫לטהרם‬, “on behalf of
their purification” or “to purify them”.20
c) In the chapter of additional commandments on sacrifices and atone-
ment, the passage Num 15:22–31 treats inadvertent trespasses. While vv.
24–26 cover unintentional sins by the community, vv. 27–29 cover the
individual case of ‫שגגה‬-wrongdoing. The structure of the passages is
similar, but the number of sacrifices differs. Both cases require a goat as
purification offering, and in both cases the order is followed by a ‫כפר‬-
formula: ‫“ וכפר הכהן על‬and the priest shall make atonement on behalf
of . . .”. Although not explicitly stated, the inadvertent sins have defiled the
sanctuary. Because of their defiling impact on the sanctum, the blood rit-
ual for purification is required for the altar. In both cases, forgiveness fol-
lows the sacrificial rite, denoted by a weqaṭal of ‫ סלח‬in the N-stem: ‫ונסלח‬
‫“ ל‬and they/he shall be forgiven”. As Jacob Milgrom has emphasized, the
forgiveness is not part of the purification ritual; rather, the ‫כפר‬-ritual is
the formal pre-condition for the mercy of God and the forgiveness of the
inadvertent trespasses.21
d) The purification rite as part of a purification offering (‫חטאת‬-offering)
followed by a ‫כפר‬-formula is attested explicitly twice in the late festival
calendar in Num 28–29 (Num 28:22; 29:5), which cannot be discussed here
at length. Of special significance is the phrase ‫ חטאת הכפרים‬in Num 29:11,
which may be translated as “the purification offering of purgation”. This is
related to the Day of Atonement, as can be seen from the date and from
the parallel in Exod 30:10.22
After taking a closer look at the passages on the ‫כפר‬-rite in Numbers,
we can conclude that the ‫חטאת‬-offering in these cases can be termed a
‘purification offering’ and that the ‫כפר‬-rite clearly shows aspects of purga-
tion. Notwithstanding differences in detail, the book of Numbers is part
of the Priestly purity system. This is based on the physical, contagious
dimension of impurities, on the one hand, and the importance of pur-
gation for the sanctum, on the other hand. Because the impure and the

20 Cf. Nihan, Torah, 179.

21 See Milgrom, Numbers, 123–24.
22 Cf. Levine, Numbers 21–36, 388–89 and for further considerations, Nihan, “Israel’s Fes-
tival Calendars”, esp. 182; 207–10, rejecting the assumption that ‫ חטאת הכפרים‬in Num
29:11 has to be regarded as an addition.
376 christian frevel

holy are antagonistic and mutually exclusive of one another, the sanctu-
ary has to be kept free from all impurities. The most striking characteristic
of this system is the violability of the sanctuary by pollutions from afar,
via unatoned trespasses. Thus the ‫חטאת‬-offerings mentioned above are
required for expiation and purgation of the sanctum. It is most obvious
that a strict separation between moral and physical impurity falls short
of this cultic system. There is neither a ‘pure’ moral purity nor a physical
impurity without any link to the ethos of a specific society and thus to a
certain ethic. The levels are closely related to each other and are often
intertwined. In the book of Numbers there is neither a spiritualization of
purity nor an independent metaphorical use of purity outside of the cultic
realm.23 In sum: The evidence of the book of Numbers seems to corrobo-
rate the development and integration of the ‫ חטאת‬in the Priestly offering
system but does not provide clear evidence for two separate and distinct
types of ‫ חטאת‬or an inner diachrony. In most instances, the purifying
aspect and the relatedness to the sanctum stand in the background.24 The
‘two types’ are not clearly differentiated, and although they are related to
sin in some instances, they are largely free of moral aspects.
Before progressing from the semantic aspects of purity to Num 5:1–4
as an example, I want once more to emphasize one peculiarity of the
semantic system of Numbers: The verb ‫ חטא‬is used rarely in Exod–Num
in the D-stem in the sense of ‘to purify’ or ‘to purge’, especially for the altar
(Exod 29:36; Lev 8:15) but also for the purification of the contaminated
house (Lev 14:49, 52) or of one who has been defiled by the realm of death
(once; Num 19:19).25 In contrast, the tH-stem of ‫ חטא‬is used only in the
book of Numbers (Num 8:21; 19:12, 13, 20; 31:19, 20, 23). As we have seen,
the verb ‫ חטא‬in the tH-stem in Num 8:21 has the meaning ‘to purify from
uncleanness’ and may not have the connotation of ‘sin’. The same holds
true for Num 19:12–13, 20. Finally, in Num 31:19–20 ‫ חטא‬in the tH-stem
clearly means ‘to purify’. Apart from Num 8:21, all instances are related
to the defilement by death that is the most important ‘purity’ issue in the
book of Numbers (see below).

23 This holds true for the impurity of the land in Num 35:33, although the concept of the
defiling blood-guilt is a bit too complicated to deal with here at length. For some further
considerations on Num 35:33–34, see below.
24 See Janowski, Sühne, 101–2.
25 Additionally, in Lev 6:19 and 9:45 the D-stem denotes the performance of a ‫חטאת‬-
offering.
 purity conceptions in the book of numbers in context 377

We can summarize the considerations on the semantics of purity in the

book of Numbers as follows: A wide range of purity and impurity terms is
attested in the book of Numbers. There are references to physical, ritual
and moral aspects but neither to a genealogical nor an ‘ethnic’ dimen-
sion (e.g. the ‘holy seed’ in Ezra 9:2) nor to a metaphorical use of purity.
Only once (Num 35:33–34) is the land explicitly the object of defilement
by bloodshed. This has clear moral and metaphorical aspects, but again
the physical dimension stands in the foreground (see below). There is no
indication of a separate and distinct moral dimension of purity. All attes-
tations related to persons deal with the ability or inability to attend the
cult or to be part of the congregation that is constituted by the presence
of God in its midst. Any impurity will hinder encounters with the holy
and may pollute the sanctuary. This is particularly explicit in the inaugu-
ration of the Levites in Num 8. The Levites require extensive purification
before their service around and for the tabernacle (Num 1–4, cf. 9:3b).
Very important is the relation between holiness and purity, pollution and
the integrity of the sanctum. The aspect of purgation can be observed in
the use of ‫ חטא‬and ‫חטאת‬, especially in the use of the tH-stem of ‫ חטא‬that
is found only in the book of Numbers. The book of Numbers confirms the
hypothesis that ‫ כפר‬is not primarily restricted to ‘atonement’ as reconcili-
ation of the sinner with God but rather constitutes the purgation of the
sanctum, which would otherwise be affected permanently by the commit-
ted sins. If impurities are not purified or treated properly, their ‘negative’
power accumulates and defiles the sanctum from afar. If the defilement
is not eliminated or absorbed ritually, the logic of the cult—that is, the
presence of the life-giving God in its midst—is endangered. It must be
emphasized that this conception reveals the impossibility of separating
the intertwined physical and moral aspects of purity. The most relevant
issue in the book of Numbers is coping with death. The realm of death is
seen to contrast with the life-giving power and thus defiles the holiness of
the sanctum (see on this further below).
Overall, purity is an important issue in the book of Numbers. The fre-
quency of the total attestations, especially in Num 5, 8 and 19, reveals a
density of purity vocabulary similar to that found in Lev 11–15.26 Hence,

26 Taking as a reference point, for example, the relation to the total number of words
in each chapter, Num 19 is third in the quantitative ranking of purity-related vocabulary,
directly after Lev 15 and Lev 12.
378 christian frevel

the opinion that purity issues are treated primarily in Leviticus is

misleading.
Striking, however, is the restriction of purity issues to a few chapters:
Although we would expect purity to be an important theme, it is absent
from the organization of the camp and the order of service in Num 1–4. Yet
after this section, almost every chapter up to the departure of Israel in Num
10 focuses on several purity aspects. It is remarkable that in the narrative
chapters (Num 11–14; 16–17; 20–25), which are usually considered at least
in part to be older than the Priestly stratum, purity is by no means absent,
although it plays only a minor role. Apart from the central chapter of Num
19 (and some minor issues in Num 31:12–24 and Num 35:33–34), purity is
generally less present in the second half of the book of Numbers. In sum,
even though purity is an important issue throughout the whole book of
Numbers, the book’s structure and plot are not dominated by this theme.
The second part of this paper will focus on Num 5:1–4, its contextual
integration within the book of Numbers and its relations to Leviticus.
Thereby it will be possible to expand our considerations on the function
of purity in Numbers and our comparison of it to the book of Leviticus.
The impurity caused by corpses will receive detailed attention because it
constitutes one of the most striking particularities regarding purity in the
book of Numbers.

2. The Purity of the Camp: A General Order in Numbers 5:1–4

The book of Numbers begins with the preparation for the wilderness
sojourn with the census of the people and the organization of the camp
in Num 1–4. It is quite significant that purity regulations appear after
the general organization of the camp. The congregation is structured as
follows: the sanctuary in the very center of the camp is framed by the
Aaronide priests in front of the eastern entrance and the Levites at the
sides and back (South: Kehatites; North: Merarites; West: Gershonites).
Around the transportable sanctuary, the campgrounds of the twelve
tribes are arranged. Thus the congregation of the people of Israel is con-
stituted as a unity in preparation for setting out (Num 10:11–28). On the
one hand, we must consider the composition of Numbers as a situational
adaptation of the desert migration. On the other hand, it is also the con-
stitution of the congregation in a space with clear borders defining ‘in’
and ‘out’. The camp may be compared to an idealized walled city with a
sanctuary in its center. On a third level, the camp also signifies the land
 purity conceptions in the book of numbers in context 379

in which the Israelites will settle (see Num 21 and 32 for Transjordan
and Num 34 for Cisjordan).27 On a literal level, the text addresses the
specific situation in the desert, but likewise on a conceptual or meta-
phorical level it presents the ideal city (i.e. Jerusalem)28 and the ideal
land (Israel, the Promised Land). The intertwined conceptual levels rep-
resent a specific worldview that is structured on a horizontal axis by
dichotomies: presence/absence, holy/profane, pure/impure, etc. (see the
figure below).

Fig. 1. Concentric Purity.

27 The situation is still more complicated because the borders of the Holy Land pos-
sessed by the Israelites are an ideal rather than real. The historical background is much
more likely the province of Yehûd in the late Persian period, which is presented as sepa-
rate from all neighboring provinces. But the matter of this perspective is too complicated
to be dealt with in this paper.
28 See Achenbach, Vollendung, 500: “Der Text der Kapitel 5–6 wie auch die folgenden
Texte sind zu lesen als Vorbilder, nach denen in Jerusalem die Grundregeln der Reinheit
und der Heiligung zu beachten sein sollten”.
380 christian frevel

The concentric conception of the camp, or the city or land, is highly ideal-
ized along a horizontal axis. The sanctuary lies at the center and the outer
edge is the periphery. All outside borders have the same distance to the
center of holiness. The sacred precinct is the most holy and pure, and
the uncleanness of the periphery may endanger the purity of the center.
Thus purity has a liminal function, emphasizing the borders in relation
to the center. Although the whole concept is geared to the center, where
the divine presence lies, the fringe and the outskirts are not inherently
impure.29 While the sanctuary is constitutively pure, the camp is not
pure in principle or per se, because of the unavoidable uncleanness of
the Israelites; therefore, the issue of purity has to be addressed after nar-
ratively constituting the basic arrangement of the camp.30 This crucial
function is assumed by Num 5:1–4, which at first glance may appear rather
marginal:
The Lord spoke to Moses, saying: ‫וידבר יהוה אל־משה לאמר׃‬
Command the Israelites to put out of the ‫צו את־בני ישראל וישלחו מן־המחנה‬
camp
everyone with skin disease, and everyone ‫כל־צרוע וכל־זב וכל טמא לנפש׃‬
who has discharge, and everyone who is
unclean regarding a corpse.
You shall put out male and female alike, ‫מזכר עד־נקבה תשלחו‬
putting them outside the camp; ‫אל־מחוץ למחנה תשלחום‬
they must not defile their camp, ‫ולא יטמאו את־מחניהם‬
where I dwell among them. ‫אשר אני שכן בתוכם׃‬
The Israelites did so, ‫ויעשו־כן בני ישראל‬
putting them outside the camp; ‫וישלחו אותם אל־מחוץ למחנה‬
as the Lord had spoken to Moses, ‫כאשר דבר יהוה אל־משה‬
so the Israelites did.31 ‫כן עשו בני ישראל׃‬

29 See for example Num 19:9 where a pure place (‫ )מקום טהור‬exists outside the
camp.
30 Cf. Lee, “Conceptual Coherence”, 474–76; 482–84, who strengthens the composi-
tional link between Num 1–4 and 5:1–4 on the one hand, and on the other hand quite
correctly emphasizes that purity is conceptually relevant in Num 5:1–10:10: “The concepts
of divine holiness, purity or uncleanness are at best indirect unifiers of the twelve units
of Num 5,1–10,10” (483).
31 The translations given in this text are mostly borrowed from the RSV, sometimes
with slight variations.
 purity conceptions in the book of numbers in context 381

The three cases of impurity are defined linguistically in the shortest man-
ner possible: A general quantifier (‫ )כל‬is followed by a participle or a short
nominal clause. The narrative sequence in v. 4 reports the execution in
a formulaic style.32 But the simple, straightforward phraseology should
not obscure the fact that Num 5:1–4 is very important in a compositional
respect. The newly established camp is configured as a pure enclosure
that has to be kept clean for God, who is considered to be dwelling in the
midst of the people (see above). Addressing purity after establishing the
camp is all the more necessary because the encampment of the Israelites
is likewise to be understood as a military camp,33 which has clear inside-
outside borders marked by the purity of the camp.

2.1. The Linguistic Structure and Conception of Numbers 5:1–4

Thus, after the arrangement of the camp and the regulations for the
ministry of the Levites in Num 1–4, Num 5 starts (or, to make it clear
on the conceptual level: has to start) with general remarks on the
purity of the newly arranged camp, conveyed in a direct instruction
to Moses. Moses is assigned by the Lord to command the people to
keep the camp clean from (a) every leper,34 (b) everyone having a dis-
charge, and (c) everyone who is unclean through contact with the dead
(‫ כל־צרוע וכל־זב וכל טמא לנפש‬v. 2). The threefold case is followed by
the same directive, namely to put the unclean person out of the camp
(‫ מזכר עד־נקבה תשלחו אל־מחוץ למחנה תשלחום‬v. 3a), that they may
not defile their camp (‫ ולא יטמאו את־מחניהם‬v.3). This is substantiated
by the dwelling of the Lord in the midst of the camp (‫אשר אני שכן‬
‫ בתוכם‬v. 3). The short unit is closed by a slightly expanded formulaic
execution report that the people of Israel did as the Lord said to Moses
(‫ כאשר דבר יהוה אל־משה כן עשו בני ישראל‬. . . ‫ ויעשו־כן בני ישראל‬v. 4).

32 See Pola, Die ursprüngliche Priesterschrift, 124–27; 144, esp. 127.

33 Cf. Hieke, Unreinheit, 50: “Das ‘Lager’ von Numeri 5 ist—kurz vor dem Aufbruch
zur Wüstenwanderung—konzipiert als eine Mischung aus regulärer Wohngemeinschaft
und Kriegslager. . . . Es ist kein Kriegslager im strengen Sinn, da auch Frauen und Kinder
eingeschlossen sind und die dadurch auftretenden Unreinheiten wie Menstruation und
Samenerguss beim Geschlechtsverkehr nicht zum Lagerausschluss führen”.
34 There is a consensus that ‘leper’, which is traditionally used to translate ‫צרוע‬, denotes
a person with a skin disease rather than leprosy (so-called Hansen’s disease, caused by the
Mycobacterium leprae).
382 christian frevel

The focus of the paragraph is underlined by semantic repetitions.

The term ‫ מחנה‬and the verbal phrase ‫( שלח‬D-stem) are used four times
each. The passage begins with the third person plural (they shall put out
of the camp . . . ; ‫מן המחנה‬: ‘where from’) and shifts to the second per-
son plural (you shall put out both male and female . . . ; ‫מזכר עד־נקבה‬:
‘whom’, and finally you shall put them outside the camp; ‫אל־מחוץ למחנה‬:
‘whereto’). This is for rhetorical reasons and need not indicate diachronic
development.35 The unit is highly structured, as can be seen in the fol-
lowing figure:

Fig. 2. Structure of Numbers 5:1–4.

The core and focus is expressed at the end of the instruction, namely,
the general need for the congregation to avoid any pollution because
of the presence of the Lord in the midst of the congregation.36 The ratio-

35 But see Baentsch, Numeri, 469; Davies, Numbers, 44–45; Noth, Numbers, 46: “The
double phrase in v. 3a disrupts the context by its use of the second person and is there-
fore shown to be an addition”. In the same way, Kellermann, Priesterschrift, 163–65, who
considers v. 3a an addition that seeks to provide the dismissed people with protection and
support: “Der Zusatz will also in zweifacher Hinsicht präzisieren. Auch für die Frau hat die
Vorschrift ihre Gültigkeit; und die Reinerhaltung des Lagers ist nicht gleichbedeutend mit
der brutalen Ausstoßung der Unreinen, sondern deren Platz ist in der Nähe des Lagers,
vermutlich weil die Ausstoßung in den meisten Fällen befristet war”. This interpretation
is by no means given in the difference between ‫ מן־המחנה‬and ‫אל־מחוץ למחנה‬, which
corresponds to the difference between ‘from where’ and ‘whereto’. Thus, there are no sub-
stantial reasons to cut off v. 3a and v. 4aßγ. The ‘Literarkritik’ of the latter, in particular,
is a petitio principii.
36 Cf. Lee, Conceptual Coherence, 484.
 purity conceptions in the book of numbers in context 383

nale follows the concentric concept of graded holiness (see above). While
the center is defined by the sanctuary, the outer, liminal border is the
transition area from ‘inside’ to ‘outside’ the camp. The camp is depicted as
having clear spatial borders that separate the center and its surroundings
from the periphery. Therefore the polluted person has to be put out; oth-
erwise the center would be defiled by the uncleanness. Significantly, the
‫ מחנה‬in the rationale in v. 3 has an enclitic personal pronoun, ‘their camp’.
There is no need for text-critical arguments37 since the Septuagint attests
the plural as well: τὰς παρεµβολὰς αὐτῶν. Rather, it seems to be a textual
play on the single camp and the living places of the people (oscillating
between bed and encampment). These encampments (‫ )מחניהם‬together
with the sanctuary constitute the camp (‫( )מחנה אשר אני שכן בתוכם‬Num
1–4) and are thus related to the holiness and purity of the center. The
plural illustrates the spatial concept of the whole passage: By identifying
the individual living places with the zone that is determined by the pres-
ence of the divine, the whole camp becomes affected by the holiness of
the center. There is no real periphery inside the camp; the center pervades
the surroundings all the way to the outer fringe. The camp is defined by
the sanctuary and the holiness of the divine. The phrase ‫ שכן בתוך‬takes up
Exod 25:8 (‫ )ועשו לי מקדש ושכנתי בתוכם‬and Exod 29:45 (‫ושכנתי בתוך בני‬
‫)ישראל והייתי להם לאלהים‬. It justifies the requirement of purity with the
presence of the holy expressed in the Priestly code in the Sinai pericope.
Conceptually one may also compare Lev 11:44–45:

For I am the LORD your God; ‫כי אני יהוה אלהיכם‬

consecrate yourselves therefore, ‫והתקדשתם‬
and be holy, ‫והייתם קדשים‬
for I am holy. ‫כי קדוש אני‬
You shall not defile yourselves . . . . . . ‫ולא תטמאו את־נפשתיכם‬
For I am the LORD who brought you up ‫כי אני יהוה המעלה אתכם מארץ‬
out of the land of Egypt, ‫מצרים‬
to be your God; ‫להית לכם לאלהים‬
you shall therefore be holy, ‫והייתם קדשים‬
for I am holy. ‫כי קדוש אני‬

37 See for example Ashley, Numbers, 106, without any substantiation.

384 christian frevel

The fourfold ‫כי‬-motivation (A “I am YHWH, your God”; B “I am holy”; A’

“I am YHWH, your savior”; B’ I am holy”) accounts for the ‘mimicry’ of the
people: to be holy and, hence, to avoid defilement. Purity is the mode of
encounter with the holy rather than an essential aspect of holiness. The
rationale is not ‘be pure for I am pure’ but ‘be holy for I am holy’. Purity
seems to be the exterior of holiness. While Lev 11 substantiates the com-
mand not to defile oneself by eating unclean animals by making an appeal
to the nature of God and the derived demand to be holy, the particularity
of Num 5 lies in its strong spatial conceptualization. If one replaces the
camp with the land, this also holds true for Num 35:34:

You shall not defile the land ‫ולא תטמא את־הארץ‬

in which you live, ‫אשר אתם ישבים בה‬
in the midst of which I dwell; ‫אשר אני שכן בתוכה‬
for I the LORD dwell in the midst ‫כי אני יהוה שכן בתוך בני ישראל‬
of the people of Israel.

As in Num 5, the requirement for purity follows from the concentric spa-
tial concept and the centrifugal force of the holy center and the presence
of the divine.38 However, the focus of Num 5:1–4 is a general view on the
constitution of the camp, rather than single and differentiated regulations
regarding purity. Accordingly, neither the temporal limits of uncleanness
nor the modes or rites to dissolve it are addressed. There are no rules
of responsibility, jurisdiction, or competence regarding the attestation
of impurities. The threefold ‫ כל‬is absolute and pretends that the cases
are obvious. There is no judgment by a priest as in Lev 13–14. The pas-
sage focuses on defilement and uncleanness more generally; the precise
and detailed regulations have to be commanded elsewhere (see below).
Thus, purity is in a sense the ‘regulative idea’ of the camp, its organization,
structure and form. The three modes of impurity are of overriding impor-
tance. They are characterized not as acts of active pollution but rather by
the fact that immediate and virtual contact with them is defiling and thus
endangers the whole camp. One can compare this to regulations for enter-
ing sacred areas in different cultures, which are often related to bodily
defined (often gender-biased) conditions of purity.39 Insofar as they are

38 For further observations on Num 35:33–34, see below.

39 Cf. regarding Egypt the paper of J. F. Quack in this volume; regarding Greece see the
papers of L.-M. Günther and N. Robertson, with references.
 purity conceptions in the book of numbers in context 385

applied generally in Num 5:1–4 to the camp, one can see the extension
of the holiness concept of sacred space to the whole congregation. The
brevity of the regulations in Num 5:1–4, without any further specification,
emphasizes their relatedness to the contextual presuppositions of a) the
commitment to the constitutive holiness of the community (Lev 11:44;
19:2; 20:26, et al.) and b) the graded holiness of the sacred space expanded
from the inner center to the outer fringe (Num 1–4).
A further hint that Num 5:1–4 is better understood as a compositional
hinge with general importance, rather than as a compendium with cat-
echetical purpose,40 may be seen in the lack of the natural, ‘regular’ and
unavoidable impurities (the blood of menstruation, childbirth and semi-
nal emission). These are not ominous in the same way as skin diseases,
irregular discharges and defiling contact with corpses.
Rhetorically, the threefold ‫ כל‬in v. 2aγb is underlined by the singular
phrase ‫מזכר עד־נקבה‬, which mentions both sexes explicitly.41 This seems
essential in order to avoid the misunderstanding that the strict purity laws
and the danger of defilement are only due to the fact that the ‫ מחנה‬is the
Israelite military camp (Deut 23:10–15) and therefore related only to the
men counted in the census (Num 1:36–45). The purity of the camp is
the responsibility of the whole congregation of the ‫בני ישראל‬, which com-
prises men, women and children, leaders and people, priests and Levites
to the same degree. If the understanding of the ‫ מחנה‬as military camp was
the (only) rationale of Num 5:1–4, the silence on defilement by excrement
and ejaculation (Deut 23:11–14) would be much more striking.
In sum: Num 5:1–4 is the general constitution of the camp’s holiness
and purity. By addressing three grave and general cases of defilement, it
integrates the purity laws of Leviticus as the foundation of the congrega-
tion. The constitution of the community is essentially defined by the pres-
ence of the Holy in its center.

40 Thus Achenbach, Vollendung, 501: “Ein einheitlicher, als Kompendium gedachter

Text mit Beispielen für die katechetische Unterweisung des Volkes”. In contrast, in a
recent article Achenbach labels the unit an episodic legend: “In einer episodenhaften ätio-
logischen Legende wird erzählt, man habe Aussätzige, Ausflussbehaftete und solche, die
durch Berührung mit einem (toten) Körper . . . verunreinigt gewesen seien, aus dem Lager
ausgeschlossen (V. 2)”; Achenbach, “Verunreinigung”, 360. This categorization underesti-
mates the legal character and compositional function of Num 5:1–4, but see Achenbach’s
appropriate considerations at the end of his article (see on this below).
41 Cf. both sexes regarding purity issues explicitly in Lev 12:5–7; 15:33. For the phrase ‫זכר‬
‫ ונקבה‬or ‫זכר או נקבה‬, cf. Gen 1:27; 5:2; 6:19; 7:3, 9, 16; Lev 3:1, 6; Deut 4:16.
386 christian frevel

2.2. The Significance of the Three Impurity Cases Regarding

Content and Context
In a first review we will focus on the three forms of impurity separately.
After that we will concentrate on defilement by corpses in particular and
subsequently come back to compositional and diachronic concerns. The
compositional function and the Janus face of the passage become clear
when we look at the three categories of impurity:
(1) ‫ כל־צרוע‬includes all skin diseases that were ascertained as anoma-
lies in Lev 13–14.42 There, the afflicted person is declared impure (‫טמא‬
D-stem) by the priest. In cases of doubt or unclear diagnosis, the priest
has to segregate (‫ סגר‬H-stem) the afflicted (‫ )נגע‬person and examine him
or her again after a period of seven days. In cases that are not diagnosed
as ‫ צרעת‬or that have healed up in the meantime, the priest declares the
person pure again (‫ טהר‬D-stem). Lev 14 gives directions for the cultic rein-
tegration of the healed person. As long as a person is declared unclean
(‫)טמא‬, he or she must live alone outside of the camp (‫הוא בדד ישב מחוץ‬
‫ למחנה מושבו‬Lev 13:46). While Lev 13–14 gives the more detailed regula-
tion, the isolation of the diseased outside the camp in Num 5 is in line
with Lev 13–14. Num 12:10–15 is a narrative application of the law: Miriam
is struck by ‫ צרעת‬and has to keep out of the camp for seven days. Thus
Num 5:2 links Lev 13–14 and Num 12 compositionally.
(2) ‫ כל־זב‬includes all kinds of bodily discharge, including secretion, pus,
ichor, semen and especially blood. It is striking that the discharge is nei-
ther specified nor narrowed down. Obviously, it is only understandable
with Lev 15 as its background. The noun ‫ זוב‬and the G-stem participle ‫זוב‬
are used in Lev 15 frequently to designate bodily or, more precisely, male
and female genital discharges that make a person temporarily unclean, so
that he or she is unable to attend the cult (‫)טמא‬. These defilements are
uncontrolled and involuntary but not pathological;43 they do not need
priestly appraisal. After cleansing, the person is potentially ‫‘ טהר‬pure’, that
is, capable of attending the cult again but has to wait a further period of
seven days until he or she is reintegrated into the cultic community. After
washing the clothes and the body in fresh water, he or she is clean ‫טהר‬

42 While less frequent than the noun ‫צרעת‬, the G-stem passive participle is used in Lev
13:44, 45; 14:3; 22:4 to classify the ‫צרעת‬-skin anomaly in a diagnostic manner (‘Diagnose-
bezeichnung’). Exod 4:6; Lev 14:2, and Num 12:10 (and other instances outside the Torah)
use the D-stem passive participle. See Seidl, “‫”צרעת‬, 469–75.
43 See Nihan, Torah, 282–83.
 purity conceptions in the book of numbers in context 387

(Lev 15:13, 28); the priest offers a ‫ חטאת‬and an ‫עולה‬-offering on the eighth
day to reintegrate the person through ritual purification (‫עליה‬/‫ויכפר עליו‬
Lev 15:14–15, 29–30).
The most striking difference between Num 5:2 and Lev 15 is that the
unclean person with abnormal bodily discharge does not have to leave
the camp in Leviticus.44 He or she may live in the camp but every contact
with him or her is defiling for the period of his or her uncleanness. We
will focus on this difference more precisely below.
(3) Finally, ‫ כל טמא לנפש‬mentions uncleanness literally, in contrast to
the two aforementioned cases. While ‫ כל צרוע‬and ‫ כל זב‬were made intel-
ligible as repercussions of the taxonomies of the purity laws in Lev 11–15,
the defilement by corpses is more specific. The impurity caused by dead
bodies is mentioned in Leviticus, but not at the same length as are the
‫ צרוע‬and ‫ זב‬cases. This argument is valid only if ‫ כל טמא לנפש‬refers to
dead human bodies exclusively and not to animal carcasses, which are
mentioned several times in Lev 11:8, 11, 24–25, 31–40. Touching the car-
cass of an unclean animal is as polluting as touching a corpse. But this
conception is not intended in Num 5, nor is it present at all in the book
of Numbers. Taking the semantics of the Torah into account, it is quite
clear that Num 5:2 covers dead human bodies only.45 The combination
of the adjective ‫ טמא‬with ‫ נפש‬introduced by the preposition ‫ ל‬would
then express the pollution caused by the realm of death: everyone who

44 But compare Deut 23:11–12 regarding the military camp.

45 The texts in the Hebrew Bible are largely but not entirely consistent in differentiat-
ing between corpses and carcasses. Usually the dead person or dead body is denoted by
participial forms of the root ‫( מות‬Gen 23:4, 6, 8; Exod 12:30; Num 17:13; 19:11, 13, 18; Deut 14:1;
26:14; 2 Sam 14:2; 2 Kgs 8:5; Job 33:20; Ps 31:13; 88:6, 11; Qoh 4:2, et al.). Except for Exod
21:34–36 where it is used for a carcass of an ox, the participle is restricted to deceased
humans and corpses. It can be used to indicate the recently deceased (e.g. Ezek 44:25) as
well as the long dead (e.g. Lam 3:6). ‫עצם‬, which literally means ‘bone’, is used in the plural
to denote a dead body or corpse (Judg 19:29; 1 Sam 31:13; 2 Sam 21:12, 13, 14; 1 Kgs 13:31; 1
Chr 10:12; Ezek 37:1, 7; Amos 2:1); the mummified body of Joseph (Gen 50:25; Exod 13:19;
Jos 24:32); or skeletons that have been dead for a longer period (1 Kgs 13:2, 31; 2 Kgs 13:21;
23:14, 16, 18, 20; 2 Chr 34:5; Jer 8:1; Ezek 6:5; 37:3, 4, 5, 7, 11; cf. Job 20:11; Ps 141:7). This term
is usually not used for carcasses. The same holds true for ‫פגר‬, which is used for corpses,
mostly in cases of death by force (Lev 26:30; Num 14:29, 32, 33; Isa 14:19; 37:36; Jer 41:9;
Nah 3:3; 2 Kgs 19:35: ‫ ;פגרים מתים‬et al.). Apart from Gen 15:11 there is no record of ‫פגר‬
denoting a carcass. On the contrary, the terminus technicus ‫ נבלה‬is used for corpses and
carcasses alike, but in a remarkable distribution between non-priestly and priestly texts:
While in the non-priestly tradition ‫ נבלה‬is used to denote a dead human body (Deut 21:23;
28:26; Josh 8:29; 1 Kgs 13:22, 24, 25, 28, 29, 30; 2 Kgs 9:37; Ps 79:2; Isa 5:25; 26:19; Jer 7:33; 9:21;
16:4; 19:7; 26:23; 34:20; 36:30), it is used in the priestly tradition solely for animal carcasses
(Lev 5:2; 7:24; 11:8, 11, 24, 25, 27, 28, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40; 17:15; 22:8; cf. Ezek 44:31). Finally,
‫ טרפה‬is a term that denotes the animal carcass especially under the aspect that the death
388 christian frevel

is unclean regarding the ‫נפש‬,46 which means most obviously becom-

ing unclean by touching a corpse. There are several predominantly late
instances in which ‫ נפש‬is related to death or the dead: Lev 19:28; 21:1, 11;
22:4; Num 5:2; 6:11; 9:6, 7, 10, 11; 19:11, 13; Hag 2:13. Although there is a con-
sensus that the term does not mean ‘soul’ as an entity separate from the
body, there is an ongoing discussion on the semantic value of ‫ נפש‬in the
above-listed instances: Does it denote ‘corpse’?

2.3. The Conception and Logic of Defilement by Corpses

If we look for example at Lev 19:28, ‫“ ושרט לנפש לא תתנו בבשרכם‬You shall
not make any gashes in your flesh for the dead” (NRSV), and compare it to
Deut 14:1, ‫ למת תתגדדו‬. . . ‫“ לא‬You must not lacerate yourselves . . . for the
dead” (NRSV), ‫ נפש‬appears to be synonymous with ‫מות‬. The same holds
true for Lev 21:1, which begins with the general commandment regard-
ing the priests: ‫“ לנפש לא־יטמא בעמיו‬No one shall defile himself for a
dead person among his relatives”. By defining different social relations
that allow or prohibit defilement,47 vv. 2–4 make clear that the funeral
and the maintenance of the deceased are addressed (cf. Ezek 44:25–27).
Thus it is obvious that any corpse defiles in some way, yet depending on
the degree of family relation, defilement of the priest may be permitted.

of the animal was not natural (Gen 31:39; Exod 22:12, 30; Lev 7:24; 17:15; 22:8; Ezek 4:14; 44:31;
Nah 2:13). In the aspect of violence, the term may be seen as analogous to ‫פגר‬.
While the living animal is addressed as ‫( נפש )ה(חיה‬Gen 1:20, 21, 24, 30; 9:10, 12; Lev
11:10, etc.), the carcass of an animal is never designated as a ‫נפש‬, esp. not in the priestly
tradition. Thus, it is semantically clear that Num 5:2 comprises human corpses only. This
is further substantiated by the appositional ‫ נפש )ה(אדם‬in Num 9:6, 7; 19:11, 13.
There are some additional terms denoting a corpse or carcass that are of less relevance
but should be mentioned here for the sake of completeness: ‫גויה‬, literally ‘body’, can
denote a human and an animal body alike (Gen 47:18; Neh 9:37; cf. Ezek 1:11, 23). In Judg
14:8–9 the carcass of a lion is meant, in 1 Sam 31:10, 12 the dead body of Saul (1 Chr 10:12
uses ‫ גופה‬instead). Ps 110:6 and Nah 3:3 use the term as a synonym of ‫פגר‬, denoting dead
human bodies. Finally, ‫ מפלה‬denotes a carcass in Judg 14:8.
46 The Septuagint translates ‫ נפש‬literally, as in all other relevant instances; in Num 5:2
καὶ πάντα ἀκάθαρτον ἐπὶ ψυχῇ. For the understanding of ψυχή as ‘vitality’, see Rösel, “Die
Geburt der Seele in der Übersetzung”, 160–66, esp. 160: “vor allem bei Homer bezeichnet
ψυχή die Lebenskraft des Menschen, die am Atem erkennbar ist”. Rösel wants to see traces
of a conceptual shift in Lev 21:1 in the use of the exceptional plural Ἐν ταῖς ψυχαῖς instead
of the singular (see further Rösel, “Der hebräische Mensch im griechischen Gewand”, 80).
However, the change of the number may be influenced by Lev 21:11 and the exceptions in
Lev 21:2–4.
47 It is striking that the wife of the priest (see Lev 21:7, 13–15; Ezek 44:22) is not men-
tioned at all. The only reasonable conclusion is that it is permitted for a priest to bury his
wife.
 purity conceptions in the book of numbers in context 389

Very interesting in this respect are the restrictions on the high priest in
Lev 21:11, where the wording differs slightly: ‫ועל כל־נפשת מת לא יבא לאביו‬
‫ולאמו לא יטמא‬. The NRSV translates: “He shall not go where there is a
dead body; he shall not defile himself even for his father or mother”. The
demand for purity is increased with the rank of the priest, because of his
greater proximity to the sanctum, the holy and pure center. While every
priest may defile himself in burying his close relatives, the highest priest,
or High Priest, may not even defile himself in the case of parental death.
He is generally warned not to approach any ‫נפשת מת‬. The phrase ‫נפש‬
‫ מת‬is also attested in Num 6:6 in the law of the Nazirite, which is closely
related to the purity prescriptions for the High Priest. If ‫ נפש‬were to be
understood simply as a synonym of ‫ פגר‬or the like, the phrase ‫נפש מת‬
would be a pleonasm.
Because the basic meaning of ‫ נפש‬is ‘gorge’, ‘throat’, ‘desire’,48 and the
noun does express vigor and vitality, the denotation ‘corpse’ as a euphe-
mism49 was challenged convincingly by Diethelm Michel and Horst
Seebass.50 They argued, in contrast, that in the context of death the noun
denotes the ‘human spirit’ or vitality that was dissolved in the process
of dying.51 ‫( נפש מת‬Lev 21:11; Num 6:6) means the ‫ נפש‬of the deceased
rather than the death of the ‫ נפש‬or ‘dead ‫’נפש‬.52 Because of the impor-
tance of this concept, some general remarks on the ‫ נפש‬should be made
here: we must regard ‫נפש‬, in essence, as the main conceptualization of
‘personality’. It comprises the actual vitality of a given person, including
aspects of biography, status, individuality and performative presence. In
this regard, it is never detached from the physical, mental, historical and
social existence of a person. In the case of death, the aspect of physical
presence diminishes and the capability for active motion decreases, but
the ‫ נפש‬continues to ‘represent’ the deceased. He can still be addressed
and is somehow—in a reduced form—present and part of the living
world. His ‫ נפש‬abides in the Netherworld (‫ )שאול‬during the process

48 See Köhler and Baumgartner, “‫”נפש‬, 672–74.

49 See for example Wolff, Anthropologie, 43; Lewis, “Dead”, 229.
50 See Michel, “Næp̄ æš als Leichnam?” 81–84; Seebass, “‫”נפש‬, 531–555; Lehnart, “Leiche”.
Berlejung, “Variabilität”, 294, again opts for the dead body denoting especially the corrupt-
ible parts.
51 See Kühn, Totengedenken, 130–34.
52 If ‫ מת‬is to be rendered as a masculine singular participle, it cannot be easily
interpreted as an adjective modifying ‫ נפש‬because of the incongruence in gender with
‫נפש‬, which is usually feminine. However, the numeric incongruence in Lev 21:11 conflicts
with the understanding ‘a ‫ נפש‬of a deceased’.
390 christian frevel

of decomposition (Pss 16:10; 30:4; 49:16, etc.) but is at the same time not
completely absent from the world of the living, because of the enduring
remembrance of his former social environment.53 In fact the ‫ נפש‬can-
not act anymore, but it is nevertheless not powerless. Thus the simple
contrast of either existing on earth or subsisting in a shadowy mode in
the Netherworld (‫ )רפאים‬is a false dichotomy. This is the background for
the gradual concept of death (e.g. Ps 88). Following this fuzzy concept,
one may admit that there is a tendency for the ‫ נפש‬to have a detached or
dissociated existence not physically but socially. Anthropologically, the
phrase ‫‘ נפש מת‬the ‫ נפש‬of the deceased’ is thus most relevant in a twofold
respect: There seems to be a tendency in the development of post-exilic
anthropology for the holistic (synthetic, aspective, stereometric) concept
of the ‘person’ as a psychosomatic unity to be broken up by dichotomic
or trichotomic concepts, which act more or less on the assumption of a
‘separate soul’.54 The second aspect is that one may see more clearly the
connection between death and defilement. It is not the dead body and its
characteristics: the alienating deadness, motionlessness and the strange
rigor mortis or the rapid process of decay. Neither does it stem from the
body or the corpse itself, or from a demon or demonic capacity, as in the
Persian belief.55 Instead, the danger emerges from the vitality, presence,
personality (‫ )נפש‬that has gone out of the body but is not totally detached
from the body. This is not exactly the conception of a spirit of the dead

53 Cf. the Zororastrian concepts of uruan, daēnā and frauuašī. These components “refer
not only to life, but remain relevant after death” (Hutter, “Impurity”, 16); following Hut-
ter, frauuašī refers to the vitality, uruan to the soul and daēnā to the ‘(religious) view’.
Especially relevant is the concept of uruan, which is not the same as the ‫נפש‬-concept but
which seems to be comparable: “This soul can temporarily leave the person (still alive); at
the same time, it is the component of humanity, which endures after death, when spirit,
mental power or vitality have ceased to exist. After death, this soul is the bearer of human
thinking and feeling and must take responsibility before the otherworldly judgment seat”
(Hutter, “Impurity”, 17).
54 Whether this tendency is influenced by Egyptian concepts, by early Greek philoso-
phy or is due to an innerbiblical development should be discussed anew. If one takes into
account the giving of breath in Gen 2:7 or testimonies such as Pss 49:16; 104:29; Lev 17:11;
Job 11:20; 12:10; 14:22, etc., one may find the roots of a dichotomic conceptualization. Cf.
Frevel, “Die Frage nach dem Menschen”, 36, and Frevel, “Leben”, 295–98.
55 Following Zoroastrian conceptions, “the corpse demon (Av. Nasu-, Pahl. Nasuš,
Nasrušt) was believed to rush into the body and contaminate all that came in contact with
it” (Boyce, “Corpse”, n.p.; cf. Hutter, “Impurity”, 14; 18, who stresses the “pivotal challenge
which death implicates for the bereaved . . . to minimize the pollution emanating from the
dead body” (18, cf. 20, 25).
 purity conceptions in the book of numbers in context 391

(Akk. eṭemmu,56 Hebr. ‫ אטים‬or more often ‫)אוב‬, although the similarity of
the abiding ‫ נפש‬and the spirit of the dead are irrefutable. The ‫ נפש‬as the
vital agency or vitality is displaced by the process of death, but it is not
totally removed from the deceased at a certain point in time. Because it
is in a way ‘out of order’, it is dangerous and thereby defiling. The ‫ נפש‬is
comparable to blood,57 which is the substance conveying vigor and vital-
ity and, hence—once it is emitted and thus ‘out of place’—one of the
most defiling substances possible. However, the difference from blood is
that ‫ נפש‬cannot function as an agent in the cult. The purifying capacity is
restricted to blood alone, because the ‫ נפש‬is not material and is therefore
impossible to comprehend as an agent in cultic or ritual acts.
In categories of time, death is not so much a single point in time as a
process. In the phase of transition, the ‫ נפש‬appears to have an endangering
power that is no longer effective in the deceased but is not yet apart from
the body.58 This intermediate state, which may last until the corpse is fully
decayed, explains why direct contact with the corpse, as well as contact
with the realm of the deceased, is defiling. If we accept this line of argu-
mentation, the use of ‫ נפש‬in a defiling capacity becomes quite clear.

2.4. Defilement by Corpses in Numbers 19

Looking from this perspective at the main chapter on the impurity of
corpses and the ritual addressing it in Num 19,59 we may understand the
logic of the two different passages concerning defilement by corpses in

56 Following the Mesopotamian conception, a human (awīlum) splits into two “enti-
ties” upon dying, the corpse (pagru), on the one hand, and the deathly ghost or spirit
(Sum. GIDIM, Akk. eṭemmu ), which descends into the Netherworld, on the other hand (cf.
Loretz, “Nekromantie”, 304; Tropper, “Nekromantie”, 49–56). The eṭemmu is “some form of
intangible, but visible and audible ‘spirit’. . . . Normally the dead body was buried and burial
allowed for the preservation and maintenance of the deceased’s identity after death and
for his continued connection with both the living and the dead members of the family.
Burial is crucial, for if a corpse is unburied . . . the dead person cannot be integrated into
the structured community of the dead” (Abusch, “Etemmu”, 309).
57 This does not mean that ‫ נפש‬denotes the blood of the dead! Noam, “Corpse-Blood
Impurity”, 249, discusses the possibility of equating ‫ נפש‬with ‫“ דם‬blood” according to the
phrase ‫ כי הדם הוא הנפש‬in Deut 12:23, as suggested by Yadin regarding 11Q19 50:4–7. This
attempt fails, as Noam has convincingly argued and as can be seen in Num 6:11, where ‫נפש‬
is not accompanied by ‫מות‬. Hence, it cannot be a synonym for blood only. Blood indeed
has a defiling capacity, but it is used as a purifying agent in the cult also. Priests do not
become unclean by touching blood in cultic activity.
58 Cf. Kühn, Totengedenken, 134.
59 The present paper does not aim to cover the complex ritual in detail. Num 19 consists
of different parts, roughly divided as follows: the making of the ritual detergent, vv. 2–10;
the general law on defilement by a corpse, vv. 11–13; specifying subsets, vv. 14–16; ritual
392 christian frevel

Num 19:11 and 19:13, 14–16. The second part of the chapter, after the mak-
ing of the ‫מי )ה(נדה‬, begins with a general statement (v. 11):

The one touching a dead [body] ‫הנגע במת לכל־נפש אדם‬

of any human being,
He will be unclean seven days. ‫וטמא שבעת ימים‬

Every contact with a corpse is defiling, without exception. This is in agree-

ment with Lev 21:1–4, where the difference between allowed and prohib-
ited cases of pollution through contact with a corpse was enumerated for
ordinary priests. This uncleanness, which is unavoidable in cases of fam-
ily funerals, epidemic plagues or theaters of war, applies to all Israelites.
Without cleansing, the sanctuary will be afflicted with pollution. The dif-
ference between carcasses (Lev 11) and human corpses is accentuated by
the appositional ‫לכל־נפש אדם‬. As can be seen clearly in other attesta-
tions in Lev 24:17; 31:35, 40, 46; Ezek 27:13; 1 Chr 5:21 and also in Num 9:13,
this phrase has to be understood as a priestly phrase, by analogy with the
classification of ‫( נפש חיה‬Gen 1:20, 21, 24, 30; 2:19; 9:10, 12, 15, 16; Lev 11:10,
46; Ezek 47:9), denoting a human being instead of an animal.60 Thus, the
additional phrase separates Num 19 clearly from Lev 11 and the unclean-
ness that is caused by carcasses.61 The latter does not need the water of
lustration or a ‫חטא‬-cleansing. The one who has touched a carcass of a
clean (Lev 11:39–40) or unclean (Lev 11:8, 24–25, 27–28, 31) animal has to
wash his clothes and remains unclean until the end of the day. Num 19:12
illustrates the procedure in the period of uncleanness in the ‘human’ case,
which is seven times longer: The polluted person has to purify him- or
herself (‫ חטא‬tH-stem) twice, on the third and seventh days, otherwise he
or she shall not be clean again. The ritual of lustration is described in vv.
17–19. It ends after seven days, in the same way as Lev 11:25, 28, 40: the
defiled person has to wash his or her clothes (‫ )כבס בגדיו‬and, addition-
ally, him- or herself (‫)רחץ במים‬, and he or she becomes clean at the end
of the day.

of purification, vv. 17–19; additional regulations, vv. 20–21. See most recently Berlejung,
“Variabilität”, 289–301 (with literature); Frevel, “Cadavres”.
60 One can discuss whether ‫ אדם‬may be understood grammatically like ‫ חי‬as an adjec-
tive or whether the noun is used in an adjectival sense. Be that as it may, the literal under-
standing of a constructus-relationship phrase, ‘a ‫ נפש‬of a human’, likewise resonates (see
Gen 9:5 and Num 19:13).
61 From a compositional viewpoint, it is striking that the purity laws in the Torah begin
with animal carcasses in Lev 11 and end with human corpses in Num 19.
 purity conceptions in the book of numbers in context 393

The second general statement, in Num 19:13, underlines the relevance of

the defilement for the sanctuary and differs significantly in its expression:

Everyone who touches a dead [body] ‫כל־הנגע במת‬

—a ‫ נפש‬of a human being who dies— ‫בנפש האדם אשר־ימות‬
and who does not purify himself ‫ולא יתחטא‬
has defiled the tabernacle of the Lord; ‫את־משכן יהוה טמא‬
such a person shall be cut off from Israel. ‫ונכרתה הנפש ההוא מישראל‬
Since the water of lustration was not ‫כי מי נדה לא־זרק עליו‬
dashed on him,
He remains unclean; his uncleanness is ‫טמא יהיה עוד טמאתו בו‬
[still] on him.

As in v. 13, the difference from Lev 11 is stated explicitly by qualifying the

dead as human. In contrast to v. 13, the defining ‫נפש‬-phrase is not intro-
duced by a ‫ ל‬of specification but by the repetition of the ‫ ב‬that marked
the object of the ‫נגע‬-case (‫)במת‬. The determination of the noun qual-
ifies the ‫ נפש‬explicitly as ‘a ‫ נפש‬of a human being’,62 which is further
defined as deceased. Thus the focus shifts from ‫ במת‬to ‫בנפש‬: the defiling
and thus dangerous power is located in the ‫ נפש‬of the dead, which is
related to the corpse, and not in the corpse as such. There is no restric-
tion on direct physical contact because there is no definite location of
the polluting power. Consequently, not only is touching the corpse itself
defiling, but so are all objects, areas, zones and spaces in which the ‫נפש‬
of the deceased is ‘present’.63 This is treated in the three following sub-
sets, which are meant as examples and introduced as ‫התורה‬: Dying in
a tent (v. 14) stands for any enclosed and roofed space, an open vessel
(v. 15) stands for any endangered object within the ‘realm’ of the dead,
and ‘touching’ the ‫ נפש‬in the open field (v. 16) stands for any open space.64

62 The only other instance of ‫ נפש האדם‬is Gen 9:6, where God requires a reckoning
for the death of every human being.
63 Maccobi convincingly argues against the analogy of ‘gas’ to describe the polluting
atmosphere of a ‫נפש‬: “Pollution was not some substance that crept around rooms. It was
a state or condition of people or vessels that were situated, together with a corpse, in a
certain kind of area” (Maccobi, “Tent”, 203). Hence, one should not assume from Num 19:13
that ‫ נפש‬has a certain material or physical quality.
64 Noam, “Corpse-Blood Impurity”, 250, has recently suggested that in Num 19:16, ‫או‬
‫ בדם‬should be added in the biblical text, because it seems to be presumed in the Temple
Scroll 11Q19 50:4–7, the War Scroll 1QM 9:7–9a, and in a Geniza fragment of the Midrash
Sifre Zuta on Num 19:11. Although the lack of blood is striking, it is methodologically
394 christian frevel

The inner logic is the spatial dimension rather than the relation to the
deceased vis-à-vis degree of kinship or degree of social familiarity.65 While
the first subset defines all persons who are defiled by the ‫ נפש‬of a dead
body (everyone who is inside and everyone who enters the room where a
dead body is present: direct and indirect contact), the second makes clear
that any open space is part of the intended enclosure, but a sealed space
in the surroundings of a dead body is to be treated differently: “The opera-
tive principle is that the impurity present within the structure invades
all of its interior air, or space, and only sealed vessels resist the impu-
rity of the atmosphere”.66 Since the open field in the third subset is not
determinable by space and time, the contamination is restricted to direct
contact. Thus the permanence of the defiling power is defined by further
classification in four modes of touching connected by the coordinator ‫או‬.
(1) Irrespective of all circumstances, the one slain by the sword is defiling.
This is crucial because there seems no escape from defilement in cases of
war. Num 31:19–24 is the narrative implementation of this case.67 (2) With
the second case and the absolute form ‘the dead’ (‫)המת‬, the perspective
is expanded again to all cases of death. (3) The focus on the ‫עצם אדם‬
in the third case enlarges the category of defiling matter and the period
of defilement. ‫ עצם‬literally means a single bone. If a skeleton is meant,
Hebrew usually uses the plural (as shown in note 45, above). Thus any
human bone, especially a skeleton, is defiling. The expansion to human
bones makes the defilement durable because of the long-lasting existence
of bones. (4) Thus the last stage logically refers to the grave as the con-
fined space of bones, that is, their usual abode.68

problematic to amend the text. The assumption of a homoioteleuton is not convincing

(cf. also the LXX, and Sam). Perhaps the lack of blood should be ascribed to its use as ritual
detergent. This would require further discussion.
65 Thus Berlejung, “Variabilität”, 297–98, who otherwise correctly stresses the reduced
order of the periphery. Because people die in enclosed spaces in the city, the confronta-
tion is not ‘the city’ against ‘the field’ but ‘the tent’ (as a roofed, enclosed space, see LXX
ἐν οἰκίᾳ) and ‘the field’ as periphery.
66 Levine, Numbers 1–20, 467. Instead of the inappropriate metaphor ‘gas’ (see note 63,
above), Berlejung, “Variabilität”, 321, uses the metaphor of a filthy film (“Schmutzfilm”).
67 We cannot discuss the singularities of vv. 21–23 here. See Wright, “Purification” for
the differences from Num 19 and the striking supplementary content of Eleazar’s speech.
68 Besides exceptional cases (e.g. 2 Kgs 9:37; Jer 9:21; 36:30; Ezek 39:15; Tob 1:17), human
bones are not to be found in a natural or cultivated environment, because of the high esti-
mation of the dead and burial customs in ancient societies. Thus the usual place for bones
or skeletons is the grave. For the dangerous realm of graves, see the marking of the places
meant as a warning against pollution in m. Sheqalim 1:1; 1:46; Mt 23:27. Perhaps 2 Kgs 23:6b
also attests to the defiling power of graves when Josiah throws the dust of the pulverized
asherah “upon the graves of the common people” to underline the irreversibility of cultic
 purity conceptions in the book of numbers in context 395

Table 2.
Matter Time Space
One who has been killed between slaughter and any space
by a sword burial
One who has died after death until burial any open or enclosed
and beginning of space
decomposition
a human bone or during and after any open but usually
skeleton decomposition of the body enclosed space
a grave utilization phase a defined enclosed space

The arrangement of the four cases expands the temporal dimension of

defilement from the time of death to the existence in the grave, which
is an enduring ‘abode’. Concurrently, the spatial dimension in which the
defilement is taking place is again delimited from every place to a specific
and marked one. With the grave, the defiling power is restricted to an
enclosure, but it is enlarged in its temporal aspect and therefore totally
disconnected from the time of death.
What appears to be an incomprehensible casuistic enhancement and
accentuation of Num 19:14–16 becomes quite logical on the textual level
at second glance. The realm of death and the defiling power of the ‫נפש‬
are durable or even everlasting. They do not end with the abiding of the
spirit of the dead in the Netherworld. Body and vitality may not be fig-
ured as separate realms, even after a long period of time. The ‫ נפש‬has a
relationship to the once-related body. This forms part of the conception
of ‘person’ in ancient Hebrew thought.

2.5. The Cultic and Conceptual Dimension of Impurity by

Touching a Corpse
Finally we have to consider the cultic dimension of ‫ כל טמא לנפש‬in Num
5:2 in particular. Conceptually, the life-giving power of the Holy and the
realm of death are considered totally incompatible, just as purity is to
impurity and wholeness to incompleteness. Integrity (or better, approxi-
mative integrity) is a presupposition for attending the cult. Because the
encounter with death impairs this integrity temporarily, it hinders the
people involved from participating in the cult at least for a certain period

use symbolically (cf. the long-term defiling capacity of bones in 2 Kgs 23:14, 16 and the
defiling sacrilege of slaughter in 2 Kgs 23:20).
396 christian frevel

of time. Otherwise the power of death is polluting and defiling to the

sanctuary.69 Holiness and impurity are considered incompatible: “Since
the quintessence and source of holiness resides with God, it is imperative
that Israel controls the occurrence of impurity lest it impinge upon the
realm of the holy God”.70 In this context, Milgrom points to the impor-
tance of the relationship, and the opposition, between impurity and death
on the one hand and the life-giving power of the cult on the other: “Of all
the diachronic changes that occur in the development of Israel’s impurity
laws, this clearly is the most significant: the total severance of impurity
from the demonic and its reinterpretation as a symbolic system reminding
Israel of its imperative to cleave to life and reject death”.71 Because impu-
rity is contrary to life in a symbolic respect, the holy sanctum—which
represents the power of life given by the resident God—has to be kept
free from all uncleanness. Milgrom’s statement includes the diachronic
appraisal that this system is not the earliest stage in the purity system.
While it is not easy to determine the development precisely,72 it seems
obvious that this system is represented in some later texts of the book of
Leviticus and the later Priestly stages of the book of Numbers.
A first hint in this direction in the book of Numbers can be found in
the law of the Nazirite, where defilement by touching a corpse is a cen-
tral issue (Num 6:6–12). The vow of the Nazirite becomes invalid in case
of uncleanness, even if the encounter was inadvertent and unwitting
(Num 6:9). This could happen, for example, with a sudden death in the
presence of the Nazirite. Because he or she is assigned to the sphere of
God (‫ קדש הוא ליהוה‬v. 8), the demand for purity is as strong as for the
High Priest (Lev 21:11). He or she may not even touch his or her parents in
the case of their death (v. 7). Although the Nazirite is not urged to keep
in proximity to the sanctuary, his or her vow creates a strong bond to
God, who is connected to the sanctuary. Thus the Nazirite is required to
maintain a higher degree of purity.
Further hints can be found in the specific law in Num 19: A period of
seven days must elapse before cultic reintegration can take place on the
eighth day, as mentioned in Num 19:11, 12, 14, 16, 19 and in Num 31:19, 24.

69 See the comparable conception in Ezek 43:7–9, where the proximity of the king’s
death in the palace is rendered unavoidably defiling to the sanctuary (see Levine, Numbers
1–20, 476; and the paper of Michael Konkel in this volume).
70 Milgrom, Numbers, 346.
71 Milgrom, Numbers, 346.
72 See for example 2 Kgs 23:14, 16, 20; Ezek 9:7; 44:23–25; Hag 2:13–14 against Judg 20:6;
2 Kgs 13:21; Ezek 37:2; Jer 31:40.
 purity conceptions in the book of numbers in context 397

Neither Lev 21:1–4 nor Lev 21:11 mentions temporary sanctions. The term
‫ חלל‬N-stem in v. 4 implies exclusion from all cultic functions.73 The dis-
qualification from attending the cult is addressed explicitly in the passage
on the Passover in Num 9:6–12. For some men, the period of uncleanness
resulting from touching a dead body (‫)טמאים לנפש אדם אנשים אשר היו‬
coincides with the fixed date of the first Passover after the exodus (Num
9:1–5). They are not able to attend the festival at the proper time (‫ולא־יכלו‬
‫ לעשת־הפסח ביום ההוא‬v. 6). These men argue that they should be given
the privilege of fulfilling their cultic duties: “Why must we be kept from
presenting the Lord’s offering at its appointed time among the Israelites?”
(‫ למה נגרע לבלתי הקרב את־קרבן יהוה במעדו בתוך בני ישראל‬v. 7). The
problem occurs because of the general obligation to celebrate the exo-
dus annually as a perpetual ordinance (Exod 12:14, 17).74 The Passover is
established as part of Israelite identity: Foreigners (‫ בן־נכר‬Exod 12:43) and
uncircumcised sojourners (‫ כל־ערל‬Exod 12:48, cf. Num 9:14)75 are excluded
from eating it. There is no exemption from this obligation for any Israelite
(Num 9:13), but purity is required because the Passover is considered a
sacrifice (‫)קרבן‬. Uncleanness inhibits cultic attendance, especially the con-
sumption of sacrifices (Lev 7:19, 21, cf. 22:4–6). The solution for the people
temporarily excluded from the sacrifice is the postponement of the date
of the festival until one month later (Num 9:10–12). Thus Num 9 clearly
illustrates the requirement of purity in cultic affairs not only for matters of
sacrifice (Lev 27:11) but for all attendees alike. Additionally, it shows that
the congregation that is constituted by the celebration of the exodus is a
pure community that should not be affected by any impurity.
Interestingly enough, it is not skin disease or discharge that is used as
an example for discussing the degree of cultic obligation, but the impurity
of touching a dead body. This underlines the centrality of this issue in the
book of Numbers synchronically and likely diachronically, too.
The impurity caused by a corpse, that is, the ‫ נפש‬of the deceased, causes
exclusion from cultic activity because the affected person is unclean. The
defilement does not affect the sanctum as such, as can be seen clearly

73 Cf. for the duties of priesthood Lev 21:9, 15; 22:9, and ‫ חלל‬in the sense ‘to make a
vow invalid’ in Num 30:3.
74 The phrase in Exod 12:14, 17 ‫ לדרתיכם חקת עולם‬is attested further in Exod 27:21;
30:21; Lev 3:17; 6:11; 7:36; 10:9; 17:7; 23:14, 21, 31, 41; 24:3; Num 10:8; 15:15; 18:23; 35:29. No other
commandment is related to a cultic obligation that comprises all Israelites positively in an
act that requires purity for its accomplishment.
75 The requirement of circumcision is lacking in Num 9:14.
398 christian frevel

from Num 19:13, 20.76 Only in the event of default is the sanctuary defiled
by the uncleanness: If the polluted person is not sprinkled with the water
of lustration on the third and seventh days, there is no purification and
the defilement continues to affect the sanctuary. Because the pollution
is serious, it also affects the sanctum from afar, without physical contact.
The gravity of the transgression is marked by the definitive exclusion from
the congregation (‫ ונכרתה הנפש ההוא מתוך הקהל‬Num 19:13, 20).77
However, Num 5:2 prescribes that every unclean person (‫)כל טמא לנפש‬
shall be put out of the camp. Is this in accord with the other instruc-
tions in the Torah? To answer this question, let us return to these other
instances. Lev 22:4–7 is very similar to Num 5:2:

No one of Aaron’s offspring ‫איש איש מזרע אהרן‬

who has a skin disease or suffers a discharge ‫והוא צרוע או זב‬
may eat of the sacred donations until he is ‫בקדשים לא יאכל עד אשר יטהר‬
clean.
Whoever touches anything made unclean by ‫והנגע בכל־טמא־נפש‬
a corpse
or a man who has had an emission of semen, ‫או איש אשר־תצא ממנו שכבת־זרע‬
and whoever touches any swarming thing ‫או איש אשר יגע בכל־שרץ‬
by which he may be made unclean ‫אשר יטמא־לו‬
or any human being by whom he may be ‫או באדם אשר יטמא־לו‬
made unclean
—whatever his uncleanness may be— ‫לכל טמאתו‬
the person who touches any such shall be ‫נפש אשר תגע־בו וטמאה עד־הערב‬
unclean until evening
and shall not eat of the sacred donations ‫ולא יאכל מן־הקדשים‬
unless he has washed his body in water. ‫כי אם־רחץ בשרו במים‬

76 There is no difference between ‫ את־משכן יהוה טמא‬in v. 13 and ‫את־מקדש יהוה‬

‫ טמא‬in v. 20. The same holds true for the variation between ‫ מישראל‬and ‫ מתוך הקהל‬in
the ‫כרת‬-phrase.
77 See the ‫כרת‬-formula in Exod 12:15, 19; 30:33, 38; 31:14; Lev 7:20, 21, 25, 27; 17:4, 9, 10, 14;
18:29; 19:8; 20:3, 5, 6, 17, 18; 22:3; 23:29; Num 9:13; 15:30, 31; cf. further Num 4:18. The seriousness
can be seen further in the fact that the law of Num 19 covers the Israelite and the foreigner
(‫ )גר‬alike as a perpetual statute (Num 19:10, 21; cf. Exod 29:9; Lev 16:29, 34; Num 10:8).
 purity conceptions in the book of numbers in context 399

When the sun sets he shall be clean; ‫ובא השמש וטהר ואחר יאכל מן־‬
and afterward he may eat of the sacred ‫הקדשים‬
donations,
for they are his food. ‫כי לחמו הוא‬

Again we can see stricter requirements for priests, who are explicitly not
allowed to eat from the offerings not only in five cases of uncleanness
caused by themselves (skin disease, discharge, touching a corpse, seminal
flow, touching a swarming thing) but in every case of secondary unclean-
ness caused by touching an unclean person. This latter is explicitly inde-
pendent of the type of uncleanness. The secondary pollution causes a
period of uncleanness until the evening. The duration of cases of direct
uncleanness is not stated; only the newly achieved pure state is men-
tioned as a qualification. Nor is it explicitly stated whether the priest has
to remain outside the camp in the relevant cases of skin disease, discharge
or pollution by a corpse, although we cannot exclude that this is implied.
Thus we cannot adjudicate on the question of whether the person has to
leave the camp. The same holds true for Lev 21:1–4 because the ‫חלל‬-state
of priesthood does not imply segregation from the community. But again
we cannot judge whether the priest also has to leave the camp if he has
made himself unclean by touching a corpse.
The above-discussed narrative of the deferral of the Passover seems
to be more explicit. The men come to Moses and Aaron (‫ויקרבו לפני‬
‫ משה ולפני אהרן‬Num 9:6) and make their plea. Jacob Milgrom has argued
that the phrase ‫ קרב לפני‬is intentionally used instead of ‫קרב אל‬:
The use of lifnei, ‘before,’ instead of ʾel, ‘to,’ with the verb karav is deliberate,
indicating proximity but not contact. It is used whenever ritual or etiquette
requires one to keep one’s distance, for example, women before communal
leaders (27:2; Josh 17:4), lay Israelites before God (e.g. Exod 16:9), or, as here,
contaminated persons before Moses.78
The statistical base is too small to decide whether this apparent ten-
dency is being interpreted correctly. Whatever the case, the persons face
Moses and Aaron, and it is not stated explicitly that the leaders (as in
Num 31:13) have moved outside the camp. Thus it appears that the appli-
cation of Num 19 in Num 9 is not acquainted with Num 5:2: the defiled

78 Milgrom, Numbers, 68.

400 christian frevel

persons may be inside the camp. If we look at Num 19, there is only a slight
indication that the person who is polluted by a corpse should leave the
camp. The red heifer is slaughtered outside of the camp (Num 19:3, 7), and
the ashes of the burnt heifer are deposited outside the camp in a clean
place. But nothing is said about the whereabouts of the unclean persons
on which the water of lustration is sprinkled on the third and seventh
days (Num 19:11–22). However, the warriors who have been defiled in the
Midianite War explicitly have to keep outside the camp for seven days, in
accordance with Num 19:11 (Num 31:19–24).79 This is a strong indication
that the (military) camp is imagined as a pure place, and this conception
accords with Num 5:1–4. Although there is need of further substantiation,
we may dare to assume that Num 31:19–24 may be preceded by Num 5
diachronically.80

2.6. Further Compositional Considerations on Numbers 5:1–4

The formulation ‫ טמא לנפש‬was incomprehensible without either re-
course to Lev 21:1, 11; 22:4 or the anticipation of Num 9:6–10 and Num 19.
By encompassing the whole congregation rather than the priests only,
Num 5:2 offers a more general formulation and therefore presumes the
general law in Num 19 as its setting. By accentuating the fact that the
defiled person has to leave the camp, Num 5:2 is more advanced and
goes further than the general law in Num 19, where no such exclusion is
ordained. With the link to Num 31:19–24, the horizon of Num 5:2 reaches
beyond Num 19 and comprises most of the migratory campaign, up to
the allocation of Transjordan in Num 32. Num 19 is the central chapter
on purity from corpse contamination and at first glance it seems to be
isolated from the central Pentateuchal laws and especially the Sinaitic
purity laws. Its compositional location may be influenced by the narra-
tive of Num 16–17, as is often argued, and the ‘digression’ of Num 18 is not
the strongest argument against this hypothesis: The priests are the only
ones who may enter the taboo zone without endangering themselves.81 Be
that as it may, it is striking that compositionally, Num 19 is the last great

79 The narrative of Tobit’s engagement in burying a person strangled in the market-

place gives a further hint: After the burial, Tobit spends the night outside his own house,
in the courtyard, because of the defilement (µεµιαµµένος, only in G I).
80 See Seebass, Numeri, 292, 306; Achenbach, Vollendung, 615–22.
81 See Frevel, Numeri, 257, 261. For rejecting Num 20 as the compositional anchor, see
Achenbach, “Verunreinigung”, 362.
 purity conceptions in the book of numbers in context 401

Fig. 3. Compositional Hinge.

chapter on purity issues in the Torah, while Lev 11 is the first one. Lev 11
(impurity by carcasses) and Num 19 (impurity by corpses) are clearly
related to each other by theme.82 This is not by chance, as can be seen in
the framing relationship of Lev 10:1–8 (sin of Aaron’s sons) and Num 20:1–
13 (‘sin’ of Aaron and Moses).83 The purity laws in Leviticus and Numbers
are arranged intentionally. However, Num 19 remains textually ‘afar’ from
Lev 11–15.84 Compositionally, Num 5:1–4 bridges the gap by setting the
purity agenda for the camp. On the one hand, Num 19 is introduced as
the general law that makes the ‫ טמא לנפש‬comprehensible; on the other
hand, Num 5:1–4 forms a link to the priestly agenda in Lev 21 regarding
defilement by corpses.
Hence, on a diachronic level it is obvious that Num 5:1–4 presumes not
only Num 19 and a certain compositional form of the book of Numbers
but also some form of Lev 11–15 and the Holiness Code alike. To be more
precise, there are several hints demonstrating that Num 5:1–4 is part of a
composition that has most parts of the books of Leviticus and Numbers in
its background. This may be called a late Priestly Pentateuchal composi-
tion, the final redaction, RP or the like. The argument can be further sub-
stantiated by some remarks on the compositional link between Lev 11–15
and Num 5:1–4.
Usually Num 5:2 is evaluated as an accentuation of Lev 15. Diachronically
this intensification is considered to be an argument for the relatively late
date of Num 5:1–4. Thus for example D. Kellermann: “Die verschärfende
Ergänzung der Bestimmungen von Lev 15 läßt den Schluß zu, daß Num

82 The reception of Num 19 in the Temple Scroll 11Q19 is aware of the close relation. For
this see Berlejung, “Variablität”, 301–2.
83 Lev 10 is closely related to Num 19; see Jürgens, Heiligkeit, 283. Note in addition the
use of ‫ קדש‬in Lev 10:3 and Num 20:13, which is regarded as putatively peculiar in both
cases. For the compositional link to Lev 22:32, see Achenbach, Vollendung, 316–17; Nihan,
Torah, 25, and below. Regarding Lev 10:10 see below.
84 The horizon of this concept of legislation goes beyond Sinai. Moses as revealing
agent, Aaron and Eleazar as cultic representatives and the orientation towards the (por-
table) sanctuary and its cult are more important in this late compositional stage than is
the fixation on Sinai as the preferred place of God’s revelation.
402 christian frevel

5,2 jünger als Lev 15 ist”.85 Very interesting in this regard is the concluding
admonition before the general subscript in Lev 15:32–33, in v. 31:

Thus you shall keep the people of Israel separate ‫והזרתם את־בני־ישראל‬
from their uncleanness, ‫מטמאתם‬
lest they die in their uncleanness ‫ולא ימתו בטמאתם‬
by defiling my tabernacle ‫בטמאם את־משכני‬
that is in their midst ‫אשר בתוכם‬

On the textual level, Moses and Aaron are addressed, as Lev 15:1–2a makes
clear. Thus the specific regulations of ch. 15 are framed by the exhortation
just before the chapter closes with the general subscript or colophon. The
focus is emphasized by the threefold use of ‫‘ טמאה‬uncleanness’. Verse
31 gives a rationale for the commandments of the whole chapter: The
uncleanness endangers the Israelites by polluting the sanctuary if it is not
removed. The defiled Israelites will die (‫ )ימתו‬because of the defilement of
his sanctuary.86 There is no explicit divine agency mentioned in the kill-
ing, but there can be no doubt that God is involved, as in Exod 28:35, 43;
30:20; Lev 10:2, 6, 7; 16:2, 13; Num 1:51; 3:4; 17:28; 18:22, etc. Jacob Milgrom
is right in pointing to the ‫כרת‬-formula in Num 19:13.87 Everyone who has
touched a corpse and who has not purified himself with the water for
impurity (‫( )מי נדה‬usually translated as ‘water of impurity’) shall be cut off
from Israel (‫ )ונכרתה הנפש ההוא מישראל‬because he has defiled the sanc-
tuary (‫)את־משכן יהוה טמא‬. Here in Lev 15:31 the danger of death concerns
all Israel, not only those who have failed to react to their pollution.
It is remarkable that the temporary and thus minor pollution from bodily
discharges also defiles the sanctuary, if it is not treated adequately. Purity
is a serious matter for the system of the Sinaitic world that is constituted
by the sanctuary and the divine presence. Therefore, Moses and Aaron
must separate the people from their uncleanness. The unusual H-stem of
the verb ‫ נזר‬in v. 31 is difficult to interpret. Following the Septuagint (καὶ
εὐλαβεῖς ποιήσετε), the Samaritan Pentateuch and the Peshitta, it is often

85 Kellermann, Priesterschrift, 163.

86 For the ‫ משכן‬with enclitic personal pronoun, the only other instance in the Torah
is Lev 26:11. Thus, Knohl, Sanctuary, 70, ascribes it to the Holiness School. Cf. Milgrom,
Leviticus 1–16, 946–47.
87 See Milgrom, Leviticus 1–16, 945–46.
 purity conceptions in the book of numbers in context 403

altered to the H-stem of ‫‘ זהר‬to admonish’.88 If one keeps the Masoretic

‫נזר‬, the most probable meaning is that the priest sets the people apart
from their uncleanness.89 This may be interpreted as the admonishing
function of the priests, as Jacob Milgrom has suggested:
We find that the imperative (dabbĕrû) in the plural, ostensibly addressed
to Moses and Aaron (v. 2), is actually aimed at the priests whose perpetual
function is to separate Israel from impurity (Lev 10:10; Saadiah), that is, to
teach the Israelites (10:11; Ezek 44:23) to abstain from impurity and to purify
them when it occurs lest they bring about the pollution of the Sanctuary.90
Although this is one possibility, the difference from Lev 10:10, where ‫בדל‬
in the H-stem means ‘to distinguish’, is striking. Thus, the other possibility
may be to separate the people (‫ )בני ישראל‬from the uncleanness amongst
them by dissociating the unclean persons. In both lines of interpretation,
Lev 15:31 is not so far away from Num 5:2.
Lev 15:31 is commonly considered an addition to the ‘priestly’ material
in Lev 15.91 This is further substantiated by the compositional function
of the verse. It is remarkable that the same structure of ‘relevant specifi-
cations—concluding admonition focusing on purity—subscript’ can be
found in the chapter on unclean animals, Lev 11. Lev 11:43–45 motivates
the Israelites just after the taxonomy, underlining the relation between
purity and holiness. The Israelites shall not make themselves abominable
(‫ אל־תשקצו‬v. 43)92 by the unclean animals93 (‫ולא תטמאו בהם ונטמתם‬
‫)בם‬. The rationale is the holiness of the Lord and his salvific deeds for
Israel. The twofold ‫ כי אני יהוה‬in vv. 44–45 is followed each time by the
exhortation ‫והייתם קדשים כי קדוש אני‬. There is little doubt that this
wording resembles H in Lev 20:25–26. Christophe Nihan has convincingly
argued that Lev 11:44–45 belongs to a larger framework:
The interpolation of v. 43–45 serves evidently to prepare for 20:25–26a,
where Israel’s holiness is also made dependent on observing the distinc-
tion between pure and impure animals. . . . Moreover . . . the reference to
11:43–45—and more generally, of course, to the tôrâ of Lev 11—in 20:22–26,

88 For introducing the object with the preposition ‫מן‬, see Ezek 33:8, 9.
89 Cf. Lev 22:2. Literally, Moses and Aaron are addressed, but notice the associative
realm of the priest and his duty in ‫ הכהן‬in Lev 15:30.
90 Milgrom, Leviticus 1–16, 945; cf. Nihan, Torah, 283.
91 See, e.g., Elliger, Leviticus, 196; Kellermann, Priesterschrift, 63; Nihan, Torah, 282–83,
and above, note 86.
92 ‫ שקץ‬was a “Leitwort” in Lev 11 in vv. 10, 11, 12, 13, 20, 23, 41, 42.
93 ‫ שרץ‬was addressed in vv. 29, 31, 41, 42 and stands pars pro toto for the whole
taxonomy.
404 christian frevel

the conclusion to the collection of Lev 18–20 (see the parallel with Lev 18:2–
5), builds a great inclusion around Lev 11–20. It identifies these chapters as
forming a distinct section on the purity of the community as a whole, since
the section immediately following, Lev 21–22, is primarily concerned with
the purity of the priests specifically.94
While there is a link between the motivation clauses of Lev 15:31 and Lev
11:43–45 regarding the analogous function, we must mention the link to
Lev 16:16 in relation to the content. Both verses are constrained by the
centripetal concept of the camp and both stress the existence of the sanc-
tuary in its midst as endangered by the impurities of the Israelites. In the
ritual of the ‘Day of Purification’, the sanctuary shall be cleansed from all
impurities of the Israelites (‫ וכפר על־הקדש מטמאת בני ישראל‬v. 16a) by
Aaron. “He shall do so for the tent of meeting, which remains with them
in the midst of their uncleannesses” (‫וכן יעשה לאהל מועד השכן אתם בתוך‬
‫ טמאתם‬v. 16b).95 As Jacob Milgrom has convincingly argued, the ritual in
Lev 16 addresses all kinds of pollutions of the sanctum, which have not
been dealt with in other rituals and which have accumulated during the
past year.96
Accordingly, the motive clause in Lev 15:31 has a double horizon: on
the one hand it closes Lev 11–15, and on the other hand it links them with
Lev 10 and Lev 16, as Nihan has argued:
It connects the legislation in Lev 11–15 with the episode of the death of
Aaron’s sons in Lev 10 and with the ceremony of ch. 16, where a similar
statement concerning Yahweh’s sanctuary residing ‘in the midst’ of Israel’s
impurities is found (see 16:16b). The request to ‘separate’ . . . ‘the Israelites
from their impurities’ makes perfect sense after 10:10–11.97
This concept parallels Num 5:1–4. Therefore, it seems probable diachron-
ically that Num 5:1–4 either presumes or parallels Lev 15:31, which should
be assigned “to the book’s final editor”.98
The bridging function of Num 5:1–4 within the book of Numbers is
further substantiated by the phrase ‫אני שכן בתוך‬, which appears almost
exactly in Num 35:34 and there only. Num 35:33–34 treats the pollution of
the land by bloodguilt and is the final purity topic in the book of Numbers!99

94 Nihan, Torah, 299.

95 Cf. Nihan, Torah, 96.
96 Milgrom, Studies, 75–84; Leviticus 1–16, 1033–34.
97 Nihan, Torah, 283.
98 Nihan, Torah, 283.
99 The conception of the defilement of the land is attested in the book of Numbers in
Num 35:34 only. But see Lev 18:25, 27; Deut 21:23; Josh 22:19; Jer 2:7; Ezek 36:17–18; Amos 7:17
(‫ ;)אדמה‬cf. further Ezra 9:11; Ps 106:38–39; Zech 13:2.
 purity conceptions in the book of numbers in context 405

The motivation in v. 34 is striking because it mentions the Lord living

in the land twice: “You shall not defile the land (‫ )ולא תטמא את־הארץ‬in
which you (plural!) live, in which I live (‫)אשר אני שכן בתוכה‬, for I the
Lord dwell among the Israelites (‫”)כי אני יהוה שכן בתוך בני ישראל‬. The
conception parallels the expansion of the required purity to the whole
living space in Num 5. Since Num 35 is related to the Israelites’ living
in the land, the pure ‘enclosure’ is consequently the whole land rather
than the camp of the Israelites.100
The ‫ כי אני יהוה‬motivation relates to the Holiness Code and especially
Exod 29:46, where the formula is connected with the living of the Lord as
well.101 Thus, there can be no doubt that Num 35:34 has a compositional
function in the Torah.102 By resuming Num 5:2 and the combination of
‫ טמא‬with the dwelling of the Lord, which is unique in the Torah,103 the
relation between the beginning and the end of purity issues in the book
of Numbers seems to be intentional.104
Hence, Num 5:1–4 is a late and very dense text that brings the final
composition and theology of the book of Leviticus into the concept of
the book of Numbers. The congregation is regarded as holy and therefore
must remain pure. With Num 5:1–4 the borders of purity and the bor-
ders of the holy enclosure are enlarged from the sanctuary to the whole
camp. This is comparable to the conception of the holy city in Ezra and
Nehemiah, where Jerusalem and the temple are identified by strengthen-
ing the outer borders.
In sum: Num 5:1–4 is a very late compositional bridge between the book
of Leviticus on the one hand and the book of Numbers on the other. It links
the purity conception of the book of Numbers with the final edition of the
book of Leviticus. It is probably to be dated in the late Persian period. This

100 In this respect one can agree with Seebass, who regards Num 35:33–34 as an indica-
tion “that the land Israel lived in was thought of as holy” (‘Holy’ Land, 99), although the
land is not explicitly addressed as holy.
101 Cf. Seebass, Numeri, 447.
102 See further the link to Gen 9:5–6.
103 The only other instances of the combination of ‫ שכן‬with ‫ טמא‬are Josh 22:19 and,
slightly differently, Ezek 43:7.
104 Whether the phrase ‫ אשר אני שכן בתוכה‬in Num 35:34 is a redactional intrusion
of the author of Num 5:1–4 or whether both should be attributed to the same hand at all
is difficult to decide because Num 35 is already a very late text as such. See Barmash, “The
Narrative Quandary”, 1–16, 7–8, for attributing v. 34 to H; More appropriately, Seebass,
Numeri, 436: “Man muß nicht einen Redaktor H bemühen, um 35,34 zu erklären, da 9–34
insgesamt wohl ein recht später Text ist”. Achenbach, Vollendung, 598, attributes v. 34 to
the first theocratic edition of the book of Numbers: “Das Prinzip Num 35,34 schließt die
Tora des ThB I ab”.
406 christian frevel

becomes clearer with the emphasis on the impurity of corpses, which is

also a major focus of Early Greek and Zoroastrian religion.105

2.7. Evaluating the ‘Intensified’ Purity Restrictions in Numbers 5:1–4

We have demonstrated above that Num 5:1–4 has picked up given purity
conceptions from Leviticus and Numbers in a dense and abbreviated man-
ner. The short phrases in Num 5:2 were incomprehensible without their
intertexts in Lev 11–15; 21; Num 19 and others in mind. The composition
was intended to constitute the congregation of all Israel as pure and holy.
Purity was displayed as the ‘regulative idea’ of the camp, its organization,
structure and form. The camp as the living place of this community was
configured to be pure. The pure camp created a segregated entity with
clear-cut outer borders. The text of Num 5:1–4 was created for this par-
ticular context in order to formulate a specific vision of the relation of the
whole congregation to the center. Its function was not to give justifiable,
individual commandments on purity issues in detail but to include a gen-
eral sketch of the given purity laws. From this angle it seems inappropri-
ate to compare the three single cases in detail with their hypotexts and to
weigh the differences as tensions.
The main and often-discussed singularity of Num 5:1–4 is the expulsion
of impure persons from the camp, which does not conform to Lev 11; 15
and Num 19 but which is in accordance with Lev 13–14: While the unclean
person with a discharge and the person who was defiled by a corpse do not
have to leave the camp, the person with ‫צרוע‬-skin disease does. It seems
that all the cases in Num 5:2 were subordinated under this legislation in
accordance with the concept of a camp that must avoid any defilement of
the sanctuary. The rationale can be found not in an intentional accentua-
tion of the laws of Lev 11 and Num 19 but rather in the general concept of
expanding the borders of holiness and purity to the whole camp. This con-
cept is developed from the composition of the Priestly texts in Exodus and
Leviticus, especially the Holiness Code, and has its parallels in Ezra and
Nehemiah: The camp and the sanctuary, which stand in for the temple
and the city, are conceptualized as a unity set apart clearly from the out-
side.106 Following the logic of the sanctuary in the midst of the congrega-

105 See Achenbach, Vollendung, 502–3; Achenbach, “Verunreinigung”, 364–66; Hutter,

“Impurity”, 15–20; Frevel, “Cadavres”.
106 See Olyan, “Purity Ideology”; Blenkinsopp, Judaism, 196–204.
 purity conceptions in the book of numbers in context 407

tion and the logic of the camp in Exod 29–Num 4, the segregating aspect
is intensified in Num 5:1–4.
Besides the issue of exclusion from the camp, it is often argued that the
case of defilement from a corpse, in particular, means an enhancement
if compared to Leviticus because there it is addressed to priests alone.
Thus it is argued that the book of Numbers expands regulations related to
priests to the whole community. On the one hand, this would be in line
with Ezra and Nehemiah and would fit the general tendency we have dis-
cussed, but it seems on the other hand to reveal a methodological short-
coming. The argument is valid only if we evaluate Leviticus and Numbers
as distinct textual units that function separately. According to this theory,
the book of Numbers is implicitly subordinated diachronically and the
legislation of the book of Leviticus is regarded as complete. But if one sees,
for example, the Priestly legislation on touching a dead person in Lev 21 as
due to the inner logic of the final composition of Leviticus, one need not
be astonished to find regulations for the whole congregation elsewhere.
The compositional considerations above, which have suggested a system-
atic alignment of purity issues in the Torah, point in another direction:
the intentional ordering of purity texts in the final stage of the Torah’s
composition. While the tendency of the argument may be correct, it is
not at all convincing to date Num 5; 6; 9; and 19 altogether later than
Lev 21:1–4. The development and “Fortschreibung” of Priestly texts must
be considered more complex than models of PG and PS or P and H suggest.
Any explanation has to take into account that the texts in Numbers are
obviously part of the Priestly legislation and are involved in the same edi-
torial processes. Thus we must be cautious with our general conclusions.
However, tentatively, the specific case of defilement by a corpse seems to
be a late topic in the development of the Torah, which was accentuated
especially in the book of Numbers.
In sum, we should be cautious in claiming an intensification of purity
concepts in the book of Numbers. Num 5:1–4 have their own intrinsic
logic and are not meant as mere expansions of the purity concepts of
Lev 11–26. In fact, they should be understood in a sense as embodying the
application of the regulations in Lev 11–26 and Num 6; 9 and 19. Before
deciding the issue in this way, however, we need further specification of
the hermeneutical principles of the Torah as text and law. As long as we
regard Num 5:1–4 as a conceptual hinge bridging Leviticus and Numbers,
we may see the regulations as text rather than as law.
408 christian frevel

3. Summary

This paper has shed light on purity conceptions in the book of Numbers.
It has demonstrated that purity is an important issue in the composition,
structure and concepts of Numbers, based on the spatial and centripetal
conception of the sanctuary and the camp. The opposition between the
life-giving center as constitutive of the whole system and the realm of
death as endangering the balance of cohabitation has gained special
importance in the book of Numbers. In the second part of the paper, Num
5:1–4 was shown to be a central purity text in the book of Numbers; it is
a late text deliberately composed to occupy its present position after the
constitution of the camp and as a prelude to Num 5–10 and (the accom-
plishment of ) the initiation of the Sinaitic cult before the departure from
the Sinai desert.107 The text has been shown to be clearly related to several
texts in the books of Leviticus and Numbers. It was seen to be part of the
constitution of the congregation on the one hand and a compositional
link between Leviticus and Numbers on the other. In Num 5:1–4 the camp
of Israel was conceptualized as a pure living-space steeped in the holiness
and presence of the living God in its midst. The three cases of skin disease,
bodily discharge and defilement by corpses are purposefully selected as
paradigmatic pollutions, and the system of exclusion is comprehensible
within the Priestly system of graded holiness. By defining the congregation
as holy and closely related to the center, the requirement of purity occurs
as a precondition for the cohabitation of the divine and the people.

Bibliography

Abusch, T. “Etemmu ‫”אטים‬. Pages 12–309 in vol. 1 of Dictionary of Deities and Demons in
the Bible. Rev. 2d ed. Edited by K. van der Toorn, B. Becking and P. W. van der Horst.
Leiden: Brill, 1999.
Achenbach, Reinhard. “Verunreinigung durch die Berührung Toter: Zum Ursprung einer
altisraelitischen Vorstellung”. Pages 347–69 in Tod und Jenseits im Alten Israel und in
seiner Umwelt: Theologische, religionsgeschichtliche, archäologische und ikonographische
Aspekte: Internationales und interdisziplinäres Symposion vom 16. bis zum 18. März 2007
an der Universität Leipzig. Forschungen zum Alten Testament 64. Edited by A. Berlejung
and B. Janowski. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2009.

107 Frevel, “Levitikus und Numeri”, 35–74.

 purity conceptions in the book of numbers in context 409

——. Die Vollendung der Tora: Studien zur Redaktionsgeschichte des Numeribuches im
Kontext von Hexateuch und Pentateuch. Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für Altorientalische und
Biblische Rechtsgeschichte 3. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 2003.
Ashley, Timothy R. The Book of Numbers. The New International Commentary on the Old
Testament. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1993.
Baentsch, Bruno. Exodus-Leviticus-Numeri. Handkommentar zum Alten Testament.
Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1903.
Barmash, Pamela. “The Narrative Quandary: Cases of Law in Literature” Vetus Testamentum
24 (2004): 1–16.
Berlejung, Angelika. “Variabilität und Konstanz eines Reinigungsrituals nach der
Berührung eines Toten in Num 19 und Qumran: Überlegungen zur Dynamik der
Ritualtransformation”. Theologische Zeitung: Basel 65,4 (2009): 289–331.
Blenkinsopp, Joseph, Judaism: The First Phase: The Place of Ezra and Nehemiah in the
Origins of Judaism. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2009.
Boyce, M. “Corpse”. No page. Cited 2 February 2011. Online: http://www.iranica.com/
articles/corpse-disposal-of-in-zoroastrianism.
Davies, Eryl Wynn. Numbers: Based on the Revised Standard Version. New Century Bible
Commentary 4. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1995.
Elliger, Karl. Leviticus. Handbuch zum Alten Testament 1,4. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck,
1966.
Frevel, Christian. “Cadavres, vaches rousses et eaux de purification—la mort dans Nb 19”.
In Les vivants et les morts. Orbis Biblicus et Orientalis. Edited by T. Römer. Fribourg:
Academic Press, forthcoming.
——. “ ‘. . . dann gehören die Leviten mir’: Anmerkungen zum Zusammenhang von Num 3;
8 und 18”. Pages 133–58 in Kulte, Priester, Rituale: Beiträge zu Kult und Kultkritik im Alten
Testament und Alten Orient: Festschrift für Theodor Seidl zum 65. Geburtstag. Arbeiten zu
Text und Sprache im Alten Testament 89. Edited by S. Ernst and M. Häusl. St. Ottilien:
EOS-Verlag, 2010.
——. “Die Frage nach dem Menschen: Biblische Anthropologie als Wissenschaftliche
Aufgabe—eine Standortbestimmung”. Pages 29–63 in Biblische Anthropologie: Neue
Einsichten aus dem Alten Testament. Quaestiones Disputatae 237. Edited by C. Frevel.
Freiburg: Herder, 2010.
——. “Leben”. Pages 295–98 in Handbuch theologischer Grundbegriffe zum Alten und Neuen
Testament. 2d ed. Edited by A. Berlejung and C. Frevel. Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche
Buchgesellschaft, 2009.
——, and Erich Zenger. “Die Bücher Levitikus und Numeri als Teile der Pentateuch-
komposition”. Pages 35–74 in The Books of Leviticus and Numbers. Bibliotheca
Ephemeridum Theologicarum Lovaniensium 215. Edited by T. C. Römer. Leuven:
Peeters, 2008.
——. “Das Buch Numeri”. Pages 212–301 in Stuttgarter Altes Testament. 3d ed. Edited by
E. Zenger. Stuttgart: Verlag Katholisches Bibelwerk, 2005.
Gane, Roy. “The Function of the Nazirite’s Concluding Purification Offering”. Pages 9–17 in
Perspectives on Purity and Purification in the Bible. Library of Hebrew Bible Old Testament
Studies 474. Edited by B. J. Schwartz, D. P. Wright, J. Stackert and N. S. Meshel. New
York: T & T Clark, 2008.
——. Review of J. Sklar, Sin, Impurity, Sacrifice, Atonement: The Priestly Conceptions. Review
of Biblical Literature 05 (2006).
Gilders, William K. “Blood as Purificant in Priestly Torah: What Do We Know and How Do
We Know It?” Pages 77–83 in Perspectives on Purity and Purification in the Bible. Library
of Hebrew Bible Old Testament Studies 474. Edited by B. J. Schwartz, D. P. Wright,
J. Stackert and N. S. Meshel. New York: T & T Clark, 2008.
410 christian frevel

Hieke, Thomas. “Die Unreinheit der Leiche nach der Tora”. Pages 43–65 in The Human
Body in Death and Resurrection. Deuterocanonical and Cognate Literature Yearbook
2009. Edited by T. Nicklas. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2009.
Hutter, Manfred. “The Impurity of the Corpse (nasā) and the Future Body (tan ī pasēn):
Death and Afterlife in Zoroastrianism”. Pages 13–26 in The Human Body in Death and
Resurrection. Deuterocanonical and Cognate Literature Yearbook 2009. Edited by
T. Nicklas. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2009.
Janowski, Bernd. Sühne als Heilsgeschehen: Studien zur Sühnetheologie der Priesterschrift
und zur Wurzel KPR im Alten Orient und im Alten Testament. Wissenschaftliche
Monographien zum Alten und Neuen Testament 55. 2d ed. Neukirchen-Vluyn:
Neukirchener Verlag, 2000.
Jürgens, Benedikt. Heiligkeit und Versöhnung: Leviticus 16 in seinem literarischen Kontext.
Herders Biblische Studien 28. Freiburg: Herder, 2001.
Kellermann, Diether. Die Priesterschrift von Numeri 1,1 bis 10,10: Literarkritisch und traditions-
geschichtlich untersucht. Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft
120. Berlin: de Gruyter, 1970.
Kiuchi, Nobuyoshi. A Study of Hata and Hatta’t in Leviticus 4–5. Forschungen zum Alten
Testament 2,2. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2003.
Knohl, Israel. The Sanctuary of Silence: The Priestly Torah and the Holiness School.
Minneapolis, Minn.: Fortress Press, 2007.
Kühn, Dagmar. Totengedenken bei den Nabatäern und im Alten Testament: Eine
Religionsgeschichtliche und exegetische Studie. Alter Orient und Altes Testament 311.
Münster: Ugarit-Verlag, 2005.
Lee, Won W. “The Conceptual Coherence of Numbers 5,1–10,10”. Pages 473–89 in The Books
of Leviticus and Numbers. Bibliotheca Ephemeridum Theologicarum Lovaniensium 215.
Edited by T. C. Römer and E. Zenger. Leuven: Peeters, 2008.
Lehnart, B. “Leiche/Leichenschändung”. No pages. Cited 2 February 2011. Online: http://
www.bibelwissenschaft.de.
Levine, Baruch A. Numbers 1–20: A New Translation. The Anchor Yale Bible Commentaries.
Yale: University Press, 1993.
Lewis, T. J. “Dead”. Pages 223–31 in vol. 1 of Dictionary of Deities and Demons in the Bible.
Rev. 2d ed. Edited by K. van der Toorn, B. Becking and P. W. van der Horst. Leiden:
Brill, 1999.
Loretz, Oswald. “Nekromantie und Totenevokation in Mesopotamien, Ugarit und Israel”.
Pages 285–318 in Religionsgeschichtliche Beziehungen zwischen Kleinasien, Nordsyrien
und dem Alten Testament: Internationales Symposion Hamburg 17.–21. März 1990. Edited
by B. Janowski. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1993.
Maccobi, Hyam. “The Corpse in the Tent”. Journal for the Study of Judaism in the Persian,
Hellenistic and Roman Period 28,2 (1997): 195–209.
Michel, Diethelm. “Næp̄ æš als Leichnam?” Zeitschrift für Althebraistik 7 (1994): 81–84.
Milgrom, Jacob. Leviticus 1–16: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary. The
Anchor Bible 3. New York: Doubleday, 1991.
——. Numbers: The Traditional Hebrew Text with the New JPS Translation. The JPS Torah
Commentary 4. Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society, 1990.
——. Studies in Cultic Theology and Terminology. Studies in Judaism in Late Antiquity 36.
Leiden: Brill, 1983.
——. “Two Kinds of ḤAṬṬʾT”. Pages 70–74: in Studies in Cultic Theology and Terminology.
Studies in Judaism in Late Antiquity 36. Leiden: Brill, 1983.
——. “Sin-Offering or Purification-Offering?” Vetus Testamentum 21 (1971): 237–39.
Nihan, Christophe. “Israel’s Festival Calendars in Leviticus 23, Numbers 28–29 and the
Formation of ‘Priestly’ Literature”. Pages 177–231 in The Books of Leviticus and Numbers.
Bibliotheca Ephemeridum Theologicarum Lovaniensium 215. Edited by T. C. Römer.
Leuven: Peeters, 2008.
 purity conceptions in the book of numbers in context 411

——. From Priestly Torah to Pentateuch: A Study in the Composition of the Book of Leviticus.
Forschungen zum Alten Testament 2,25. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2007.
Noam, Vered. “Corpse-Blood Impurity: A Lost Biblical Reading”. Journal of Biblical Literature
128,2 (2009): 243–51.
Noth, Martin. Numbers: A Commentary. Old Testament Library. Philadelphia: Westminster
Press, 2000.
Olyan, Saul M. “Purity Ideology in Ezra-Nehemiah as a Tool to Reconstitute the Community”.
Journal for the Study of Judaism 35 (2004): 1–16.
Pola, Thomas. Die ursprüngliche Priesterschrift: Beobachtungen zur Literarkritik und
Traditionsgeschichte von Pg. Wissenschaftliche Monographien zum Alten und Neuen
Testament 70. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlag, 1995.
Poorthuis, Marcel J. H. M., and Schwartz, Baruch J., eds. Purity and Holiness: The Heritage
of Leviticus. Jewish and Christian Perspectives Series 2. Leiden: Brill, 2000.
Rösel, Martin. “Die Geburt der Seele in der Übersetzung: Von der Hebräischen Näfäsch über
die Psyche der LXX zur deutschen Seele”. Pages 151–70 in Anthropologische Aufbrüche:
Alttestamentliche und interdisziplinäre Zugänge zur historischen Anthropologie.
Forschungen zur Religion und Literatur des Alten und Neuen Testaments 232. Edited
by A. Wagner. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2009.
——. “Der hebräische Mensch im griechischen Gewand: Anthropologische Akzentsetzungen
in der Septuaginta”. Pages 69–92 in Der Mensch im alten Israel: Neue Forschungen zur
alttestamentlichen Anthropologie. Herders Biblische Studien 59. Edited by B. Janowski
and K. Liess. Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlags-Haus, 2005.
Scharbert, Josef. Numeri. Die neue Echter-Bibel: Kommentar zum Alten Testament mit der
Einheitsübersetzung 27. Würzburg: Echter-Verlag, 1992.
Seebass, Horst. “ ‘Holy’ Land in the Old Testament: Numbers and Joshua”. Vetus
Testamentum 56,1 (2006): 92–104.
——. Numeri. Biblischer Kommentar Altes Testament 4. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener
Verlag, 2003–2007.
——. “‫”נפש‬. Pages 531–55 in vol. 5 of Theologisches Wörterbuch zum Alten Testament.
Edited by G. Botterweck, H. Ringgren and H. J. Fabry. 10 vols. Stuttgart: Kohlhammer,
1987.
Seidl, T. “‫”צרעת‬. Pages 469–75 in vol. 12 of Theological Dictionary of the Old Testament.
Edited by G. J. Botterweck and H. Ringgren. 15 vols. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans,
2003.
Staubli, Thomas. Die Bücher Levitikus, Numeri. Neuer Stuttgarter Kommentar: Altes
Testament 3. Stuttgart: Verlag Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1996.
Tropper, Josef. Nekromantie: Totenbefragung im Alten Orient und im Alten Testament. Alter
Orient und Altes Testament 223. Kevelaer: Butzon & Bercker, 1989.
Wolff, Hans Walter. Anthropologie des Alten Testaments. Kaiser-Taschenbücher 91. 5th ed.
Munich: Kaiser, 1990.
Wright, David P. “Purification from Corpse-Contamination in Numbers XXXI 19–24”. Vetus
Testamentum 35,2 (1985): 213–23.
 PURITY CONCEPTIONS IN DEUTERONOMY

Udo Rüterswörden

This paper consists of three parts. Part one works through the evidence
for purity and impurity in Deuteronomy; in part two I present a thesis by
M. Weinfeld; part three concerns the verification of this thesis along with
a few conclusions.

1. The Evidence in Deuteronomy

My treatment of the topic of purity is based upon a very simple distinc-

tion: the observation of purity can either have its roots in a conventional
type of behavior or it can constitute the conceptual pivot for the theology
of an author or an editor. Even if we do not grant ‘purity’ such a central
position in an author’s conceptual universe, we can assume that he would
nevertheless respect conventional concepts of purity during his participa-
tion in the cult.
The lexemes ‘pure’ and ‘impure’ occur as the word pair ‫הטמא והטהור‬
(‘the impure and the pure’) in Deut 12:15, 22; 15:22. All three cases are con-
cerned with the consumption of meat.
The two examples in Deut 12 are connected to the centralization of
the cult at the one place that Yahweh will choose for himself. Because
meat was usually eaten at sacrificial feasts, it would have been neces-
sary to travel to the central sanctuary in order to roast any joint of meat.
Deuteronomy makes logical provision for this in ch. 12 by introducing the
non-cultic slaughter of animals, also called ‘profane slaughter’. This kind
of slaughter does not require participants at the meal to be pure. In this
case, Deuteronomy is thinking analogically: the same rules of behavior are
required as for hunting—wild animals may be eaten but not sacrificed,
thus making them available for non-cultic consumption. The inner-Old
Testamental debate was sparked by precisely this point, namely, the ques-
tion of whether such an analogy could be made with sacrificial animals.
Deuteronomy answered in the affirmative with the phrase, “the unclean
and the clean may eat of it, as they would of gazelle or deer”. This formula-
tion occurs in all three examples, except that Deut 15:22 is not concerned
with profane slaughter in general but with a special regulation concerning
414 udo rüterswörden

the consumption of first-born cows and sheep that have a physical defect
and as such cannot be sacrificed.
This case, too, is concerned with profane slaughter, and as such the
purity regulations of the sacrificial cult do not need to be observed.
Now, the pair ‘the impure and the pure’ permits a number of logical
conclusions or relevant questions:
Are there events in which only the pure are allowed to take part, the
impure being barred? One might assume that only the pure would be
allowed to participate in the sacrificial cult, which has so many feasts. Yet
Deuteronomy does not say that. Does this have to do with its character
as a “mediated divine instruction to the laity”, as G. von Rad had it?1 Yet
even a layperson could have been given a tip or two about how a normal
Israelite ought to behave on cultic occasions. In this context, however,
this is assumed as conventional behavior, rather than something specifi-
cally prescribed.
The second question in relation to our pair ‘the impure and the pure’ is
connected to this: Are there animals that neither are allowed to eat? This
question is answered in Deut 14, which presents dietary regulations. The
prohibition to eat blood plays an important role in this context—animals
must be ritually slaughtered (Deut 12:16, 23ff.). What happens to animals
that have died before they could be ritually slaughtered? These may not
be eaten at all. Deut 14:21, however, brings another distinction into per-
spective: Foreigners may eat of them. This means that the concepts of
purity, as rudimentary as they appear when one reads between the lines
of Deuteronomy, are only for the members of Israel. We will return to
this point.
‘Purity’ as a characteristic of people also appears in the rules concern-
ing the military camp in which God is present. What consequences does
God’s presence have for an individual soldier? In 1901, Friedrich Schwally
formulated his answer in an extremely militaristic manner:
War is a continuation and intensification of the sacrificial cult. The camp,
in the midst of which was the sanctuary, or rather, the dwelling of the deity
(Num 5:3), was in general considered to be the location of this cult.2
This equation, in which war and cult correspond to each other, cannot
be applied to Deuteronomy: The sacrificial cult can only take place in the

1 Von Rad, “Deuteronomium–Studien”, 110.

2 Schwally, Der heilige Krieg, 59.
 purity conceptions in deuteronomy 415

central sanctuary, not outside on the (battle) field. If we take into account
those in Deut 20 who are exempted from military service, we come to
the conclusion that a military campaign is an event conceived for only
a few men of advanced years. Deut 20 has no place for the concept of
an unauthorized war of conquest and introduces a martial law in v. 19,
a prohibition against chopping down the enemy’s trees, which limits the
consequences of war. There is hardly a more pacifistic military law than
that of Deuteronomy. As a result, the concept of peace also occupies a
notable position (v. 11).
According to Deuteronomy, Israel’s military success is based not upon
its own strength but upon the fact that Yahweh is in its midst and fights
for it. His presence, however, is not of a cultic nature. The priests in Deut
20:2 appear in a passage with a plural addressee and as such do not belong
to the original body of the military law found there.
Yet even if God is present in a non-cultic manner, this presence still
requires purity on the part of the soldiers. What are the implications for
them?
The only case that is explicitly mentioned in relation to this is desig-
nated in Deut 23:11–12 with the discrete phrase ‫‘ מקרה־לילה‬an event in the
night’. The result of this event is that the soldier loses his purity and must
leave the camp. His original state may be restored by means of an evening
bath. This means that Deuteronomy knows precisely what the appropri-
ate measures are for dealing with impurity. A comparable regulation can
be found in Num 5:1–4, but the justification for the rule found there does
not occur in Deuteronomy: ‫ולא יטמאו את־מחניהם אשר אני שכן בתוכם‬.
The idea that a place or land can be made impure is alien to Deuteronomy;
humans and animals may be pure or impure, but not a place or a coun-
try. This is made clear as Deut 23:13ff. continues. The issue is the installa-
tion of toilets outside the military camp. Although ‫ מחנה‬can have a local
aspect (v. 13), it usually stands metonymically for the sum of the gathered
soldiers. The holiness of the camp is defined in terms of the status of
the soldiers, as v. 15 makes clear: ‫ולא־יראה בך ערות דבר‬.3 The use of ‫בך‬
makes clear that a collective is addressed. This means that improper
conduct or the nakedness of a soldier are to be avoided in God’s pres-
ence—one does not show one’s bottom to the Lord. It is striking that only

3 Houston’s comment that “it would appear that the holiness of the camp, if not of the
people themselves, is threatened by impurity” cannot, therefore, be sustained and so does
not speak against Weinfeld’s thesis. Cf. Houston, Purity and Monotheism, 225.
416 udo rüterswörden

Deuteronomy has such a regulation. According to the Priestly Document

and the Holiness Code, one’s normal metabolism cannot make one impure,
although Paschen draws our attention to the use of language:
In this way, the Deuteronomic text confirms that which is missing in the
Priestly tradition: Originally, excrement was not assigned to the area of
physically conditioned impurity, regardless of how one explains the mea-
sures prescribed in Deut 23:13f. It was presumably the Deuteronomic editor
who first expanded the concept of impurity, though it should be noted that
he does not apply impurity terminology to going to the toilet.4
In Deut 14:11 and 20 even birds that may be eaten are ‘pure’. Perhaps this is
an abbreviated phrase that can be clarified by comparing it to a contrast-
ing formulation. Thus, we find in Deut 14:7–8, 10, 19 the following phrase:
‫טמא הוא לכם‬. Impurity has a relational aspect; animals are impure in rela-
tion to Israel. This phrase appears similarly in Lev 11. If this categorization
of pure birds has been abbreviated, then we can imagine that the birds
are pure for ‘you’.
In the explanation in Deut 26:14, the Israelite who yields his tithe
says: ‫“ ולא־בערתי ממנו בטמא‬I have not removed any of it while I was
unclean”. According to the context, the issue is mourning, impurity and
the gift of a portion of the tithe to the dead. The thought here is of a burial
or of a cult of the dead in the broadest sense of the word, and talk of
impurity takes place in this environment. This means that this text from
Deuteronomy imagines that contact with death makes one unclean. Only
the person becomes impure, not an object or a place.
These examples from Deuteronomy are conventional in the sense that
they simply assume knowledge of purity and impurity, without specifi-
cally formulating laws concerning this matter. Purity is not the pivotal
concept of a theologically grounded idea.
Nevertheless, one can draw a number of conclusions from the terminol-
ogy, as Moshe Weinfeld first attempted to do.

2. The Thesis of Moshe Weinfeld

In his magisterial dissertation, which has impacted Deuteronomy research

up until this day, Weinfeld worked out the main differences in the con-
cepts of purity between Deuteronomy and a broadly conceived Priestly

4 Paschen, Rein und Unrein, 62.

 purity conceptions in deuteronomy 417

document.5 Like Kaufmann and in contrast to Wellhausen, Weinfeld

dated the core of the Priestly tradition before Deuteronomy. This means
that Deuteronomy re-coins Priestly concepts in a thoroughly demytholo-
gizing and secularizing manner.6 The problems in dating that arise with
this hypothesis will not be treated here but will be left to further endeavor
within this field of research. However, distinctions certainly ought to be
made between the concept of purity in Deuteronomy and that of another
block of tradition, summarily designated the ‘Tetrateuch’, although it
consists of the Priestly Document, Holiness Code, and secondary Priestly
material, etc.
a) Innocent blood does not pollute the land; rather it redounds upon
the nation.7 In Deut 21:1–9 a murdered corpse is discovered; the perpe-
trator is unknown. Since blood has been shed, the deed must be expi-
ated. This is because the blood will be accounted to the people in the
vicinity. Thus reads v. 8: ‫ואל־תתן דם נקי בקרב עמך ישראל ונכפר להם הדם‬
“Do not let the guilt of innocent blood remain in the midst of your people
Israel. Then they will be absolved of bloodguilt”. The law in the Tetrateuch
concerning the cities of asylum also takes the shedding of blood into
account, though here there is a different conception:8 The blood is not
charged to the inhabitants but rather pollutes the land (Num 35:33–34):
You shall not pollute (‫ חנף‬Hi.) the land in which you live; for blood pollutes
(‫ חנף‬Hi.) the land, and no expiation can be made for the land, for the blood
that is shed in it, except by the blood of the one who shed it. You shall not
defile (‫ טמא‬Pi.) the land in which you live, in which I also dwell; for I the
Lord dwell among the Israelites.
The construction ‘to defile the land’ is formulated with ‫ טמא‬in the
Holiness Code, in Lev 18:25, 27–28, as well as in Josh 22:19 and Jer 2:7;
and with ‫ אדמה‬in Deut 21:23; Ezek 36:17; cf. Amos 7:17.9 The evidence in
the book of Jeremiah is worth looking at in more detail. There we find
‫“ ותבאו ותטמאו את־ארצי ונחלתי שמתם לתועבה‬But when you entered
you defiled my land, and made my heritage an abomination” (Jer 2:7).

5 Weinfeld, Deuteronomy. Regev has taken up and pursued Weinfeld’s observations in

his “Priestly Dynamic Holiness”, 243–61.
6 Cf. the paragraph entitled “Demythologization and Secularization” in Weinfeld, Deu-
teronomy, 225–26.
7 Weinfeld, Deuteronomy, 225–26.
8 It seems questionable to me whether one can draw on Num 35:33 in order to explain
Deut 17:8–13. See also Hagedorn, “Deut 17,8–13”, 543.
9 For the biblical evidence, see Paschen, Rein und Unrein, 36.
418 udo rüterswörden

According to S. Hermann, behind Jer 2:5–7 lies “an ‘historical picture’ just
like the one which Deuteronomy or the Deuteronomist knew and which
this tradition knew how to make use of in diverse ways”.10 This may be
true for the picture as a whole, but it is not so for the individual brush-
strokes. The idea that the land can be polluted is not Deuteronomic. The
connection between pollution and abomination (‫ )תועבה‬is an interesting
one, also witnessed to in the Holiness Code (Lev 18:27). In Deuteronomy,
strikingly, one may not eat ‘that which is abominable’ (14:3), a formula-
tion that is not compatible with the usual use of this lexeme.11 What we
have here is substitution; in Deuteronomy, ‫ תועבה‬stands for something
that is otherwise designated with ‘impure’, without ‫ תועבה‬and impurity
being essentially identical. ‫ תועבה‬probably marks a cultural difference
that appears at the point where we would otherwise expect a ritual one.
According to Lev 18:28, the consequence of polluting the land is that
its inhabitants can be spewed out. This means that the land can exert
a destructive force against its inhabitants.12 We may compare this idea
with the one found in Lev 26:34–35, 43 and 2 Chr 36:21, where the dura-
tion of the exile is determined by the time needed for the land to make
up for its unobserved Sabbaths. In Deuteronomy the land does not have
this autonomous power. One distinction between the two reports of the
spies in Num 13–14 and Deut 1:19–46 is that in Num 13:32, the land about
to be conquered is ‫“ ארץ אכלת יושביה הוא‬a land that devours its inhabit-
ants”. Deuteronomy does not include this remark. This may well be due to
the extremely complex development of the text, in which one must take
account of editorial re-working. However, it must still be pointed out that
such an idea is not found within Deuteronomy, neither has it accrued to
the text through re-working.
Let us summarize point a): In Deuteronomy, bloodguilt does not pollute
the land, but rather threatens people. This idea is probably not intended
to refute any specific Tetrateuchal concept. This is because the idea that
a land can either be or become impure is also found in the prophetic lit-
erature: Amos 7:17; Jer 2:7; Ezek 36:17. The dating of these verses and their
relation to the Pentateuch can naturally still be debated. Nevertheless, it
seems to me that the idea that a land can become impure is not limited to

10 Herrmann, Jeremia, 122.

11 Cf. Nihan, Priestly Torah, 334.
12 Cf. Nihan, Priestly Torah, 559–62.
 purity conceptions in deuteronomy 419

the Holiness Code. As such, Deuteronomy is not thinking differently from

the Tetrateuch alone but from a more widespread idea.
b) The chapter in Deuteronomy in which purity concepts are most con-
centrated is Deut 14, with its rules concerning clean and unclean animals
and the permissibility of their consumption.13 The explanation for such
rules is found in v. 21 (cf. v. 2): ‫“ כי עם קדוש אתה ליהוה אלהיך‬For you are
a people holy to Yahweh your God”. In Deut 7:6, this phrase tells us why
Israel must keep itself distinct from the previous inhabitants of the land as
well as destroy their sanctuaries. Here, ‘holiness’ is conceived differently
than in the Tetrateuch:
Holiness in the Priestly view is a condition that can be secured only by con-
stant physical purification and sanctification, whereas in Deuteronomy it is
the effect of a unique act of God—the divine election of Israel—and thus
devolves automatically upon every Israelite, who consequently must not
profane it by defilement. The Priestly document conceives holiness to be
contingent upon physical proximity to the divine presence and the preser-
vation of that proximity through ritual means.14
It is especially remarkable that, in addition to this, in Deuteronomy the
category ‘holy’ is only applied to the people and not to Yahweh, not even
to his sanctuary.15 As a consequence, Deuteronomy abolishes the dis-
tinction between priestly purity and the purity that every Israelite must
observe. For example, according to Lev 22:8 a priest may eat no ‫נבלה‬
‫וטרפה‬, because by doing so he would make himself impure (‫)טמא‬. In con-
trast to this, according to Lev 11:39–40, a layperson may eat the ‫ נבלה‬of
large dead animals. The resultant impurity can be removed by washing.16
Deuteronomy does not follow this distinction between priestly and gen-
eral purity: according to Deut 14:21, everyone is forbidden to eat ‫נבלה‬.
The Israelites are allowed to sell ‫ נבלה‬to the foreigner (‫ )גר‬who is living
within their gates. In this context, it is completely irrelevant whether the
foreigner purifies himself or not. He is not obliged to maintain the kind
of purity expected from the ‫עם קדוש‬, eloquently described by Weinfeld as
noblesse oblige. Even the land does not become impure if a foreigner who

13 See also Rüterswörden, Das Buch Deuteronomium, 90–94; Houston, Purity and Mono-
theism, passim; and “Dietary Laws of Leviticus”, 142–61; Venter, “The Dietary Regulations”,
1240–62; Moskala, “Categorization and Evaluation”, 5–41; Milgrom, “Ethics and Ritual”,
159–91.
14 Weinfeld, Deuteronomy, 226ff. Cf. Fishbane, Biblical Interpretation, 121–22.
15 Houston, Purity and Monotheism, 225; see also L’Hour, “L’impur et le Saint”, 38–40.
16 For the following context, see Ego, “Reinheit und Schöpfung”, 131–44.
420 udo rüterswörden

is dwelling within it eats meat that has not been ritually slaughtered and
that thus still contains blood.
Lev 17:15, part of the Holiness Code, differs. According to this text, even
the foreigner must respect the purity laws. Whoever belongs to ‫בית ישראל‬
or is associated with it as a foreigner (Lev 17:8–9)17 must respect not only
cult centralization, which is very radically conceived here, but also the
blood taboo. In complete contrast to Deuteronomy, what matters here is
where one lives and not membership in the chosen people.18
In addition to this, it is worth looking at Exod 22:30: “you shall be a
people consecrated (‫ )אנשי קדש‬to me; therefore you shall not eat any
meat that is mangled by beasts in the field; you shall throw it to the dogs”.
This verse is editorial and does not belong to the old layer of the Book
of the Covenant.19 With regard to the ‫ טרפה‬it is radical: no one at all is
allowed to eat it—it is dog food.20

3. Verification and Conclusions

E. Otto titled one of his essays on Deuteronomy “Social Responsibility and

the Purity of the Land”. This leads to the question of whether Weinfeld’s
assumption is verifiable. The title of Otto’s essay does, after all, imply that
Deuteronomy shares the idea that the land itself can be pure.
Otto’s observations are concerned first of all with Deut 22:
In Deut 22:1–12 demands for social responsibility (Deut 22:1–4, 6–7) are
bound together with prohibitions of illicit mixtures (Deut 22:5, 9–11). . . . Just
like bloodguilt, prohibited mixtures make the land impure. In this manner
Deut 22:8 connects the list with the previous blood laws (Deut 19:10).21
However, in the prohibitions concerning illicit mixtures there is no
explicit talk of impurity. At best one could mention ‫ תועבה‬in v. 5, a con-
cept similar to that of impurity but not identical with it. We will come
back to this.

17 See Nihan, Priestly Torah, 415–16.

18 Milgrom, “Ethics and Ritual”, 182.
19 Otto, Wandel der Rechtsbegründungen, 60.
20 For the issue in general, see Sparks, “Biblical ‫ נבלה‬Laws”, 594–600; also Ethnicity
and Identity, 238–45.
21 Otto, “Soziale Verantwortung”, 134–35.
 purity conceptions in deuteronomy 421

Closer to the heart of the matter is the reference in Deut 22:8:

When you build a new house, you shall make a parapet for your roof, that
you may not bring the guilt of blood upon your house, if anyone should fall
from it.
Yet the phrase ‫ ולא תשים דמים בביתך‬does not contain the terminology of
‘pure’ or ‘impure’, nor does it refer to the pollution of the land. According
to the two other places where the formula ‫ שים דמים‬is used (Judg 9:24 and
1 Kgs 2:5), the bloodguilt is laid on people and not the land.
This also applies to Deut 22:8, where ‫ בית‬in the second half of the verse
means ‘family’, as M. Rose has rightly pointed out: “both communal space
and community in their entirety incur guilt”.22 Bloodguilt burdens people,
not the land.
The land is in view in Deut 24:4 and 21:22–23. In Deut 24:1–4 a man is
forbidden to remarry a women whom he had divorced and who had then
married another man. Verse 4 gives us the reason:
For that is an abomination before the Lord. And you shall not bring sin
upon the land that the Lord your God is giving you for an inheritance.
Two observations may be made:

a) It is the woman and not the land that is made impure (‫ טמא‬hotp.)—
for whatever reason that may be.23
b) The land is understood in the context of the phrase ‫ולא תחטיא את‬
‫הארץ‬. The Hiphil of ‫ חטא‬means ‘to lead into sin, to seduce someone
to sin’.24 The word naturally tends to have a personal object; for the
material object in Deut 24:4, Gesenius18 suggests ‘to make something
guilty’.25 The other place where the word is found with this meaning
is Qoh 5:5. There we read: ‫אל־תתן את־פיך לחטיא את־בשרך‬. The Zurich
Bible translates: “Don’t let your mouth bring you into sin”, thus leaving
‫ בשר‬untranslated. This is reasonable, as here ‫ בשר‬stands metonymi-
cally for the person.

22 Rose, 5. Mose, 275.

23 “The text is notable because it uses the word ‘impurity’ in a relative sense. The com-
parable prohibitions on marriage in P do not know of an impurity which only applies to a
specific person”. Paschen, Rein und Unrein, 36.
24 Gesenius, Hebräisches Handwörterbuch, 339.
25 See fn. 23.
422 udo rüterswörden

The same logic must be applied to ‫ ארץ‬in Deut 24:4. This is confirmed
by the usual meaning of ‫ חטא‬Hiph., especially in the phrase ‫ואשר החטיא‬
‫ את ישראל‬in 1 Kgs 14:16; 15:26, 30, 34; 16:2, 13, 19, 26; 21:22; 22:25; 2 Kgs 3:3;
10:29, 31; 13:2, 6, 11; 14:24; 15:9, 18, 24, 28; 23:15; with Judah: 2 Kgs 21:11, 16; Jer
32:35. This means that in this phrase, the words ‘Israel’ or ‘Judah’ can be
substituted for ‫ארץ‬, which is to say that what is in view is not the topo-
graphical reality but a political, territorial unit, one that stands metonymi-
cally for the people who inhabit it. Evidence for such a use of the word in
Deuteronomy appears in 15:7, 11; 24:14. In Deut 24:4, it is not the land that
is made guilty, but the people.26
It is only the second piece of evidence which has already been men-
tioned, Deut 21:22–23, that is finally capable of bearing out Otto’s thesis
concerning the pollution of the land:
And if a man has committed a crime punishable by death and he is put to
death, and you hang him on a tree, his body shall not remain all night on
the tree, but you shall bury him the same day, for a hanged man is cursed
by God. You shall not defile your land that the Lord your God is giving you
for an inheritance.
Here we really do have the structure ‫לא תטמא את אדמתך‬, which is not
very common (cf. Ezek 36:17 and Amos 7:17).
Verse 23, however, has two motivations, which has always attracted
attention. Thus, G. Seitz says:
Whereas the explanation ‘for a hanged man is cursed by God’ perhaps
belongs to the pre-Yahwistic layer of the law, the prohibitive: ‘You shall not
defile your land that the Lord your God is giving you for an inheritance’
(v. 23b) ought to be seen as a later motivation, one which belongs to the
same level as 24:4b.27
The idea that a corpse can pollute is widely held, e.g. Ezek 43:7 (‫ )פגר‬and
Num 19. A corpse does not, however, pollute the land.
We may recognize within the regulation an original formula that was
consistently written in the third person and a secondary layer that opts
for an address in the second person singular. It is not possible to securely
date the age of this secondary layer. Given that the additions offer a form
of address in the singular, they may well be pre-exilic.

26 This is different in Jer 3:1.

27 Seitz, Redaktionsgeschichtliche Studien, 127–28.
 purity conceptions in deuteronomy 423

We would therefore have here a case in which a more ancient ver-

sion without a form of address was paranetically re-formed. In this pro-
cess, perhaps, a conventional idea was introduced that was nevertheless
incompatible with the total context of Deuteronomy. A dogmatic unity
has not been achieved. Nevertheless, despite this one contradictory exam-
ple, Weinfeld’s observations have proved to be durable in central areas.
According to Weinfeld, the Tetrateuch is concerned with achiev-
ing the status of holiness through the observation of ideas of purity; in
Deuteronomy the opposite is the case: the nation is a holy nation and as
such—noblesse oblige—strains to be pure.28
The concept of a holy nation is not unique to Deuteronomy,29 as
Weinfeld tends to think:
It is not accidental, then, that the concept of a ‘holy people’ that predomi-
nates in the theological system of Deuteronomy is completely absent in ear-
lier Biblical sources.30
According to Weinfeld, the Priestly document is also one of these pre-
Deuteronomic sources. Yet, one ought to take into account not only Exod
19:631 but especially the common phrase found in the Holiness Code:
‫( קדשים תהיו כי קדוש אני יהוה אלהיכם‬Lev 19:2), as well as other formu-
lae constructed with derivatives of the root ‫קדש‬. ‘Holiness’ is a char-
acteristic of God that the nation ought to strive to acquire. In contrast
to Deuteronomy, however, there is no reference to the covenant. Apart
from a marginal appearance in Lev 24:8, the term ‫ ברית‬is concentrated in
Lev 26. This is to be expected in a chapter of curses that concludes the
Sinai laws and thus also the Sinai covenant.32 In the Priestly Document,
however, the covenant at Sinai does not play a significant role. The reasons
for this are well-known,33 yet it also creates a problem: ethics cannot be
grounded in the obligations that arise from the covenant. Covenant theol-
ogy is not totally foreign to the Holiness Code.34 Nevertheless, purity and

28 Weinfeld, Deuteronomy, 229–30.

29 For a criticism and differentiation of Weinfeld’s position, see Knohl, Sanctuary, 183,
fn. 43.
30 Weinfeld, Deuteronomy, 227–28.
31 Cf. Weinfeld, Deuteronomy, 226–27.
32 See Nihan, Priestly Torah, 541–43; 551–52.
33 See Knohl, Sanctuary, 143–52. Concerning Knohl’s distinction between P and H, see
Kugler, “Purity and Society”, 3–27.
34 Knohl, Sanctuary, 173–74; Lohfink, “Abänderung der Theologie”, 157–68.
424 udo rüterswörden

holiness concepts do appear there, at least partially, as an argument.35 We

encounter purity as an ethical category in Greece in the 5th Century.36
In Lev 18 ‘impurity’ is the reason why certain sexual practices are for-
bidden, whereby in v. 26 the ‫ גר‬is included in the prohibition, as otherwise
the land would be polluted. Deuteronomy, too, rejects certain practices,
amongst them being a transvestite, although the prohibition in 22:5 does
not necessarily have a sexual connotation. This rejection is, however, no
more due to holiness or purity than is the prohibition of prostitution in
23:18–19. The succinct and ungrounded statement in Deut 23:1 comes
closest to the prohibitions of sexual relations with relatives in Lev 18.
One context in the Tetrateuch in which purity concepts play a significant
role is that of leprosy. This also appears in Deuteronomy, in Deut 24:8,
without the term ‘purity’ being mentioned. The relevant regulations in
Deuteronomy are integrated into the Deuteronomic law and thus belong
to covenantal obligations. The behavior demanded does not require
any further justification by using, for example, the keywords ‘purity’ or
‘holiness’.
Further explanations in the cases first mentioned above are evoked with
the term ‫( תועבה‬Deut 12:31; 13:14; 14:3; 17:1, 4; 18:9, 12; 20:18; 22:5; 23:19; 24:4;
25:16), as compared to ‫( נבלה‬Deut 22:1). The term appears in the context
of rituals in 17:1, which could suggest a proximity to concepts of purity.
In addition to this we have the prohibition mentioned above, namely,
against eating ‫( תועבה‬14:3), whereby one could just as well replace the
word with ‫—טמא‬though it would not be necessary, as in Deuteronomy
‫ תועבה‬is not conflated with ‘impurity’.37
Nevertheless, ‫ תועבה‬has the same consequences and the same charac-
teristics as impurity in the Tetrateuch. This is a kind of conceptual switch
in Deuteronomy, one that can be observed in both dimensions:
a) The Consequences. According to Deut 12:31, the ‫ תועבה‬of the previ-
ous inhabitants of the land consisted in the fact that they burnt their chil-
dren. This is part of a system of statements that reaches as far as 2 Kgs 17.
According to Deut 18:12, the ‫ תועבה‬of the previous inhabitants led to the
loss of their land—and this is how the threat comes about that commit-
ting this kind of ‫ תועבה‬will lead to the Israelites’ loss of the land. This

35 “HS expands the realm of holiness. In its view, the concept of holiness also encom-
passes the realm of social justice. Holiness thus includes all areas of life and applies to the
entire community of Israel and the land they inhabit”. Knohl, Sanctuary, 180.
36 See here Chaniotis, “Reinheit des Körpers”, 150.
37 Compare Regev, Holiness, 248–50.
 purity conceptions in deuteronomy 425

makes the ‫ תועבה‬in the argument similar to the concept of impurity in

the Tetrateuch—remember Lev 18:27–28:
(for the inhabitants of the land, who were before you, committed all of these
abominations, and the land became defiled); otherwise the land will vomit
you out for defiling it, as it vomited out the nation that was before you.
Here, too, we have the term ‫תועבה‬, except that here an additional ele-
ment appears with the mention of pollution of the land. Deuteronomy is
simply content with ‫תועבה‬.
b) The Characteristics. Impurity can contaminate and spread out. Here
as well we may make reference to Weinfeld: “P’s over-all conception is
that impurity is a kind of a palpable substance that spreads from object
to object by physical contact”.38
In a similar way ‘wickedness’ in Deut 13 can spread out. Here wick-
edness is conceived of not as a substance but rather as a characteristic
of human action. Yet the text is concerned not only with action but
with a chain of actions, as v. 12 makes clear with its use of the verb ‫יסף‬.
The temptation to apostatize from Yahweh, expressed with the phrase
‫נלכה אחרי אלהים אחרים‬, will be disseminated amongst and affect the
public.39 It is, in other words, an activity that can spread out. The apos-
tasy and purity concepts in the Tetrateuch share this contamination and
dissemination model. This becomes particularly clear when we observe
an important detail in Deut 13:6: ‫ובערת הרע מקרבך‬. The formulae that
otherwise appear in conjunction with this formula in Deuteronomy can
be found in concentrated form in Deut 13, so that all three cases in this
chapter should be addressed as ‫בערת‬-laws.40
How does one hinder contamination with or dissemination of evil?
By elimination or disposal. The verb ‫ בער‬itself does not occur in the
Tetrateuch, though the Hiphil of ‫ נזר‬appears in Lev 15:31: “Thus you shall
keep the people of Israel separate from their uncleanness, so that they do
not die in their uncleanness . . .”. The characteristic verb that differentiates
impurity from purity is ‫( בדל‬Lev 10:10; 11:47; 20:25; 22:26).
Perhaps this conceptual switch will enable us to clarify one of the most
difficult problems in Deuteronomy research: the sequence of Deut 12 and
13. Whereas Deut 12 is concerned with the centralization of the cult, ch. 13

38 Weinfeld, Deuteronomy, 225; see also Paschen, Rein und Unrein, 52.
39 At least in vv. 3 and 14; although the seduction in v. 7 occurs in secret, it is still a
dissemination of apostasy from Yahweh.
40 See the overview of the formulae by Seitz, Deuteronomium, 131ff.
426 udo rüterswörden

starts a new topic by bringing up the prohibition against worshipping

other gods. Deut 13 makes no mention of cult centralization, so that, in
terms of content, the chapter stands out from its context in chs. 12–19. Is
there a logic in the subject matter that can explain the sequence?
Perhaps it makes sense to have a look at the Tetrateuch and the Holiness
Code in their entirety. Within the structure of the Tetrateuch, the comple-
tion of the tabernacle is followed by the first sacrifice in Lev 1ff. Aaron’s
first sacrifice in Lev 9 is followed—after a small interruption in ch. 10—by
the regulations concerning pure and impure animals in ch. 11. The issue of
‘purity’ is then continued in the following chapters.
The establishment of the sacrificial site offers the appropriate point for
treating the issue of ‘purity’. This observation also applies to the Holiness
Code. The law concerning the altar and sacrifices in Lev 17 is followed in
ch. 18 by regulations dealing with the issue of ‘purity’.
In light of this, the right and proper place for a discussion of ‘purity and
impurity’ would be after the commandment concerning cult centraliza-
tion in Deut 12. Here, Deuteronomy is talking about something that has
the characteristics and consequences of impurity: worship of other gods.
The word ‫ תועבה‬in 12:31 and 13:15 offers us a term that is close to that
of impurity, but which is not identical with it. When we look at other
regulations from the perspective of the cult, Deuteronomy holds that the
worst offense that can be committed is apostasy from God, not a life of
impurity.
This, then, is the reason for the sequence Deut 12–13, which substitutes
a discussion of purity and impurity with a discussion of apostasy from
Yahweh. No cultic offense can be as significant as that of breaking the
covenant. Cultic purity comes into effect in Deut 14 in the form of food
laws, whereby Deut 14:3 takes up the term ‫ תועבה‬from Deut 13:15. This
reference41 connects Deut 13 with the following context.
The differences between Deuteronomy and the Tetrateuch in reference
to their conceptions of purity and impurity may be summarized in the
following manner:
a) Philosophically: whereas the Tetrateuch thinks in terms of sub-
stances,42 Deuteronomy privileges properties. Purity and impurity are
qualities,43 preferably of people or in relation to people, and not substances.

41 See Rüterswörden, Deuteronomium, 84, 93.

42 “[Bodily impurity], like the impurity of animals, may appropriately be characterized
as objective-impersonal”. Paschen, Rein und Unrein, 56; see also fn. 2.
43 “Holiness is not an independent entity; one may even go further and claim that it is
only a quality”. Regev, Holiness, 255.
 purity conceptions in deuteronomy 427

This also applies to the concept of ‘wickedness’, which in Deuteronomy

qualifies human activity and is not personified. A classic example of this
way of thinking is the regulation concerning the tithe in Deut 14:22–23,
which the farmer sells at home in order to buy the requisite provisions for
his sacrifice at the sanctuary. This means that fruit and produce do not
have, in and of themselves, any particular holiness. Supplements in the
text have even extended this idea to the firstborn.
b) Theologically: Deuteronomy thinks in terms of the category of cov-
enant: holiness is a characteristic of the elected nation, which then—
noblesse oblige—actualizes purity. This applies only to those who stand
within the covenant, not to those outside. The Tetrateuch, in contrast,
thinks territorially: in order for the land not to be polluted, even foreign-
ers have to observe certain rules.

Bibliography

Chaniotis, Angelos. “Reinheit des Körpers–Reinheit des Sinnes in den griechischen

Kultgesetzen”. Pages 142–79 in Schuld, Gewissen und Person. Studien zum Verstehen
fremder Religionen 9. Edited by J. Assmann and T. Sundermeier. Gütersloh: Gütersloher
Verlags-Haus, 1997.
Ego, Beate. “Reinheit und Schöpfung: Zur Begründung der Speisegebote im Buch Leviticus”.
Zeitschrift für Altorientalische und Biblische Rechtsgeschichte 3 (1997): 131–44.
Fishbane, Michael A. Biblical Interpretation in Ancient Israel. Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 1985.
Gesenius, Wilhelm. Hebräisches und aramäisches Handwörterbuch über das Alte Testament.
Berlin: Springer-Verlag, 1995.
Hagedorn, Anselm C. “Deut 17,8–13: Procedure for Cases of Pollution?” Zeitschrift für die
alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 115,4 (2003): 538–56.
Herrmann, Siegfried. Jeremia: Der Prophet und das Buch. Biblischer Kommentar Altes
Testament 12,2. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlagsgesellschaft, 1990.
Houston, Walter. “Towards an Integrated Reading of the Dietary Laws of Leviticus”. Pages
142–61 in The Book of Leviticus: Composition and Reception. Edited by R. Rendtorff and
R. A. Kugler. Leiden: Brill, 2003.
——. Purity and Monotheism: Clean and Unclean Animals in Biblical Law. Journal for the
Study of the Old Testament: Supplement Series 140. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press,
1993.
Knohl, Israel. The Sanctuary of Silence: The Priestly Torah and the Holiness School.
Minneapolis, Minn.: Fortress Press, 1995.
Kugler, Robert A. “Holiness, Purity, the Body, and Society”. Journal for the Study of the Old
Testament 76 (1997): 3–27.
L’Hour, Jean. “L’impur et le saint dans le Premier Testament à partir du livre du Lévitique:
Partie II: Le saint et sa rencontre avec l’impur et le pur”. Zeitschrift für die Alttestamentliche
Wissenschaft 116,1 (2004): 33–54.
Lohfink, Norbert. “Die Abänderung der Theologie des priesterlichen Geschichtswerks im
Segen des Heiligkeitsgesetzes”. Pages 157–68 in Studien zum Pentateuch. Stuttgarter
Biblische Aufsatzbände 4. Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1988.
Milgrom, Jacob. “Ethics and Ritual: The Foundations of the Biblical Dietary Laws”. Pages
159–91 in Religion and Law: Biblical-Judaic and Islamic Perspectives. Edited by E. B.
Firmage. Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1990.
428 udo rüterswörden

Moskala, Jirí. “Categorization and Evaluation of Different Kinds of Interpretation of the

Laws of Clean and Unclean Animals in Leviticus 11”. Biblical Research 46 (2001): 5–41.
Nihan, Christophe. From Priestly Torah to Pentateuch: A Study in the Composition of the Book
of Leviticus. Forschungen zum Alten Testament 2,25. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2007.
Otto, Eckart. “Soziale Verantwortung und Reinheit des Landes: Zur Redaktion der kasu-
istischen Rechtssätze in Deuteronomium 19–25”. Pages 123–38 in Kontinuum und
Proprium: Studien zur Sozial- und Rechtsgeschichte des Alten Orients und des Alten
Testaments. Orientalia Biblica et Christiana 8. Wiesbaden: Otto Harrassowitz, 1996.
——. Wandel der Rechtsbegründungen in der Gesellschaftsgeschichte des Antiken Israel:
Eine Rechtsgeschichte des ‘Bundesbuches’ Ex XX, 22–XXIII, 13. Studia Biblica 3. Leiden:
Brill, 1988.
Paschen, Wilfried. Rein und Unrein: Untersuchung zur biblischen Wortgeschichte. Studien
zum Alten und Neuen Testament 24. Munich: Kösel-Verlag, 1970.
Rad, Gerhard von. “Deuteronomium–Studien”, Pages 109–53 in G. von Rad, Gesammelte
Studien zum Alten Testament vol 2. Theologische Bücherei 48. Munich: Kaiser, 1973.
Regev, Eyal. “Priestly Dynamic Holiness and Deuteronomic Static Holiness”. Vetus
Testamentum 51,2 (2001): 243–61.
Rose, Martin. 5. Mose: 1. Teilband: Einführung und Gesetze. Züricher Bibel Kommentar Altes
Testament 5.1. Zürich: Theologischer Verlag Zurich, 1994.
Rüterswörden, Udo. Das Buch Deuteronomium. Neuer Stuttgarter Kommentar Altes
Testament 4. Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 2006.
Schwally, Friedrich. Semitische Kriegsaltertümer: Erstes Heft: Der Heilige Krieg im Alten
Israel. Leipzig: Dieterich’sche Verlagsbuchhandlung, 1901.
Seitz, Gottfried. Redaktionsgeschichtliche Studien zum Deuteronomium. Beiträge zur
Wissenschaft vom Alten und Neuen Testament 93. Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1971.
Sparks, Kenton L. “A Comparative Study of the Biblical ‫ נבלה‬Laws”. Zeitschrift für die
Alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 110,4 (1998): 594–600.
——. Ethnicity and Identity in Ancient Israel. Prolegomena to the Study of Ethnic Sentiments
and Their Expression in the Hebrew Bible. Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 1998.
Venter, Pieter M. “The Dietary Regulations of Deuteronomy within Its Literary Context”.
Harvard Theological Studies 58 (2002): 1240–62.
Weinfeld, Moshe. Deuteronomy and the Deuteronomic School. Oxford: Clarendon Press,
1972.
 THE SYSTEM OF HOLINESS IN EZEKIEL’S VISION OF THE
NEW TEMPLE (EZEK 40–48)

Michael Konkel

1. The ‘Priestly Prophet’

Ezekiel is called the ‘priestly prophet’.1 This designation refers not only
to his lineage from a priestly family2 but also to the theology of the book
that bears his name, whose theological thinking is focused on the temple,
its sanctity and purity. The composition of the book rests upon the two
temple-visions: the first one (Ezek 8–11) depicts the defilement of the tem-
ple in Jerusalem, which prompts YHWH to abandon his dwelling-place
and leave it to be judged. The second one (Ezek 40–48), in turn, sketches
a detailed picture of a new temple, which is cleansed and protected from
defilement.
However, the label ‘priestly’ comprises yet another feature: The book of
Ezekiel contains some intriguing parallels in language and phraseology to
the so-called Priestly source in the Pentateuch. Nevertheless, the relation-
ship of Ezekiel to P is a matter of dispute: scholarship after Wellhausen,
which assumes an exilic-postexilic origin of P, usually sees Ezekiel as a pre-
decessor of P (see, e.g., the comprehensive commentary of W. Zimmerli).3
In contrast, the Kaufmann school, which argues for a preexilic dating of P,
makes Ezekiel the creative recipient of P (e.g., M. Greenberg, D. I. Block).
Finally, recent research has added a third option: An exilic-postexilic date
of P is assumed, but at the same time the final shape of Ezekiel is classified
as post-P by dating the book in the postexilic era.4
However, the question of the relationship between Ezekiel and P con-
sists of more than just determining the direction of literary dependency. If
two texts use the same language and phraseology, this by no means implies
that they share the same theology. Therefore with regard to holiness and

1 E.g. Zimmerli, Ezekiel, 345.

2 It is not known if Ezekiel himself was a consecrated priest, as is often suggested, or if
Ezek 1:2 only refers to his father. Regarding the biographical details of Ezekiel, see Konkel,
“Prophet ohne Eigenschaften”.
3 Recently, e.g., Sedlmeier, Ezechiel; cf. Hossfeld, “Ezechiel”, 505, who calls Ezekiel “the
father of priestly theology” (“Vater der priesterlichen Theologie”).
4 E.g. Pohlmann, Hesekiel; Schöpflin, Theologie als Biographie; Klein, Schriftauslegung.
430 michael konkel

purity, the question has to be raised whether the concept in Ezekiel is in

accordance with its parallels in P or whether we can determine different
concepts of ‘priestly theology’. I would like to follow this path by ana-
lyzing the concept of holiness as it is found in the second temple vision
(Ezek 40–48). Even though the passages that reveal a close relationship to
priestly language and theology cover the book of Ezekiel as a whole, only
in Ezek 40–48 can we identify an elaborate system of holiness that can be
compared with its parallels in the Pentateuch.
Surprisingly, this system has not gained wide attention in recent
research.5 Most studies concentrate on redaction-critical issues but leave
the question of the underlying theological system aside.6 Unfortunately,
M. Greenberg was not able to complete his commentary during his life-
time, and his analysis of Ezek 40–48 is missing.7 Ezek 40–48 should there-
fore be the starting point for further research.
For this endeavor, we shall focus on Ezek 40–48 as it is found in the
Masoretic Text. Nevertheless, it must be stated that this composition went
through a redactional process stretching from the exile to the late Persian
period and perhaps even into Hellenistic times.8 The so-called ‘holistic
approach’ does not deny the existence of a redactional process per se (cf.,
e.g., the commentaries of M. Greenberg and D. I. Block) but claims to
assign this process to the historical prophet himself. Ezekiel is seen as the
editor of the book in its present shape. However, this not only reduces
the complexity of problems that come to light in an in-depth study of
the text, it also sets the book of Ezekiel apart from the literature of the
Ancient Near East. The literary integrity of a pre-Hellenistic book with an
overall length of 48 chapters would be the exception, rather than the rule,
and has to be demonstrated properly. However, as will be shown below,
the composition as a whole cannot be dated to exilic times. Rather, it
mirrors a debate that was prominent in the Persian period, and therefore,
the book of Ezekiel is an important witness for the history of the religion
of Israel in the exilic and postexilic periods.

5 Regarding the current state of research, see Pohlmann, Ezechiel.

6 Stevenson, Vision, is the exception to the rule, but at the same time this study lim-
its itself by suspending redaction-critical issues and presupposing an exilic date for Ezek
40–48. The study of Levenson, Theology, analyzes the tradition history of Ezek 40–48 but
does not describe the implied specific system of holiness.
7 Greenberg, “Program”, is merely a sketch, and meanwhile is nearly thirty years old.
8 For a detailed synchronic and diachronic analysis of Ezek 40–48, see Konkel, Archi-
tektonik (cf. Rudnig, Heilig und profan). A commentary on Ezek 38–48 by the author in the
series Herders Theologischer Kommentar zum Alten Testament is currently being written
and will be published in 2014.
 the system of holiness in ezekiel’s vision of the new temple 431

2. The New Temple (Ezek 40–42)

The general outline of Ezek 40–48 can be described as follows:

A 40:1–42:20 The new temple

B 43:1–12 The return of YHWH’s glory
C 43:13–46:24 The laws and audiences of the temple
B‘ 47:1–12 The spring emanating from the temple
A‘ 47:13–48:35 The new allotment of the land

What we can observe is a linear structure woven into a concentric one.

A line leads from the description of the temple to the description of the
land from the inside to the outside. At the same time, the corpus of laws
marks the center of the whole composition.
Let us first concentrate on the description of the temple. The sanctuary
is located in the center of the land, right in the middle of an area (25,000 ×
25,000 cubits)9 surrounded by the tribes of Israel (see fig. 1). The basic ele-
ment of the architecture is the square (see fig. 2). The temenos covers an
area of 500 × 500 cubits (Ezek 42:20) and is enclosed by a wall, which mea-
sures six cubits in width and height (40:5). In the middle of the northern,
southern and eastern sides are massive gateways, which follow the design
of so-called six-chambered-gates (cf. 40:6–27). Every gateway measures 50 ×
25 cubits. A stairway of seven steps leads to the vestibule.
The gateways lead to the outer court, which is surrounded by chambers
(40:7–8). The exact measurements and number of these chambers is not
mentioned. In the four corners of the outer court are the kitchens for the
preparation of the sacrificial meals of the people (46:21–24).10 The exact
measurements of these kitchens are likewise not defined.
The inner court, measuring 100 × 100 cubits, with the altar in its midst,
marks the center of the temenos (40:47). It is also entered by three gate-
ways in the north, east and south (40:28–37). They follow the same pat-
tern as the gateways leading to the outer court, except for the difference
that the vestibule faces the outer court and thereby mirrors the vestibules
of the outer court. Eight steps lead to the vestibule of each gateway. So the
inner court is on a noticeably higher level than the outer court. In the area
of the inner northern gate are the facilities for slaughtering the sacrificial
animals (40:38–43).

9 Presumably the royal cubit of 0.52 m is required.

10 Ezek 46:19–24 was added later and integrated into the corpus of cultic laws (43:13–
46:24). See Konkel, Architektonik, 234–43.
432 michael konkel

Fig. 1. The Holy Portion of the Land.

The temple building is located at the western side of the inner court
(40:48–41:4). Designed as a long room with vestibule (20 × 1211 cubits),
main hall (20 × 40 cubits) and cella (20 × 20 cubits), it corresponds to
the temple of Solomon (cf. 1 Kgs 6). Even the inside measurements are
identical, except for the vestibule, which differs slightly (20 × 10 cubits
in the temple of Solomon). Like the temple of Solomon, the building is
surrounded by three-story auxiliary structures divided into chambers
(41:5–15a; cf. 1 Kgs 6:5–10). From the outside the whole building measures
100 × 50 cubits (41:13). There is one minor but nevertheless significant
difference: In the temple of Ezekiel, a wall two cubits deep separates the
main hall and the cella (41:3). This wall has no counterpart in the temple
of Solomon.12 We will return to this later.

11 So according to LXX. MT reads “11 cubits”, which does not fit the system and can eas-
ily be explained as a scribal error.
12 Regarding the temple of Solomon, see Zwickel, Tempel; Keel, Jerusalem, 264–337.
 the system of holiness in ezekiel’s vision of the new temple 433

Fig. 2. The New Temple.

The area west of the temple building is separated by the so-called ‫בנין‬
‘structure’ (41:12). Even though the measurements of its walls are men-
tioned, its function remains unclear. North and south of this structure
are the sacristies of the priests, where the holy portions of the offerings
are prepared (46:19–20) and the priests change their garments (42:13–
14). The sacristies can only be entered by ‘Heiligkeitsschleusen’,13 as
W. Zimmerli named them: These are passageways that run from the ves-
tibules of the northern or southern gates of the inner court straight to the
sacristies (42:1–12). All in all we have a restricted, most-sacred area that
only priests are allowed to enter (see below) measuring 100 × 300 or
200 × 350 cubits, respectively.

13 Zimmerli, Ezechiel, 1064.

434 michael konkel

As noted above, the basic element of the architecture is the square. Yet
it is possible to be even more specific regarding the structural principle
of this layout. W. Zimmerli suggested that the dimensions of the plan are
based on the figures 25, 50 and their multiples, whereas E. Vogt identified
the figure 100 as the reference point of all measurements.14 But one should
take into account that the guidance of the prophet aims at measuring the
holy of holies (cf. 41:4), so that the 20 × 20 cubits of the cella are indeed
the structural principle of the whole temenos: Multiplying the floor space
of the cella by 25 yields the 100 × 100 cubits of the inner court. Multiplying
this again by 25 leads to the 500 × 500 cubits of the temenos. Just as the
crossing of a Romanesque church generates its outline, the spatial dimen-
sions of the holy of holies generate the temenos of Ezekiel’s temple.
So we have a complex mixture of restoration and innovation: The struc-
ture of the first temple is preserved and at the same time integrated into
a new system of graded holiness. Whereas in preexilic times temple and
palace constitute one unit, now the palace has vanished (cf. 43:7–9).
Generally it is assumed that Ezek 40–42 is based on a blueprint that
was transformed into literature.15 But closer scrutiny of the measurements
that are mentioned in the text reveals two things: first, the design is clearly
three-dimensional. There are two explicit measurements of height in 40:5
(outer wall of the temenos) and 41:8 (fundament of the temple building).
Furthermore, there is a deliberate distinction of vertical layers: seven steps
lead to the outer court, eight steps to the inner court, and ten steps to the
temple building (25 steps altogether!). So there is a horizontal and vertical
distinction of three areas of holiness: the outer court, the inner court and
finally the temple building itself.
A second observation can be made: Even though mostly horizontal
dimensions are mentioned, it is not possible to reconstruct a complete
floor plan because some necessary measurements for drawing such a plan
are missing.16 In my opinion this is deliberate. The focus is on the distinc-
tion of separate areas of holiness (cf. 42:20). Only the horizontal and verti-
cal dimensions that serve this end are mentioned. Everything is focused
on the architectural separation of the temple building and especially the
holy of holies. A ring of walls, whose depth measures 15 cubits in total
(ca. 7.9 m), shields the main hall and the cella. This also explains why

14 Zimmerli, Ezechiel, 993; Vogt, Untersuchungen, 140–44.

15 E.g. Zimmerli, Ezechiel, 1240.
16 Our fig. 2 takes this into account. The common reconstructions do not distinguish
between dimensions that are mentioned in the text and dimensions that are conjectural.
 the system of holiness in ezekiel’s vision of the new temple 435

the cella is separated from the main hall by a wall, which has no parallel
in the temple of Solomon. In fact, we can observe a systematic narrow-
ing of the entranceways from the entrance of the vestibule of the temple
(14 cubits), via the entrance of the main hall (10 cubits), to the entrance
of the holy of holies (six cubits). The entire architecture of the temenos
serves to guard the temple building, especially the holy of holies. This is
why the overall height of the temple building is not measured: it plays no
role in this system, whereas the height of the outer wall of the temenos
does. Ezek 40–42 is not the transformation of a blueprint into literature
but the strict verbalization of a theological program: “to discern between
the holy and the profane” (Ezek 42:20).

3. The Structure of the Cultic Laws (Ezek 43:13–46:24)

Let us now turn to the body of cultic laws that marks the center of the
composition of Ezek 40–48. The corpus shows clear indications of a redac-
tional process.17 At first glance, a structure is hard to find. But there is a
long speech of YHWH from 44:4 to 46:18, which should be the starting
point for reconstructing the structure of the corpus:

a 44:6–31 Levites and Zadokites

b 45:1–8 The holy portion from the land
a‘ 45:9–46:18 The prince and the people

The center of this speech is marked by an excerpt on the reapportionment

of the land in 47:13–48:29. It focuses on the holy portion in the center of
the land with the temple in its midst. The description of the center of the

17 Regarding a detailed redaction-critical study of Ezek 40–48, see Konkel, Architektonik.

Three layers can be discerned: the basic layer comprises the description of the temple and
the return of YHWH’s glory (Ezek 40:1–43:10*) and can be dated to the exilic period. Shortly
after the exile, chapters 47–48, with the utopian view of the new land, were added. Finally,
in the late Persian period, the corpus of cultic laws (43:13–46:24*) was added, and the com-
position achieved its present shape. Probably in the Hellenistic period Ezek 42:16–19 was
added. The verses should not be corrected according to LXX. If we take MT literally, these
verses mention a third court that measures 500 × 500 rods (= 3000 × 3000 cubits). The
same design with a temenos consisting of three courts is to be found in the Temple Scroll.
However, this single addition should not be labeled a ‘redaction’. A different approach is
proposed by Rudnig, Heilig und profan, who discerns various layers. Nevertheless, there is
a consensus on various points, especially regarding the late postexilic date of Ezek 44–46*
(see Konkel, Gola). A postexilic date for Ezek 40–48 is also favored by Tuell, Ezekiel; cf.
Tuell, Law of the Temple.
436 michael konkel

land marks the core of the long speech of YHWH and at the same time the
midst of Ezek 40–48 as a whole. It is flanked by two blocks that each start
with a ‘Scheltrede’ (44:6–8 and 45:9–10). The first block (44:4–31) is about
the cultic tasks of the Levites and the Zadokite priests, and the second
block (45:9–46:18) focuses on the social and cultic tasks of the prince.
This long speech of YHWH is framed by two texts that are designed as
guidance for the prophet: 44:1–3 prescribes the permanent closing of the
outer gate and the sacrificial meal of the prince, and 46:19–24 describes
the kitchens for boiling the sacrificial meals of the priests and the people. The
two texts can be subsumed under the topic ‘consumption of sacrifices’.
Finally, an altar law opens the whole corpus (43:13–27), as is common
in the law codes of the Pentateuch (cf. Exod 20:22–26; Lev 17; Deut 12). To
sum up, we can reconstruct a concentric structure in Ezek 43:13–46:24,
with an altar law at the top:

a 43:13–27 The altar

b 44:1–3 The closing of the eastern gate and the sacrificial
meal of the prince
c 44:4–31 The cultic tasks of Levites and Zadokite priests
d 45:1–8 The holy portion from the land
c‘ 45:9–46:18 The social and cultic tasks of the prince
b‘ 46:19–24 The kitchens and the sacrificial meals of the priests
and the people

Due to the restricted space of this paper, I will concentrate on 44:4–31,

which describes the cultic tasks of the Levites and Zadokites.

4. Controlling Access to the Sacred: The Exclusion of

the Foreigner and the Cultic Tasks of Levites and Zadokites
(Ezek 44:4–16)

Ezek 44:4–31 can be divided into two subsections (vv. 4–16 and vv. 17–31).
The structure of the first one can be described as follows:

44:4–6a Introduction: Controlling access to the holy

44:6–9 Indictment of Israel (‘Scheltrede’)—The exclusion of the foreigner
44:10–16 The cultic tasks of Levites and Zadokite priests

Verses 4–6a function as an introduction for 44:4–46:18 together, so that it

is a kind of instruction for reading the corpus of laws as a whole:
 the system of holiness in ezekiel’s vision of the new temple 437

4 Then he brought me through the north gate to the front of the temple. I
looked and look, the glory of YHWH filled the temple of YHWH. Then I fell
down on my face. 5 YHWH said to me: ‘Human, pay attention! Look closely
and listen carefully to everything I have to say to you regarding all the ordi-
nances concerning the temple of YHWH and regarding all its instructions.
Pay attention to the access to the temple at all exits of the sanctuary!18 6 You
shall say to the stiff-necked, the house of Israel . . .
This speech of YHWH is modeled according to 40:4. Not the architecture
of the new temple but the ‘ordinances of the temple’ and ‘its instructions’
(cf. 43:11) are now the object of the prophet’s attention. Verse 5 specifies
that this is controlling access to the temple. Whereas Ezek 40–42 showed
the new design of the temple with its strict separation of different areas of
holiness, Ezek 44–46 now defines who is allowed to enter the sacred pre-
cinct. The corpus of laws is addressed not just to the cultic personnel but
rather to Israel as a whole. As in the call of the prophet, it is called ‘stiff-
necked’ (cf. 2:7–8). Obviously Israel has not left its ‘stiff-necked’ nature
behind in the time of salvation.
The interpretation of the following is still controversial. There are some
text-critical issues, the text seems to be redundant, and at a first glance
the line of argumentation is hard to apprehend. We will try to propose
a new interpretation that attempts to solve some of the issues that are
debated in current scholarship.
Although the details of the following verses may be a subject in need
of further discussion, the following can be said: The ‘stiff-necked’ Israel
is accused of having granted foreigners, ‘uncircumcised by flesh and by
heart’, access to the sacred precinct (44:7). This resulted in the desecration
of the temple. It is not clear whether this implies the direct involvement
of foreigners in the cult at the altar of burnt offerings (44:8). However, the
consequence is by all means clear: foreigners are strictly banned from the
sacred precinct (44:9), namely, the sacred area of 500 × 500 cubits.
Then the text moves on to the topic of the cultic tasks of the Levites,
who are mentioned here for the first time in Ezekiel. The Levites are
granted access to the sacred precinct, and they are assigned to minister as
gatekeepers and to slaughter the sacrificial animals (44:10–11).

18 This is an exact translation of MT, which takes ‫ מבוא‬as a collective singular (cf.
Ezek 11:6) and renders the preposition ‫ ב‬as ‘together with’ (cf. Exod 8:1, 13; Josh 22:8;
Jer 11:19). There is no need for modifying MT, as is usually done (e.g. Block, Ezekiel 25–48, 618,
et al.).
438 michael konkel

At first sight it is not clear how this connects to the preceding verses.
Scholars often try to link the accusations mentioned in Ezek 44:6–11 with
data from the preexilic period. Candidates for the foreigners are the
Gibeonites (cf. Josh 9:21–27), the Nethinim, the ‘temple-slaves’ of Solomon
(cf. Ezra 2:43–58), or finally the Carians, members of the royal guard, who
originally came from Asia minor (cf. 2 Kgs 11:4–8). But linking the story
of the Gibeonites with Ezek 44 is idle speculation, and the non-Israelite
origin of the Nethinim is only assumed. D. I. Block opts for the Carians
as foreigners in the context of Ezek 44: this “hypothesis finds support in
v. 11 in Ezekiel’s appointment of the Levites as ‘armed guards’ (pequddôt)
to replace these foreigners”.19 However, this is merely a chain of associa-
tions. The text does not link the charge to the Levites to act as gatekeepers
with an office that foreigners have held in the past. Ezek 44:11 does not aim
to appoint the Levites instead of the foreigners as gatekeepers. Rather, the
Levites are responsible for guarding the entrances to the sacred precinct,
to guarantee the observance of the prohibition of 44:9. In this way Ezek
44:10–11 is clearly linked to 44:6–9.
Generally it is assumed that Ezek 44:11 assigns the Levites the task of
slaughtering the sacrifices, that is, instead of having the people do it.20 If
this is right, v. 11 would be in direct conflict not only with the Pentateuch
but also with the practice of the Second Temple, where the layperson
was responsible for slaughtering the animal.21 Ezek 44:11 would claim to
restrict a task to the Levites that was permitted for every Israelite. This is
one of the key arguments for classifying Ezek 40–48 as a vision of an exilic
utopia that could not gain any effect either in the Pentateuch or in the
cultic practice of the Second Temple.
But we may question whether this interpretation is compelling. It is
not necessary to translate the term ‫ לעם‬as ‘for the people’. It is likewise
possible to understand it as a genitive (e.g. Ezek 11:23; 45:8; 47:1) expressed
with the preposition ‫ל‬, referring to ‫ עולה‬and to ‫זבח‬.22 So Ezek 44:11 does
not mean that the Levites slaughter the offerings in lieu of the people,
but rather that the Levites slaughter the ‘burnt offerings and sacrifices of
the people’, i.e. the public offerings. This is the way they ‘minister’ to the
people, as 44:11 states, by representing the people in the case of a pub-

19 Block, Ezekiel 25–48, 623; for the first time, probably, Skinner, Ezekiel, 330.
20 E.g. Zimmerli, Ezechiel, 1127, and many others.
21 Cf. Lev 1:5, 11; 3:2, 8, 13; 4:4, 15, 24, 29, 33; 17:3–4; Josephus, Antiquitates judaicae 227;
m. Zevaḥim 3:1; m. Kelim 1:8.
22 Cf. Jüon, Grammar, §130c.
 the system of holiness in ezekiel’s vision of the new temple 439

lic offering. Slaughter of the public sacrifices by the Levites was common
in the Second Temple period.23 So Ezek 44:11 is not in conflict with the
Torah, where a special ritual for public offerings is missing; rather, it mir-
rors a practice that was common in the Second Temple period. There is
no hint that Ezek 40–48 bans laypeople from slaughtering their personal
offerings. Accordingly, Ezek 40:38–43 describes the facilities for slaugh-
tering the sacrificial animals in the area of the inner northern gate. Two
installations are distinguished: one on the level of the outer court and
the other one on the level of the inner court. The first one was accessible
for every pure Israelite. Thus there is a difference between an area for
slaughtering the offerings of the laypersons and an area for slaughtering
the offerings of the priests.
The cultic service at the altar of burnt offerings within the inner court
is restricted to the Zadokite priests (44:15). They are the ‘guardians of the
altar’ and are identified with the ‘Levitical priests’ who figure prominently
in Deuteronomy.24 Furthermore, v. 16 states that “they are the ones who
shall have access to my table”. What does this mean? Synchronically, the
‘table’ must be linked with the ‘table’ inside the temple building, which
is mentioned in 41:21–22. But these verses seem to be a late insertion into
a text (41:15b–27) that itself is secondary.25 Accordingly, it cannot be pre-
supposed that Ezek 44:16 originally referred to 41:21–22. Some scholars
relate this to the table of shewbread (cf. Exod 25:23–30); this assumption
seems unlikely, however, because Ezek 40–42 does not mention it. The
other option is to relate the ‘table’ to the altar of burnt offerings, but then
Ezek 44:16 would be the only reference in the Old Testament that calls
the altar of burnt offerings ‘table’. However, there is another option: that
‘table’ refers to the most holy portions of the offerings that belong to the
priests (cf. 44:28–31). The priests are invited to the ‘table of YHWH’, i.e., to
the sacrificial meals. Ezek 39:20 and Mal 1:7 can be perceived as parallels.
If we add the information given in 46:1–12, we can reconstruct a threefold
hierarchy that is linked to the separate areas of holiness within the sacred
precinct: uncircumcised foreigners have no access to the sacred square of
500 × 500 cubits. Laypersons as well as the Levites have access to the outer
court, whereas only the Zadokite priests may enter the inner court.

23 Cf. 2 Chr 30:17; 35:6, 11 and 11Q19 col. 22:4 (cf. 11Q18 frg. 30).
24 Cf. Deut 17:9, 18; 18:1; 24:8; 27:9; see Dahmen, Leviten und Priester.
25 Konkel, Architektonik, 59–62.
440 michael konkel

Such a strict separation of different areas of holiness has no parallel in

the Pentateuch but mirrors a development that took place in the period
of the Second Temple. I do not think that the issues Ezek 44 deals with
can be explained with preexilic data. The xenophobia that is expressed in
Ezek 44 has its nearest parallels in the postexilic era. The ‘stranger’ is the
topic par excellence in the period of the Second Temple (cf. Neh 13:30–31).
As will be shown, Ezek 44 presupposes a considerable quantity of tradi-
tion, if not an edition of the Pentateuch that already included the priestly
and non-priestly texts. Ezek 44:4–46:18 seems to be a later insertion from
the Persian period. Therefore, Ezek 40–48 cannot simply be seen as a
utopian exilic design for the postexilic era, which had no effect in Persian
times. Rather, Ezek 40–48 in its current shape has to be read as a Zadokite
critique aiming at the cultic practice of the Second Temple in Jerusalem.
But how does this concept relate to the Pentateuch, especially P?
Surprisingly, in the Pentateuch there is no specific law regulating access to
the sacred precinct. Nowhere in P is the layperson banned from entering
the tent of meeting. Deut 23:2–9 forbids foreigners to enter the ‘assembly’
(‫ )קהל‬of YHWH—but it gives no answer as to how this relates to the sacred
precinct, in particular to different courts within the temenos. So it seems
that the Pentateuch leaves space for different interpretations of a question
that was the subject of discussion in the Second Temple period. Once again,
it cannot be said that Ezek 44:9 is in conflict with the Torah.26 Rather, this
verse can be understood as a strict interpretation of Deut 23.27
However, how does the monopolistic claim of the Zadokites suit the
theory of an Aaronide priesthood as it is outlined in P? It seems that at
last in this regard there is a direct conflict with the Torah. In P, Eleazar
and Ithamar, the sons of Aaron, represent two priestly classes. As the late
Chronistic genealogies show, the priests at the temple in Jerusalem traced
their line back to these two sons of Aaron.28 Thereby, Zadok was con-
sidered to be a descendant of Eleazar, and so it is generally assumed that
the Zadokites were Eleazarides (cf. 1 Chr 5:27–41; 6:35–38).29 In contrast,
Ezek 44 restricts the priesthood strictly to the Zadokites/Eleazarides.

26 Cf. b. Yoma 71b, where it is stated that the banning of foreigners had been part of the
Oral Law from the time of Moses and was committed to writing by Ezekiel.
27 Cf. Neh 13:1–9, where the expulsion of Tobiah from the sacred precinct is introduced
with a reference to Deut 23.
28 The standard reference regarding the history of Israelite priesthood is still Gunneweg,
Leviten und Priester; cf. Cody, History. Regarding the Zadokites, see Rooke, Zadok’s Heirs.
29 Therefore it makes no sense to postulate a conflict between ‘Aaronides’ and
‘Zadokites’, as for example Rudnig, Heilig und profan, does. In the late Persian period, the
 the system of holiness in ezekiel’s vision of the new temple 441

Surprisingly, Jewish tradition does not state that the Zadokite claims
are in conflict with the Torah.30 In my opinion this is deliberate. A closer
look at Phinehas, the son of Eleazar, may provide the missing link: Num 25
gives the account of the Baal Peor incident. There, Phinehas acts as the
savior of Israel by killing an Israelite man together with his Midianite
wife. The text mirrors the problem of intermarriage as it was discussed in
Persian times. Phinehas represents a radical position in this regard, which
is rewarded by an ‘everlasting covenant’:
10 Then YHWH spoke to Moses: 11 Phinehas, the son of Eleazar, the son of
Aaron the priest, has held back my wrath from against the Israelite people
by zealously enacting my zeal in their midst, so that I did not annihilate
the Israelite people in my [wrathful] zeal. 12 Say, therefore: I hereby grant
to him my covenant of fellowship. 13 To him and his descendants after him
this shall endure as a covenant of everlasting priesthood. It is in return for
his having acted zealously on behalf of his God, through which he secured
expiation for the Israelite people.31
Usually this is taken as referring to the office of the high priest (cf. Sir 25:23–
25), because the high priests in the Persian period were Zadokites.32 But
the text itself does not say this. Rather, the covenant with Phinehas only
mentions the right to serve as priests in general. However, the phras-
ing provides room for interpretation. The monopolistic claims of the
Zadokites in Ezek 44:15 can therefore be understood as an exclusive inter-
pretation of the covenant with Phinehas: Even though the Pentateuch
knows two priestly classes,33 only the Eleazarides have the privilege of
an eternal priesthood. The Levitical Ithamarides can potentially lose their
right to serve as priests, and Ezek 44 blames them for having done so.
While Num 25 simply grants the Eleazarides/Zadokites eternal priesthood,
Ezek 44 interprets this as an exclusive right of priesthood.
To sum up, Ezek 44 perfectly fits the system of graded holiness as it
is outlined in the description of the temple. Access control to the sacred
precinct of 500 × 500 cubits is now in focus. Whereas Ezek 44 represents

Zadokites were integrated into the Aaronide genealogy. Therefore all Zadokites were Aar-
onides, but not all Aaronides were Zadokites.
30 Cf. Cohen, Miqra’ot Gedolot, 296–97.
31 Translation according to Levine, Numbers 21–36, 281.
32 E.g. Levine, Numbers 21–36, 280: “Phinehas was granted an everlasting covenant,
assuring that his descendants would hold the office of the Israelite chief-priesthood for-
ever”. Regarding the genealogical links between the Zadokites and Eleazarides, see Levine,
Numbers 21–36, 297–300.
33 Nadab and Abihu, the two firstborn sons of Aaron, “are eliminated from consider-
ation in Lev. 10:1–7” (Levine, Numbers 21–36, 298).
442 michael konkel

a different view from the one found in the Pentateuch, it cannot be stated
that it is in conflict with the Torah. Rather, Ezek 44 can be understood as a
quite radical and exclusive interpretation of pentateuchal traditions from
a Zadokite point of view.

5. The Purity Laws for the Zadokite Priests (Ezek 44:17–27)

Whereas the degradation of the Levites and the monopolistic claim of the
Zadokites regarding the priesthood have broadly attracted the interest of
researchers,34 little attention is paid to the adjacent ordinances for the
Zadokite priests (44:17–31). Usually 44:17–31 is seen as “a potpourri of regu-
lations concerning priests”.35 Only J. Milgrom has attempted to search for
an underlying system within these regulations. He compares the rules for
the Zadokite priests in Ezek 44 with their parallels in the Priestly source.
Milgrom states:
his (i.e. Ezekiel’s) list of prohibitions for the priesthood (44:17–27) is with
only one exception in direct conflict with P. . . . It should be noted that in
each case Ezekiel takes the stricter point of view.36
However, even though a closer look reveals that the rules of Ezek 44
partly differ from their parallels in the Pentateuch, I think that Milgrom
is wrong.
Every regulation in 44:17–31 has a parallel within the Pentateuch.
Tracing lines of dependence between these texts, however, is quite a com-
plex task. Due to the confined space of this paper, we will focus on the
regulations in vv. 17–27.37 The following parallels can be observed:

The priestly garments Ezek 44:17–19 Cf. Exod 28; 39; Lev 19:19; Deut 22:11
The priestly haircut Ezek 44:20 Cf. Lev 10:6; 21:5, 10
Prohibition of wine Ezek 44:21 Lev 10:9
The priestly marriage Ezek 44:22 Cf. Lev 21:13–15
Teaching of Torah Ezek 44:23 Lev 10:10
Judicial and cultic order Ezek 44:24 Cf. Deut 21:5
Contact with corpses Ezek 44:25–27 Cf. Lev 21:1–4; Num 19:11–22

34 Cf. recently Cook, “Innerbiblical Interpretation”; Duguid, “Putting Priests in Their

Place”; Fechter, “Priesthood”.
35 Allen, Ezekiel, 263.
36 Milgrom, Leviticus, 452–53.
37 The ‘Gottesspruchformel’ at the end of 44:27 separates this set of rules from 44:28–31,
which marks the transition to 45:1–8 with the two themes ‘possession of land’ and ‘portion
of the sacrifices’.
 the system of holiness in ezekiel’s vision of the new temple 443

Some intertextual links are very close, some appear to be quite loose. We
cannot trace a clear-cut development according to which Ezekiel would
present the tightening of pentateuchal law, or vice versa. Ezek 44:17–19
continue the theme of guarding the sacred space. When entering the
inner court, the priests must wear vestments made solely from linen. In
the background is the prohibition of mixing linen and wool as it is found
in Lev 19:19 and Deut 22:11. Generally it is assumed that Ezek 44:17–19
adapts Lev 16:4: At the Day of Atonement, the high priest shall enter the
sanctuary dressed completely in linen. So Ezek 44:17–19 would represent a
stricter stance than the Pentateuch by extending a rule for the high priest
to the ordinary priests. But what kind of dress does the Pentateuch require
for the Aaronide priests? Should the general prohibition of mixing linen
and wool not apply to them?
The problem is not addressed in any commentary on Ezekiel. We will
start to solve it by looking at the way Josephus paraphrases Deut 22:11:
Let not any one of you wear a garment made of wool and linen, for that is
appointed to be for the priests alone. (Ant. 4.208)
According to Josephus, the vestments of the priests are made of linen.
But the girdle and the sash were made from linen that was pervaded by
woolen threads dyed in purple and crimson.
If we now take a look at the Pentateuch, things get complicated. The
priestly garments are described in Exod 28 and 39 as part of the tabernacle
appurtenances.38 Regarding the undergarments, the skirts and the turban,
it is stated that they are made from linen (Exod 28:39–43; 39:39–43). The
textile the sash is made of remains unclear in the pentateuchal account.
While Exod 28:39–40 does not provide further requirements regarding the
material, Exod 39:29 states:
And the sash of twined linen and of blue and red purple and of crimson. It
was a first-class product of work of the textile artist, as YHWH commanded
by Moses.39
Jewish tradition preserves a discussion concerning whether this verse
relates only to the sash of the high priest or to that of the ordinary priests
as well.40 The background of this discussion is the question of whether
only the sash of Aaron consisted of linen with interwoven woolen threads

38 The standard reference for the priestly garments is still Haran, Temples.
39 Translation according to Houtman, Exodus, 517.
40 Cf. b. Yoma 6a, and see the Jewish commentaries to Exod 39:29 cited in Carasik,
Exodus, 331.
444 michael konkel

or if the ordinary priests also wore a garment that contained a mixture of

linen and wool. But the text of Exod 39:29 does not give any hint that the
sash of Aaron was different from that of the other priests. So do we in fact
have to claim a contradiction between Ezek 44:17 and Exod 39:29?
From my point of view this conclusion is not compelling. If we look at
the text of Exod 39:29 carefully, we can see that the color of the interwoven
threads is defined but not the material. Both wool and linen were dyed
with purple or crimson in antiquity.41 Given the testimony of Josephus,
the sashes of the priests consisted of a mixture of linen and wool in the
period of the Second Temple. Ezek 44 argues against this practice, and
as 44:18 shows, the sashes are the objects of dispute. However, Ezek 44
does not argue against the Torah. Rather, the Pentateuch shows a care-
ful phrasing that can be interpreted in different ways. Obviously the gar-
ments of the priests were a subject of discussion in Persian times. Ezek 44
represents a position that cannot be summarized as more or less strict
than the Torah. Rather, Ezekiel provides a definite formulation, whereas
the Pentateuch leaves space for different interpretations.
However, why were the garments of the priests made from a mix-
ture of linen and wool? The answer to this question is to be found in
Deut 22:9–11:
9 You shall not sow your vineyard with two different kinds of seed, lest you
make the full yield holy, both the seed which you sow and the produce of
the vineyard. 10 You shall not plow with an ox and an ass together. 11 You
shall not wear mixed material, wool and linen woven together.
The prohibition of mixing linen and wool is part of a larger set of rules.
Verse 9 provides the rationale for those. Mixing things is not only a source
of uncleanness but can also result in holiness. This leads us deep into the
complex system of sacred contagion, which cannot be discussed further
here.42 However, we can state that the mixture of wool and linen was
seen as holy—and this is why the prohibition of mixing was not applied
to the priestly garments. According to the Pentateuch, the priests them-
selves were holy, so it was a general practice that they could be in contact
with a holy mixture. In contrast, Ezekiel claims a strict observance of
Deut 22:11 and Lev 19:19, and thus he does not argue against the Torah but

41 Dalman, Arbeit und Sitte, 76.

42 See Haran, Temples; Milgrom, Changing Concept; Jenson, Graded Holiness.
 the system of holiness in ezekiel’s vision of the new temple 445

against a cultic practice, as it was common in the period of the Second

Temple.
There is one last thing to consider. Ezek 44:19 adds the rule that the
priests change their garments before entering the outer court, “to pre-
vent them from transmitting holiness to the people by contact with the
clothes”. The linen garments, though not holy per se, had become holy
by being in contact with the sacred. The rule has no direct parallel in the
Pentateuch. Once again this is significant. Hag 2:12 states:
If someone carries sacred meat in the corner of his garment, and with his
corner touches bread, pottage, wine, oil, or any foodstuff, will any of these
be sanctified? The priest replied, and said, ‘No’.
The sacred meat transfers holiness to the garment in which it is carried.
But does the garment also transfer its ‘second-order’ holiness? The ques-
tion to the priest shows that this was a controversial topic in the Persian
period. At first sight, Haggai seems to contradict Ezek 44, where it is pre-
supposed that the linen priestly garments could transfer their holiness to
the people. But the answer of the priest in Hag 2 refers only to objects and
not to persons. Neither Hag 2 nor the Pentateuch gives a direct answer to
the problem Ezek 44:19 deals with. So once again Ezek 44 makes a clear
statement, where the Pentateuch leaves a blank.
Ezek 44:20 moves from the priestly vestments to the topic of the priestly
haircuts. The prohibition against completely shaving the head has its par-
allel in Lev 21:10 as a demand for regular priests. The prohibition of letting
the hair grow loose is found in Lev 10:6 and later in 21:5 as a requirement
for the high priest. The combination of both prohibitions is only found in
Ezek 44:20. Moreover, the demand to keep the hair trimmed has no direct
parallel. Nevertheless, as b. Sanhedrin 22b shows, this was practiced in the
Second Temple period. We can observe a coherent approach: two regula-
tions are referred to, from which a third one is deduced to fill a gap in the
pentateuchal legislation.
The prohibition of wine in 44:21 has its parallel in Lev 10:9. We will
return to Lev 10 in the discussion of Ezek 44:23.
The rules for priestly marriage follow. Because we have a direct parallel
in the Pentateuch, a juxtaposition and detailed analysis seem helpful for
our present purpose:
446 michael konkel

Ezek 44:22 Lev 21:13–15

He may marry only a woman who is a
virgin.
They shall not marry widows or A widow, or a divorced woman, or one
divorced women; who is degraded by harlotry—such he
may not marry.
they may marry only virgins of the seed Only a virgin of his people may he
of the house of Israel, marry—
or widows who are widows of priests.
that he may not profane his offspring
among his people, for I YHWH have
sanctified him.

Lev 21:13–15 is part of a larger set of regulations that differentiates between

rules for the high priest and less strict rules for ordinary priests. Ezek 44:22
parallels the rules for the high priest even though Ezek 40–48 does not
mention such an office. So it is particularly significant that rules refer-
ring only to the high priest in the Pentateuch now in Ezekiel refer to
the Zadokite priesthood as a whole. But the rules do not exactly match
each other. First, the woman ‘degraded by harlotry’ is not mentioned in
Ezek 44. But this makes no difference with regard to content: Both texts
demand for the priests an Israelite virgin. This implies that a harlot is
forbidden for the Zadokite priests, too. The only real difference is that
Ezek 44 allows the Zadokite priests to marry the widows of priests, while
Lev 21 consistently prohibits the high priest from marrying any woman
who is not a virgin. Obviously the concept of Ezek 44 is secondary, stating
an exception to the rule. But why do we have this exception? Scholarship
has not given a satisfactory reply to this question yet. However, I would
suggest a solution for this desideratum: In Ezekiel, the widow of a priest
can only be the widow of a Zadokite. Children from a former marriage
are therefore of Zadokite origin, too. In Ezekiel’s system the marriage of
the widow of a priest does not contaminate the Zadokite lineage. In the
Pentateuch this is different: The concept of an Aaronide priesthood allows
the integration on non-Zadokite priestly groups. If we assume a Zadokite/
Eleazaride succession of high priests in the Second Temple period, then
the concession to marry the widow of a priest would have created the risk
of contaminating the high priestly lineage through former children from
a non-Zadokite priest. So what we have in Ezek 44:22 is the consequent
conversion of the high priestly laws of Lev 21 into the system of a pure
Zadokite priesthood. The prohibition of mixtures forms the basis and gov-
erns the system of purity rules.
 the system of holiness in ezekiel’s vision of the new temple 447

But there is still another difference that deserves attention. The law
in Leviticus ends with the demand “not to profane his offspring among
his people, for I YHWH have sanctified him”. At a first glance, such a
demand would have fit perfectly in Ezek 44. So why is it missing? As
the context shows, the demand clearly refers to the priest as person: the
priest is holy (cf. Lev 21:6, 7–8). In contrast, the priests in Ezekiel are not
called ‘holy’.43 Moreover, the concept of a ‘holy people’, as is typical in
the Holiness Code, is not found in Ezekiel. Israel is ‘stiff-necked’, and this
attribute is not revoked but affirmed in the oracles of salvation. Moreover,
it is the point of departure from which the Zadokite claims are vindicated
(cf. 44:6–9). It seems that holiness in Ezekiel is an attribute that cannot
be applied to persons but only to things belonging to the sphere of YHWH
and—of course—to YHWH himself. People can be infected by holiness by
coming in contact with the holy, but holiness is not something that can
be attributed to persons due to their way of life. A proper way of living is
the condition for the priests to draw near to the holy, but holiness is not
a quality properly attributed to them. In contrast to the Holiness Code
(Lev 17–26), holiness is not a moral category in Ezek 40–48.
The commission to teach Torah conforms almost verbatim to Lev 10:10,
as 44:21 parallels Lev 10:9. Within 44:17–27, we have only two regulations
that exactly match their corresponding text in the Torah, and both are
to be found in Lev 10. From my point of view this is not by accident. In
the Pentateuch only four speeches are directly addressed to Aaron. Three
of them can be found in Num 18. However the first one is in Lev 10:9–10,
precisely the two verses that parallel Ezek 44:21, 23. Due to lack of space,
we cannot look at Lev 10 and its pivotal role in the composition of the
Pentateuch. However, after the consecration of the priests, Lev 10:9–10
defines something like the essence of the priestly duties, and the story
of the death of Nadab and Abihu shows how Aaron fulfills his priestly
responsibilities in an extreme situation. Ezek 44 now affirms this essence
of the priestly duties for the new temple.
Ezek 44:24 assigns the administration of justice to the Zadokite priests.
Once again it seems that this is in conflict with the Pentateuch. Deut 17:8–
13; 19:17 show that priests participated in the administration of justice, but
judges stood at their side (cf. 2 Chr 19:8–11). In Deut 22:13–21 and 25:7–10, the
elders are responsible for settling disputes in the community (cf. Exod 18

43 The word ‫ המקדש‬in Ezek 48:11 is syntactically and text-critically difficult and seems
to be a late gloss.
448 michael konkel

and Deut 1:13–18). But there is one verse that fits our passage in Ezekiel.
Deut 21:5 reads:
And the Levitical priests shall approach for YHWH, your God, has chosen
them to serve him and to bless in the name of YHWH, and every dispute and
every case of assault shall be settled according to their word.
Deut 21:1–9 deals with the case of a murder by an unknown person. Verse 5
clearly is an insertion into its context, which originally only mentioned
the elders.44 Even though the verse is added to a specific context, it
entrusts the Levitical priests with the administration of justice in general.
Regarding Ezekiel, it is important that Ezek 44:16 explicitly and exclusively
identifies the ‘sons of Zadok’ with the Levitical priests. So Ezek 44:24a
conforms to Deut 21:5.45 The second half of Ezek 44:24 primarily func-
tions as a counterpart to 22:26, so that the priests of the new temple are
summoned to observe the cultic ordinances and to keep the Sabbath. As
the threefold list of juridical terms shows, the priests are entrusted with
an extensive responsibility regarding the maintenance of the social and
cultic order.
Finally, the rules regulating the priests’ contact with the dead will be
analyzed. Once again our text of reference is Lev 21. This time the rules for
the Zadokite priests correspond not to the stricter regulations for the high
priest but rather to the ones for the ordinary priests: In accordance with
Lev 21:1–4, the Zadokite priests may defile themselves by coming into con-
tact with the corpses of their nearest relatives: father, mother, son, daugh-
ter, brother and unmarried sister. Surprisingly, Lev 21 does not provide
any regulations concerning purity rites for the defiled priests. The only
text in the Pentateuch that deals with this issue is Num 19:11–22, where it
is stated that contact with a corpse defiles for seven days. Num 19 refers to
all Israelites, but it remains unclear if there were separate rules for priests.
Ezek 44:25–27 fills this gap in the legislation of the Pentateuch: Obviously
the seven-day period of Num 19 applies to priests, too. But an additional
seven-day period after the cleansing is provided, ending with a purifica-

44 Braulik, Deuteronomium, 152; Rüterswörden, Deuteronomium, 136; Niehr, Rechtspre-

chung, 112–14.
45 Even though the history of jurisprudence in Israel is still unsettled in many ways, it
can be said that following the centralization of Josiah, the elders continued to lose their
influence, while in the postexilic era the priests continuously expanded their influence
into the realm of jurisdiction. Deut 21:5 and Ezek 44:24 are witnesses for these postexilic
claims of the priests to control the administration of justice. Cf. Niehr, Rechtsprechung,
112–14.
 the system of holiness in ezekiel’s vision of the new temple 449

tion offering. Only afterwards are the priests allowed to enter the inner
court to draw near to the holy. So once again, Ezek 44 is not in conflict
with the Pentateuch but extends its legal tradition. Finally, another issue
that confirms our analysis of Ezek 44:21 becomes clear: while Lev 21:1–4
depicts the priest as a holy person, the focus of Ezek 44:25–27 is not on
the priest but on the protection of the sacred space.
To sum up, we can see that Ezek 44:1–27 is by no means simply “a
potpourri of regulations concerning priests”.46 The text claims more. If
you add the rules for the holy portions, Ezek 44:17–31 covers nearly all
topics of the pentateuchal legislation regarding the priests. The material
is chosen deliberately, and a coherent system can be described that is
organized by the prohibition of mixtures as found in Lev 19:19 and
Deut 22:11. J. Milgrom is wrong in two ways: All the rules of Ezek 44 are
neither stricter than their parallels in P nor “in direct conflict with P”.
Rather, the regulations of Ezek 44 interpret the related pentateuchal tradi-
tions from a point of view whose pivotal point is the monopolistic claims
of the Zadokites as expressed in 44:4–16. Therefore Ezek 44 can be labeled
a ‘Zadokite Halakha’. Ezek 44 is not in conflict with the Torah but argues
against specific cultic practices at the Second Temple in Jerusalem.
The rules mainly focus on protecting the sacred space. Thus the descrip-
tion of the temple with its perfectly structured architecture is linked with
the corpus of laws in Ezek 44–46. Moreover, the prohibition of mixtures,
which organizes the rules in Ezek 44:17–27, constitutes the principle for
understanding the system of holiness in Ezek 40–48 as a whole: the dis-
tinction of separate areas of holiness is the positive counterpart to the
prohibition of mixtures. The architecture of the new temple aims at a
clear distinction between separate areas of holiness. Ezek 44 assigns
these different areas to different parts of Israelite society: Foreigners are
banned from the sacred precinct, laypersons may enter the outer court
and only the Zadokite priests have access to the inner court, under strict
conditions.

6. The New Allotment of the Land

Finally, we will take a quick look at the new apportionment of the land
as it is described in Ezek 47–48 (cf. 45:1–8). The sketched boundaries are

46 Allen, Ezekiel, 263.

450 michael konkel

roughly in accordance with Num 34:1–12. A restoration of Israel to its ideal

borders from northern Syria to the southern Negev is expected. Just as Israel
existed in its promised frontiers at the inauguration of the first temple
(cf. 1 Kgs 8:65–66), so the new promise of the land has to be fulfilled before
the new temple can be built. The injustice of the first allotment of the land
by Joshua is canceled by assigning every tribe a portion of the same size.
From the center of the land, a portion (‫ )תרומה‬is selected in which temple
and city are located. The portion measures 25,000 × 25,000 cubits, which
multiplies the area of the temenos by 25. This portion is assigned to the
tribe of Levi, which surrounds and thereby guards the temple. The other
tribes are located to the north and south of this temple domain. Regarding
our question, one thing is of special interest: The order of the tribes follows
a pattern that distinguishes between the descendants of Jacob’s wives (Leah
and Rachel) and their handmaidens (Bilhah and Zilpah):

Table 1. The order of the tribes according to Ezek 48:1-8.

Dan Bilhah
Asher Zilpah
Naphtali Bilhah
Manasseh Rachel
Ephraim Rachel
Reuben Leah
Judah Leah
Portion (Levi) (Leah)
Benjamin Rachel
Simeon Leah
Issachar Leah
Zebulun Leah
Gad Zilpah

The sons of Leah and Rachel receive their part in proximity to the ‘por-
tion’, whereas the sons of Bilhah and Zilpah are pushed towards the
periphery (cf. the position of the tribes in the camp according to Num 2).
So we have another way of organizing the sacred space: Descent defines
the distance to the holy.
However, the concept of the ‘portion’ is the most intriguing feature
regarding the concept of holiness in Ezek 40–48: The ‘portion’ itself is
divided into three parts (see fig. 1): The northern strip, measuring 25,000 ×
10,000 cubits, is conveyed to the priests. The temple is located in the cen-
ter of this strip. Southwards follows the strip of the Levites, measuring
 the system of holiness in ezekiel’s vision of the new temple 451

25,000 × 10,000 cubits as well. The remaining 25,000 × 5,000 cubits are
assigned to the residents of the city. This area is explicitly qualified as
‘profane’ (48:15). The city itself measures 4,500 × 4,500 cubits (ca. 5.5 km2).
Jerusalem did not achieve this size until the 20th century!
Thus the city is located several kilometers south of the temple. Thereby
a cosmological concept common in Mesopotamia and Israel is left behind:
the temple as intersection point between heaven and earth marking the
center of the world.47 The city with its walls surrounds the temple and is
a symbol of the protecting power of the god that dwells within the temple
(cf. e.g. Pss 46 and 48). Beyond the city walls, the forces of chaos gain
power the further one moves away from the temple. According to Ezek
40–48, the temple is located in the center of the land, but the city does
not surround it. Temple and city are strictly separated. To say it some-
what exaggeratedly: The city with its walls does not protect the temple
any longer; rather, the temple has to be protected from the profane city.
Thus Ezek 47–48 radicalizes the separation of temple and palace, as is
called for in Ezek 43:7–9. Just as there is no place for the concept of a ‘holy
people’, there is also no ‘holy city’ in Ezek 40–48.

7. Summary and Perspectives

Our analysis demonstrates an elaborate system of holiness that connects

all three parts of Ezek 40–48: the strict separation of different areas of
holiness determines the new design of the temple, the corpus of cultic
laws and finally the new allotment of the land. The system is organized by
the prohibition of mixtures as it is found in Lev 19:19 and Deut 22:11. The
principle of separating the holy from the profane is applied rigorously to
such an extent that its feasibility is sacrificed: Whereas the design of the
temple and the organization of access to the sacred precinct are ambi-
tious but technically feasible, the strict separation of city and temple can-
not be realized, nor can the schematic allotment of the land.
As can be demonstrated by our analysis of Ezek 44, the text presupposes
a quantity of tradition that comprises not only elements usually assigned
to P but also traditions from the late Deuteronomy. The cultic laws for the
priests cover nearly the entire pentateuchal legislation that refers to the

47 Janowski, Heilige Wohnung; Pongratz-Leisten, Mental Map.

452 michael konkel

priests. Even though the rules in Ezekiel differ in many ways from their
parallels, it cannot simply be said that they are “in direct conflict with P”48
or constitute a “Konkurrenzunternehmen zur Aaroniden-Theorie von P”,49
as T. A. Rudnig calls it. Things are more complicated. Rather, it seems
that Ezek 40–48 should be called a ‘Zadokite Halakha’, which interprets
pentateuchal legal traditions from a specific point of view, namely the
monopolistic claim of the Zadokites, which itself can be understood as
an exclusive interpretation of the covenant with Phinehas in Num 25:12–
13. Thus Ezek 40–48 can work as a critique of the cultic practice at the
Second Temple in Jerusalem not by opposing the Pentateuch but rather
by interpreting and extending its legal traditions.
The protection of the sacred space is predominant. The priest as a
holy person is not in view, as even less is Israel, which is still called ‘stiff-
necked’. In this conception, there is no place for holiness that is achieved
by acting morally. Accordingly, ethical categories play only a peripheral
role in Ezek 40–48. As a result, the judicial order is assigned to the priests
in Ezek 44:24, but 45:8–9 delegates the enforcement of right and justice to
the prince and does not connect this office with any term related to holi-
ness. Whereas in the first temple vision (Ezek 8–11) the filling of the land
with violence (‫ )חמס‬marks the climax of abominations that cause YHWH
to leave his temple (8:17), in the second temple vision ethical transgres-
sions are not considered a cause of defilement of the temple in the future.
Ezek 40–48 outlines a system of holiness that is constructed strictly spa-
tially. Ethical transgressions may result in uncleanness (cf. Ezek 18), but
this is seen as unproblematic as long as the source of uncleanness is with-
drawn from the sacred precinct. In the same way, purity is the natural
condition for drawing near to the holy, but purity itself is not a fundamen-
tal category in this system.
According to the book of Ezekiel, salvation is dependent on the pres-
ence of YHWH’s glory in the temple. Israel’s cultic and moral transgres-
sions of the past induced YHWH to abandon his dwelling place and
leave it to be judged. As a result, in Ezek 40–48 the concept of holiness
is decoupled from the ethical realm. Moral transgressions cannot disrupt
the future order of salvation. The catastrophe of 587/86 will never happen
again, even if Israel remains ‘stiff-necked’, as long as the sacred space is
protected from defilement.

48 Milgrom, Leviticus, 452–53.

49 Rudnig, Heilig und profan, 301.
 the system of holiness in ezekiel’s vision of the new temple 453

Bibliography

Allen, Leslie C. Ezekiel 20–48. World Biblical Commentary 29. Nashville: Thomas Nelson,
1990.
Block, Daniel Isaac. The Book of Ezekiel: Chapters 25–48. New International Commentary on
the Old Testament. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1998.
——. The Book of Ezekiel: Chapters 1–24. New International Commentary on the Old
Testament. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1997.
Braulik, Georg. Deuteronomium II: 16,18–34,12. Neue Echter Bibel: Kommentar zum Alten
Testament 28. Würzburg: Echter, 1992.
Carasik, Michael. Exodus. The Commentators’ Bible. The JPS Miqra’ot Gedolot. Philadelphia:
Jewish Publication Society, 2005.
Cody, Aelred. A History of Old Testament Priesthood. Analecta biblica 35, Rome: Pontifical
Biblical Institute, 1969.
Cohen, Menachem. Mikra’ot Gedolot ‘HaKeter’: A Revised and Augmented Scientific Edition of
‘Mikra’ot Gedolot’ Based on the Aleppo Codex and Early Medieval MSS: Ezekiel. Jerusalem:
Bar-Ilan University, 2000 (Hebrew).
Cook, Stephen L. “Innerbiblical Interpretation in Ezekiel 44 and the History of Israel’s
Priesthood”. Journal of Biblical Literature 114 (1995): 193–208.
Dahmen, Ulrich. Leviten und Priester im Deuteronomium: Literarkritische und redaktionsge-
schichtliche Studien. Bonner Biblische Beiträge 110. Bodenheim: Philo, 1996.
Dalman, Gustaf. Arbeit und Sitte in Palästina: Band V: Webstoff, Spinnen, Weben, Kleidung.
Gütersloh: Bertelsmann, 1937.
Duguid, Iain M. “Putting Priests in Their Place: Ezekiel’s Contribution to the History of the
Old Testament Priesthood”. Pages 43–59 in Ezekiel’s Hierarchical World: Wrestling with
a Tiered Reality. Symposium Series: Society of Biblical Literature 31. Edited by S. L. Cook
and C. L. Patton. Atlanta: Society of Biblical Literature, 2004.
Fechter, Friedrich. “Priesthood in Exile according to the Book of Ezekiel”. Pages 27–41 in
Ezekiel’s Hierarchical World: Wrestling with a Tiered Reality. Symposium Series: Society
of Biblical Literature 31. Edited by S. L. Cook and C. L. Patton. Atlanta: Society of Biblical
Literature, 2004.
Greenberg, Moshe. Ezekiel 21–37: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary.
Anchor Bible 22a. New York: Doubleday, 1997.
——. “The Design and Themes of Ezekiel’s Program of Restoration”. Interpretation 38
(1984): 181–208.
——. Ezekiel 1–20: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary. Anchor Bible 22.
New York: Doubleday, 1983.
Gunneweg, Antonius H. J. Leviten und Priester: Hauptlinien der Traditionsbildung und
Geschichte des israelitisch-jüdischen Kultpersonals. Forschungen zur Religion und
Literatur des Alten und Neuen Testaments 89. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht,
1965.
Haran, Menahem. Temples and Temple-Service in Ancient Israel: An Inquiry into the
Character of Cult Phenomena and the Historical Setting of the Priestly School. Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 1978.
Hossfeld, Frank-Lothar. “Das Buch Ezechiel”. Pages 489–506 in Einleitung in das Alte
Testament: mit einem Grundriss der Geschichte Israels von Christian Frevel. 7d ed.
Kohlhammer Studienbücher Theologie 1,1. Edited by E. Zenger. Stuttgart: Kohlhammer,
2008.
Houtman, Cornelis. Exodus: Vol. 3: Chapters 20–40. Historical Commentary on the Old
Testament. Leuven: Peeters, 2000.
Janowski, Bernd. “ ‘Die Heilige Wohnung des Höchsten:’ Kosmologische Implikationen
der Jerusalemer Tempeltheologie”. Pages 24–68 in Gottesstadt und Gottesgarten: Zu
Geschichte und Theologie des Jerusalemer Tempels. Quaestiones Disputatae 191. Edited
by O. Keel and E. Zenger. Freiburg: Herder, 2002.
454 michael konkel

Jenson, Philip P. Graded Holiness: A Key to the Priestly Conception of the World. Journal for
the Study of the Old Testament: Supplement Series 106. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic
Press, 1992.
Joüon, Paul. A Grammar of Biblical Hebrew. Translated and revised by T. Muraoka. 2 vols.
Subsidia biblica 14,1–2. Rome: Pontifical Biblical Institute, 1996.
Keel, Othmar. Die Geschichte Jerusalems und die Entstehung des Monotheismus: Teil 1: Orte
und Landschaften der Bibel 4,1. Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2007.
Klein, Anja. Schriftauslegung im Ezechielbuch: Redaktionsgeschichtliche Untersuchungen zu
Ez 34–39. Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die Alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 391. Berlin: de
Gruyter, 2008.
Konkel, Michael. “Ezechiel–Prophet ohne Eigenschaften: Biographie zwischen Theologie
und Anthropologie”. Pages 216–42 in Biblische Anthropologie: Neue Einsichten aus dem
Alten Testament. Quaestiones Disputatae 237. Edited by C. Frevel. Freiburg: Herder,
2010.
——. “Die Gola von 597 und die Priester: Zu einem Buch von Thilo Alexander Rudnig”.
Zeitschrift für Altorientalische und Biblische Rechtsgeschichte 8 (2002): 357–83.
——. Architektonik des Heiligen: Studien zur Zweiten Tempelvision Ezechiels (Ez 40–48).
Bonner Biblische Beiträge 129. Berlin: Philo, 2001.
Levenson, Jon Douglas. Theology of the Program of Restoration of Ezekiel 40–48. Harvard
Semitic Monographs 10. Missoula, Mont.: Scholars Press, 1976.
Levine, Baruch A. Numbers 21–36: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary.
Anchor Bible 4. New York: Doubleday, 2000.
Milgrom, Jacob. “The Changing Concept of Holiness in the Pentateuchal Codes with
Emphasis on Leviticus 19”. Pages 65–85 in Reading Leviticus: A Conversation with Mary
Douglas. Journal for the Study of the Old Testament: Supplement Series 227. Edited by
J. F. A. Sawyer. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1996.
——. Leviticus 1–16. A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary. Anchor Bible 3.
New York: Doubleday, 1991.
Niehr, Herbert. Rechtsprechung in Israel: Untersuchungen zur Geschichte der Gerichts-
organisation im Alten Testament. Stuttgarter Bibelstudien 130. Stuttgart: Verlag
Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1987.
Pohlmann, Karl-Friedrich. Ezechiel: Der Stand der theologischen Diskussion. Darmstadt:
Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 2008.
——. Der Prophet Hesekiel/Ezechiel. Kapitel 20–48. Das Alte Testament Deutsch 22,2.
Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2001.
——. Der Prophet Hesekiel/Ezechiel: Kapitel 1–19. Das Alte Testament Deutsch 22,1.
Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1996.
Pongratz-Leisten, Beate. “Mental Map und Weltbild in Mesopotamien”. Pages 261–79 in
Das biblische Weltbild und seine altorientalischen Kontexte. Forschungen zum Alten
Testament 32. Edited by B. Janowski and B. Ego. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2001.
Rooke, Deborah W. Zadok’s Heirs: The Role and Development of the High Priesthood in
Ancient Israel. Oxford Theological Monographs. Oxford: Oxford Theological Press,
2000.
Rudnig, Thilo Alexander. Heilig und profan: Redaktionskritische Studien zu Ez 40–48.
Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die Alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 287. Berlin: de Gruyter,
2000.
Rüterswörden, Udo. Das Buch Deuteronomium. Neuer Stuttgarter Kommentar: Altes
Testament 4. Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 2006.
Schöpflin, Karin. Theologie als Biographie im Ezechielbuch: Ein Beitrag zur Konzeption
alttestamentlicher Prophetie. Forschungen zum Alten Testament 36. Tübingen: Mohr
Siebeck, 2002.
Sedlmeier, Franz. Das Buch Ezechiel: Kapitel 1–24. Neuer Stuttgarter Kommentar: Altes
Testament 21,1. Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 2002.
Skinner, John. The Book of Ezekiel. The Expositor’s Bible. New York: Armstrong and Son,
1895.
 the system of holiness in ezekiel’s vision of the new temple 455

Stevenson, Kalinda Rose. Vision of Transformation: The Territorial Rhetoric of Ezekiel

40–48. Society of Biblical Literature: Dissertation Series 154. Atlanta: Society of Biblical
Literature, 1996.
Tuell, Steven Shawn. Ezekiel. New International Biblical Commentary: Old Testament
Series 15. Peabody, Mass.: Hendrickson, 2009.
——. The Law of the Temple in Ezekiel 40–48. Harvard Semitic Monographs 49. Atlanta:
Scholars Press 1992.
Vogt, Ernst. Untersuchungen zum Buch Ezechiel. Analecta Biblica 95. Rome: Biblical
Institute Press, 1981.
Zimmerli, Walter. Ezekiel: Vol. 2 of A Commentary on the Book of the Prophet Ezekiel.
Hermeneia 26. Translated by J. D. Martin. Michigan: Fortress Press, 1983.
——. Ezechiel. Biblischer Kommentar: Altes Testament 13,1–2. 2d ed. Neukirchen-Vluyn:
Neukirchener Verlag, 1979.
Zwickel, Wolfgang, Der Salomonische Tempel. Kulturgeschichte der Antiken Welt 83.
Mainz: Philipp von Zabern, 1999.
 THE RELEVANCE OF PURITY IN SECOND TEMPLE JUDAISM
ACCORDING TO EZRA-NEHEMIAH

Benedikt Rausche

1. Introduction

Throughout recent scholarly debate, the books of Ezra and Nehemiah

have been regarded nearly unanimously as one composition, which in its
final stage draws a dual portrait of Judean society in the Persian period
under the reigns of the Achaemenid kings Cyrus, Darius and Artaxerxes.1
This position has not remained unchallenged,2 but it must nevertheless
be noted that the composition contains clear links between the Ezra and
the Nehemiah sections that (at least in part) may go back to a process of
literary development that already included both components.
An account of the composition’s literary development cannot be pro-
vided here, but we can distinguish between three different parts, each
with its own distinct literary history, compiled to form a cohesive narra-
tive. Thus, within the division between the Ezra and the Nehemiah sec-
tions, Ezra 1–6 should be treated as a separate unit.3
As one cohesive composition, Ezra-Nehemiah deals with the construc-
tion of identity after the exile, which culminates in two building accounts
as well as the community’s commitment to the Torah. All the attempts,
material or non-material, to establish a common group identity are said to
be challenged by enemies from outside and from within.
As will be shown, the topic of purity is used in Ezra-Nehemiah to
stress the community’s internal cohesion as well as to sharpen external

1 See, e.g., the detailed discussion in Boda and Reddit, Unity and Disunity; Eskenazi, Age
of Prose; Karrer, Verfassung; Steins, Esra und Nehemia, et al.
2 See VanderKam, “Ezra-Nehemiah”. The Masoretes regard Ezra and Nehemiah as one
single book, for example by counting the words together and fixing a separate book ending
not after Ezra 10 but only after Neh 13. The Septuagint regards both parts as a unity, too.
Stylistic and thematic differences between Ezra and Nehemiah mentioned by VanderKam
do not advocate for two independent books but can be explained by the compilation of
different sources.
3 Cf., e.g., Grabbe, Ezra-Nehemiah, 107–9; Williamson, Ezra-Nehemiah, xviii–xxxii. This
is an approximate division, of course, as several chapters remain disputed (cf. Neh 8; 9–10).
But this is not crucial for the argumentation that will be presented within this paper.
458 benedikt rausche

boundaries. Furthermore, the community’s relation to the sanctuary is a

key to understanding the composition’s notion(s) of purity.
Recently Hannah Harrington has assumed the following:
Although the sources of these books [Ezra and Nehemiah—bc] contain
different nuances of thought on holiness and purity, they have been fit
together by the compiler who presents a coherent ideology on holiness and
purity which is startling in its innovation.4
Harrington’s conclusion regarding the coherence of purity ideology in
Ezra-Nehemiah, although drawn from a detailed analysis, might go a bit
too far. As I will argue, there are indeed consistent conceptions through-
out the composition, but the differences between certain texts regard-
ing purity ought not to be underestimated. Thus it is more reasonable
to speak of a discourse on, as well as developments in, purity ideology
in Ezra-Nehemiah. After a brief overview of terminology concerning the
topic in general, I will analyze each of the three parts that form the com-
position, concluding with a summary.

2. Purity and Holiness in Ezra-Nehemiah

A first reading of the composition leads to the impression that cultic

vocabulary is present but not extraordinarily prevalent.5 Nevertheless, a
closer look shows that this language is of structural importance for the
narrative.
In Ezra-Nehemiah, one of the great topics is the reconstruction of the
temple in Jerusalem along with the (re)installation of a legitimate cult.
The building of the temple especially dominates Ezra 1–6, but it is also
an important motive throughout the following texts (e.g. Ezra 7–8; 10:1,
6; Neh 10:33–34; 13:4–31). Priests and Levites are frequently mentioned in
Ezra-Nehemiah, too.6 It is not surprising then that the authors take issue
with the purity of the cult and its personnel. But the semantic field is not
limited to texts on the sanctuary and its ‘specialists’. Jerusalem, the land,
the group of Judean inhabitants, as well as foreigners and their purity

4 Harrington, “Holiness and Purity”, 115.

5 On the following, in general, see the detailed analysis by Harrington, “Holiness and
Purity”, passim.
6 Ezra 1:5; 2:36–63; 3:8–12; 6:16–22; 7:1–5, 7, 11; 8:15–36; 9:1; 10:18; Neh 3:1; 7:39–65; 8:7, 11,
13; 10:1; 12; 13.
 the relevance of purity in second temple judaism 459

status and its consequence for the holiness of the sanctuary are involved
in this discourse, too.7 Looking only at purity terminology, the results are
quite manageable:
The root ‫( טהר‬pure/[to] purify) appears six times (Ezra 6:20; Neh 12:30
[twice]; 13:9, 22, 30); Neh 12:45 has a substantive form (‫)טהרה‬. ‫טמאה‬
(impurity) occurs twice (Ezra 6:21; 9:11). The root ‫( נדה‬impurity/impure)
is used only in Ezra 9:11. ‫( גאל‬pollute/pollution) is mentioned as a verb in
Ezra 2:62 and Neh 7:64 (cf. the repetition of the list!) and as a substantive
in Neh 13:29. The very strong, even polemical word ‫( תועבה‬abomination),
which includes cultic misdeeds (cf. Lev 18) and is sometimes connected
with impurity, occurs in Ezra 9:1, 11, 14.
All in all, purity terminology is limited to certain sections of Ezra-
Nehemiah: besides the lists in Ezra 2/Neh 7, it can be found in Ezra
6:19–22; Ezra 9–10; Neh 12 and 13. Thus Blenkinsopp’s observation of “the
prevalence of specifically ritual language”8 is applicable only for some
parts of the composition. But the brief overview provided here does not
yet allow a final judgment on its relevance.

3. Purity in the Temple-Building Narrative

The survey of purity traditions in Ezra-Nehemiah starts with the narra-

tive of the Golah group returning from Babylon after Cyrus’s decree (cf.
Ezra 1:1–4) and the rebuilding of the temple (Ezra 1–6).
The list of returnees from the Babylonian Golah (Ezra 2:1–70/Neh 7:6–72)
reports that some of the returnees, who are not able to account for their
priestly genealogy, are excluded from the priesthood (‫ויגאלו מן־הכהנה‬, cf.
Ezra 2:61–63/Neh 7:63–65). In consequence, they are not allowed to eat
from the ‘holy of holies’ (‫)קדש הקדשים‬, which probably means they can-
not earn their living from the cult (cf. Num 18:9–10).
The root ‫ גאל‬occurs twelve times in the Hebrew Bible in relation to
purity or cult. Dan 1:8 (twice, hithpael) describes Daniel’s attempt not
to defile himself by eating impure food. Isa 59:3 and Lam 4:14 express
defilement with blood (in both cases probably referring metaphorically
to immoral acts) using niphal forms (cf. Zeph 3:1), while Isa 63:3 speaks

7 Harrington, among others, sees an extension of holiness here; see Harrington, “Holi-
ness and Purity”, 116.
8 Blenkinsopp, Judaism, 127. His assumption is mainly based on Ezra 9:2, 11; Ezra 6:21
and Neh 13:3.
460 benedikt rausche

of pollution with blood employing the hiphil. Mal 1:7, 12 mention the root
twice in a pual and once in a piel form, discussing misdeeds in the con-
text of sacrifice. A substantive deriving from the root can be found in Neh
13:29, where priestly malpractice is criticized.9
Mal 1:7, 12 provide the only other occurrences of ‫ גאל‬in a pual form
besides Ezra 2/Neh 7.
Mal 1:7 refers to inadequate food (‫לחם‬, literally ‘bread’) offered on the
altar of YHWH, polluting it and indicating contempt of YHWH.10 Mal
1:8 may explain why the offering is ‫מגאל‬: Parallel to Mal 1:7, it offers the
criticism that blemished animals had been offered.11 Thus the offerings
denoted by the term ‫ גאל‬are said to be not impure but defective.
In Ezra 2:62, a suitable translation of ‫ ויגאלו מן־הכהנה‬could thus be
“they were excluded from the priesthood as inadequate”.12 This does not
mean ‘inadequate’ only in technical terms. One must assume that the con-
notations of impurity and contempt are employed here intentionally. The
criticized persons are not accused of being impure or profane directly, but
they are nevertheless excluded from their priestly profession by doubts
about their adequacy to be in contact with the holy. For the author of
the list of returnees, priestly status certainly presupposes that there are
no doubts about descent.13 Otherwise there would be the danger that the
charged person would not be in the right condition to come into contact
with the holy, which would be an act of disrespect towards YHWH. Thus,
the text takes a certain polemical tone against the discharged ‘wannabe-
priests’ that goes beyond only technical matters.
This exclusion will obtain until a priest appears who will be able to
decide using Urim and Tummim (cf. Ezra 2:63/Neh 7:65). This means,
however, that the decision is not necessarily permanent, which fits well
with the understanding of ‫ גאל‬proposed here: it does not indicate imma-
nent impurity in Ezra 2:62/Neh 7:64. It is a statement of temporary exclu-
sion from a special profession. Exclusion is only an option with regard to
the priesthood, as for lay persons no similar case is discussed in connec-

9 See below for further details.

10 See Glazier-McDonald, Malachi, 48, who points to the parallel use of ‫ גאל‬and ‫בזה‬
in Mal 1:6–7, 12.
11 For the relation between Mal 1:7 and 8 and its implications for the meaning of ‫גאל‬, cf.
Reddit, Malachi, 164–65, and Glazier-McDonald, Malachi, 50, 57. For restrictions regarding
offered animals, cf., e.g., Lev 22:18–25.
12 The translation in the JPS Tanakh certainly is correct; it reads: “they were disqualified
for the priesthood”.
13 See Blenkinsopp, Judaism, 149–50.
 the relevance of purity in second temple judaism 461

tion to the list.14 A clear reference to the impurity of a certain group of

people or lineage justifying their exclusion cannot be found, either in a
ritual, a moral or a genealogical sense.15
Furthermore, compared to the texts that I will analyze below, it is strik-
ing that the struggle over the exclusion of groups from building the temple
(cf., e.g., Ezra 4) also lacks any direct reference to purity.
At the end of the temple-building account, Ezra 6:19–22 reports the cel-
ebration of the Passover and the feast of Unleavened Bread. According to
Ezra 6:20, the priests and the Levites purify (‫ )הטהרו‬themselves and are
said to all be pure (‫)טהורים‬. Thus, they are able to slaughter the Passover
offering explicitly for the returnees, the ‘sons of the Golah’. Performing
a ritual such as this requires purity on the part of the cultic personnel.
But there is another group mentioned who has to deal with (im)purity:
those “who joined them in separating themselves from the impurity of the
nations of the land to seek YHWH, the God of Israel” (6:21). Their separa-
tion is expressed by the root ‫בדל‬.16 This group, which does not originally
belong to the returnees, has to leave behind the impurity of other groups
(cf. the plural ‘nations’) in the land to attend the cult. It seems that there
is a difference regarding purity between the Golah returnees as a legiti-
mate community and other peoples in the land, who do not belong to
the in-group automatically but are said to be in a state of impurity that
has to be remedied before they may join the returnees in celebrating the
Passover. For Ezra 1–6, the returnees are those who built the temple and
excluded other people willing to join their project (cf. Ezra 4:1–3). They
constitute a kind of ‘avant-garde’ of postexilic Yehûd. Without abandon-
ing impurity, (polemically) ascribed to other groups living in the land,
access to the Golah group, which is described as sanctuary centered by
Ezra 1–6, is impossible.
When foreigners (‫ )גוי־הארץ‬are said to be impure (‫ טמא‬as substantive),
it is a kind of impurity explicitly connected to groups outside the Golah
community, but it does not seem to be permanent or immanent, as they

14 Cf. 2:59–60, where a short note reports that three families were not able to prove
their Israelite origins but did not suffer any consequences.
15 Contra Harrington, “Holiness and Purity”, 107, and Olyan, “Purity Ideology”, 9.
16 The root is common in a technical context in priestly texts, often related to the cult
(normally in a Hiphil form). For the separation of the priests from lay people, cf. Num 8:14;
16:9, 21; Deut 10:8; Ezra 8:24. Perpetrators can be separated from the community, too (cf.
Deut 29:20; Ezra 10:8). Additionally, the term is a technical one for the division between
pure and impure (Lev 10:10) and can express the separation of something holy (cf. Exod
26:33; Ezek 42:20). See Otzen, “‫”בדל‬, 518–520.
462 benedikt rausche

are able to separate themselves from it and join the Judean ‘avant-garde’.
The text does not establish an ‘impermeable boundary’17 via purity ideol-
ogy. Rather, it opens a door for foreigners labeled as impure not to be
excluded from the community of Israel irreversibly.18 Ezra 6:21 probably
represents a late concept that has to be confronted in Ezra 9–10, discuss-
ing the topic of inclusion and exclusion in a detailed and alternative way.19
A late dating of Ezra 6:19–22 is suggested by its dependence on 2 Chr 30,
probably aimed at placing an ideal Passover feast against the background
of the deficient one narrated by the Chronicler (cf. 2 Chr 30:17–19).
The topic of Ezra 6:21 differs from Ezra 2:61–63. In the list, the adequacy
of priests was of concern. Ezra 6:21 seems to qualify all inhabitants of the
land who do not belong to the group of returnees from the Babylonian
Golah as explicitly impure but leaves open the possibility of their aban-
doning impurity and joining the community of the returnees at least in
celebrating the Passover. Short notes on the synchronic and diachronic
relation between Ezra 6:21 and Ezra 9–10 will be given below.

4. Purity in the Ezra Narrative

Ezra is one of the great figures representing the period of identity con-
struction in Early Judaism. As his mission is to implement the Torah in
Yehûd properly and to organize cultic affairs (cf. Ezra 7:12–26), he is also
described as interested in purity and holiness.
In Ezra 8:24 the term ‫( בדל‬to separate) is used for the first time in the
Ezra narrative, but in spite of the usage in 6:21, Ezra here separates out
twelve priests who have to transport silver, gold and vessels for the tem-
ple in Jerusalem (cf. Ezra 8:25 and Num 8:14). The rationale given is the
priests’ sanctity, which allows them to carry the consecrated vessels (cf.
Ezra 8:28). Ezra 8:33–34 notes their proper handover to priests and Levites
in Jerusalem. Thus Ezra’s mission starts with great care about holy equip-
ment related to the temple that may illuminate the following narrative.
In Ezra 9:1, leaders in Jerusalem tell Ezra that the people of Israel as
well as priests and Levites have failed to separate themselves (‫בדל‬, niphal)
from the ‘peoples of the lands’ (‫)עמי הארצות‬. Their marriages with foreign

17 Cf. Hayes, Gentile Impurities, 27–34.

18 A similar position may be found in Isa 56. Although the text lacks any purity termi-
nology, it ‘plays’ with the term ‫בדל‬, also known from Ezra 6:21.
19 Cf. Neh 9:2; 10:29 and 13:3.
 the relevance of purity in second temple judaism 463

wives are seen as an offense against Israel’s state of holiness, as the ‘holy
seed’ (‫ )זרע הקדש‬had mingled (‫ )ערב‬with the ‘peoples of the lands’ (‫עמי‬
‫ ;הארצות‬cf. Ezra 9:2).
The (dis)qualification of the ‘peoples of the lands’ as impure (cf. Ezra
9:11) and their connection with abominations (‫תועבת‬, cf. Lev 18:22, 26,
27, 29, 30) should be regarded as one of the narrative’s main concerns.20
Ezra 9:14 even denotes them ‘peoples of these abominations’ (‫עמי התעבות‬
‫)האלה‬. The contact between them and Israel as a holy people—here
discussed in the context of marital relationship—is dangerous and pro-
hibited because it could profane the holy community through impurity,
disturbing its relation to the sanctuary and thus to YHWH. It would be
an unfaithful act against something holy to YHWH, as expressed several
times by the term ‫מעל‬.21
There are parallels between Ezra 6:21 and Ezra 9 but also several inco-
herent aspects to be noted. Both use the term ‫( בדל‬niphal) and deal with
separation from impurity (cf. Ezra 6:21 and 9:11) as well as the antagonism
between Golah-Israel and other groups (cf. Ezra 9:1). This combination is
otherwise unattested in the Hebrew Bible.
But whereas Ezra 6:21 uses ‫‘( גוי־הארץ‬nations of the land’)22 to denote
the out-group, Ezra 9 has ‫עמי הארצות‬.23 Whereas Ezra 9–10 seems to
build upon the term ‫עם־הארץ‬24 and broaden the group excluded from
the building of the temple in Ezra 4 via plural forms, Ezra 6:21 seems to
be closer to 2 Chr 32:13, 17, where the form ‫‘( גוי הארצות‬nations of the
lands’) is used.
Moreover, Ezra 9:11 uses not only the root ‫ טמא‬but also ‫( נדה‬twice) to
denote impurity.

20 The term is used 117 times in the Hebrew Bible to denote an abominable ethos,
mainly opposing YHWH (cf. Lev 18:26, 29, 30; Deut 18:9, 12; 20:18; 32:16; 2 Kgs 16:3; 21:2; Jer
2:7; 16:18; 44:22, and 43 occurrences in the book of Ezekiel; cf. also Ezra 9:11, 14). Cf. Preuß,
“‫”תועבה‬, 580–92.
21 Cf. Ezra 9:2, 4, 6; 10:2, 6, 10. ‫ מעל‬denotes a misdeed against humans (cf. Num 5:12; Lev
5:21) or against God (cf. Josh 7:1; Num 5:6; Lev 5:15; Ezek 14:13–20). In the book of Ezekiel,
it is used to express unfaithfulness against God; cf. Ezek 14:13–20. Milgrom deals with it in
combination with the term ‫אשם‬. See Milgrom, Leviticus, 345. According to Milgrom, ‫מעל‬
is “the legal term for the wrong that is redressed by the ’āšām” (for this notion cf. Lev 5:15,
21 and Num 5:6). Deut 32:51 has ‫ מעל‬as an antonym of holiness. For the threat to punish
the desecration of Israel, cf. Jer 3:2–3.
22 The phrase only occurs in Ezra 6:21.
23 ‘Peoples of the lands’, cf. Ezra 9:1, 2, 11; cf. also Ezra 10:2, 11 (‘peoples of the land’).
24 Cf. Ezra 4:4: ‘people of the land’—where probably the inhabitants of Samaria are
meant, as the reference in Ezra 4:2 indicates.
464 benedikt rausche

Whereas in Ezra 6:21 it is possible for a non-member of the Golah to

separate from the nations’ uncleanness and join the community of Golah-
Israel, in Ezra 9:11, 14, the peoples are connected with their impurity,
namely their ‘abhorrent practices’, in a way that leaves open no possibility
of getting rid of it. Thus Ezra 6:21 distinguishes between Golah-Israel and
those who fulfill the required purity norms, on one hand, and those who
do not fulfill them, on the other; but this difference requires a decision to
be made by individuals or groups.25
The borderline drawn by Ezra 9 seems to be of another kind. Ezra 9:11
states that YHWH had announced, through ‘his servants, the prophets’,
that the land taken over by Israel was a ‘land of uncleanness’ (‫)ארץ נדה‬
because of the peoples’ impurities (‫)נדת‬26 caused by ‘their abominations
(‫ )בתועבתיהם‬with which they filled up the land from one end to another
with their impurity (‫’)טמא‬.27 The ideology of purity appears concentrated
in this verse. In Ezra’s prayer (Ezra 9:6–15), it is the key to understanding
the necessity of the prohibition against mixed marriages.28 The peoples’
uncleanness has rendered the whole land unclean. Thus, a connection
between the uncleanness of the prohibited groups and the uncleanness
of the Canaanite peoples mentioned in Lev 18:24–27 is introduced here
(cf. the list in Ezra 9:1).29 The reference to ‘abominations’ mentioned in
Lev 18 disqualifies the people both ethically and cultically. Israel as ‘holy
seed’ has to separate from those peoples who are qualified not by holi-
ness but by abominations and impurity. Otherwise Israel will endanger
its existence in the land with the ‘holy place’, the sanctuary (cf. Ezra 9:8:

25 The legal status of those who had separated themselves and joined Golah-Israel is
not explicated further. Maybe this group is a kind of equivalent to the ‫גרים‬, the foreigners
dwelling in the midst of Israel, who are otherwise unattested in Ezra-Nehemiah. Cf. also
Blenkinsopp, Judaism, 141–42.
26 This term occurs in the Hebrew Bible 29 times in three different contexts: 1) impurity
by menstruation; 2) impurity in general; 3) purification. See Milgrom and Wright, “‫”נדה‬,
250–53.
27 See Milgrom, “Dynamics”, passim. Ritual impurity and holiness are incompatible. In
the book of Leviticus, the exclusion of someone impure from the Israelite camp is based
not necessarily on a notion of Israel as a holy people but on God’s presence in the camp
(cf., e.g., Num 5:2–3; in a temple-related context: Ezek 9:7).
For the sanctuary, cf. Ezek 5:11; 2 Chr 29:16.
28 Note the reference to the prohibition in Exod 34:15–16 and Deut 7:3 here as well as
in Ezra 9:1–2, which is expanded from a rationale based on denomination (foreign wives
lead to apostasy) to a rationale based on cultic ideology.
29 Cf. also Ezek 36:17, 25.
 the relevance of purity in second temple judaism 465

‫)מקום קדשו‬.30 Israel, defined by its Golah history several times in the Ezra
narrative (cf. Ezra 8:35; 9:4, 7; 10:6, 7, 8, 16), has to separate itself, just as the
priests do (cf. Ezra 8:24!), because of its relation to the sanctuary. The
identity of Israel is based on the self-definition of being returnees from
the Babylonian Golah as well as being a group gathered around the
sanctuary participating in its holiness. Those who do not belong to this
community by birth are prohibited from entering, e.g., through marital
relationships. The only solution for the ‘problem’ of mixed marriages then
is to expel foreign wives (cf. Ezra 10), who would have been a steady source
of impurity. The cultic sin (‫ )מעל‬against the holiness of Israel, which has
been profaned by the entry of the peoples’ impurity, has to be treated with
an ‫אשם‬-sacrifice, described in Lev 5:14–19 (cf. Ezra 10:19).
An interesting hypothesis has been added to the discussion by David
Janzen, who observes an analogy with the separation of Israel anticipated
in Ezra 9 and Lev 15:31.31 This reference could be strengthened by noting
Ezra 9:14, in which Ezra expresses his fear that mixed marriages could
even lead to the extinction of the rest of Israel. Lev 15:31 sees uncleanness
as deadly dangerous for Israel, too, as it would defile God’s dwelling place
in the midst of his people. The problem in Ezra 9–10 would be frequent
contamination of the community and thus the danger that the sanctu-
ary would come into contact with impurity. Janzen supports his theory
with reference to Jacob Milgrom, who states that holiness and impurity
are opposing terms.32 A sanctuary-centered community that imposes spe-
cial restrictions on itself could by no means tolerate the ‘infiltration’ by
persons/groups regarded as unclean. This explains the emphatic ending
of Ezra’s prayer (cf. 9:14–15) very well.
In opposition to Ezra 6:21, impurity is not reversible for outsiders in
Ezra 9. As Ezra 6:19–22 seems to be close to Chronicles, a late dating is
to be supposed. The verse therefore has to be seen as a late correction of
implications that could be deduced from Ezra 9–10. Arguing for the oppo-
site direction of dependence would make it quite awkward for Ezra 9–10
to deal at such great length with the case and not talk about the Passover,
focusing instead only on mixed marriages as a threat to Israelite existence

30 Note that living in the presence of ‘his holy place’ is seen as an act of divine mercy
in the Ezra prayer.
31 Janzen, Witch-hunts, 40–41.
32 For Janzen’s argument, see in detail Janzen, Witch-hunts, 54–83; 114–15. For Milgrom’s
thesis, cf. Milgrom, “Dynamics”.
466 benedikt rausche

within the land.33 The peoples in Ezra 6:21 are able to separate themselves
from their impurities, whereas in Ezra 9–10 the only possible outcome is
separation from the peoples as a whole.34
But Ezra 6:19–22 does not correct the view on mixed marriages. It is
focused on the celebration of the Passover. Thus, an ideal picture of this
feast is drawn in accordance with the Torah, where even foreigners are
allowed to attend the Passover (Num 9:14). Exod 12:48 connects permis-
sion to take part in the feast with circumcision.35 In Ezra 6:21, permission
to attend is connected to purity because the identity marker par excel-
lence is the temple. Circumcision probably was not useful for establish-
ing clear boundaries here, as other groups surrounding the Golah-Judeans
practiced it, too.36
A strict exegesis of Ezra 9–10 would also have prohibited the inclu-
sion of foreigners from the cultic community celebrating the Passover,
as the chapters argue in favor of radical separation. Ezra 6:21 does not
necessarily deny the separation of Golah-Israel, centered on the temple,
from the others, but it permits other groups to join the cult if they ful-
fill specific purity requirements and are willing to seek the God of Israel.
They remain a separate group but are not totally excluded from the cult.
Perhaps Ezra 6:21 intends to fill a gap within the conceptual world of Ezra-
Nehemiah: In contrast to the Torah, the composition does not discuss
possible legitimate status of a resident alien, a ‫גר‬, within Israel. Although
no legal consequences are drawn from Ezra 6:21, the creative application
of purity ideology in this verse probably allows a conditioned integration
analogous to pentateuchal law.
Ezra 6:21 reveals a theological reflection that goes beyond Ezra 9–10,
where purity ideology is the vehicle in an elaborate attempt to secure the
identity of the Golah group on the contentious issue of marital relation-
ships. In both cases, postexilic identity appears to be centered on temple
and cult. Both arguments aim at conformity with Torah by employing

33 Contra Grätz, Edikt, 57–58. Cf. Pakkala, Ezra, 69–73.

34 The different terms used for denoting the out-group also argue for post-dating Ezra
6:21. Otherwise one would have to explain why it is not taken up in Ezra 9–10. The usage
in Ezra 6:21, on the other hand, is explicable by reference to dependence on 2 Chr 30.
35 This seems to be in line with the attitude of Neh 10:29, a clearly late part of the com-
position that is dependent on the Ezra material.
36 Ezek 44:7 refers to circumcision in the context of the forbidden access of foreigners
to the temple but does not discuss the possibility that the foreigners could be willing to be
circumcised. Isa 56:1–8 seems to be closer to Ezra 6:21: The foreigner who observes Shabbat
and is willing to adhere to God’s covenant is not separated (‫ )בדל‬from the people of God
but included. He even has access to the temple (cf. Isa 56:7).
 the relevance of purity in second temple judaism 467

purity ideology for their interest, but they come to different conclusions
about the question of inclusion or exclusion. In both cases the moral and
the ritual meaning of purity is relevant. Neither dimension can be divided
in voting for one specification of purity against the other.

5. Nehemiah and Purity

If the building of the temple is the central topic of Ezra 1–10, then cer-
tainly the restoration of the walls of Jerusalem is central to the Nehemiah
section. This does not just denote a functional act in order to defend the
city. In Neh 11:1, 18, Jerusalem is called ‘the holy city’ (‫)עיר הקדש‬, and
Neh 12:27–43 describe the wall’s consecration in cultic terms. In Neh 12:30,
the priests and the Levites purify themselves (‫ )ויטהרו‬before they purify
the people and, uniquely in the OT, the gates and the walls of the city,
too. Jerusalem, which contains the sanctuary and the people living within
the city, has to be in a state of purity similar to the priests. This short
observation reveals an analogy with the Ezra part of the composition: In
both cases, the holiness of the sanctuary is expanded and thus requires an
expanded obedience to purity restrictions.
Neh 12:45 then notes, within a list of priestly duties (12:44–47), the
‘charge of purity’ (‫ )ומשמרת הטהרה‬as part of the priests’ and Levites’
duties. It is paralleled by the ‘charge of their god’. The two phrases seem
to describe the priestly and Levite duties as a whole. After the report of
the dedication of the wall, the priests and the Levites are said to be fulfill-
ing their duties in an ideal way, explicitly mentioning the care taken over
purity. The liturgically organized dedication of the wall is supplemented
by the picture of the ideally operating cult personnel, stressing the rel-
evance of purity.
In Neh 13 the topic of exclusion of foreign influence appears again in
relation to purity terminology. In Neh 13:4–9 Tobiah, one of Nehemiah’s
notorious enemies and at several points representative of dangerous
foreign influence37—he is normally referred to as ‘the Ammonite’38—is
given a room within the temple by the high priest Eliashib. Ironically,
Tobiah is also called a relative of Eliashib (cf. 13:4). The room had been
storage for temple equipment before. Nehemiah regards this act as ‘evil’

37 Cf. Neh 2:10, 19; 3:35; 4:1; 6:1, 12, 14, 17–19.
38 Note that Ammonites are to be excluded from the community according to Deut
23:4–9, which is adopted in the late addition of Neh 13:1–3.
468 benedikt rausche

(cf. 13:7) and forces Tobiah to leave, taking his possessions with him. In
13:9 he then orders that the rooms of the temple be purified (‫)ויטהרו‬. This
action certainly aims in several directions:
First of all, Tobiah, a Yahwist by name, is treated like a foreigner and
excluded from the Judean community. Nehemiah’s view of the postex-
ilic community clearly aims at a distinct Judean identity, contrasted by
his enemies who are often (dis)qualified by different ethnonyms.39 When
a room Tobiah had used is to be purified, his presence is regarded as a
source of impurity. He is not allowed to participate in the temple cult and
therefore has no share in the postexilic community defined by its relation
to the sanctuary.
Second, it is not enough to purify only the room used by Tobiah, but
several rooms must be purified, as the Masoretic Text states in 13:9.40 In
consequence, the mere presence of a foreigner casts an intolerable impu-
rity on the sanctuary. This impurity is not necessarily bound to Tobiah’s
foreignness but more likely derives from the illegitimate usage of rooms
within the temple by an unauthorized person. Thus the purification of
more than one room could point to doubts as to Eliashib’s competence
regarding purity in general, rather than at a contagious gentile impurity.
The text criticizes the high priest for allowing foreign influence to cause
impurity via unauthorized presence within the temple. Moral and ritual
dimensions of impurity are intermingled here, as the unacceptable pres-
ence in the temple seems to be a moral misdeed that affects the rooms of
the sanctuary ritually (cf. the purification ordered by Nehemiah). The high
priest is shown to be incompetent in his métier of distinguishing between
pure and impure (cf. Lev 10:10–11; Neh 12:45). Nehemiah has to correct him
in the central sphere of priestly authority.
According to Saul Olyan, the story of Neh 13:4–9 represents an idea
of impurity deriving from an older priestly tradition of ritual impurity.41
In Olyan’s view, the notice about Nehemiah ordering the purification of
the temple’s chambers after the expulsion of Tobiah points to an attitude
against foreigners that regards them as ritually impure. Thus Tobiah him-
self, not his unacceptable presence or use of a room, would have to be

39 Cf. the frequent occurrence of the term ‫( יהודי‬Neh 1:2; 2:16; 3:33–34; 4:6; 5:1, 8, 17; 6:6;
13:23)—a clear difference from Ezra. See also Karrer, Verfassung, 81; 147–61.
40 Many translations render the plural into a singular, following the Septuagint. But this
is not necessary. The Masoretic text provides the lectio difficilior.
41 Cf. Olyan, “Purity Ideology”, 10–12.
 the relevance of purity in second temple judaism 469

seen as a source of ritual impurity.42 This is a possible conclusion, too, but

the problem of impurity is not directly related to foreignness in the text.43
Thus, it still remains more plausible that the problem is an unauthorized
person using the temple and storing unauthorized items in it. Foreigners
would not be said to be ritually impure in that case, but Nehemiah’s
foreign enemy would be depicted as defiling the sanctuary through his
actions.
In Rainer Albertz’s view, Nehemiah excludes notorious enemies from
the province of Yehûd via the polar opposites pure/impure.44 While
Tobiah is attacked directly, the priest is challenged indirectly. Beneath the
political implications stated by Albertz, Neh 13:4–9 implicitly represents a
mistrust of foreigners entering the sanctuary.45
In Neh 13:23–29, Nehemiah has to end the same mechanism of for-
eign influence as in Ezra 9–10: mixed marriages. Nehemiah first criticizes
Judean men who had married foreign wives, because their children did
not learn to speak ‘‫’יהודית‬46 properly (cf. Neh 13:23–24).47 Thereupon
Nehemiah refers to biblical traditions prohibiting mixed marriages, such
as Deut 7:3; Exod 34:15–16 (Neh 13:25) and the traditions about Solomon’s
foreign wives (Neh 13:26; cf. 1 Kgs 11:1–13). For Nehemiah those marriages
are an unfaithful act (cf. ‫ מעל‬in Neh 13:27). The precise nature of the
offense in Neh 13:27 cannot be specified. From the context of ch. 13, with
its activities to secure temple and cult, it is possible to understand mixed
marriages, denoted as ‫מעל‬, as an offense against the sanctuary, even when
only lay people are involved. But as there is no act of atonement men-
tioned and Nehemiah does not seek a solution with the same urgency
as Ezra, the root may imply only a general offense against God. Thus an

42 Cf. Olyan, “Purity Ideology”, 11.

43 In Neh 13:4–9, Tobiah is not explicitly called ‘the Ammonite’.
44 See Albertz, “Purity Strategies”, 203–4. Blenkinsopp sees “Nehemiah’s specific contri-
bution (. . .) in the application of ritual principles to politics”; cf. Blenkinsopp, Judaism, 143.
45 Not only must the holy place be defended against foreign influence, but Shabbat
as holy time is under attack by the action of Tyrian traders, too (Neh 13:15–22). Trade on
Shabbat is a profanation of the holy day (cf. Neh 13:17, 18; see also Neh 10:32), which Nehe-
miah wants to stop immediately. The traders are forced to stay out on Shabbat. In 13:22 he
asks the Levites to purify themselves (‫ )מטהרים‬and to guard the gates in order to sanctify
Shabbat (‫)לקדש את־יום השבת‬. Blenkinsopp observes an amplification of the Levitical
charge to guard the sanctuary here; cf. Blenkinsopp, Ezra-Nehemiah, 361.
46 Certainly Hebrew is meant; cf. Williamson, Ezra, Nehemiah, 397.
47 In consequence they would not be able to participate in the cult. But the differences
between ‘Ashdodit’ and ‘Yehudit’ should not be overestimated; cf. Kottsieper, Yehudit,
100–101.
470 benedikt rausche

ideology that sees Israel’s existence in the land as endangered by contact

between holiness and impurity cannot be detected here.
In Neh 13:28–30 purity is clearly at stake. A grandson of Eliashib has
married a daughter of Sanballat (cf. Neh 13:28).48 Nehemiah’s reaction is
to expel the couple. Perhaps both families had in mind a cross-border
alliance (cf. Neh 6:18), or perhaps they did not even recognize a border
between their families. Though he had only criticized those lay people
who had married foreign wives, not taking official steps against those mar-
riages, Nehemiah is not willing to tolerate this case.
In Neh 13:29 we find Nehemiah pleading to God to remember ‘them’
(‫)להם‬. This remembrance would, of course, not be a positive one, as it is
a result of ‘their’ pollution (‫ )גאל‬of “the priesthood and of the covenant of
the priesthood and the Levites”. Here ‫ גאל‬is used again, probably in rela-
tion to the mixed-marriage crisis narrated before but perhaps including
Neh 13:4–9, too, as Eliashib—and therefore the main representative of the
priesthood—is involved both times.
Neh 13:29 calls for the rejection of the marriages not by, for example,
explicitly citing the restrictions for priests given in Lev 21:7, 13–15 but by
accusing them of having polluted the covenant of the priesthood and the
Levites. Perhaps this refers to the covenant of Levi known from Mal 2:1–9,
which the priests are said to have broken (cf. Mal 2:8). This allusion is situ-
ated in a context of prophetic criticism of mixed marriages. If Judah is said
to have desecrated the sanctuary of YHWH by marrying “the daughter of a
foreign god” (cf. Mal 2:11), it is the priests’ failure for not having prevented
such an act.49
Again, it is not clear that ‫ גאל‬refers to pollution in a ritual sense, and
at any rate it seems that the priests’ misbehavior is responsible, not the
impurity of foreigners. There seems to be an analogy between Neh 13:28–
30 and the list of returnees in Ezra 2/Neh 7 terminologically as well as
thematically: The term ‫ גאל‬is used in the context of preventing priestly
families from bringing potential foreign influences into the province in
both texts. But there are also differences, as in the list normal priestly
families are at the center of attention, while Nehemiah deals with the
high priest’s family. Contrary to Neh 13:28–30, Ezra 2/Neh 7 mentions

48 For possible historical backgrounds cf. Wright, Rebuilding Identity, 261–67; Knoppers,
“Nehemiah and Sanballat”.
49 Cf. the idealized figure of Phineas in Num 25 as well as the violent reaction of Levi
to the rape of Dinah and the Shechemite proposal to intermarry. For a detailed analysis of
the relation between Neh 13:29 and Num 25, see Frevel, “Bund”.
 the relevance of purity in second temple judaism 471

neither expulsion nor purification, as no pollution of the priesthood itself

is reported.
Nehemiah broadens the prohibition of exogamy for the high priest
(cf. Lev 21:14–15), at least to the high priest’s family. This seems to be in
line with the tendency of Ezek 44:22, where exogamy is prohibited for
all the priests.50 ‫ גאל‬is perhaps best translated as ‘contempt’ here, simi-
larly to Ezra 2:62/Neh 7:64. Eliashib and others disrespected the priestly
duties that the author of Neh 13 regarded as important. This is the second
time that Eliashib is challenged by Nehemiah in the field of purity and
therefore in his priestly competence. Neh 13 in general casts doubts on
the competence of the priests concerning purity, holiness and the obser-
vance of Shabbat. It therefore has similarities to the book of Ezekiel (cf.
e.g. Ezek 7:26 and 22:26) on this level, too.51
Neh 13:30 reports that Nehemiah had purified (‫‘ )טהרתים‬them’ from
everything foreign (‫)מכל־נכר‬. To whom exactly that refers is not entirely
clear, but the following allusion, which specifies Nehemiah’s actions for
priests and Levites, suggests that the ‘Yehudim’ in general are meant.
Foreign influence is regarded as a source of impurity. Neh 13:30 probably
refers not only to 13:28–29 but to the whole chapter, mainly dealing with
foreign presence and its consequences. The mention of purification aims
not at gentile impurity applied to Israel but at foreign presence within
postexilic Yehûd, especially at the cultic nerve-center of the sanctuary (or
the sacred time of Shabbat). According to Neh 13:4–30, impurity occurs
when foreigners are in the wrong place at the wrong time. Their unau-
thorized presence in or close to the sanctuary or its personnel can cause
pollution, which endangers the community as a whole. Thus, access to
the cult is limited and people denoted non-Judeans are excluded from the
inner circle of power in the province, which is represented by the cult as
the core of Judean identity.
Christine Hayes tries to explain the relationship between foreigners,
impurity and exclusion with the label ‘genealogical impurity’.52 This
means that gentiles themselves are not impure, but rather the mixing
of holy and profane seed produces profane or, in the case of priests,
impure descendants. Purification would mean the prevention of such

50 Neh 13:4–9 seems to be close to Ezek 44, too: entrance into the sanctuary is limited to
Levites and Zadokite priests there (cf. Ezek 44:7–16; v. 7 deals with the forbidden presence
of foreigners in the sanctuary as a violation of the covenant).
51 See Blenkinsopp, Judaism, 145–46.
52 Cf. Hayes, Gentile Impurities, 28–29.
472 benedikt rausche

descendants.53 That kind of impurity would establish a strict boundary

between ‘in’ and ‘out’.
Saul Olyan observes a combination of the idea of moral impurity (cf.
the references to Lev 18 and 20) with marital restrictions for the priests
(cf. Lev 21:7, 13–15; Ezek 44:22) in Neh 13. Whereas Ezra 9 was concerned
with the desecration of the holy, here defilement would be the problem.
Olyan agrees with Hayes that mixed marriages in Neh 13:28–30 pollute the
priestly genealogy.
Contra Hayes and Olyan, it seems questionable that the text deals with
genealogical impurity. Nothing is said about the children of mixed mar-
riage in the high priest’s family. Instead, the covenant of the priesthood
and the Levites is at stake. Purity is endangered by a lack of boundaries
protecting the sanctuary from foreign influence. From the point of view
of Neh 13, mixed marriages of priests are intolerable because priests are
in contact with and thus have to protect the sanctuary; in contrast, lay
persons are only criticized for mixed marriages.
The texts in Neh 13 deal with the limitation of access to the sphere
of holiness rather than consequences for the high-priestly genealogy. The
pattern of identity is clear: It includes only those belonging to the in-
group, who are defined as Judeans by Nehemiah.
Purity terminology is used in Neh 13 differently than it is in Ezra 9:11, as it
does not refer to a danger to the holiness of Israel as a people. The priests,
and especially Eliashib, are criticized here, for they have not defended the
sanctuary, the core of Judean identity, from non-Judean influence. The
aim is to declare Nehemiah’s enemies incompatible with the center of
postexilic life, and the priests in charge incompetent.

6. Summary and Conclusions

Ezra-Nehemiah does not represent a totally unified system of purity.54 But

the idea of an expansion of holiness beyond the sanctuary, to the people
as well as to the city of Jerusalem in general, is the base upon which dif-
ferent notions of purity depend. The centrality of the sanctuary and the
protection that this center of identity needs must be seen as rationales
for the discourse on exclusion and inclusion in Ezra-Nehemiah, but the

53 Cf. Hayes, Gentile Impurities, 28.

54 Pace Harrington, Holiness and Purity, 115–16.
 the relevance of purity in second temple judaism 473

conclusions are as different as the circles engaged in the process of the

literary development of Ezra-Nehemiah.
For Neh 13:4–9, 28–30, it must be noted that the moral aspect is central
to the pollution of the priestly covenant that disqualifies the temple estab-
lishment. Most likely a political-religious conflict lies in the background
here. Another aim is to show certain groups of non-residents in Yehûd to
be untrustworthy regarding the center of Judean identity, which at the
same time is the center of power. This is done not by reference to an imma-
nent ritual or a genealogical impurity but by showing contact between
outsiders and the cult to be inadequate: A foreigner uses a room of the
temple illegitimately, provoking a cultic misdeed; mixed marriages vio-
late the commandments of the Torah, too—for lay persons (cf. Neh 13:25)
as well as, especially, for the high priest’s family (cf. Lev 21:14). The mari-
tal relationships represent an illegitimate contact between the sanctuary,
represented by its personnel, and foreign influence.
Through the idea of extended holiness, new questions concerning the
correct behavior of the holy people emerge. Ezra 9–10 answers them with
a radical, exclusivist position linking those denoted foreigners with impu-
rity, which then, although described in ethical terms, appears to be a kind
of immanent impurity, oscillating between ritual and moral connotations.
It is important to note that we are not on a one-way road to exclusivism
here, as can be seen in Ezra 6:21, where it is possible for foreigners to sepa-
rate from impurity. The concepts of postexilic community were shifting
between an exclusivist Golah identity, an ethnic Judean identity and more
inclusivist concepts. The prevalent and common core of Judean identity
for all these concepts remains the sanctuary as well as the importance of
purity.
Joseph Blenkinsopp observes a “policy of ritual ethnicity”55 in Ezra-
Nehemiah based on the temple law in Ezek 44. Its train of thought would
have been as follows:
Since the political community is also, and essentially, a cult community,
participation in the cult is an essential condition for membership. But if
those of foreign descent are forbidden entry to the temple, they cannot
participate in the cult and are thereby excluded from membership in the
community.56

55 Blenkinsopp, Judaism, 144. On the relationship between the ideology of Ezra-

Nehemiah and the book of Ezekiel, cf. 133–59.
56 Blenkinsopp, Judaism, 144–45.
474 benedikt rausche

The community would constitute itself by its relation to the sanctuary—

and foreigners, qualified as inadequate for this relationship, could not be
part of it. The ideology observed by Blenkinsopp cannot be found explic-
itly throughout the whole composition of Ezra-Nehemiah. Ezra 6:21 seems
to go in another direction and Neh 13 mainly deals with the inner circle
of political and religious power (cf. the lax treatment of mixed marriages
by lay people). Nevertheless, Blenkinsopp’s summary fits the position
expressed by Ezra 9–10 very well.
The question of purity and impurity, exclusion and inclusion, is always
related to the holiness of the temple. Purity ideologies remain crucial for
the definition of postexilic community according to Ezra-Nehemiah, in so
far as they regulate legitimate access to the center of identity.

Bibliography

Albertz, Rainer. “Purity Strategies and Political Interests in the Policy of Nehemiah”. Pages
199–206 in Confronting the Past: Archaeological and Historical Essays on Ancient Israel
in Honor of William G. Dever. Edited by S. Gitin, J. E. Wright and J. P. Dessel. Winona
Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2006.
Blenkinsopp, Joseph. Judaism: The First Phase: The Place of Ezra-Nehemiah in the Origins of
Judaism. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2009.
——. Ezra-Nehemiah: A Commentary. Old Testament Library. London: SCM Press, 1989.
Boda, Mark J., and Paul L. Reddit, eds. Unity and Disunity in Ezra-Nehemiah: Redaction,
Rhetoric and Reader. Hebrew Monographs 17. Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix Press, 2008.
Botterweck, Johannes G., Helmer Ringgren, and Hans-Joachim Fabry, eds. Theologisches
Wörterbuch zum Alten Testament (ThWAT). 10 vols. Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1973–2001.
Eskenazi, Tamara. In an Age of Prose: A Literary Approach to Ezra-Nehemiah. Society of
Biblical Literature Monograph Series 36. Atlanta, Ga.: Society of Biblical Literature,
1988.
Frevel, Christian. “ ‘Mein Bund mit ihm war das Leben und der Friede’. Priesterbund und
Mischehenfrage”. Pages 85–93 in Für immer verbündet: Studien zur Bundestheologie
der Bibel. Stuttgarter Bibelstudien 211. Edited by C. Dohmen and C. Frevel. Stuttgart:
Katholisches Bibelwerk, 2007.
Glazier-McDonald, Beth. Malachi: The Divine Messenger. Society of Biblical Literature
Dissertation Series 98. Atlanta, Ga.: Scholars Press, 1987.
Grabbe, Lester L. Ezra-Nehemiah. Old Testament Readings. London: Routledge, 1998.
Grätz, Sebastian. Das Edikt des Artaxerxes: Eine Untersuchung zum religionspolitischen und
historischen Umfeld von Esra 7,12–26. Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche
Wissenschaft 337. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2004.
Harrington, Hannah K. “Holiness and Purity in Ezra-Nehemiah”. Pages 98–116 in Unity and
Disunity in Ezra-Nehemiah: Redaction, Rhetoric and Reader. Hebrew Monographs 17.
Edited by M. J. Boda and P. L. Reddit. Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix, 2008.
Hayes, Christine. Gentile Impurities and Jewish Identities: Intermarriage and Conversion
from the Bible to the Talmud. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002.
Janzen, David. Witch-hunts: Purity and Social Boundaries. The Expulsion of the Foreign
Women in Ezra 9–10. Journal for the Study of the Old Testament: Supplement Series
350. London: Sheffield Academic Press, 2002.
 the relevance of purity in second temple judaism 475

Karrer, Christiane. Ringen um die Verfassung Judas. Eine Studie zu den theologisch-poli-
tischen Vorstellungen im Esra-Nehemia-Buch. Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die alttesta-
mentliche Wissenschaft 308. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2001.
Klawans, Jonathan. Impurity and Sin in Ancient Judaism. Oxford: Oxford University Press,
2000.
Knoppers, Gary N. “Nehemiah and Sanballat: The Enemy Without or Within?” Pages
305–31 in Judah and the Judeans in the Fourth Century B.C.E. Edited by O. Lipschits and
R. Achenbach. Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns, 2007.
Kottsieper, Ingo, “ ‘And They Did Not Care to Speak Yehudit’: On Linguistic Change in
Judah During the Late Persian Era”. Pages 95–124 in Judah and the Judeans in the Fourth
Century B.C.E. Edited by O. Lipschits and R. Achenbach. Winona Lake, Ind.: Eisenbrauns,
2007.
Milgrom, Jacob. “The Dynamics of Purity in the Priestly System”. Pages 29–32 in Purity and
Holiness. The Heritage of Leviticus. Jewish and Christian Perspective Series 2. Edited by
M. J. H. M. Poorthuis and J. Schwartz. Leiden: Brill, 2000.
——. Leviticus 1–16. A new Translation with Introduction and Commentary. The Anchor
Bible 3. New York: Doubleday, 1991.
Olyan, Saul M. “Purity Ideology in Ezra-Nehemiah as a Tool to Reconstitute the Community”.
Journal for the Study of Judaism 35 (2004): 1–16.
Pakkala, Juha. Ezra the Scribe: The Development of Ezra 7–10 and Nehemia 8. Beihefte zur
Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 347. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2004.
Reddit, Paul. Haggai, Zechariah and Malachi. New Century Bible Commentary 13, 10–12.
Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1994.
Steins, Georg. “Die Bücher Esra und Nehemia”. Pages 263–77 in Einleitung in das Alte
Testament: Mit einem Grundriss der Geschichte Israels von Christian Frevel. Rev. and enl.
7d ed. Edited by E. Zenger. Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 2008.
VanderKam, James C. “Ezra-Nehemiah or Ezra and Nehemiah?” Pages 60–80 in
J. C. VanderKam. From Revelation to Canon: Studies in the Hebrew Bible and Second
Temple Literature. Supplements to the Journal for the Study of Judaism 62. Leiden: Brill,
2000.
Williamson, Hugh G. M.: Ezra, Nehemiah. World Biblical Commentary 16. Waco, Tex.:
Word Books Publisher, 1985.
Wright, Jacob. Rebuilding Identity: The Nehemiah-Memoir and its Earliest Readers. Beihefte
zur Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 348. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2004.
 PURITY CONCEPTS IN JEWISH TRADITIONS OF THE
HELLENISTIC PERIOD*

Beate Ego

Whereas biblical, rabbinical and comparative religious studies have dealt

extensively with the topic of ‘purity’, this research discourse has only
been reviewed to a minor extent in reference to the Hellenistic period
of ancient Judaism. In this context, the main interest of such research
focuses on the purity concepts of a number of literary works from this
period, such as the book of Jubilees,1 the oeuvres of Philo2 and Josephus3
and the Qumran literature.4 Focus is also placed on such issues as the
moral aspect of purity5 or the relationship between purity and the temple.6
Usually, Apocrypha and Pseudepigrapha are covered in a few sentences
in the relevant articles and surveys. What is still lacking is a comprehen-
sive overview of early Jewish purity discourses, their developments and
mutual references.
There are several reasons for this virtual ‘white spot’ in research into
the purity discourse of ancient Judaism. The first reason is related to the
subject matter itself, since it is rather difficult to access the relevant mate-
rial. Unlike biblical tradition and rabbinical literature, the Apocrypha
and Pseudepigrapha, which together with the Dead Sea Scrolls must be
regarded as the most important sources of ancient Judaism in Hellenistic
times, do not contain a separate ‘purity Halakha’; instead, recourse to the
topic of purity takes place en passant in the narrative context. Very often,

* I would like to thank Ms Judith Spangenberg for translating the text.

1 Cf. Döring, “Purity and Impurity”; Hayes, “Intermarriage and Impurity”; Himmelfarb,
“Sexual Relations”; Milgrom, “Concept of Impurity”; Ravid, “Purity and Impurity”; Regev,
“Pure Individualism”; VanderKam, “Viewed from Another Angle”; Werman, “Concept of
Holiness”.
2 Rhodes, “Diet and Desire”.
3 Castelli, “Josephan Halakhah”.
4 Concerning the traditions of Qumran, cf. the contribution by Gudrun Holtz in this
volume, 519–36.
5 Cf. Klawans, Impurity and Sin. A critical discussion with Klawans can be found in
Haber, “They Shall Purify”, 40–46.
6 Neusner, Idea of Purity. A critical discussion with Neusner can be found in Haber,
“They Shall Purify”, 31–40.
478 beate ego

these texts only implicitly refer to the theme of purity, without using the
relevant terminology.7
Besides these difficulties, research itself is also responsible for the current
situation: the occasional claim that we only encounter an unoriginal and
epigonic extension of the Hebrew Bible’s purity discourse in the Apocrypha
and Pseudepigrapha8 denies every diachronic development between bibli-
cal traditions and early Jewish texts of Hellenistic times. Accordingly, little
interest in this theme is aroused and no analysis is initiated.
In the following, I would like to stress that such a view of early Jewish
purity discourse is a misjudgment. On the basis of three exemplary tradi-
tions from Hellenistic times, I will show that purity discourses are appar-
ent in non-biblical ancient Judaism. Indeed, some such purity discourses
can claim originality and creativity and therefore go beyond the Hebrew
Bible’s concepts of purity.

1. The Narration of the Fall of the Angels in the Book

of the Watchers (1 En. 6–16)

The story of the watchers in 1 En. 6–16 plays a prominent role in Jewish
texts from the Hellenistic Period that deal with the themes of ‘purity’ and
‘impurity’.9 This tradition, being an interpretation of Gen 6:1–4,10 belongs

7 An example from the Tobit tradition: the statements that old Tobit stays away from
the meals of the Gentiles (Tob 1:10–11) and washes himself after burying the dead (Tob 2:9)
need to be seen in the context of the concepts of dietary law and impurity caused by the
dead. However, it goes without saying that the corresponding terms cannot be found. The
situation is similar for the figure of the demon Asmodeus, who kills Sara’s husbands. As
I have pointed out elsewhere, he can be understood as a symbolization of the alien; the
conflict with the demon needs to be interpreted against the background of the endogamy
commandment; cf. Ego, “Rolle des Dämons”, 309–17.
8 Wandrey, “Rein und unrein”, 245; Wandrey, “Reinigung”, 252; Goldenberg, “Reinheit”,
483–87.
9 There are many publications on this text. Concerning the text tradition, cf. Black,
Apocalypsis Henochi; Knibb, The Ethiopic Book; Milik, Books of Enoch; Uhlig, Äthiopisches
Henochbuch. Important studies include: Bartelmus, Heroentum; Bedenbender, Gott der
Welt; Black, Book of Enoch; Collins, Apocalyptic Imagination; Collins, “Apocalyptic Tech-
nique”; Dimant, “1 Enoch 6–11”; Hanson, “Rebellion in Heaven”; Losekam, Sünde der Engel;
Newsom, “Development”; Nickelsburg, “Apocalyptic and Myth”; Nickelsburg, 1 Enoch; Reed,
“The Trickery of the Fallen Angels”; Stuckenbruck, “The Origins of Evil”; Suter, “Fallen
Angel”; an excellent research overview of the different works can be found in Wright, Ori-
gin, 11–50.
10 This is the opinion of most researchers; however, cf. Witte, Urgeschichte, 293–97, who
defines the relationship between Gen 6:1–4 and 1 En. 6–19 as a literary coexistence and
assumes that both texts have a common source.
purity concepts in jewish traditions of the hellenistic period 479

to the earliest parts of the Ethiopian Enoch. According to J. T. Milik, who

edited this tradition’s Aramaic fragments from Qumran, this text dates
back to the end of the 3rd or to the early 2nd century.11
As already pointed out, the story of the watchers has undergone multi-
stage growth: An older layer, the so-called Shemihazah myth, was con-
nected secondarily with a kind of Jewish Prometheus myth. This myth
states that divine beings had illegally shared their knowledge of different
cultural achievements with humans. This tradition was then linked to the
Enoch tradition.12
A closer examination reveals that the theme of impurity plays a central
role in this tradition. The Shemihazah myth tells of angels who desire the
beautiful daughters of man and who wish to father children with them.
With this aim in mind, a group of 200 angels, headed by Shemihazah,
descended to earth to mix with the daughters of man. Whereas at this
point Ethiopian Enoch says that the watchers had ‘mixed’ (tadammaru)
with the women, the Greek Panopolitanus and Syncellus state that the
angels had ‘defiled’ themselves (µιαίνεσθαι ἐν αὐταῖς; 7:1). The women
become pregnant and give birth to giants, leading to a time of chaos and
disaster: The world and man are no longer able to feed these giants. Thus,
the text states:
4 And the giants began to kill men and to devour them. 5 And they began
to sin against the birds and beasts and creeping things and the fish, and
to devour one another’s flesh. And they drank the blood. 6 Then the earth
brought accusation against the lawless ones. (1 En. 7:4–6)13
The motif of angels sharing the knowledge and skills reserved for the celes-
tial world with man is integrated into this tradition by stating that the
angels taught man how to enchant and how to cut roots and plants (8:3).
They also disclosed to man information about manufacturing weapons,
metal working, make-up and astronomy (8:1).
Man’s complaint about the giants’ acts of violence is brought before God
through the angels Michael, Uriel, Raphael and Gabriel; it then becomes
apparent that the watchers’ sin is their defilement.

11 Concerning the dating, cf. Milik, Books of Enoch, 24–25; cf. also the overview in
Wright, Origin, 23–28.
12 Concerning the literary criticism, cf. Nickelsburg, 1 Enoch, 191–93; cf. also Newsom,
“Development”, 310–29, and the overview in Wright, Origin, 29–37.
13 Quoted according to the translation by Nickelsburg, 1 Enoch, 182.
480 beate ego

8 They have gone in to the daughters of the men of earth, and they have
lain with them, and have defiled themselves with the women. And they have
revealed to them all sins, and have taught them to make hate-producing
charms. 9 And now behold, the daughters of men have borne sons from
them, giants, half-breeds (9:8–9).14
Eventually, God announces the angels’ punishment: Asaryalyur is ordered
to announce the flood to Noah to enable him and his family to escape.
In contrast, Raphael is instructed to tell Asa’el, who was instrumental in
imparting the secrets, that he will be abandoned in the desert until he
meets his death in the burning heat on Judgment Day. The earth, how-
ever, should be healed (1 En. 10:4–8). Gabriel again is sent to the “bastards,
the half-breeds, to the sons of miscegenation” (10:9); he shall drag the
children of the watchers into war against each other so that they will be
destroyed (1 En. 10:9–10). Finally, it is Michael’s task to let Shemihazah and
the other watchers know that they will perish because they united them-
selves with women and “defiled themselves in their uncleanness” (10:11).15
After being bound for 70 generations, they shall be burnt on Judgment
Day (1 En. 10:12ff.). Then the beginning of a new era will follow, for Michael
shall destroy all acts of violence on the earth’s surface so that justice and
truth will rule and God will bless the earth (1 En. 10:16–11:2).
In a subsequent Enoch tradition, 1 En. 12–16, Enoch must announce the
judgment to the watchers because they “forsook the highest heaven, the
sanctuary of the(ir) eternal station, and defiled themselves with woman”
(12:4).16 The watchers react to Enoch’s words by asking him to provide
intercession for them before God. Enoch therefore ascends before God’s
heavenly throne; however, the divine judgment is confirmed. Here again,
the accusation of defilement plays a significant role:
3 Why have you forsaken the high heaven, the eternal sanctuary; and lain
with women, and defiled yourselves with the daughters of men; and taken
for yourselves wives, and done as the sons of earth; and begotten for your-
selves sons, giants? 4 You were holy ones and spirits, living forever. With the
blood of women you have defiled yourselves, and with the blood of flesh you
have begotten; and with the blood of men you have lusted, and you have
done as they do—flesh and blood, who die and perish. (1 En. 15:3–4)17

14 Quoted according to the translation by Nickelsburg, 1 Enoch, 202. ‘Half-breeds’ is

attested to in the Greek Syncellus manuscript; cf. Nickelsburg, 1 Enoch, 204.
15 Quotations according to Nickelsburg, 1 Enoch, 215.
16 Quoted according to the translation by Nickelsburg, 1 Enoch, 234.
17 Quoted according to the translation by Nickelsburg, 1 Enoch, 267.
purity concepts in jewish traditions of the hellenistic period 481

As a result of this accusation,18 judgment over the watchers’ children is

proclaimed. However, this is an intensification compared to the judgment
proclaimed in 1 En. 10:9–13, in that it is said that the giants’ spirits will
continue to exist on earth even after their death; their disastrous acts will
not find an end before Judgment Day.
After this close examination of 1 En. 6–16, we must ask how precisely
the concept of purity and impurity inherent in this tradition can be con-
ceived. Our text reveals a variety of approaches:

a) According to 1 En. 7:1; 9:8 and 12:4, uncleanness is simply due to sexual
contact.19
b) 1 En. 10:11 refers to contact with women’s blood, e.g. to menstrual
impurity.20
c) The mention of ‘half-breeds’ (κίβδηλα) in 1 En. 9:9 (Syncellus) and in
1 En. 10:9, 15 provides a further pattern for the defilement mentioned
in this text, since it links the defilement of the angels to the sha’atnez
laws.21 Whereas in the Hebrew Bible these laws are connected to
the commingling of different animals, seeds or fabric materials such
as wool and flax (cf. Lev 19:19; see also Deut 22:11), 4QMMT uses this
expression to describe the illegitimate marriage between priests and
levites.22
d) The term ‘bastards’ (µαζηρέους—‫ )ממזריא‬in 1 En. 10:9 hints at “the off-
spring of a union forbidden in the law”.23 However, it is difficult to
determine what kind of illegitimate relationship is alluded to.

18 There is only brief reference to the revelation of divine secrets here; cf. 13:1–2 and
16:3; on this, cf. Losekam, Sünde 69f.
19 For 7:1 and 9:8, cf. Nickelsburg, 1 Enoch, 184. Concerning the biblical source of impu-
rity through intercourse, cf. Lev 15:18.
20 Cf. Nickelsburg, 1 Enoch, 225. According to Nickelsburg, 15:3 should be understood
against the background of menstrual impurity; however, the context of this statement
makes it more plausible to interpret ‘blood’ as a symbol of human carnal existence, which
is opposed to the spiritual existence of angels; see below. For the issue of menstrual impu-
rity, see Lev 15:19ff.
21 See Nickelsburg, 1 Enoch, 213; 223; cf. also 1 En. 7:1 (Aeth) ‘to mix’.
22 Cf. Qimron, Miqṣat Maaśe Ha-Tora, 172–73; Nickelsburg, 1 Enoch, 213; Lange, “Daugh-
ters”, 32: “Like the offspring of two different breeds of animals or a garment made out of
two different kinds of materials the giants are flawed as they are the offspring of a union of
two different kinds. Hence, in the Shemihazah myth the defilement of the watchers results
from a mixture of two things which do not belong together, i.e. the watchers’ intercourse
with women”.
23 See Nickelsburg, 1 Enoch, 223.
482 beate ego

e) Finally, 1 En. 15:3 implies a dualistic worldview: the watchers defiled

themselves because they crossed the cosmic boundaries between
heaven and earth. In her dissertation, Claudia Losekam highlights the
point that, unlike 1 En. 6–11, here the angels’ sin is not the infringement
of divine sexual regulations but rather the angels’ self-denial and thus
a denial of the order God created. In this context, the ‘blood’ refers
to the carnal existence of man and not, as in 1 En. 10:11, to menstrual
impurity. In that way, the punishment of the angels no longer being
allowed to ascend to the heavenly realms (1 En. 14:5) is only consistent,
as it complies with their self-selected belonging to the earthly world.

To summarize: the story of the watchers in its final form alludes to a vari-
ety of types of impurity, e.g., impurity through intercourse or through
menstrual blood, illegitimate marital unions in general, violation of the
sha’atnez laws and the angels’ transgression of the cosmological order
by leaving the celestial world.24 This polyphony of purity concepts sug-
gests that the story does not polemicize against one special violation of
the purity Torah but rather focuses on the overall concept of ‘purity’ as a
paradigm in general. However, it may be assumed on the one hand that
this tradition includes criticism of the priesthood, which became unclean
in the ways of the halakha by not adhering to the priestly requirements
for purity, particularly with regard to legitimate marriage.25 On the other
hand, it may also disagree with the idea that heavenly beings transgress
cosmic boundaries, as presupposed in Hellenistic imperial cults.26 With
this general approach towards the issue of purity, which contains sev-
eral different violations against the purity Torah, the danger arising from

24 Further studies ought to explore the issue concerning the diachronic aspects of these
different purity concepts.
25 Cf. Himmelfarb, Ascent to Heaven, 21–22; Suter, “Fallen Angel”, 114–35; on this cf. also
the work by Lange, “Daughters”, 33. Lange puts the Shemihazah myth into context with
Nehemiah’s reform of the illegitimate union of the priests (cf. Neh 13:28). This thesis is
based on the discovery that his “rhetoric of defilement and purity” as well as the kil’ayim
laws are priestly concepts. The use of priestly language and ideas in connection with the
intermarriage of the watchers creates the suspicion that, as angels, the watchers have the
status of heavenly priests. This is corroborated by 1 En. 9:1, which states that “the angels
remaining in heaven look out of the heavenly sanctuary”.
26 Cf. Nickelsburg, “Apocalyptic and Myth”, 391; Bartelmus, Heroentum, 182, who sees
a reflex on the rule of Antiochus IV in this text. However, dating the Book of the Watch-
ers to the late 3rd or 2nd century, which was suggested by Milik and is widely accepted,
contradicts this connection.
purity concepts in jewish traditions of the hellenistic period 483

‘commingling’ and ‘impurity’ is clearly presented to the recipient of this

tradition.
In any case, it becomes apparent that this narration aims to give an
etiology for the world’s violence and sinfulness and for the rule of nega-
tive powers. The union between divine creatures and womankind, which
is considered impure on the basis of different concepts, has fatal conse-
quences. The giants’ actions are so destructive that, eventually, they put
the world’s existence at risk. The acts of violence in the world that have
the potential to endanger the existence of the whole creation go back to
this cosmic impurity; when at the end, however, there is the prospect of
eschatological salvation, it shows that this tradition is not only an etiology
for the violence in the world, which underlines the relevance of purity laws
in the broadest sense, but also an articulation of the potential for hope.

2. The Law of Purification after Childbirth in the Book

of Jubilees (Jub. 3:8–14)

Another tradition that gives us access to early Jewish purity concepts can
be found at the beginning of the book of Jubilees, in Jub. 3:8–14.27 This text
contains a remarkable reception of the law of purification after childbirth
from Lev 12:1–7.28 In this passage, we read the following:
(8) In the first week Adam and his wife—the rib—were created and in the
second week he showed her to him. Therefore, a commandment was given
to keep seven days for a male (child) and for a female two (units) of seven days.
(9) After 40 days had come to an end for Adam in the Land where he had
been created, we brought him into the garden of Eden to work (it) and keep
it. His wife was brought (there) on the eightieth day. After this she entered
the garden of Eden. (10) For this reason a commandment was written in
the heavenly tablets for the one who gives birth to a child: If she gives
birth to a male, she is to remain in her impurity for seven days like the first
seven days; then for 33 days she is to remain in the blood of purification. She is
not to touch any sacred thing nor to enter the sanctuary, until she completes
these days for a male. (11) As for a female she is to remain in her impurity two

27 Concerning this text, cf. Ego, “Heilige Zeit”; Ravid, “Purity and Impurity”, 76–80; van
Ruiten, Primaeval History, 85–89, among others. Concerning purity concepts of the Book
of Jubilees in general, cf. above, note 1.
28 Concerning the biblical tradition, cf. Erbele-Küster, Körper, 19–48; Gerstenberger, 3.
Buch Mose, 134–40; Milgrom, Leviticus, 742–63; Paschen, Rein, 53, 60–61; Staubli, Bücher,
106–14; Vos, Woman, 60–73; Wenham, Leviticus, 185–89; Whitekettle, “Leviticus 12”; Wright,
“Holiness”, among others.
484 beate ego

weeks of days like the first two weeks and 66 days in the blood of purification.
Their total will be 80 days. (12) After she had completed these 80 days, we
brought her into the Garden of Eden because it is the holiest in the entire
earth, and every tree which is planted in it is holy. (13) For this reason the
law of these days has been ordained for the one who gives birth to a male or a
female. She is not to touch any sacred thing nor to enter the sanctuary until the
time when those days for male or female are completed. (14) These are the law
and the testimony that were written for Israel to keep for all times.29
As the different font types indicate, this passage consists of two dif-
ferent levels that merge into each other: the law of purification after
childbirth itself in Lev 12:1–7, in italic font, and the narrative frame in
Roman font. This passage almost completely reproduces the biblical law
of Lev 12:1–7. Jub. 3:8 initially paraphrases Lev 12:2, 5a. A citation from
Lev 12:2aß, 4, 5 follows in Jub. 3:10–11. The passage closes in Jub. 3:13 with a
kind of summary containing a brief paraphrase of Lev 12:4b, 5b. By means
of this repeated reproduction, the complex content of this legal provision
is clearly expressed: A woman who gives birth to a child is initially in a
state of impurity. This corresponds to the impurity caused by menstrua-
tion, which contaminates everything that comes into contact with the
menstruant or things with which she was in contact.30 This phase lasts
for seven or 14 days for a newborn boy or girl, respectively. The time ‘in
the blood of her purity’31 follows, during which the woman is only impure
with regard to the sanctuary, and access to the temple cannot be granted
to her. Again, the impurity of a woman in child-bed has two different
durations: The state lasts for 33 days if the newborn is male and 66 if it
is female.
The question of the different periods of impurity for a woman in child-
bed and the time of the ‘blood of her purity’, still considered a crux inter-
pretum today,32 is explained in the book of Jubilees by combining the
legal requirements with the narrative frame of the creation account. As
the underlined passages show, there is an explicit link between biblical
law and narration in vv. 8, 10 and 13.

29 Quoted according to the translation by van Ruiten, Primaeval History Interpreted, 85.
30 Cf. Lev 15:19–24.
31 The term ‘purity’ must be seen in relation to the previous state of impurity due to
menstruation; cf. Milgrom, Leviticus, 749: it is probably “a frozen idiom that refers exclu-
sively to the parturient’s state following her initial seven (or fourteen) days of impurity”.
32 Cf. the remarks by Milgrom, Leviticus, 744ff.; 763–65 with references to earlier
literature.
purity concepts in jewish traditions of the hellenistic period 485

The overall argumentation must be understood in the context of the

creation story of the book of Jubilees, which is distinguished by a syn-
thesis of the priestly account in Gen 1:1–2:4a and the Jahwistic, or non-
priestly, account in Gen 3:1–24. According to Jub. 2:14, God created man,
whom he created as ‘a man and a woman’, on the sixth day of creation.
In the present context, this expression based on Gen 1:27 does not mean
that God created man and woman as two separate beings at the same
time, but rather still sees Eve as originally part of Adam.33 According to
Jub. 3:3–7, Eve only gains her individual existence on the 6th day of the
second creation week. In Jub. 3:3–7, we read that God takes a rib from
Adam on the 6th day of the second creation week and ‘builds’ Eve from
this, bringing her to Adam;34 immediately after this, the narrator states
that Adam knew Eve, a motif that, in the biblical tradition, only appears
after the so-called Fall of Man in Gen 4:1. The narrative’s progress shows
that, according to the conception of the book of Jubilees, the first man
was created outside Paradise,35 because Adam is brought to the Garden of
Eden 40 days after his creation, and Eve is not allowed access to the gar-
den before the 80th day. When we reduce this narrative to its essentials,
the following counterparts appear:

Adam’s creation in the first week 7 days of impurity/son

Eve’s creation in the second week 14 days of impurity/daughter
Adam’s transfer to paradise on the 40th Temple visit on the 40th day/son
day
Eve’s transfer to paradise on the 80th day Temple visit on the 80th day/daughter

Through these references, the law of purification after childbirth is given

a symbolic meaning. The seven- or 14-day state of impurity for women in
child-bed correlates with the time between the beginning of creation and
the final creation of Adam or Eve. In this context, paradise and sanctuary
are connected in a symbolic representation.36

33 Concerning this, cf. Halpern-Amaru, “The First Woman”, 610: “the original human
of Jubilees is a male with an undeveloped female aspect”; cf. also van Ruiten, Primaeval
History, 75.
34 According to Berger, Jubiläen, note ad. loc., this is a harmonization of both creation
accounts; cf. Van Ruiten, Primaeval History, 75.
35 Halpern-Amaru, “The First Woman”, 610.
36 Cf. Anderson, “Celibacy”, 142–43; Himmelfarb, “Sexual Relations”, 27; cf. also Ego,
“Heilige Zeit”, 214. Of course, a certain incongruity in a symbolic compilation of this kind
cannot be overlooked; concerning this aspect, cf. Baumgarten, “Purification”, 5–6: “What
is not so clear is the logical symmetry involved in this etiology. . . . [T]he entrance of Adam
486 beate ego

The result of this combination is that, in the book of Jubilees, the law
of purification after childbirth no longer finds its primary foundation in
Moses’ annunciation37 but instead is some kind of ‘shadow’ of a primal
event that took place in illo tempore. When the mother of a male newborn
accesses the temple for the first time, she imitates Adam entering para-
dise; if she is the mother of a female newborn, Eve’s entry to paradise is
repeated.
With regard to the question of the importance of purity and impurity
concepts in Early Judaism, it is essential here to attempt to justify a cer-
tain purity law not only through its place in the Torah of Moses but also
by anchoring the concept in the creation account.
In the book of Jubilees, this foundation of the law of impurity after
childbirth is in line with other pre-Mosaic reasons given for the law; other
halakhic elements, such as the Sabbath and the Feast of Weeks or Passover,
are also introduced in the book of Jubilees’ primeval and patriarchal his-
tories. The warning not to contaminate the Sabbath takes an important
position, as this motif is connected with the creation of the Sabbath; with
this, the commandment to observe the Sabbath in the Torah of Moses,
which concludes the book of Jubilees, appears to be a repetition of prime-
val legislation. This part of the regulations undergoes special legitimation
because it is recalled that these laws, too—like the law of purification
after childbirth—are written down on ‘Heavenly Tablets’. Thus, these
regulations gain a timeless, quasi-cosmic validity.38
Engaging further with the book of Jubilees, it becomes apparent that
social and institutional purity regulations are also justified in the primeval
history. The warning against contamination by mixing with other peoples
provides the basic thrust; the story of Dinah functions as a negative exam-
ple, which culminates with the remark that the separation of peoples con-
stitutes a commandment that is written down on the Heavenly Tablets
and that is thus of a timeless nature. However, it is this very episode

and Eve into the garden, after their respective periods of purification, can with little dif-
ficulty be viewed as paradigmatic for the acceptance of newly born infants of both sexes
into the sacred sphere. However, Leviticus 12 refers to the mother’s exclusion from the
sanctuary during her purification for a period which varies according to the sex of the
child. It also requires her to bring an expiation offering at the end of this period. Can
one assume that the purification period for the mother was also extended to the child?”
37 Cf. the framework in Lev 12:1, 2a.
38 Concerning the Heavenly Tablets, cf. Ego, “Heilige Zeit”, 209; García Martínez, “Heav-
enly Tablets”, among others; with references to earlier literature.
purity concepts in jewish traditions of the hellenistic period 487

that legitimates Levi’s priesthood. Here, too, the events ‘at the beginning’
become constitutive for the foundation of the purity halakha.39

3. Eleazar’s Martyrdom: Purity Regulations as a Sign

of Abiding by the Law (2 Macc 6)

Finally, reference must be made to a tradition from the Second Book of

Maccabees, which dates to the 1st century bce and which reflects from
a distance upon events during the time of Antiochus IV Epiphanes, the
Maccabean revolt and the establishment of the Hasmonean dynasty.
Whereas the First Book of Maccabees simply presents an overall view
and summary, reporting that the pious were martyred for adhering to the
dietary laws (1 Macc 1:62–63), we find two very specific stories of pious
people in the Second Book of Maccabees: Old Eleazar’s martyrdom is
reported in 2 Macc 6:18–31, and in 2 Macc 7:1–42 we read the tragic story
of the mother and her seven sons.
Let us first look at the story of old Eleazar: Eleazar, one of the most
respected scribes in Jerusalem, insistently refuses to follow the decree to
eat pork imposed by the Hellenists, even when they attempt to ‘admin-
ister’ it to him violently. In times of religious persecution, however, this
refusal puts him in mortal danger. Those who already know Eleazar want
to help him, to enable him to overcome this life-threatening situation.
They suggest he bring his own self-prepared meat and pretend to eat from
the meat offering of the Hellenists. He would then fulfill the king’s com-
mandment on the outside and yet remain faithful to his religion and its
laws. However, Eleazar steadfastly refuses to accede to this proposal:
23 He, however, adopting an honourable argument, one which was worthy
of his age, of his hoary preeminence, of the magnificent white hair which he
had come to have and of his superior deportment since childhood, but espe-
cially of the holy and divinely-established legislation, immediately declared,
accordingly, that they should send him on to Hades. 24 ‘For it is not worthy
of our age to dissimulate, of which the result would be that many of the
youth, under the impression that the nonagenarian Eleazar had gone over

39 With regard to content, the individual passages are thematically connected to indi-
vidual statements from the Testament of the Twelve Patriarchs. In this testament, the
warning against associating with strange women is already a well-known topos (T. Sim. 5:5;
T. Reu. 2:2–3:3; T. Ash. 5:1); in the Testament of Levi, in contrast, a justification for perti-
nent priestly laws is given through an instruction by Levi’s grandfather (T. Levi 9:6–14).
Concerning the development of the Levi tradition, cf. Kugler, Patriarch.
488 beate ego

to foreignism, 25 would themselves—due to my pretension and my short

and merely momentary life—go astray because of me, and I would (thus)
cause abomination and blemish to sully my old age. 26 After all, even if now
I do escape punishment by humans, neither living nor dead will I escape
the hands of the All-Ruler. 27 Therefore, passing out of life manfully I will
on the one hand show myself worthy of old age, 28 and on the other leave
to the youth a noble example of enthusiastically and nobly dying the good
death for the august and holy laws.’ Saying that much he immediately went
up upon the torture-drum. (2 Macc 6:23–28)40
Having said this, Eleazar is beaten to death; his last words confirm his
joyful acceptance of death, despite the pain, because he can understand
it as an expression of his fear of God.
This passage emphasizes very clearly that the dietary law does not need
to be observed for its own sake or on account of the material quality of the
food. Instead, it is crucial for the dietary law to appear to be part of the
divine commandment, which then is of a symbolic nature.41 By observing
the dietary law, Eleazar expresses his faith in and his fear of God.
The last words of the youngest of the seven brothers, who speaks just
before his death, point in the same direction. He says:
37 As for me, just as my brothers I give up both body and soul for the ancestral
laws, calling upon God that He speedily become merciful to the people; and
that you, after afflictions and scourging, will therefore admit that He alone is
God; 38 and that, with me and my brothers, shall be stayed the anger of the
All-Ruler which was justly loosed against our entire nation. . . . 40 And so he
passed away in purity, in complete faith in God. (2 Macc 7:37–38, 40)42
The overall outline of the Second Book of Maccabees shows that these
narrations are more than just individual examples of the pious Jews’
adherence to the law. The martyrs’ actions, and thereby also indirectly
their adherence to the associated dietary laws, play a key role with regard
to understanding the entire work.
Following the episode of the mother and her seven sons, Judah Maccabaeus
and his fellow fighters take action. They ask God to take pity on the desecrated
temple and to remember the innocent blood (2 Macc 8:1–4). Immediately
afterwards, events take a turn. The Lord’s anger turns to mercy, and Judah
and his men start fighting the Gentiles. The aim of the often-miraculous

40 Quoted according to the translation by Schwartz, 2 Maccabees, 271–72.

41 This close connection between purity concepts and the Torah can also be found
explicitly in 1 Macc 1:66; 4:42; 14:36. It thus becomes apparent that the behavior towards
the dietary laws also functions as an indicator of the protagonist’s law abidance.
42 Quoted according to the translation by Schwartz, 2 Maccabees, 298.
purity concepts in jewish traditions of the hellenistic period 489

military successes achieved by Judah and his men is to reconquer the temple
of Jerusalem and to purify it. Thus, 2 Macc 10:5–8 states:
5 And it happened that on the very date upon which the Sanctuary was
profaned by the non-Jews, on that very date the Sanctuary was purified, on
the twenty-fifth day of the same month—Kislev 6 and with mirth they cel-
ebrated for eight days in the style of (the festival of ) Tabernacles, recalling
that not long before they had been grazing away the festival of Tabernacles
in the mountains and in the caves, as if they were wild animals. 7 Therefore,
holding wands and also fresh branches, along with palm-fronds, they offered
up hymns to Him who had made successful the path to the purification of
His own Place. 8 And they resolved by an edict and decree made in common
that the entire people of the Jews should celebrate these days annually.43
The account of the purification and rededication of the Jerusalem temple
can be seen as a sign that God has heard Judah’s prayer. The granting of
this prayer is based in turn on God’s mercy, remembering the martyrs’
innocent blood. In other, exaggerated, words: since the pious were will-
ing to die for the purity laws, God was willing to give the Maccabees the
military power that enabled them to purify the Jerusalem temple.44

4. Summary and Outlook

The texts compiled here refer to very different aspects of ‘purity’ and ‘impu-
rity’ that need to be discussed in the context of early Jewish literature. It
becomes apparent that, with regard to biblical concepts of purity, the tra-
ditions discussed above can claim originality and creativity for themselves
and therefore go beyond the Hebrew Bible’s concepts of purity. Thus, the
Book of the Watchers explains the cosmic relevance of purity, whereas the
book of Jubilees connects the purity motif to the primeval history. Finally,
the Second Book of Maccabees demonstrates the symbolic value of the
Jewish purity laws and their practical dimension.
Subsequent works on early Jewish literature should contextualize these
results in depth. For this purpose, individual literary works should be read
with an eye to their conceptions of purity, in order to systematize the
different aspects of the early Jewish purity discourse and to relate them
to one another.

43 Quoted according to the translation by Schwartz, 2 Maccabees, 369.

44 Concerning the concept of martyrdom in the Book of Maccabees, cf. Kellermann,
Auferstanden; van Henten, Entstehung; Goldin, Martyrdom.
490 beate ego

Bibliography

Anderson, Gary. “Celibacy or Consummation in the Garden? Reflections on Early Jewish

and Christian Interpretations of the Garden of Eden”. Harvard Theological Review 82
(1998): 121–48.
Bartelmus, Rüdiger. Heroentum in Israel und seiner Umwelt: Eine traditionsgeschichtliche
Untersuchung zu Gen 6,1–4 und verwandten Texten im Alten Testament und der altorien-
talischen Literatur. Abhandlungen zur Theologie des Alten und Neuen Testaments 65.
Zürich: Theologischer Verlag, 1979.
Baumgarten, Joseph. “Purification after Childbirth and the Sacred Garden in 4Q265 and
Jubilees”. Pages 4–10 in New Qumran Texts and Studies: Proceedings of the First Meeting
of the International Organization of Qumran Studies. Edited by G. J. Brooke and F. García
Martínez. Leiden: Brill, 1994.
Bedenbender, Andreas. Der Gott der Welt tritt auf den Sinai: Entstehung, Entwicklung
und Funktionsweise der frühjüdischen Apokalyptik. Arbeiten zur neutestamentlichen
Theologie und Zeitgeschichte 8. Berlin: Institut Kirche und Judentum, 2000.
Berger, Klaus. Das Buch der Jubiläen. Jüdische Schriften aus Hellenistisch-Römischer Zeit
2,3. Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus, 1981.
Black, Matthew. The Book of Enoch or 1 Enoch: A New English Edition, with Commentary
and Textual Notes by M. Black in Consultation with J. VanderKam, with an Appendix
on the Astronomical Chapters (72–82) by O. Neugebauer. Studia in Veteris Testamenti
Pseudepigrapha 7. Leiden: Brill, 1985.
——. Apocalypsis Henochi Graece. Pseudepigrapha Veteris Testamenti Graece 3. Leiden:
Brill, 1970.
Bryan, David. Cosmos, Chaos and the Kosher Mentality. Journal for the Study of
Pseudepigrapha: Supplement Series 12. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1995.
Castelli, Silvia. “Josephan Halakhah and the Temple Scroll: Questions of Sources and
Exegetic Traditions in the Laws on Purity”. Henoch: Studies in Judaism and Christianity
from Second Temple to Late Antiquity 24 (2002): 331–41.
Collins, John. The Apocalyptic Imagination: An Introduction to Jewish Apocalyptic Literature.
The Biblical Resource Series. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1998.
——. “The Apocalyptic Technique: Setting and Function in the Book of Watchers”. The
Catholic Biblical Quartely 44 (1982): 91–111.
Dimant, Devorah. “1 Enoch 6–11: A Fragment of a Parabiblical Work”. Journal of Jewish
Studies 53 (2002): 223–37.
Döring, Lutz. “Purity and Impurity in the Book of Jubilees”. Pages 261–75 in Enoch and
the Mosaic Torah: The Evidence of Jubilees. Edited by G. Boccaccini and G. Ibba; Grand
Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2009.
Ego, Beate. “ ‘Denn er liebt sie’ (Tob 6,15 Ms. 319): Zur Rolle des Dämons Asmodäus in
der Tobit-Erzählung”. Pages 309–17 in Die Dämonen–Demons: Die Dämonologie der
israelitisch-jüdischen und frühchristlichen Literatur im Kontext ihrer Umwelt. Edited by
A. Lange, H. Lichtenberger and D. K. F. Römheld. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2003.
——. “Heilige Zeit–heiliger Raum–heiliger Mensch: Beobachtungen zur Struktur der
Gesetzesbegründung in der Schöpfungs- und Paradiesgeschichte des Jubiläenbuches”.
Pages 207–19 in Studies in the Book of Jubilees. Texte und Studien zum Antiken Judentum
65. Edited by M. Albani, J. Frey and A. Lange. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1997.
Erbele-Küster, Dorothea. Körper und Geschlecht: Studien zur Anthropologie von Lev 12 und
15. Wissenschaftliche Monographien zum Alten und Neuen Testament 121. Neukirchen-
Vluyn: Neukirchener Verlagsgesellschaft, 2008.
García Martínez, Florentino. “The Heavenly Tablets in the Book of Jubilees”. Pages 243–60
in Studies in the Book of Jubilees. Texte und Studien zum Antiken Judentum 65. Edited
by M. Albani, J. Frey and A. Lange. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1997.
Gerstenberger, Erhard. Das 3. Buch Mose: Leviticus. Das Alte Testament Deutsch 6.
Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1993.
purity concepts in jewish traditions of the hellenistic period 491

Goldenberg, Robert. “Reinheit III: Judentum”. Pages 483–87 in vol. 28 of Theologische

Realenzyklopädie. Edited by G. Müller and G. Krause. 36 Vols. Berlin: de Gruyter, 1997.
Goldin, Simha. The Ways of Jewish Martyrdom. Cursor Mundi. Turnhout: Brepols, 2008.
Haber, Susan. ‘They Shall Purify Themselves’: Essays on Purity in Early Judaism. Society of
Biblical Literature: Early Judaism and Its Literature 24. Leiden: Brill, 2008.
Halpern-Amaru, Betsy. “The First Woman, Wives, and Mothers in Jubilees”. Journal of
Biblical Literature 113 (1994): 609–26.
Hanson, Paul. “Rebellion in Heaven, Asazel and Euphemistic Heroism in 1. Enoch”. Journal
of Biblical Literature 96 (1977): 195–213.
Hayes, Christine. “Intermarriage and Impurity in Ancient Jewish Sources”. Harvard
Theological Review 92 (1999): 3–36.
Himmelfarb, Martha. “Sexual Relations and Purity in the Temple Scroll and the Book of
Jubilees”. Dead Sea Discoveries 6 (1999): 11–36.
——. Ascent to Heaven in Jewish and Christian Apocalypses. New York: Oxford University
Press, 1993.
Kellermann, Ulrich. Auferstanden in den Himmel: 2 Makkabäer 7 und die Auferstehung.
Stuttgarter Bibelstudien 95. Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1979.
Klawans, Jonathan. Impurity and Sin in Ancient Judaism. Oxford: Oxford University Press,
2000.
Knibb, Michael. The Ethiopic Book of Enoch: A New Edition in the Light of the Aramaic
Dead Sea Fragments: Vol. 1: Text and Apparatus Vol. 2: Introduction, Translation and
Commentary. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1982.
Kugler, Robert. From Patriarch to Priest: The Levi-Priestly Tradition from Aramaic Levi
to Testament of Levi. Society of Biblical Literature: Early Judaism and Its Literature 9.
Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1996.
Lange, Armin. “Your Daughters Do Not Give to Their Sons and Their Daughters Do Not
Take for Your Sons (Ezra 9,12)–Part I”. Biblische Notizen 137 (2008): 17–39.
Losekam, Claudia. Die Sünde der Engel: Die Engelfalltradition in frühjüdischen und gnos-
tischen Schriften. Texte und Arbeiten zum neutestamentlichen Zeitalter 41. Tübingen:
Francke Verlag, 2010.
Milgrom, Jacob. “The Concept of Impurity in Jubilees and the Temple Scroll”. Revue de
Qumran 62 (1993): 277–84.
——. Leviticus I–XVI. The Anchor Bible 3. New York: Doubleday, 1991.
Milik, Jósef Tadeusz. The Books of Enoch: Aramaic Fragments of Qumrân Cave 4. Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1976.
Neusner, Jacob. The Idea of Purity in Ancient Judaism: The Haskell Lectures. Studies in
Judaism and Late Antiquity 1. Leiden: Brill, 1973.
Newsom, Carol. “The Development of 1 Enoch 6–19”. The Catholic Biblical Quarterly 42
(1980): 310–29.
Nickelsburg, George. 1 Enoch: A New Translation. Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2004.
——. “Apocalyptic and Myth in 1 Enoch 6–11”. Journal of Biblical Literature 96 (1977):
383–405.
Paschen, Wilfried. Rein und Unrein: Untersuchung zur biblischen Wortgeschichte. Studien
zum Alten und Neuen Testament 24. Munich: Kösel-Verlag, 1970.
Qimron, Elisha, and John Strugnell. Miqṣat Maaśe Ha-Tora. Discoveries of the Judaean
Desert 10. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1994.
Ravid, Liora. “Purity and Impurity in the Book of Jubilees”. Journal for the Study of the
Pseudepigrapha 13,1 (2002): 62–86.
Reed, Annette Y. “The Trickery of the Fallen Angels and the Demonic Mimesis of the
Divine”. Journal of Early Christian Studies 12 (2004): 141–71.
Regev, Eyal. “Pure Individualism: The Idea of Non-Priestly Purity in Ancient Judaism”.
Journal for the Study of Judaism in the Persian, Hellenistic and Roman Period 31 (2000):
176–202.
Rhodes, James. “Diet and Desire: The Logic of the Dietary Laws According to Philo”.
Louvain Journal of Theology and Canon Law 79 (2003): 122–33.
492 beate ego

Schwartz, Daniel. 2 Maccabees. Commentaries on Early Jewish Literature. Berlin: de

Gruyter, 2008.
Staubli, Thomas. Die Bücher Levitikus, Numeri. Neuer Stuttgarter Kommentar Altes
Testament 3. Stuttgart: Katholisches Bibelwerk, 1996.
Stuckenbruck, Loren. “The Origins of Evil in Jewish Apocalyptic Tradition: The Interpreta-
tion of Genesis 6:1–4 in the Second and Third Centuries B.C.E”. Pages 87–118 in The Fall
of the Angels. Edited by C. Auffarth and L. Stuckenbruck. Leiden: Brill, 2004.
Suter, David Winston. “Fallen Angel, Fallen Priest: The Problem of Family Purity in
1 Enoch”. Hebrew Union College Annual 50 (1979): 114–35.
Uhlig, Siegfried. Äthiopisches Henochbuch. Jüdische Schriften aus hellenistisch-römischer
Zeit V,6. Gütersloh: Gütersloher Verlagshaus, 1984.
van Henten, Jan Willem, ed. Die Entstehung der jüdischen Martyrologie. Studia Postbiblica
38. Leiden: Brill, 1989.
VanderKam, James. “Viewed from Another Angle: Purity and Impurity in the Book of
Jubilees”. Journal for the Study of the Pseudepigrapha 13 (2002): 209–15.
van Ruiten, Jacques T. Primaeval History Interpreted: The Rewriting of Genesis 1–11 in the
Book of Jubilees. Supplements to the Journal for the Study of Judaism 66. Leiden: Brill,
2000.
Vos, Clarence. Woman in Old Testament Worship. Delft: N.V. Verenige Drukkerijen Judels
& Brinkman, 1968.
Wandrey, Irina. “Rein und unrein V. Judentum”. Columns 243–45 in vol. 7 of Religion in
Geschichte und Gegenwart. 4th ed. Edited by H. D. Betz, D. S. Browning, B. Janowski and
E. Jüngel. 8 vols. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2004.
——. “Reinigung”. Columns 252–53 in vol. 7 of Religion in Geschichte und Gegenwart.
4th ed. Edited by H. D. Betz, D. S. Browning, B. Janowski and E. Jüngel. 8 vols. Tübingen:
Mohr Siebeck, 2004.
Wenham, Gordon. The Book of Leviticus. The New International Commentary on the Old
Testament. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2009.
Werman, Cana. “The Concept of Holiness and the Requirement of Purity in Second Temple
and Tannaitic Literature”. Pages 163–79 in Purity and Holiness: The Heritage of Leviticus.
Edited by M. J. H. M. Poorthuis and J. Schwartz. Leiden: Brill, 2000.
Whitekettle, Richard. “Leviticus 12 and the Israelite Women: Ritual Process, Liminality and
the Womb”. Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche Wissenschaft 107 (1995): 393–408.
Witte, Markus. Die biblische Urgeschichte: Redaktions- und theologiegeschichtliche
Beobachtungen zu Genesis 1,1–11,26. Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die alttestamentliche
Wissenschaft 265. Berlin: de Gruyter, 1998.
Wright, Archie T. Origin of Evil Spirits: The Reception of Genesis 6.1–4 in Early Jewish
Literature. Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament. 2. Reihe 198.
Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2005.
Wright, David. “Holiness, Sex and Death in the Garden of Eden”. Biblica 77 (1996):
305–29.
 THE EVOLUTION OF PURITY AT QUMRAN

Ian Werrett

Abstract

From the earliest days of Qumran scholarship down to the present, it has been
repeatedly observed that the Dead Sea Scrolls exhibit an intense interest in the
concept of purity and the religious laws of Second Temple Judaism. This preoc-
cupation with purity and the Jewish temple cult has been understood by modern
scholars as one of the defining features of the scrolls and as a possible key to
unlocking the identity of those who may have been responsible for their author-
ship. As one might expect, the task of transcribing and translating the nine hun-
dred or so documents that were recovered from the region in and around the
ancient site of Khirbet Qumran has been a slow and laborious project, but with
the publication of each new document the portrait of the community behind the
scrolls has come into sharper relief. Now that the entire corpus of texts has been
published and is available for inspection, it is possible to chart both the evolu-
tion of scholarly thought on the concept of purity at Qumran and the evolving
perspectives on purity that are exhibited by the scrolls themselves.

Introduction

If Second Temple Judaism can be described as a system of myths, rituals

and sacrifices that enabled the Jewish people to understand and main-
tain a relationship with their God, then purity is the state of being that
made that relationship possible. According to the Torah, God’s contin-
ued presence among the Israelites was contingent upon his people main-
taining a level of purity that was proportional to his holiness (Lev 19:2;
Deut 23:14). Although Jews were expected to maintain a moderate level
of purity wherever they resided, the purity rulings that were incumbent
upon all Jews during the Second Temple period became more rigorous
the closer they were to the Jerusalem temple—an enormous complex of
buildings and precincts that were sanctified by God’s indwelling presence
(Lev 21:23). The purity of this temple was safeguarded by massive walls
of stone and gates that divided the complex into a series of increasingly
stringent zones of purity. The outermost of these zones, commonly known
as the Court of the Gentiles, was open to Jew and non-Jew alike. By con-
trast, the inner precincts of the complex (i.e., the Court of the Women, the
494 ian werrett

Court of the Israelites and the Court of the Priests) were restricted to clean
Jewish women, clean Jewish men and priests who were free from impurity
(Josephus, Bellum judaicum 5). Entry into the temple’s inner sanctum, or
Holy of Holies, was limited to the High Priest and only then on the Day of
Atonement (Lev 16). By enclosing the sanctuary within these increasingly
circumscribed zones of purity, the theological architects of the Second
Temple period (read ‘priests and scribes’) were attempting to create a
ritually pure space in which to perform the sacrifices and rites that were
deemed vital to maintaining the Jewish people’s relationship with God.
Generally speaking, the concept of impurity in the Hebrew Bible can
be divided into two subcategories: moral and ritual. Although these terms
are problematic and do not explicitly appear in the Scriptures, they never-
theless describe two distinct states of existence.1 On the one hand, moral
impurity is a lengthy if not permanent condition that is the consequence
of avoidable or sinful acts, such as illicit sexual behavior (Lev 18; 20:10–26),
murder (Num 35:33–34) and idolatry (Lev 19:4; 20:1–5). Moral impurity
cannot be transmitted through direct contact and it can only be expunged
by engaging in acts of atonement or by punishing the offending individ-
ual. Ritual impurity, on the other hand, is the temporary consequence of
largely unavoidable or non-sinful conditions, such as menstruation (Lev
15:19–24), lawful sexual activity (Lev 15:16–18) and the burial of corpses
(Num 19). Unlike moral impurity, ritual impurity is primarily transmitted
through direct contact and those who have been rendered ritually impure
are to be cleansed through a variety of lustrations, probationary periods
and/or sacrifices. For the purposes of our discussion below, it is important
to note that both of these forms of impurity, if left unchecked, had the
potential to defile the temple and damage the relationship between God
and his people, albeit in different ways.2

1 For a detailed discussion on the biblical distinction between ritual and moral impu-
rity, see Klawans, Impurity and Sin, 21–42.
2 Whereas ritual impurity temporarily defiles people, objects and the temple through
direct contact, moral impurity defiles the land, the non-repentant, and renders the Sanc-
tuary impure from afar. Despite these differences, however, it must be said that the cat-
egories of ritual and moral impurity, as defined by Jonathan Klawans and others, are not
as distinct as they would have us believe. For example, in contrast to ritual purity, which
results in temporary defilement and can be expiated through various acts such as bath-
ing and sacrifices, Klawans argues that moral impurity results in a “long-standing, if not
permanent, degradation of the sinner” that is without a rite of purification. But this is not
entirely accurate. As Milgrom has rightly noted, the scapegoat rite on the Day of Atonement
 the evolution of purity at qumran 495

1. Purity and the Authorship of the Dead Sea Scrolls

Even before the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls in 1947, several theories
had already been forwarded regarding the identity of those who may have
been responsible for authoring the ancient text known as the Damascus
Document. Recovered at the end of the nineteenth century in the Ben Ezra
Synagogue of Old Cairo, the Damascus Document and its contents were
first published in 1910 by the eminent Talmud scholar Solomon Schechter.3
Focusing almost exclusively on the legal and purity rulings contained in
this document, Schechter hypothesized that the authors were a commu-
nity of Zadokite priests from the Second Temple period whose practices
paralleled those of the Samaritan sect known as the Dositheans. Shortly
after the appearance of Schechter’s volume, Louis Ginzberg published a
book entitled An Unknown Jewish Sect in which he argued that the legal
positions of the Damascus Document had more in common with the
Pharisees than they did with the Dositheans.4 Although Schechter and
Ginzberg disagreed on the identity of the authors, the discovery of the
Damascus Document at Qumran in the 1950’s would eventually confirm
their contention that the text had originally been composed during the
Second Temple period. Sadly, neither man would live long enough to see
this hypothesis verified.
In 1954, some two years before the archeological excavations at Khirbet
Qumran were completed,5 Chaim Rabin theorized that the purity rulings
in the Damascus Document reflected the beliefs of an ultra-pious Pharisaic
group referred to in the rabbinic sources as the haburah.6 But as the con-
tents of the scrolls started to emerge it became increasingly apparent that
they contained a number of theological and legal opinions that were at

(Lev 16:1–34) not only purges the Sanctuary from any defilement but it also cleanses Israel
from any moral impurities.
At the end of the day, all impurities, be they ritual or moral, are an affront to God who,
according to the Hebrew Scriptures, is both perfect and holy (Deut 32:3–4; Ps 99:9). Any
accumulation of impurity, therefore, would eventually drive God away from his abode in
the Holy of Holies, thereby rendering the cult ineffective and leaving the Israelites defense-
less (Deut 23:14). Although I will treat the concepts of ritual and moral impurity as distinct
categories throughout the course of this discussion, it must be stated from the outset that
the terms ‘ritual’ and ‘moral’ are problematic and cannot easily be disentangled from one
another. See Klawans, Impurity and Sin, 26; Milgrom, “Israel’s Sanctuary”, 390–99.
3 Schechter, Documents of Jewish Sectaries.
4 Ginzberg, Unknown Jewish Sect.
5 de Vaux, Archaeology, vii–ix.
6 Rabin, The Zadokite Documents.
496 ian werrett

odds with the descriptions of the Pharisees in the Greek, Christian and
rabbinic sources.7 It was precisely these differences that prompted Eleazar
Sukenik to identify the scrolls, and the purity rulings contained therein, as
belonging to a group known as the Essenes,8 a sect of pious Jews who are
described in some detail by the ancient historians Josephus9 and Philo of
Alexandria10 and identified by Pliny the Elder11 as living along the western
shore of the Dead Sea during the Second Temple period.
In the sixty or so years since Sukenik first posited a connection between
the Dead Sea Scrolls and the Essenes, a wide range of theories have been
forwarded concerning the identity of those who may have been respon-
sible for authoring and collecting these ancient documents.12 Despite
numerous efforts to dislodge Sukenik’s theory from its lofty perch as the
consensus position within the scholarly guild, the Qumran/Essene hypoth-
esis continues to be the most plausible explanation for the relationship
between the archeological and textual evidence thus far recovered from
Qumran.13

7 Two of the most frequently cited disagreements involve a difference of opinion

regarding the tebul yom and the Red Heifer rite. In contrast to the Pharisaic opinion on
the tebul yom, which permitted those who had completed their purification rituals, but
had not waited until sunset, to participate in society as if they had been cleansed (m. Parah
3:7), the scrolls unanimously state that the purifying individual must wait until evening to
be cleansed (4Q269 8 ii 3b–6; 4Q394 3–7 i 16–19; 11Q19 49:20–21). As for the Red Heifer rite,
the scrolls prohibit children from functioning as sprinklers of the ‫( מי נדה‬4Q269 8 ii 6),
whereas the Pharisees were known to have used children as sprinklers in order to avoid
some of the impurities of adulthood, such as the defilement that would result from bodily
discharges and sexual activity (m. Parah 3:1–2).
8 Sukenik, Megillot Genuzot.
9 Josephus, Bellum judaicum 2.119–61; Josephus, Antiquitates judaicae 13.171–73;
18.18–22.
10 Philo, Quod omnis probus liber sit 75–91.
11 Pliny, Naturalis historia 5.17, 4 [73].
12 For a Sadducean identification, see Schiffman, Reclaiming the Dead Sea Scrolls. For
the Jerusalem origins hypothesis, see Golb, Who Wrote the Dead Sea Scrolls? For the inter-
pretation of Qumran as a pottery factory, see Magen and Peleg, “The Qumran Excavations”.
For the interpretation of Qumran as an agricultural fort, see Hirschfeld, Qumran in Con-
text. For the interpretation of Qumran as a villa rustica, or manor home, of a wealthy Jew-
ish family, see Donceel and Donceel-Voûte, “The Archaeology of Khirbet Qumran”, 1–38.
And for a Christian identification, see Thiering, Jesus and the Riddle of the Dead Sea Scrolls;
Eisenman, James the Brother of Jesus.
13 Although the term ‘Essene’ is nowhere mentioned in the Dead Sea Scrolls and its
etymology is uncertain, the geographical descriptions of Pliny the Elder, when read in
light of the archeological evidence from Qumran and the thirty or so parallels that have
been observed between the Community Rule (1QS) and Josephus’ descriptions of the Ess-
enes, support the notion that the Qumran community is to be identified with the Essenes.
For more on the Qumran/Essene hypothesis, see VanderKam, The Dead Sea Scrolls Today,
75–98; de Vaux, Archaeology; Magness, The Archaeology of Qumran and the Dead Sea
Scrolls; Metso, The Serekh Texts.
 the evolution of purity at qumran 497

2. The Concept of Purity at Qumran: 1947–1990

In 1959, Józef Milik, the noted biblical scholar and original member of
the Dead Sea Scrolls’ translation team, published a survey on the texts
from Qumran in which he asserted that a number of the scrolls from
Cave 4 appeared to be “obsessed with questions of ritual purity”.14 Little
did Milik know when he wrote these words, however, that the documents
to which he was referring would remain unpublished and largely unavail-
able for inspection for the better part of the next forty years.15 It goes
without saying that the unavailability of such texts as the Temple Scroll
from Cave 11 and 4QMMT would prove to be a major stumbling block
to those who were attempting to locate and understand the concept of
purity in the scrolls.16 In spite of these difficulties, a handful of scholars
were, from very early on, able to identify one of the most compelling and
important articulations of purity in the Dead Sea Scrolls: a tendency to
associate moral impurity with ritual impurity.
To the best of my knowledge, David Flusser was the first scholar to
explicitly comment on the association between ritual and moral purity
in the Dead Sea Scrolls.17 In comparing the concept of Christian baptism
with the lustrations of the Qumran community, Flusser notes:
. . . purity, according to John the Baptist, is not obtainable without the pre-
vious ‘cleansing of the soul’, i.e. repentance. This idea, that moral purity is
a necessary condition for ritual purity, is emphatically preached in DSD
[i.e. 1QS].18
Although Flusser stops short of saying that ritual and moral impurity have
been combined into a single conception of defilement, the similarities he
observed between the lustrations of Qumran and those of John the Baptist
have added to our understanding of Christian baptism and its develop-
ment from earlier Jewish practices.19

14 Milik, Ten Years of Discovery, 41.

15 Baumgarten, Qumran Cave 4. XIII; Baumgarten, Qumran Cave 4. XXV.
16 The Temple Scroll, a document from Qumran containing a lengthy collection of laws
relating to the temple and ritual purity, was not published in English until 1983. Simi-
larly, the document known as 4QMMT did not find its way into publication until 1994. See
Yadin, The Temple Scroll, trans. of Megillat ham-Miqdas; Qimron and Strugnell, Qumran
Cave 4. V. Miqsat Ma’ase Ha-Torah.
17 Flusser, “The Dead Sea Sect”, 215–66.
18 Flusser, “The Dead Sea Sect”, 243.
19 William Brownlee and James Robinson preceded Flusser in noting a connection
between John’s baptism, the lustrations of Qumran and the remission of sins; however,
neither Brownlee nor Robinson used the terms ‘moral purity’ and ‘ritual purity’ when
498 ian werrett

The writings of Helmer Ringgren represent the next stage of develop-

ment in the scholarly guild on the association between ritual and moral
impurity in the scrolls. Building upon the work of Hans Huppenbauer,20
Ringgren observes that, for the Qumran community, sinful behavior was
metaphorically related to the concept of ritual impurity: “Since sin is often
taken as defilement or impurity [in the scrolls], deliverance from sin is
described correspondingly as cleansing”.21 Although he refrains from com-
menting on how it is that this articulation of purity deviates from the
biblical model, Ringgren does offer some preliminary thoughts on the
relationship between ritual and moral impurity in the scrolls:
The relationship between ritual and moral purity is clarified in the upper
half of the third column of the Manual of Discipline [1QS]: one cannot
be had without the other. He who does not abandon sin but walks in the
hardness of heart will not be cleansed through atonement or be made pure
through water. He who wishes to do penance will be sprinkled with water
of purification and God will lead him in the right way.22
What is missing in Ringgren’s discussion, however, is a detailed descrip-
tion of the association between ritual and moral impurity and how it is
that this relationship would have manifested itself within the Qumran
community. Whereas the language of 1QS appears to indicate that sin-
ful activity contaminates individuals on both a moral and a ritual level,
thereby necessitating acts of atonement and purification (1QS 3:3b–9a;
4:20b–22a; 5:13b–14a), Ringgren fails to explain whether these expressions
are real or metaphorical. This lack of specificity is most clearly evidenced
by Ringgren’s frequent use of similes: “sin is often taken as defilement or
impurity”; “deliverance from sin is described correspondingly as cleans-
ing”; and “cleansing is often described with expressions which are taken
from the language of ritual. . . . [T]his was also true of sin as impurity” [ital-
ics mine].23 Complicating matters even further is the fact that Ringgren
has elsewhere described the biblical articulation of moral impurity as
having a ‘figurative meaning’,24 which would seem to suggest that he

describing the practices of the Qumran community. See, Brownlee, “A Comparison of the
Covenanters of the Dead Sea Scrolls with Pre-Christian Jewish Sects”, 49–72; Robinson,
“The Baptism of John”, 175–91.
20 Huppenbauer, “THR and THRH”, 350–51.
21 Ringgren, The Faith of Qumran, 123–24.
22 Ringgren, The Faith of Qumran, 124.
23 Ringgren, The Faith of Qumran, 123–24.
24 Ringgren, “‫”טהת‬, 291–95.
 the evolution of purity at qumran 499

understood the relationship between ritual and moral impurity in the

Dead Sea Scrolls as a metaphor for uncleanness.
In his groundbreaking book The Idea of Purity in Ancient Judaism,25
Jacob Neusner echoes Ringgren’s belief that the biblical articulation of
moral impurity is largely metaphorical. Where he deviates from his pre-
decessor, however, is on the relationship between ritual and moral impu-
rity at Qumran. Unlike Ringgren, who appears to have interpreted this
association as a figurative construct, Neusner sees it as a very real state
of affairs:
The yahad’s laws treat committing a sin not as a metaphor for becoming
unclean, but as an actual source of uncleanness. If one transgresses any part
of the law, he is excluded from the ‘Purity’ of the sect. It is not as if he were
unclean, as with the biblical metaphor. He is actually unclean and requires a
rite of purification. So the uncleanness is not metaphorical but is treated as
equivalent to the impurity imparted by a corpse or a menstrual woman.26
The litmus test for this interpretation, according to Neusner, concerns
the so-called ‘purity’ of the community. As many scholars have noted, the
term ‫ הטהרה‬or ‘the purity’ appears quite frequently in the Community
Rule (1QS 6:22; 7:25; 8:24) and was employed by the authors of 1QS to
describe the pure foodstuffs, pure liquids and/or pure objects that were
considered to be off-limits to all but the members of the Qumran com-
munity. In order to gain access to the ‫“ טהרת אנשי הקודש‬purity of the
holy men” (1QS 5:13; 8:17) and the ‫“ טהרת הרבים‬purity of the many” (1QS
6:16–17, 25; 7:3, 16, 19), individuals first had to be cleansed of their moral
and ritual impurities by submitting themselves to the authority of the
community and its teachings:
Ceremonies of atonement cannot restore his innocence, neither cultic
waters his purity. He cannot be sanctified by baptism in oceans and rivers,
nor purified by mere ritual bathing. Unclean, unclean shall he be all the
days that he rejects the laws of God, refusing to be disciplined in the Yahad
of His society. For only through the spirit pervading God’s true society can
there be atonement for a man’s ways, all of his iniquities; thus only can he
gaze upon the light of life and so be joined to His truth by His holy spirit,
purified from all iniquity. Through an upright and humble attitude his sin
may be covered, and by humbling himself before all God’s laws his flesh can
be made clean. (1QS 3:4b–9a)

25 Neusner, The Idea of Purity in Ancient Judaism.

26 Neusner, The Idea of Purity in Ancient Judaism, 54.
500 ian werrett

Given that the purities of the community were only accessible to those who
had attained full membership within the yahad, a status which required
individuals to atone for their sins and participate in various cleansings,
probationary periods and examinations by the leading members of the
group, Neuser’s contention that the Qumran community understood moral
impurity as being ‘an actual source of uncleanness’ is well taken. “What
makes this view of purity other than metaphorical”, claims Neusner,
. . . is the provision of both a specific disability consequent on sin-impurity
and a rite of purification—whatever it may be . . . [the initiate] is really
impure and requires cleansing from impurity before he may have contact
with the pure objects of the community.27
This understanding of moral impurity is markedly different from a meta-
phorical articulation and it represents a major shift in thinking on the
concept of purity within ancient Judaism.
A second innovation at Qumran, argues Neusner, was the belief that
the locus of purity in ancient Israel had been moved from the temple in
Jerusalem to the members of the Qumran community. This is evidenced
not only by the Damascus Document’s insistence that the temple had been
rendered impure (CD 5:6b–15a; 20:22b–24), but also by the witness of 1QS,
which privileges the purity, behavior and prayers of the Qumran com-
munity over and above the sacerdotal activities of the temple cult (1QS
9:3–6). Based upon these observations and on the work of Bertil Gärtner,
who was one of the first scholars to articulate the notion that the Qumran
community understood itself as being a temporary replacement for the
sanctuary in Jerusalem,28 Neusner argues that the theologians of the
yahad intentionally shifted the location of the axis mundi from the defiled
temple in Jerusalem to the ‫מקדש אדם‬, or “sanctuary of men”, at Qumran
(4Q174 1–2 1 6). “In some measure”, writes Neuser, “this represents a ‘spiri-
tualization’ of the old Temple, for the Temple now is the community, and
the Temple worship is effected through the community’s study and fulfill-
ment of the Torah”.29 Although these observations represent a significant
stage of development within the field of Qumran research, Neusner fails
to elaborate on what is arguably the most important question to come
out of his study, namely: What is the nature of the relationship between
Qumran’s innovations on purity and their self-understanding as the
axis mundi?

27 Neusner, The Idea of Purity in Ancient Judaism, 54.

28 Gärtner, The Temple and the Community, 4–46.
29 Neusner, The Idea of Purity, 50.
 the evolution of purity at qumran 501

In The Concept of Purity at Qumran and in the Letters of Paul,30 Michael

Newton attempts to answer the question posed by Neusner’s study by
dividing the relevant material from the scrolls into three areas of con-
cern: entry into the community, life within the community and exclusion
from the community. According to Newton, the key to understanding the
purity innovations recorded in the scrolls is the sacerdotal nature of its
congregation:
[They] were a priestly community and as such had to be protected from any
intrusion of uncleanness either from without, in the form of unconverted
Israelites, or from within, in the form of the sinful member who either tem-
porarily or permanently is tainted with impurity and has to separate himself
from the membership.31
In other words, the Qumran community’s obsession with purity and their
desire to combine ritual and moral impurity into a single conception of
defilement was an attempt to protect their priestly congregation from
all forms of uncleanness. But the question remains: If the priests of the
Qumran community had removed themselves from the temple cult in
Jerusalem in order to live in isolation along the shores of the Dead Sea,
why would they need to maintain a level of purity that was reserved for
those who were officiating in the temple? In response to this question,
Newton argues that the community “took these measures because it saw
itself as the Temple, ‘a house of holiness for Israel and a foundation of the
Holy of Holies for Aaron’ (1QS 8:5, 6), and as such had to maintain itself in
a pure condition in order to guarantee the divine presence”.32
For Newton, the yahad’s obsession with purity is grounded in the
belief that God had abandoned the temple in Jerusalem and taken up
residence with the members of the Qumran community along the shores
of the Dead Sea. As a ‘sanctuary of men’, the community believed that it
was their responsibility to maintain a high enough level of purity so as
to ensure God’s continued presence in their midst. It was precisely this
burden, argues Newton, that was behind the community’s decision to
combine ritual and moral impurity into a single conception of defilement,
a conception that, from the perspective of its architects, prevented God
from being exposed to any and all forms of impurity.

30 Newton, The Concept of Purity.

31 Newton, The Concept of Purity, 18–19.
32 Newton, The Concept of Purity, 42–43.
502 ian werrett

3. The Concept of Purity at Qumran: 1991–2010

Although many scholars have described the release of the scrolls to the
general public in the fall of 1991 as a watershed moment of tremendous
importance, which it was, the truth of the matter is that this was but one
of many important developments to occur in the field of Qumran studies
at the end of the twentieth century.33 One such moment, which has gone
largely unnoticed, was the appearance in 1993 of two publications that
would set the stage for all subsequent studies on the concept of purity in
the Dead Sea Scrolls: a groundbreaking monograph by Hannah Harrington,
entitled The Impurity Systems of Qumran and the Rabbis,34 and a seminal
article by Florentino García Martínez, entitled “The Problem of Purity:
The Qumran Solution”.35
Regarding the title of García Martínez’s article, it is important to rec-
ognize that the ‘problem’ to which he is referring is related, in part, to
the defilement of the temple that occurred during the Antiochene crisis
(2 Macc 6:1–11). In the wake of this traumatic event, and the subsequent
cleansing and re-dedication of the sanctuary by Judas Maccabaeus in 164
bce, the Jerusalem temple and its maintenance became an increasingly
controversial subject. Even before Antiochus Epiphanes had defiled the
Sanctuary through the installation of an altar to Zeus in the year 167 bce,
differences of opinion regarding the problem of purity had resulted in the

33 The release of the scrolls to the general public was initially instigated by Ben Zion
Wacholder and Martin Abegg, Jr., whose publication, entitled A Preliminary Edition of the
Unpublished Dead Sea Scrolls: The Hebrew and Aramaic Texts from Cave Four, appeared
on the 4th of September 1991. Eighteen days later, the Huntington Library in San Marino,
California published an announcement that appeared in the New York Times stating that
it would be willing to release microfilm copies of the scrolls to any scholar who asked for
them. Responding to these unauthorized publications, the Israel Antiquities Authority, the
body responsible for the official publication of the scrolls, tentatively agreed to make all
of the photographs of the scrolls available on the 27th of October 1991; however, the IAA’s
publication, The Dead Sea Scrolls on Microfiche, would not appear until 1993. The final blow
to the IAA’s so-called ‘monopoly’ on the Dead Sea Scrolls came on the 19th of November
1991, when the Biblical Archaeology Society published a two-volume set of photographs
of the Dead Sea Scrolls, entitled A Facsimile Edition of the Dead Sea Scrolls. For more on
the controversy regarding the publication of the Dead Sea Scrolls, see Shanks, “Of Caves
and Scholars”, xv–xxxviii. And concerning the availability of the scroll corpus, see Eisen-
man and Robinson, A Facsimile Edition of the Dead Sea Scrolls; Tov and Pfann, The Dead
Sea Scrolls on Microfiche; Lim and Alexander, The Dead Sea Scrolls Electronic Reference
Library; García Martínez and Tigchelaar, The Dead Sea Scrolls Study Edition; Foundation
for Ancient Research and Mormon Studies, Brigham Young University, Provo, Utah, Dead
Sea Scrolls Electronic Reference Library.
34 Harrington, The Impurity Systems.
35 García Martínez, “The Problem of Purity”.
 the evolution of purity at qumran 503

formation of the major Jewish sects: the Pharisees, Sadducees and Essenes.
According to García Martínez, subsequent disagreements between these
sects would eventually lead to the creation of various subgroups and the
Dead Sea Scrolls bear witness to the emergence of one such movement.36
García Martínez argues that the nascent Qumran community, as a
subgroup within the Essene sect, would have originally understood the
purity requirements of the Torah as being reserved for the temple and the
priesthood. However, in the documents that have been dated to the com-
munity’s formative period, such as the Temple Scroll and 4QMMT, García
Martínez notes that “there is already a tendency to extend the require-
ments of Temple purity to the whole holy city [of Jerusalem]”.37 This same
tendency, claims García Martínez, is also exhibited in the yahad’s decision
to enlarge the scope of the priestly purity rulings so as to include all Jews,
as when the Temple Scroll prohibits the blind from entering the ‘Temple
City’ (11QT 45:12–13). By barring the blind and unclean individuals from
the city of Jerusalem, the nascent Qumran community was attempting
to hold lay individuals to the same level of purity that was expected of
priests who were officiating in the temple (Lev 21:17–20).
Not surprisingly, the yahad’s zeal for expanding the purity laws of the
Torah to the entire city of Jerusalem and to all Jews was not shared by
many of their contemporaries. According to García Martínez, when the
nascent Qumran community failed to convince the temple priests to
adopt a similar stance on the problem of purity, they broke ties with the
Jerusalem cult and retired into the wilderness of the Judaean Desert (1QS
8:14; 4QMMT C7). During this period of self-imposed exile, the Qumran
community’s halakhic interpretations became increasingly rigorous. This
is most clearly evidenced, argues García Martínez, in the documents from
the community’s latter stages of development, such as the Damascus
Document and 1QS, which repeatedly indicate that the purity of the yahad
takes precedence over the Jerusalem temple and its priestly custodians.
Moreover, as we have noted above, 1QS even goes so far as to suggest that
the yahad was functioning as a temporary replacement for the temple:
When, united by all these precepts, such men as these come to be a commu-
nity in Israel, they shall establish eternal truth guided by the instruction of
His holy spirit. They shall atone for the guilt of transgression and the rebel-
lion of sin, becoming an acceptable sacrifice for the land through the flesh

36 García Martínez, “A Groningen Hypothesis”.

37 García Martínez, “The Problem of Purity”, 157.
504 ian werrett

of burnt offerings, the fat of sacrificial portions and prayer, becoming—as it

were—justice itself, a sweet savor of righteousness and blameless behavior,
a pleasing free-will offering. At that time the men of the Yahad shall with-
draw, the holy house of Aaron uniting as a Holy of Holies . . . (1QS 9:3–9)
Like Neusner and Newton before him, García Martínez agrees that the
Qumran community saw themselves as a temporary replacement for the
temple in Jerusalem. Similarly, García Martínez concurs with the notion
that the yahad deviated from the biblical tradition by combining ritual
and moral impurity into a single conception of defilement. What differen-
tiates García Martínez’s study from those of his predecessors, however, is
the way that he arrives at these conclusions. Whereas Neuser and Newton
were apt to interpret the purity rulings of the scrolls through a synchronic
lens that tends to see the texts from Qumran as being reflective a single
moment in time, García Martínez embraces a diachronic approach that
understands the Dead Sea Scrolls as bearing witness to a lengthy period
of development. By reading the scrolls diachronically, García Martínez
claims to have identified an evolution of thought on the concept of purity
that was largely in line with the biblical model during the yahad’s for-
mative years but that became increasingly stringent as the group tried
to differentiate itself from the temple establishment and their contem-
poraries. In reading these documents diachronically, García Martínez is
also able to suggest a possible connection between the larger historical
narrative of the Second Temple period and the scrolls by claiming that the
Antiochene crisis and the subsequent installation of the Hasmonean High
Priests may have been the impetus behind the Qumran community’s deci-
sion to break its ties with the temple cult and relocate along the shores
of the Dead Sea.38
In contrast to García Martínez, who interprets the purity rulings of the
scrolls in light of the larger historical setting in which they were writ-
ten, Hannah Harrington’s goal in The Impurity Systems of Qumran and the
Rabbis is far more specific: to reconstruct the purity system of the yahad
and to compare it with that of the Mishnah. In order to accomplish this
task Harrington adopts a synchronic approach and limits her discussion
to the laws of ritual purity. Furthermore, she rejects the notion, espoused
by García Martínez and Newton, that the yahad could have constructed a
surrogate temple at Qumran, be it real or metaphorical:

38 García Martínez, “A Groningen Hypothesis”, 126–28.

 the evolution of purity at qumran 505

The sectarians of Qumran regarded themselves as living, not in the sacred

status of the Temple of the present or of the future but in the pure sta-
tus incumbent by the Torah, according to their interpretation, on ordinary
Israelites. They believed that in the eschaton there would be a re-established
Temple at Jerusalem with an accompanying cult, however, it was impossible
to reconstruct a surrogate Temple at Qumran.39
As proof of this interpretation, Harrington cites the absence of an altar at
Qumran and various discrepancies between the legal rulings of the scrolls
and the archeological remains from Qumran. In particular, she points to
the presence of female skeletons in the Qumran cemetery and the exis-
tence of marital regulations in the Dead Sea Scrolls as evidence that the
members of the yahad were sexually active and did not use the Temple
Scroll—a document that prohibits female residents and sexual activity in
the ‘Temple City’ (11QT 45:11–12)40—as a blueprint for recreating a surro-
gate ‘Temple City’ at Qumran. Rather, argues Harrington, the community
was committed to the idea that they should study the laws of the Temple
Scroll in order to prepare for a future date when the temple would be
restored. In this way, observes Harrington, the situation of the Qumran
community was not terribly dissimilar from that of the Rabbis who, after
the destruction of the temple in 70 ce, continued to study and discuss the
Torah’s sacrificial system in the hopes of seeing its eventual restoration.
Although Harrington’s unwillingness to accept the surrogate temple
theory represents a serious departure from her predecessors, her most sig-
nificant contribution to the field of Qumran studies involves her identifi-
cation of the dominant hermeneutical trends in the writings of the yahad
and the Rabbis:
Stark differences in interpretation between the two groups often co-exist.
The sectarians usually increase the stringency of the [biblical] laws in cases
of ambiguity or divergent traditions. On the other hand, it was the continual
concern of the Rabbis to limit not extend the restrictions of the Torah when-
ever possible without incursion of biblical sanctions.41
Unlike the Rabbis, who attempted to interpret Scripture in such a way as
to limit the force of the Torah’s restrictions on the laity, Harrington notes

39 Harrington, The Impurity Systems, 56–57.

40 According to Yigael Yadin, the references in the Temple Scroll to quarantining men-
struants and postpartum women from every city (11QT 48:16–17a), which are absent in the
rules of quarantine for Jerusalem (11QT 46:16b–18), may well suggest that women were not
allowed to live in the ‘Temple City’; Yadin, The Temple Scroll, 1:306–07.
41 Harrington, The Impurity Systems, 43.
506 ian werrett

that the Qumran community repeatedly interpreted Scripture with an eye

towards severity. This predilection for stringency, argues Harrington, was
an outgrowth of the community’s concerns regarding the accidental vio-
lation of the Torah’s legislation. By embracing a stringent hermeneutical
model, the members of the Qumran community had hoped to protect
themselves from any and all transgressions of Scripture, no matter how
small. Unfortunately, this model was far too conservative for the vast
majority of their contemporaries and, according to Harrington, the mem-
bers of the yahad had no choice but to withdraw from mainstream society
in order to pursue their quest for purity in isolation along the shores of
the Dead Sea.
With the appearance of her 2004 publication The Purity Texts,42
Harrington attempted to update her earlier research by taking advantage
of newly published documents and collecting all of the purity data from
Qumran into a single volume. But despite having access to a larger body
of literature, Harrington’s position on the Qumran community’s style of
interpretation remained unchanged:
The many purity texts found at Qumran reveal an approach to purity which
is stringent. The biblical prescriptions for purity are often increased and
impurity is regarded as a more potent force than it is by any other ancient
Jewish group in antiquity.43
Although this conclusion is identical to that of her earlier work, and has
been widely accepted by the members of the Qumran scholarly guild,
Harrington’s understanding of the rationale behind the Qumran commu-
nity’s stringent hermeneutical agenda is vastly different from her earlier
study. Where Harrington had formerly understood the severity of the
group’s legal interpretations as a scholarly pursuit that was related to the
restoration of an eschatological temple, her most recent volume indicates
that the Qumran community’s rigorous approach to purity was an out-
growth of the belief that the yahad had, in fact, become a temporary sub-
stitute for the temple in Jerusalem:
After the break with the Temple, the community is seen as a substitute and
must be protected just as the Temple was. Levels of purity in the community
parallel levels of purity required in the Temple and in the holy city.44

42 Harrington, The Purity Texts.

43 Harrington, The Purity Texts, 12.
44 Harrington, The Purity Texts, 38.
 the evolution of purity at qumran 507

In contrast to her earlier work, which describes the Temple Scroll as an

eschatological document that had little to no bearing on the day-to-day
lives of the Qumran community, Harrington’s most recent volume claims
that the yahad used the Temple Scroll as a blueprint for maintaining a
surrogate sanctuary and ‘Temple City’ at Qumran. In support of this inter-
pretation, Harrington points to a number of halakhic similarities between
the Temple Scroll and the Damascus Document, such as the prohibition
against engaging in sexual activity in the city of the temple (11QT 45:11–12;
CD 12:1–2), and to new archeological evidence indicating that the remains
of women in the Qumran cemetery were Islamic and therefore not con-
temporaneous with the yahad.45 These observations, and others, seem to
have convinced Harrington that the Temple Scroll has far more in com-
mon with the textual and archaeological evidence from Qumran than she
had previously thought, thereby minimizing some of the Temple Scroll’s
seemingly unrealistic and eschatological expectations, such as its prohibi-
tions against allowing the blind, the corpse impure, female residents and
sexual activity in the ‘Temple City’ (11QT 45:7–12, 17).
Before turning to my own contributions on the study of purity at
Qumran, I would like to discuss what is arguably the most comprehensive
analysis to date on the relationship between ritual and moral impurity
in the Dead Sea Scrolls: Impurity and Sin in Ancient Judaism, by Jonathan
Klawans.46 In this compelling study, Klawans embraces a diachronic
approach that is not unlike that of García Martínez. Specifically, both
Klawans and García Martínez argue that the Temple Scroll and 4QMMT,
documents that do not combine ritual and moral impurity into a single
conception of defilement, were written during the Qumran community’s
formative period. Moreover, they also agree that those texts that display
a strong association between sin and impurity, such as the Damascus
Document and the Community Rule, were written during the later stages
of the yahad’s existence. Where Klawans deviates from García Martínez,
however, is on the rationale behind the Qumran community’s shift in
thinking on the subject of purity.
For García Martínez, the members of the yahad left Jerusalem and relo-
cated along the shores of the Dead Sea because they could not convince
the priests in Jerusalem to significantly extend the laws of purity beyond
the walls of the temple complex. After the break with the temple priests

45 Harrington, The Purity Texts, 14; 39; 50–54.

46 Klawans, Impurity and Sin, 21–42.
508 ian werrett

had taken place, the Qumran community’s position on purity became

increasingly stringent and, as noted above, they eventually came to see
themselves as a replacement for the sanctuary in Jerusalem. As the new
temple, the Qumran community needed to protect itself from all forms of
impurity and, according to García Martínez, the combination of ritual and
moral impurity in the scrolls was simply an outgrowth of the community’s
self-understanding as Israel’s new axis mundi. By contrast, Klawans claims
that the Qumran community’s decision to combine moral and ritual impu-
rity into a single conception of defilement may have been the issue that
forced the yahad to retreat into the Judaean Desert in the first place.
According to Klawans, although the Temple Scroll and 4QMMT bear
witness to certain legal disputes between the nascent Qumran commu-
nity and their opponents, these documents do not contain any of the dis-
tinctive features of Qumran sectarianism, such as an interest in dualism,
predestination, messianic figures and angels. Given the absence of these
distinctive features, Klawans claims that these documents were written
during the yahad’s formative years and that the disagreements recorded
in a document like 4QMMT may have led to subsequent quarrels over the
relationship between ritual and moral impurity:
I am not certain which came first—the interest in the defiling force of sin or
the schism—but the fact remains that the defiling force of sin necessitates,
justifies, and reinforces the physical separation of the sectarians from the
larger Jewish polity. If you believe in the maintenance of purity, and you
believe that sin and sinners are defiling, you have little choice but to remove
yourself from that society that you consider to be irredeemably sinful.47
Beyond the suggestion that the Qumran community’s position on the
impurity of sin may have been the motivating factor behind their decision
to leave Jerusalem, Klawans offers yet another hypothesis for the com-
munity’s decision to withdraw from society: the defilement of the land.48
If, according to the Holiness Code (Lev 17–26), sin contaminates Israel
and leads to an expulsion from the land, then the Qumran community
may well have understood their location along the northwest shore of
the Dead Sea as a form of exile (cf. 1QS 8:12–16; Isa 40:3). Although these
theories are compelling and certainly worthy of consideration, Klawans’
most significant contribution to the field of Qumran studies is located in

47 Klawans, Impurity and Sin, 92.

48 Klawans, Impurity and Sin, 88–89.
 the evolution of purity at qumran 509

his detailed analysis of the ways in which ritual and moral impurity have
been combined in the Dead Sea Scrolls.
As Klawans has rightly observed, one of the most unusual aspects of
the relationship between sin and impurity at Qumran involves the idea
that sinful acts render individuals ritually impure. In contrast to the bibli-
cal witness, which treats ritual and moral impurity as separate states of
existence requiring vastly different responses from those who have been
affected, the Community Rule treats sins, such as deceit, blasphemy and
idolatry, as ritually defiling acts (1QS 4:10–11, 21; 7:17–18). Similarly, Klawans
notes that the yahad considered instances of non-sinful behavior, such as
the ritual uncleanness that accompanies a woman’s menstrual cycle, to
be morally defiling (4Q512 29–32 vii 8–9; cf., 4Q274 1–4; Lev 15:19–24). In
both instances, the biblical articulation has been modified and expanded
so as to create a far more rigorous and comprehensive approach to the
concept of purity.
Yet another interesting aspect of the relationship between sin and impu-
rity at Qumran involves the purity of outsiders and insiders. According to
Klawans, the Qumran community considered outsiders to be both ritually
and morally unclean due to their ignorance regarding the proper inter-
pretation of the Torah and their unwillingness to be “disciplined by the
Yahad of His society” (1QS 3:6). Regardless of social status or race, outsid-
ers were permanently defiled and prohibited from touching the Qumran
community’s pure objects and pure foodstuffs (1QS 3:4b–9a). In order to
be cleansed the outsider must become an insider, but even insiders were
not immune to the defiling effects of sinful behavior:
No man belonging to the Covenant of the Community who flagrantly devi-
ates from any commandment is to touch the pure food belonging to the
holy men. Further, he is not to participate in any of their deliberations until
all his works have been cleansed from evil, so that he is again able to walk
blamelessly . . . (1QS 8:16–18)
In order to regain his status as a fully functioning member of the com-
munity, the insider must be cleansed from all of his defilements. Only
through the combination of asking for repentance and engaging in the
community’s expiatory rites could the defiled insider hope to be cleansed
(1QS 3:6–9). “According to the sectarians”, notes Klawans, “moral repen-
tance is not efficacious without ritual purification, and ritual purifica-
tion without moral repentance is equally invalid”.49 One cannot be had

49 Klawans, Impurity and Sin, 85.

510 ian werrett

without the other and the sinful insider was required to engage in both
before being cleansed. An exception to this rule, however, involves the
outsider who was first expected to submit himself to the authority of the
Qumran community. Given that the lustrations of the community’s oppo-
nents were thought to be unclean and ineffective, outsiders would, in the
opinion of the yahad, remain ritually and morally unclean for as long as
they refused to join the ranks of the Qumran community.
My own contributions to the study of purity at Qumran involve a com-
plete reassessment of the purity rulings in the Dead Sea Scrolls. In a 2007
publication, entitled Ritual Purity and the Dead Sea Scrolls,50 I conducted
the first comprehensive analysis of the ritual purity rulings in the scrolls
since the full publication of the legal material from Qumran.51 By adopt-
ing an independent approach that treated each of the documents from
Qumran as a unique composition with its own agenda and point of view,
I had hoped to avoid, as much as humanly possible, reading the texts in
light of one another. Only after treating each of the documents in isola-
tion and allowing them to speak with their own voices did I then compare
my findings. Towards the end of my study I further limited my focus by
examining those rulings that displayed explicit agreement and/or explicit
disagreement that went beyond the witness of Scripture.52 By identifying
examples such as these, I had hoped to locate compelling points of con-
tact that were worthy of further discussion.
At the conclusion of my study I was able to identify nine examples of
explicit agreement and eight examples of explicit disagreement that went
beyond the witness of Scripture.53 Of the nine cases of explicit agreement,
six involve a consensus on the intricacies of corpse impurity, while the
remaining three are concerned with bodily discharges (2×) and sexual

50 Werrett, Ritual Purity.

51 The documents from Qumran that were considered in my study include: the
Damascus Document (CD/DD); 4Q159; 4Q249; 4Q251; 4Q265; 4Q274–278; 4Q284; 4QMMT
(4Q394–399); 4Q414; 4Q472a; 4Q512–514; and the Temple Scroll (11Q19). 1QS, 1QSa, 1QSb,
1QHabPesher and 1QH were not included in this study because they did not contain any
of the five major categories of purity under consideration (i.e., diseases, animals, corpses,
bodily discharges and sexual misdeeds).
52 Unlike implicit examples of agreement/disagreement, which tend to be founded
upon circumstantial evidence, and examples of agreement/disagreement that are in line
with the Hebrew Scriptures, which were the common property of all Jews, examples of
explicit disagreement and agreement that go beyond the witness of Scripture provide
us with a far more precise way to identify common interpretations and/or divergences
between two or more documents, authors, redactors or groups.
53 Werrett, Ritual Purity, 288–305.
 the evolution of purity at qumran 511

misdeeds (1×).54 Similarly, of the eight examples of explicit disagreement

in the scrolls, two take up the issue of corpse impurity while the remain-
ing six are concerned with bodily discharges (4×) and sexual misdeeds
(2×).55 Interestingly, no cases of explicit agreement or disagreement were
discovered in the areas of diseases and animals.
As one might expect, the results of my study have raised some concerns
about the systemic approach and have called into question the nature
of the relationships between the documents from Qumran. Moreover,
the examples of explicit disagreement that I have identified, such as the
lack of concord regarding those who are eligible to sprinkle the ashes of
the Red Heifer,56 have challenged the prevailing notion in the scholarly
guild that the “similarity of the concept and laws of purity [in the scrolls]
are more striking than their differences”.57 If nothing else, the fact that
nearly half of the seventeen cases of explicit agreement and disagreement

54 The cases of explicit agreement include a consensus on the following items: all
objects in a house are rendered impure by the presence of a corpse (CD 12:17b–18; 11Q19
49:5–21a); the ashes of the Red Heifer may not be sprinkled on the Sabbath (4Q251 1–2
6; 4Q265 7 3; 4Q274 2 ii 2–3a); children may not act as sprinklers of the ashes (4Q269
8 ii 6; 4Q277 1 ii 7); the tebul yom is impure until evening (4Q269 8 ii 3b–6; 4Q277 1 ii 2;
4Q394 3–7 i 16b–19a; 11Q19 49:20–21; 50:4b–9, 10–16a; 50:20–51:5a); corpse-contaminated
individuals must engage in a first-day ablution before being sprinkled with the ashes of
the Red Heifer (4Q277 1 ii 7b–10a; 4Q414 2 ii, 3, 3 2, 13 5; 4Q512 1–6 xii 5–6; 11Q19 49:16b–21;
50:10–16a); liquids in a corpse-contaminated house transmit impurity to the first degree
(CD 12:15b–17a; 11Q19 49:9–10); men with a bodily discharge must be quarantined (4Q274
1 i 0–2; 11Q19 46:16b–18; 48:14–17a); a person who has had an emission of semen transmits
impurity through his touch (4Q274 1 i 8b–9; 4Q272 1 ii 3b–7a); sexual relations are prohib-
ited in the city of the temple (CD 12:1–2a; 11Q19 45:11–12a).
55 Instances of explicit disagreement that go beyond the witness of Scripture include:
a lack of concord over who is eligible to sprinkle the ashes of the Red Heifer (4Q269 8 ii
4b–6a; 4Q394 3–7 i 17–19a; 4Q277 1 ii 5b–7a); a disagreement on the proper way to go about
cleansing household items that have been rendered impure by a corpse (4Q269 8 ii 3–6;
11Q19 49:16–20); differing opinions on the appropriate distance between a camp/city and
its latrines (1Q33 7:6b–7; 11Q19 46:13–16a); a disagreement on whether or not a newborn
child is ritually pure (4Q265 7 11–17; 4Q266 6 ii 5–12); diverging opinions on how to purify
a man with a bodily discharge (4Q512 10 x 1–2, 11 x 2–5; 11Q19 45.15–17a); a disagreement on
the appropriate way to purify those who have come in contact with a man who has had
a bodily discharge (4Q274 1 i 5; 4Q277 1 ii 10b–13); conflicting opinions on whether or not
uncle/niece unions are valid (4Q543 1 5–6 1–7; CD 5:7–11; 4Q251 17 2–3; 11Q19 66:16–17); and
lack of agreement on whether or not Jew/Gentile unions are prohibited (CD 19:15–21; 4Q251
17 7; 4Q394 8 iii 9b–19a; 4Q396 1–2 iv 4–11a; 4Q513 2 ii 2–5; 11Q19 57:15b–17a; 63:10–15).
56 According to the Damascus Document and 4QMMT, the ashes of the Red Heifer
(Num 19) had to be sprinkled by a clean man who had waited until evening (4Q269 8 ii
4b–6a; 4Q394 3–7 i 17–19a). By contrast, 4Q277 1 ii 5b–7a claims that the sprinkler of the
ashes had to be a clean priest.
57 Harrington, The Purity Texts, 12.
512 ian werrett

are instances of disagreement shows that the similarities and differences

between the purity laws in the Dead Sea Scrolls are equally compelling.
Following in the footsteps of García Martínez and Klawans, I have
attempted to explain the discrepancies among the purity rulings in the
scrolls by embracing a diachronic approach. While this approach has
enabled me to account for many of the disagreements in the scrolls, it
was unable to account for them all. For example, like my colleagues, I
too observed what appeared to be an evolution of thought in the scrolls
on the relationship between ritual and moral impurity. And although this
evolution seemed to explain the lack of concord between certain rulings,
such as the disagreement in the scrolls over the proper way to purify
objects from corpse contamination,58 it is also true that the Temple Scroll
was frequently at odds with the rest of the texts from Qumran. Of the
eight examples of explicit disagreement that I have identified, six involve
a lack of agreement between the Temple Scroll and the rest of the texts
from Qumran. This observation, combined with the fact that the Temple
Scroll displays a number of utopian characteristics, such as its unheeded
divine call to construct a gigantic temple complex that, if built, would have
been equal in size to the entire city of Jerusalem (11Q19 3–13:8; 30:3–47:18),
would seem to suggest that the genre and provenance of the scrolls may
well have a major role to play in the ever-evolving discussion on purity
at Qumran.
Based on the results of my study, I have concluded that the Dead Sea
Scrolls fail to contain a cohesive purity system. This conclusion is also
supported by the work of Klawans, who has observed that although the
ideas of ritual and moral impurity have been combined into a single con-
ception of defilement in certain documents (i.e., 1QS, 1QH, 1QM, 4Q274,
4Q277, 4Q414 and 4Q512) there is no equivalent association between these
types of impurity in the Temple Scroll or 4QMMT. Given this lack of con-
cord, I find myself in agreement with Klawans, who has suggested that
“the ‘systemic’ methods advocated by some scholars—whereby a single

58 Where the Temple Scroll requires corpse-contaminated clothing, sacks and skins to
be washed in water (11Q19 49:16a–20), the Damascus Document indicates that skins, cloth-
ing and utensils that have been rendered unclean by a corpse are to be sprinkled with the
ashes of the Red Heifer (4Q269 8 ii 3b–6a). This deviation may well be representative of
an evolution of thought on the subject of the ashes of the Red Heifer whereby its range
of cleansing abilities was gradually expanded beyond that of the protosectarian document
(i.e., the Temple Scroll) so as to include any items that had been rendered ritually and
morally impure through a corpse.
 the evolution of purity at qumran 513

purity system is discerned in diverse Qumran texts—is to be called into

question”.59
While I admit to being partial to the diachronic approach, which
has been employed to good effect by the likes of García Martínez and
Klawans, this approach is not without drawbacks. In particular, not only
is the diachronic approach overly dependent upon the notion that there
is a concrete relationship between the documents in the so-called ‘library’
of Qumran, but it cannot easily account for disagreements between two or
more texts that were written during the same period of time.60
It goes without saying that there are other ways to try to explain the
explicit cases of agreement and disagreement between the purity rulings
in the scrolls, but these approaches have similar limitations. For example,
while it is possible to use the genre and contents of a text to determine
whether or not it is a Qumran composition, none of the so-called ‘sectar-
ian texts’ are so far afield from the rest of the documents at Qumran so as
to indicate that a rival sect may have authored them. Furthermore, even
if the genre of a sectarian text appears to be utopian or eschatological, we
cannot know with absolute certainty how the members of the yahad may
have interpreted a document at all times during their nearly two hundred
year history at Qumran (c. 130 bce to 68 ce). Even if the Qumran com-
munity eventually came to see themselves as a temporary replacement
for the temple and applied the rules and regulations of the Temple Scroll
to themselves, doing so would have conflicted with the witness of the
Temple Scroll, which clearly indicates that its purity rulings were intended
for the city of Jerusalem and a massive sanctuary that never saw the light
of day.
Another possible way to understand the differences in the purity rulings
from Qumran is as a naturally occurring phenomenon. Gaps and ambigui-
ties in Scripture can be interpreted in any number of ways and, regard-
less of how well defined a group’s identity is, divergent interpretations

59 Klawans, Impurity and Sin, 90–91.

60 This is particularly true in relation to the explicit disagreement in the scrolls over the
purity of a newborn child (4Q265 7 11–17 and 4Q266 6 ii 10b–11). Here we have an example
of two texts that exhibit different opinions on the same subject but were authored at
roughly the same time, contain overlapping material and were stored in the same cave.
Although Charlotte Hempel has noted that the author/redactor of 4Q265 frequently exhib-
its an “independent treatment” of the overlapping passages from 4Q266, as well as other
manuscripts of the Damascus Document, the diachronic approach cannot easily explain
these types of disagreements. Werrett, Ritual Purity, 298; Hempel, The Laws of the Damas-
cus Document, 103.
514 ian werrett

are bound to appear. This is most certainly true of the rabbinic material,
which contains countless examples of disagreements that go beyond the
witness of the Hebrew Scriptures. Given that several hundred scribes were
responsible for authoring and redacting the Dead Sea Scrolls, it stands
to reason that some of the aforementioned disagreements reflect legiti-
mate differences of opinion and/or unintentional scribal mistakes. It is
also possible that, like the rabbis, the yahad tolerated and even encour-
aged a modicum of disagreement on the purity rulings and their proper
interpretation. Although I find the latter proposal to be quite appealing, it
would seem to be undermined by the witness of the sectarian documents,
which, purity rulings aside, are overwhelmingly compatible in terms of
their terminology, theology and calendrical concerns.
In spite of its shortcomings, and the strengths of competing approaches,
a diachronic reading of the purity rulings from Qumran is to be preferred
for four reasons: (1) it enables us to explain the differences between those
texts that combine ritual and moral impurity into a single conception of
defilement and those that do not; (2) it provides us with an explanation
as to why it is that composite texts, such as the Damascus Document, con-
tain sectarian and non-sectarian elements; (3) it give us a tool to recon-
cile cases of explicit disagreement within the corpus of texts far better
than the systemic approach, which is severely undermined by any lack of
agreement; and (4) it sheds light on why it is that some of the texts from
Qumran seem to reflect legal positions that are in line with the biblical
model, whereas others elaborate on the biblical model in the direction of
severity in order to account for a wider range of possibilities.
Even if I had not uncovered numerous examples of explicit disagree-
ment in the purity rulings of the Dead Sea Scrolls, the consensus opinion
regarding the yahad and its evolution from a group that initially supported
the idea of the temple to one that removed itself from Jerusalem, relo-
cated along the shores of the Dead Sea, and ultimately came to see itself
as a replacement for the temple, argues against the notion that the Dead
Sea Scrolls contain a cohesive purity system. The very act of changing the
locus of purity from the temple in Jerusalem to the members of the yahad
is reflective of a massive shift in thinking that would have had monumen-
tal repercussions on the Qumran community’s purity rulings. This evolu-
tion of thought, which would have taken several generations to complete,
is reflected in the scrolls in the form of the aforementioned explicit dis-
agreements and in the increasingly stringent approach to purity that the
Qumran community seems to have embraced prior to their destruction at
the hands of the Romans in 68 ce.
 the evolution of purity at qumran 515

Conclusion

The study of purity in the Dead Sea Scrolls is, in many ways, only just
beginning. Although scholars have been writing on the subject of purity at
Qumran since the discovery of the scrolls in late 1940’s, many of the early
publications on the subject were hampered by an inability to access all
of the documents in this corpus of texts. Limited access to the scrolls led
many scholars to understand the vast majority of the non-biblical scrolls
as having a ‘Qumranic’ origin. Moreover, scholars frequently used the
purity rulings in the scrolls to identify the authors rather than using them
to comment on the nature of the rulings themselves.
Much has changed since the release of the scrolls to the general pub-
lic in 1991, and many of the synchronic and systemic conclusions that
were generated by the first generation of Qumran scholars must now be
abandoned. In spite of its shortcomings, a diachronic reading of the
scrolls would seem to be the most fruitful way to understand the explicit
agreements and disagreements between the purity rulings in the Dead
Sea Scrolls.
Over the course of its two hundred year history, the Qumran com-
munity seems to have moved further and further away from the temple
cult in Jerusalem and, as a result, the type of Judaism that they ended up
practicing became more and more insular and severe. From a diachronic
perspective, the increasing stringency of the yahad’s interpretations can
be explained by the Qumran community’s belief that the Sanctuary in
Jerusalem had been defiled and by the fact that the members of the com-
munity had, at some point in their history, come to see themselves as
being representative of a surrogate temple of flesh and blood. As the true
Israel and the only legitimate Sanctuary of God, the Qumran community
believed that only they had the ability to maintain an appropriate rela-
tionship with the God of Israel. This radical evolution of thought, which
did not happen overnight, appears to have inspired the community to
embrace a progressively severe stance on the subject of purity and to com-
bine the concepts of ritual and moral impurity into a single conception
of defilement. By combining the concepts of sin and impurity, the theolo-
gians of the Qumran community had hoped to create an environment in
which the members of their group would be free from all forms of impu-
rity so as to ensure the continued presence of God in their midst.
Although the diachronic approach has enabled us to place the Qumran
community into a larger historical context and to identify their evolution
of thought on the relationship between sin and impurity, which is no
516 ian werrett

small feat, alternative methodological approaches, such as those in the

areas of literary criticism, feminist criticism, source criticism and social
scientific criticism, will no doubt take us in new and exciting directions.
As these alternative approaches are brought to bear on the legal mate-
rial in the Dead Sea Scrolls, our understanding of the notion of purity at
Qumran will continue to evolve.

Bibliography

Baumgarten, Joseph, Torleif Elgvin, Esther Eshel, Erik Larson, Manfred R. Lehmann,
Stephen Pfann, and Lawrence H. Schiffman, eds. Qumran Cave 4 XXV: The Halakhic
Texts. Discoveries in the Judean Desert XXXV. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1999.
——, ed. Qumran Cave 4 XIII: The Damascus Document (4Q266–273): Discoveries in the
Judean Desert XVIII. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1996.
Botterweck, Johannes G., and Helmer Ringgren, eds. Theological Dictionary of the
Old Testament. Translated by J. T. Willis. 10 vols. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans,
1964–1976.
Brownlee, William H. “A Comparison of the Covenanters of the Dead Sea Scrolls with Pre-
Christian Jewish Sects”. Biblical Archaeologist 13,3 (1950): 49–72.
Donceel, Robert and Pauline Donceel-Voûte. “The Archaeology of Khirbet Qumran”. Pages
1–38 in Methods of Investigation of the Dead Sea Scrolls and the Khirbet Qumran Site:
Present Realities and Future Prospects. Edited by M. O. Wise, N. Golb, J. J. Collins and
D. G. Pardee. Annals of the New York Academy of Sciences 722. New York: New York
Academy of Sciences, 1994.
Eisenman, Robert H. James the Brother of Jesus: The Key to Unlocking the Secrets of Early
Christianity and the Dead Sea Scrolls. New York: Penguin Books, 1997.
——, and James M. Robinson, eds. A Facsimile Edition of the Dead Sea Scrolls. 2 vols.
Washington, D. C.: Biblical Archaeology Society, 1991.
Flusser, David. “The Dead Sea Sect and Pre-Pauline Christianity”. Pages 215–66 in Aspects of
the Dead Sea Scrolls. Edited by C. Rabin and Y. Yadin. Jerusalem: Magness Press, 1958.
García Martínez, Florentino, and Eibert J. C. Tigchelaar. The Dead Sea Scrolls Study Edition.
2 vols. Leiden: Brill, 1997–1998.
——. The Dead Sea Scrolls Translated: The Qumran Texts in English. 2d ed. Leiden: Brill, 1996.
——. “The Problem of Purity: The Qumran Solution”. Pages 139–57 in The People of the
Dead Sea Scrolls. Edited by F. García Martínez and J. Trebolle Barrera. Leiden: Brill, 1995.
——. “Qumran Origins and Early History: A Groningen Hypothesis”. Folia Orientalia 25
(1988): 113–36.
Gärtner, Bertil. The Temple and the Community in Qumran and the New Testament: A
Comparative Study in the Temple Symbolism of the Qumran Texts and the New Testament.
Society for New Testament Studies: Monograph Series 1. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1965.
Ginzberg, Louis. An Unknown Jewish Sect. New York: 1922. Repr., New York: Jewish
Theological Seminary of America, 1976.
Golb, Norman. Who Wrote the Dead Sea Scrolls? The Search for the Secret of Qumran. New
York: Scribner, 1994.
Harrington, Hannah K. The Purity Texts. Companion to the Qumran Scrolls 5. London:
T & T Clark, 2004.
——. The Impurity Systems of Qumran and the Rabbis: Biblical Foundations. Society of
Biblical Literature: Dissertation Series 143. Atlanta, Ga.: Scholars Press, 1993.
 the evolution of purity at qumran 517

Hempel, Charlotte. The Laws of the Damascus Document: Sources, Tradition and Redaction.
Studies on the Texts of the Desert of Judah 29. Leiden: Brill, 1998.
Hirschfeld, Yizhar. Qumran in Context: Reassessing the Archaeological Evidence. Peabody,
Mass.: Hendrickson, 2004.
Huppenbauer, Hans W. “THR and THRH in der Sektenregel von Qumran”. Theologische
Zeitschrift 13 (1957): 350–51.
Klawans, Jonathan. Impurity and Sin in Ancient Judaism. New York: Oxford University
Press, 2000.
Lim, Timothy H., and Phillip S. Alexander, eds. The Dead Sea Scrolls Electronic Reference
Library. Leiden: Brill, 1997.
Magen, Yitzhak, and Yuval Peleg. “The Qumran Excavations 1993–2004: Preliminary
Report”. Offprint of Judea and Samaria Publications 6. Jerusalem: Israel Antiquities
Authority, 2007.
Magness, Jodi. The Archaeology of Qumran and the Dead Sea Scrolls. Studies in the Dead
Sea Scrolls and related Literature. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2002.
Metso, Sarianna. The Serekh Texts. Library of Second Temple Studies 62: Companion to the
Qumran Scrolls 9. London: T & T Clark, 2006.
Milgrom, Jacob. “Israel’s Sanctuary: The Priestly ‘Picture of Dorian Gray’”. Revue Biblique
83,3 (1976): 390–99.
Milik, Józef T. Ten Years of Discoveries in the Desert of Judaea. Studies in Biblical Theology
26. London: SCM Press, 1959.
Neusner, Jacob. The Idea of Purity in Ancient Judaism. The Haskell Lectures 1972,73. Leiden:
Brill, 1973.
Newton, Michael. The Concept of Purity at Qumran and in the Letters of Paul. Society for
New Testament Studies: Monograph Series 53. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1985.
Qimron, Elisha, and John Strugnell, eds. Qumran Cave 4 V: Miqsat Ma‘ase Ha-Torah:
Discoveries in the Judean Desert X. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1994.
Rabin, Chaim, ed., and trans. The Zadokite Documents: Vol. 1: The Admonition: Vol. 2: The
Laws Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1954.
Ringgren, Helmer. “‫”טהר‬. Pages 291–295 in Theological Dictionary of the Old Testament.
Vol. 5. Edited by G. J. Botterweck and H. Ringgren. Translated by J. T. Willis, G. W.
Bromiley, and D. E. Green. 10 vols. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1974–1996.
——. The Faith of Qumran: Theology of the Dead Sea Scrolls. Philadelphia: Fortress Press,
1963. Repr., New York: The Crossroad Publishing Company, 1995.
Robinson, John A. T. “The Baptism of John and the Qumran Community: Testing a
Hypothesis”. Harvard Theological Review 50,3 (1957): 175–91.
Schechter, Solomon. Documents of Jewish Sectaries: Vol. 1: Fragments of a Zadokite Work.
Cambridge: University Press, 1910.
Schiffman, Lawrence H. Reclaiming the Dead Sea Scrolls: The History of Judaism, the
Background of Christianity, the Lost Library of Qumran. The Anchor Bible Reference
Library. New York: Doubleday, 1995.
Shanks, Hershel. “Of Caves and Scholars: An Overview”. Pages xv–xxxviii in Understanding
the Dead Sea Scrolls: A Reader from the Biblical Archaeology Review. Edited by H. Shanks.
New York: Random House, 1992.
Sukenik, Eleazar. Megillot Genuzot: Sequira Rishona. Jerusalem: Mossad Bialiak, 1948.
Thiering, Barbara. Jesus and the Riddle of the Dead Sea Scrolls: Unlocking the Secrets of His
Life Story. New York: Harper Collins, 1992.
Tov, Emanuel, ed. The Dead Sea Scrolls Database (Non-Biblical Texts). The Dead Sea Scrolls
Electronic Reference Library. vol. 2. Prepared by the Foundation for Ancient Research
and Mormon Studies (FARMS). Leiden: Brill, 1999.
——, and Stephan J. Pfann, eds. The Dead Sea Scrolls on Microfiche: A Comprehensive
Facsimile Edition of the Texts from the Judean Desert. Leiden: Brill, 1993.
518 ian werrett

VanderKam, James C. The Dead Sea Scrolls Today. Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1994.
Vaux, Roland de. Archaeology and the Dead Sea Scrolls. The Schweich Lectures of the
British Academy 1959. London: Oxford University Press, 1973.
Werrett, Ian C. Ritual Purity and the Dead Sea Scrolls. Studies on the Texts of the Desert of
Judah 72. Leiden: Brill, 2007.
Yadin, Yigael. The Temple Scroll: 3 vols. and Supplement. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration
Society, 1983.
 PURITY CONCEPTIONS IN THE DEAD SEA SCROLLS:
‘RITUAL-PHYSICAL’ AND
‘MORAL’ PURITY IN A DIACHRONIC PERSPECTIVE

Gudrun Holtz

In recent years, a large number of scholarly works have been published on

purity issues in the Dead Sea Scrolls (DSS). Taking its point of departure
from J. Klawans’ book Impurity and Sin in Ancient Judaism, the present
article aims to reexamine two aspects of the discussion about purity in the
DSS. The first aspect is the question of the adequacy of extant diachronic
models to explain the different perspectives on the relationship between
ritual-physical and moral (im)purity.1 The issue is explicitly discussed in
part one and is in the background of parts two and three. The second
aspect concerns the question of the specific forms of the relationship
between ritual-physical and moral impurity in the scrolls (parts 2 and 3).
In this context, the adequacy of the category of ‘moral’ purity for parts of
the texts is problematized and a further category, namely ‘constitutional’
impurity, introduced (part 2).

1. Ritual-Physical and Moral Purity in a

Diachronic Perspective: The Problem

On the question of the development of the relationship between ritual-

physical and moral purity in the DSS, J. Klawans and E. Regev have each
in recent years proposed models differentiating three stages.2

1 I wish to thank Mr. Trevor Hyde for revising the English of this article, and the par-
ticipants of the workshop “Reinheit als kulturelle Leitdifferenz” held at Bochum in January
2009 for their contributions to the discussion of the paper, which helped me sharpen some
of the arguments forwarded here.
The phenomenon of what in scholarship is mostly described as ‘ritual’ purity—cf. e.g.
Klawans, Impurity, 23—here is called ‘ritual-physical’ purity. This term is used to indicate,
on the one hand, that the purity issues in view concern a person’s body and, on the other,
that there are rituals that concern non-physical aspects of purity as well, namely, its ethi-
cal-moral dimension; see below, p. 531. The term ‘ritual’ is used in keeping with common
scholarly terminology. In this article the term ‘purity’ is used both for the overall phenom-
enon of purity and impurity and for the state of cleanliness as opposed to impurity.
2 See Klawans, Impurity, 48–56; 67–91, esp. 91; Regev, “Temple”, 252–60.
520 gudrun holtz

Klawans recognizes a “clear evolution of ideas”. The first stage, as

represented by 11QT and 4QMMT, he sees as characterized by the non-
integration of physical and moral impurity. The third stage, as represented
by 1QS, 1QM and 1QH, he believes to show the “full integration of ritual
and moral impurity into a single conception of defilement”, whereas the
second stage, as seen in CD, is said to be a combination of both the first
and the third stages.3 According to Regev, on the other hand, in the first
stage physical purity clearly dominates, as is demonstrated principally in
4QMMT, a letter from the Teacher of Righteousness and his group to the
high priest, later called the “wicked priest”. Only at the end of the let-
ter is moral impurity, of which ‘the multitude of the people’ is accused
(C 6–9), to be found. Regev judges the attempt of the ‘wicked priest’ to
assassinate the Teacher to be decisive in the further development of the
idea of purity in Qumran. Consequently, the Teacher’s group disqualified
the ‘wicked priest’ as morally impure.4 Accordingly, in CD, one of the
documents ascribed to the second phase, the defilement of the temple is
understood to be due to the moral impurity of the high priest and some
of the worshippers.5 Finally, in 1QS, the document representing the third
stage, “immorality, wickedness, and their defiling consequences seem to
pervade the entire world outside the realm of the Qumran sect”.6
Both models have difficulties in the second and third stages. Both
Klawans and Regev adduce texts from CD 4–6 for the second phase,
which they understand in terms of moral impurity. These interpretations,
however, are not without problems.
At the center of Klawans’ analysis is CD 5:6–9. He rightly understands
the prohibition of incest (ll. 8–9) as illustrating the moral dimension of
pure and impure. He claims that the same is true for the sin of cohabi-
tation with a menstruant (ll. 6–7), since the wording of the passage “is
clearly related in some direct way to the . . . prohibition of cohabitation
with a menstruant (Lev 18:19)”.7 This rule is part of the Holiness Code,
which for Klawans is a reflection of the idea of moral defilement.8 Several
arguments, however, can be adduced for interpreting this text primarily in
terms of ritual-physical impurity: (1) The 4QD materials point to the fact

3 Klawans, Impurity, 91.

4 Cf. 1QpHab 8:8–13.
5 Cf. Regev, “Temple”, 257–59, on the basis of CD 6:11–17 and 4:15–19.
6 Regev, “Temple”, 259.
7 Klawans, Impurity, 54.
8 But see Himmelfarb, “Impurity”, 12–13.
 purity conceptions in the dead sea scrolls 521

that the prohibition of cohabitation with a menstruant is formulated with

not just Lev 18:199 but also Lev 15:24, a text clearly dealing with physical
impurity, in view.10 (2) In CD 5:6–7, two commonalities with Lev 15:24
can be observed: The texts share the verb ‘lie’ (‫ )שכב‬as well as the idea of
transmission of impurity from the woman to the man. (3) According to
Lev 15:31, the physical impurities mentioned earlier in the chapter, among
them impurity due to cohabitation with a menstruant, are apt to pollute
the temple. Exactly this is presupposed in CD 5:6–7. Although physical
impurity is the main thrust of CD 5:6–7, an interpretation that includes
the additional context of CD/4QD illustrates that a moral dimension of
the text cannot be completely dismissed.11
Klawans’ main example for moral impurity in CD, then, turns out to be
a combination of both physical and moral impurity. In his model, the text
serves as a major example for the first phase of the development of purity
conceptions in Qumran. Because the main example for the first phase is
not without difficulties, Klawans’ second phase, defined as a combination
of the first and the third phases, stands on rather weak ground as well.
In addition, it may be noted that the CD materials adduced for the third
phase are rather sparse.12
Regev’s interpretation of CD materials for the second phase involves
similar problems. According to CD 4:17–18, the three nets of Belial are
fornication, wealth and defilement of the temple. Regev understands the
latter in terms of moral defilement, thereby ignoring the fact that the
defilement of the temple is interpreted in CD 5:6–9 in both moral and
physical terms. Furthermore, the high priest who stands center stage in
Regev’s argument is not even mentioned.13

9 Cf. 4Q273 5 4–5, ‫ עד‬. . . ‫[ מימי ספרה את דם‬. . .] [. . . ‫אל יקח איש את האש ]ה‬,
[. . .]‫ אשר י‬and see Werrett, Purity, 87.
10 Cf. 4Q266 6 i 1–2, ‫ו[א]יש [אשר י[קרב ]אליה ע[ון נדה על‬, and see Werrett, Purity,
87.
11 Cf. 4Q266 6 ii 1–2, a text alluding to Lev 15:24, which interprets the impurity of the
male caused by prohibited cohabitation with a menstruant as iniquity (‫)עון נדה‬. However,
it is not physical impurity as caused by the flux that is morally defiling, but rather the
transgression of the law; see Himmelfarb, “Impurity”, 21. For reasons of space, the argu-
ments from the context adduced by Klawans, Impurity, 52–56, in support of his strictly
moral reading of CD 5:6–7 cannot be discussed in detail. Suffice it to note that they are
not without difficulties either.
12 Cf. Klawans, Impurity, 75–88.
13 The latter is true of Regev’s second example, CD 6:11–17, as well; cf. idem, “Temple”,
258–59.
522 gudrun holtz

As concerns his third stage, Klawans argues both with texts that pre-
date the foundation of the yahad and with texts that go back to the
Community itself. Basic to his argument is the passage about the two spir-
its (1QS 3:13–4:26), which is believed by a number of scholars today to have
originated between 200 and 150 bce.14 The same holds true of 4QTohorot
(4Q274–278)15 and seems to apply as well to those of his prooftexts from
1QS 5–9 that have parallels in 4QS 256 and 4QS 258. Both manuscripts
go back to the very early phase of the community, possibly to the period
before the Teacher of Righteousness joined the predecessor group of
the yahad.16
This is to say that much of the material adduced by Klawans for the
third phase of his model is older than 4QMMT and CD, which texts are
claimed by him for the first and second phases.17 There is good reason to
assume that the different relationships between physical and moral impu-
rity described by both Klawans and Regev already existed by 150 bce.18 It
therefore seems necessary to ask for non-chronological models explain-
ing the different relationships between ritual-physical and moral purity
as well.19

2. Ritual-Physical, Moral and Constitutional Purity

In current scholarship the categories most discussed are ritual-physical

and moral purity. Further clarifications, however, seem necessary.

2.1. The Relationship between Ritual-Physical and Moral Purity

As mentioned above, the third phase of Klawans’ model is characterized
by the identification of ritual-physical and moral impurity.20 Other schol-
ars, such as Regev and Himmelfarb, however, understand both dimensions

14 Cf. Lange, Lichtenberger, “Qumran”, 57.

15 See Harrington, Texts, 57.
16 Cf. Lange, Lichtenberger, “Qumran”, 58.
17 This argument partially applies to the texts selected by Regev for the first and second
phases of his model as well.
18 This is self-evident as regards the texts of the first phase. The texts of phase two are
connected by Klawans with texts clearly dating before 150 bce ( Jub.). For the third phase,
see n. 13–15 and the following.
19 For a further critique of Klawans’ diachronic model, cf. Werrett, Purity, 298–303.
20 Further cf. Newton, Concept, 40; 46–47; 49, and Baumgarten, “Rituals”, 209; concern-
ing 4Q512, Baumgarten, Damascus Document, 56; 146.
 purity conceptions in the dead sea scrolls 523

to exist side by side.21 In what follows, this controversy is analyzed afresh

on the basis of two major examples that Klawans adduces to support his
thesis of the identification of ritual-physical and moral impurity.
The author of 1QH 9 [1]:21–24 characterizes the human ‘I’ in four pairs.
The first pair describes its material dimension: The ‘I’ is “a creature of
clay and fashioned with water”. The second pair is made up of two terms
that need to be clarified: “a foundation of shame and a source of impurity
(‫”)סוד הערוה ומקור הנדה‬.22 The third human ‘I’ is described as “an oven
of iniquity and a building of sin”; these attributes are related to human
action and clearly have a moral dimension. The final characterization
concerns the spiritual-moral dimension of the human ‘I’: It is “a spirit of
error and depravity without knowledge”, to which “terrified by your judg-
ments” is added as a third attribute.
As concerns the second pair, the semantic evidence and its position
in the sequence of terms advocate an understanding in terms of physi-
cal impurity. ‫ ערוה‬is “used regularly for the dualistic portrayal of man’s
corporeal nature”;23 ‫ מקור‬refers to “a source of liquid flowing from the
body”.24 As is usual in the DSS, ‫ נדה‬here is used of pollution caused by
death and bodily discharges.25 Accordingly, 1QH 9 is not concerned with
characterizing iniquity and sin as ‘ritually’ defiling26 but with qualifying
the bodily existence of humans in terms of physical impurity. Physical and
moral impurity in 1QH 9, then, stand side by side, representing the two
dimensions of the human ‘I’, the physical and the moral.
This can be seen similarly in 1QS 3:3–12. The text first contends with
the impossibility of physical and moral purification for those who refuse
to join the covenant set up within the realm of the yahad (ll. 3–6). In its
second part (ll. 6–12), the conditions are formulated under which puri-
fication seems possible. Both parts of the text are closely related and
interpret each other. Lines 6–8 clearly show that the impossibility of non-
members becoming pure by ‘acts of atonement’ (‫ ;כפורים‬l. 4) refers to

21 Cf. Himmelfarb, “Impurity”, 9–10; 36–37; and Regev, “Temple”, 266–77; see further
Harrington, “Nature”.
22 If not mentioned otherwise, the translation follows García Martínez and Tigchelaar,
Scrolls.
23 Baumgarten, Tohorot, 93.
24 Levine, Leviticus, 75. In Lev 12:7 and 20:18 ‫ מקור‬refers to the female flux, in 1QM 7:6
and 4Q514 4 7 to male sexual organs; see Milgrom, Leviticus, 973. For ‫ מקור נדה‬further cf.
1QH 20 [12]:25.
25 See Baumgarten, Tohorot, 86; but see below p. 526 with n. 32.
26 Cf. Klawans, Impurity, 76; 84.
524 gudrun holtz

moral impurity due to iniquity and sin. From the term ‘flesh’ (‫ ;בשר‬l. 9),
however, which signifies the corporeal nature of humans, it follows that
the purification waters mentioned in ll. 4–5 refer to physical impurity.
But both physical and moral purity, according to 1QS 3:3–12, are obtained
in the first place not by human purificatory rituals but by the Holy Spirit,
which effects the cleansing of the human spirit by transforming it into a
spirit of uprightness and humility (ll. 7–8).27 In this spirit, “compliance
of his soul with all the laws of God”, that is, the law as interpreted by the
yahad, is attained. Only then, “his flesh is cleansed by being sprinkled with
cleansing waters . . .” (ll. 8–9). Moral cleansing, then, is the precondition
for the efficacy of the cleansing waters.
Again, what is in view is not the identification of moral and physical
purity. Rather, both human acts of purification, the moral atonement of
sin by the spirit of uprightness and humility and the—ritual-physical—
cleansing of the flesh, although intimately linked, remain distinct. Yet, the
clear prevalence of moral purity can be observed. It is best explained by
the preceding context, which is about the conversion of the ‘heart’ from
wickedness to the ‘just judgments’ of the yahad (2:25–3:3).

2.2. Moral and Constitutional Impurity

Against the background of 1QH 9:21–24 and 1QS 3:3–12, the question arises
of whether ‘moral’ is an adequate category to describe the type of impu-
rity in view in these and similar texts. The category of ‘moral’ impurity
as used by Klawans on the basis of texts from the Hebrew Bible presup-
poses the possibility of choosing between good and evil, between obedi-
ence and disobedience to the law. In 1QH 9 and 1QS 3, however, humans
do not have the capability to act morally. They are subject to circum-
stances that only allow them to sin. As little as they are able to influence
the state of their bodily purity, so are they unable to affect their actions.
The related type of impurity here is described as ‘constitutional’ impurity.
It is a fundamental anthropological category that applies to all human
beings without exception. For all of them, willingly or unwillingly, share
in basically the same anthropological condition set for them by God and/
or his agents. ‘Constitutional impurity’ is concerned with what is pos-
sessed by humans from birth. It cannot be completely removed by ritual

27 Cf. the parallel expressions . . . ‫( ברוח עצת אמת אל דרכי איש יכופרו‬ll. 6–7), ‫וברוח‬
‫( קדושה ליחד באמתו יטהר מכול עוונותו‬ll. 7–8) and ‫וברוח יושר וענו)ת(ה תכופר חטתו‬
(l. 8).
 purity conceptions in the dead sea scrolls 525

means. Similarly, ‘genealogical’ impurity cannot be overcome ritually.

‘Constitutional’ impurity, however, differs from ‘genealogical’ im/purity
in that it transcends any human divide: the divide between Israel and
the nations as well as genealogical differentiations within Israel or, as the
case may be, within Essene Judaism, namely priests, Levites, Israelites and
proselytes. ‘Genealogical purity’ serves inner-human categorizations that
aim at defining boundaries between different groups of human beings. By
way of contrast, ‘constitutional purity’ operates within the opposition of
God’s perfection and holiness and human imperfection.
‘Constitutional impurity’ is represented in two forms: the wretchedness
of the human ‘I’ in contrast to the glory of God on the one hand and, in
the context of dualism, rootedness in predestination on the other.28 The
first form manifests in 1QS 11:9–15.29 The hymn first describes the wretch-
edness of the human ‘I’ who cannot but sin:
9 . . . However, I belong to evil humankind, to the assembly of unfaithful
flesh; my failings, my iniquities, my sins . . . with the depravities of my heart
10 belong to the assembly of worms and of those who walk in darkness. For
to man (does not belong) his path.
The hymn then turns to praise the power, mercy and justice of the God
(ll. 10–15) who is the only hope for the wretched ‘I’:
14 . . . he will judge me in the justice of his truth, and in his plentiful goodness
always atone (‫ )יכפר‬for all my sins; in his justice he will cleanse me (‫)יטהרי‬
from the uncleanness of 15 the human being (‫ )מנדת אנוש‬and from the sin
of the sons of man (‫)חטאת בני אדם‬, so that I can give God thanks for his
justice and The Highest for his majesty.
Ritual-physical impurity and moral sinfulness are the two dimensions
that characterize human constitution.30 They cannot be overcome but
by God’s purifying acts. Human purity is the precondition for cultic

28 The examples of the first form are part of Essene prayer texts that are recited by the
very ‘pious’ ones who perceive the most fundamental divide to be not among humans
but between God and human beings. They thus tend to obliterate inner-human divisions.
The passages adduced for the second form stem from the teaching of the two spirits, 1QS
3:13–4:26. This text, again, is concerned with humans in general, without any sociological
identifications being discernible; cf. Holtz, Gott, 90–91.
29 For another example, see 1QH 9 [1]:21–24 (cf. above, 2.1). Impurity here is understood
as a fundamental anthropological element that characterizes human beings as contrasted
with the power and glory of God (ll. 21, 24).
30 Further cf. 1QS 11:21, where this aspect is circumscribed by being ‘born of woman’;
also see Job 14:1; 15:14; 25:4; Ps 51:7. 1QS 11 probably goes back to early Essene times; cf.
Lange, Lichtenberger, “Qumran”, 58.
526 gudrun holtz

participation (l. 15), since purification achieves the partial overcoming

of the absolute opposition between God and humans and thus allows
humans to approach God and sing his praise. To humans as such, this is
an impossibility, for the totally impure cannot praise the Holy one.31
The second form of what is called here ‘constitutional impurity’ is, as
mentioned, rooted in predestination, which in the pre-150 bce teaching of
the two spirits (1QS 3:13–4:26) is a form of dualism. In contrast to the texts
discussed so far, however, this text only deals with questions of moral
purity.
After characterizing the effects of the spirit of truth (4:2–8), the text
proceeds to specify the works of the spirit of deceit (ll. 9–11). These works
are moral in nature, among them greed, sluggishness in the service of jus-
tice and wickedness (l. 9) and here, most importantly:
Impudent enthusiasm for appalling acts performed in a lustful passion
(‫)וקנאת זדון מעשי תעובה ברוח זנות‬, filthy paths in the service of impurity
(‫( )ודרכי נדה בעבודת טמאה‬l. 10).
The thoroughly moral context advocates a moral understanding of these
expressions. Similarly to passages in the Hebrew Bible, the term ‫נדה‬,
which originally denotes physical impurity, is used in a metaphorical
sense here.32 The offenses mentioned in ll. 9–11 are for the most part not
especially grave sins but quite common behaviors that are part of human
constitution or, in the words of the Qumranites, part of the ‘structure of
man’33 in the period of the existence of the two spirits.
Characteristic of the teaching of the two spirits is a cosmic dualism
specified in anthropological and ethical terms.34 According to the text,
each human being, to a different degree, is under the power of both the
spirit of truth and the spirit of deceit (4:24–25). As was “decided in the
predestined order of creation”,35 God has allotted a portion of both spirits

31 Further cf. 1QH 9 [1]:31–33; 1QH 19 [11]:10–14; 4Q284 7 2 (?); 4Q512 29–32 9 (?).
32 Cf. Ezek 7:19–20; Lam 1:8, 17; Zech 13:1 (‫)לנדה‬, and Ezek 36:17 (‫)כטמאת הנדה‬. A met-
aphorical understanding of the second expression is further supported by the correspond-
ing term “magnificent purity which detests all unclean idols (‫וטהרת כבוד מתעב כול גלולי‬
‫( ”)נדה‬l. 5) of the preceding passage. To Klawans, Impurity, 76, the first expression quoted
from l. 10 serves as an example of the identification of moral and ritual purity.
33 Cf. 1QS 4:20; 1QH 9:22.
34 Cf. Frey, “Patterns”, 290–95.
35 Frey, “Patterns”, 293. For a further example, see 1QS 5:13–14; cf. below n. 40. Whether
what is called ‘predestination’ by Frey and others—e.g. Broshi, “Predestination”, 241, as well
as in the present article—should rather be called ‘determination’ is a matter of debate. By
way of contrast, Lange, Lichtenberger, “Qumran”, 69, e.g., talk about the “grundlegende
 purity conceptions in the dead sea scrolls 527

to each individual, who will thus perform a majority of works of light or

darkness and will receive the corresponding fruits eschatologically. In this
conception, the individual is not a moral subject who is free to choose his
or her actions, but rather acts out the spirits’ allotment of works.
Purification here is achieved not in this time but only at the end of
time, when God is to purify the structure of the human being,
20 . . . ripping out all spirit of injustice from the innermost part 21 of his flesh
(‫)בשרו‬, and cleansing him with the spirit of holiness from every wicked
deed. He will sprinkle over him the spirit of truth like lustral water (‫כמי‬
‫( )נדה‬in order to cleanse him) from all the abhorrences of deceit and (from)
the defilement 22 of the unclean spirit (‫)ברוח נדה‬.
God, in other words, eschatologically purifies humans by removing all pre-
requisites to do evil and by empowering them through the Holy Spirit to
walk in holiness. As humans in this time cannot but perform both good
and evil works, according to their portion of the two spirits, so eschato-
logically purified humans cannot but act according to the will of God.
Freedom of choice is not given, neither in this nor in the coming world.
Although human impurity in 1QS 3–4 is the consequence of ethical misbe-
havior, its ultimate reason, thus, is constitutional, not moral.
The constitutional dimension of impurity, however, is not a general fea-
ture of the writings of the yahad, not even in 1QS. This can be seen from a
passage from Qumran law that is found in different versions in 1QS 5 and
its earlier parallel, 4QS 258. The opening statement of 1QS 5–9 reads:
1 This is the rule of the men of the Community who freely volunteer to
convert (‫ )המתנדבים לשוב‬from all evil and to keep themselves steadfast
in all he commanded. . . . They should keep apart from the congregation of
2 the men of injustice.
The term ‘to freely volunteer’ presupposes freedom of choice.36 The argu-
ment, then, is not constitutional but moral. But there are further differen-
tiations to be made. 4Q258 i 5–8 says:

Determination allen Geschehens in der Schöpfung”. ‘Predestination’, according to their

definition, is there if the “Festlegung der Welt und des Menschen” is connected with the
“Heils- bzw. Unheilsperspektive”, which, however, in 1QS 3:13–4:26 is the case; see esp.
4:6–8:11; 14:26. Since the idea of predestination as described is part of the dualistic passage
1QS 3:13–4:26 too, in the present paper it is held that ‘constitutional impurity’ is rooted in
predestination as part of an overall dualism.
36 For this translation, cf. Conrad, “‫”נדב‬, 238; 245, and García Martínez, Tigchelaar,
Scrolls, 71; 79, etc.
528 gudrun holtz

5 . . . And whoever enters the council of 6 [the] Com[mun]ity shall . . . 7 . . .

[. . . be segregated from all the men of] injustice, [and] they are not to
approach the pure food of [the hol]y 8 men.
The text presupposes that the men of injustice would, if allowed to
approach the pure food of the holy men, morally pollute it. The moral
interpretation of the passage is suggested by its context: The men of injus-
tice have not converted from evil and joined the Community but con-
tinue to “walk in the stubbornness of (their) heart” (l. 4). Consequently,
they keep from exercising the works demanded, such as “humility, justice
and right, [compassionate] love [and se]emly behaviour” (l. 3).37 Since
the whole passage is morally centered, without aspects of ‘physical’ impu-
rity even being mentioned, the main thrust of the text is ‘moral’ impurity.
‘Physical’ impurity is included, if at all, in the general remark on convert-
ing to the Law of Moses as interpreted by the Community (ll. 6–7). The
constitutional dimension, however, is missing.38
A later variant, 1QS 5:13–14, which is supposed to go back to the group
behind 1QS 1–3,39 shares some of the aspects of 4Q258 but also contains
considerable differences:
13 . . . He (sc. probably one of the men of injustice) should not go into the
waters to share in the pure food of the men of holiness, for one is not
cleansed, 14 unless one turns away from one’s wickedness, for he is unclean
among all the transgressors of his word.
Both traditions know of the prohibition addressed to the men of injustice
against approaching the purity of the men of holiness. The implied reason
is moral impurity. 1QS 5:13–14, however, raises two more issues: (1) The
prohibition against going into the waters reflects the use of water by the
members of the yahad to ritually-physically cleanse themselves before eat-
ing. (2) The reasoning given for the prohibition is in line with 1QS 3:3–12
as part of the dualistic passage 1QS 1:16–3:12. The immediate reason for the
prohibition against approaching the pure food, thus, is the moral impurity
of the men of injustice; in the background, however, is the constitutional

37 For further, clearly moral aspects of the passage, cf. 4Q258 i 10–11: The expressions
“their works are uncleanliness (‫ ”)מעשיהם לנדה‬and “there is uncleanliness in al]l [their
possessions] (‫ ”)וטמא מכ[ל ]הונם‬imply moral impurity as well. Further cf. CD 6:15: “to
abstain from wicked wealth which defiles”.
38 For a similar text, see 1QS 8:16–19: As in 4Q258 i 5–8, it is ‘moral’ impurity that pre-
vents transgressing members of the yahad from approaching the pure food of the men of
holiness.
39 Cf. Murphy-O’Connor, “genèse”, 546–47; Knibb, Qumran, 110; and Metso, Texts, 10.
 purity conceptions in the dead sea scrolls 529

impurity of those who belong to the lot of Belial.40 It needs be underlined

that the latter dimension is only part of the reasoning given for the rule,
not part of the rule itself.

2.3. Chronological Aspects

A comparative evaluation of the texts discussed, both those produced
by the yahad after the re-founding of the Community by the Teacher of
Righteousness around 150 bce and earlier texts from the DSS, shows that
the later texts add the ritual-physical dimension of impurity to the moral
one. Much more strongly than in the earlier texts, then, humans are per-
ceived as corporeal-spiritual/moral entities in the Essene texts. To this a
second aspect needs to be added: The later traditions interpret both moral
and ritual-physical impurity in constitutional terms. In contrast to the
constitutional interpretation of physical impurity first found in the texts
from the early Essene period, this type of interpretation is already seen in
reference to moral impurity in earlier texts, namely in the proto-Essene
teaching of the two spirits found in post-biblical wisdom literature41 and
in a strand of the wisdom texts from the Hebrew Bible.42
Similarly, the motif of purification of humans by the Holy Spirit can
already be found in texts produced before the foundation of the yahad,
that is, in the teaching of the two spirits and in Ezekiel.43 In both these
texts, in contrast to 1QS 1–3, purification by the Holy Spirit is understood
as an eschatological event. Still, the present understanding of purification
in 1QS is not a fundamental innovation by the yahad but is already found
in Ps 51:12.
The traditio-historical changes that can be observed in the post-150
bce texts, namely the parallelization of ritual-physical and moral impu-
rity, with both categories being interpreted in ‘constitutional’ terms, are
best explained by supposing a linkage between wisdom tradition and
priestly tradition. This new synthesis seems to go back to the Teacher of
Righteousness who, being of priestly descent, around the year 150 joined

40 The argument presupposes that belonging to either the lot of God or the lot of Belial
(1QS 2:2, 5) cannot be influenced by humans. Along this line, those who ‘freely volunteer
to convert’ from wickedness to join the community (1:7, 11) act according to their—predes-
tined—membership in the lot of God.
41 Cf. Lange, Weisheit, 128–30.
42 See esp. Job 25; for further texts, cf. Job 4:17–19; 14:3; 15:14–16; Ps 51:4.
43 Cf. Ezek 36:25; 11:19. Ezek 18:31, on the other hand, expresses the notion that the
people of Israel are to get themselves a new heart and a new spirit. The combination of
both elements reminds us of 1QS 3:6–9.
530 gudrun holtz

up with the predecessor community of the yahad. His and his group’s
interest in ritual-physical purity is evident from 4QMMT. In the literature
of this new group, these priestly ideals seem to have merged with the
constitutional interpretation of purity issues already to be found in wis-
dom circles. Especially clear is the evidence of 1QS 3:3–12, a text that goes
back to the yahad. This passage shares several traits with the pre-yahad
wisdom text of the two spirits, 1QS 3:13–4:26, namely the Holy Spirit as
agent of purification, dualism, a ‘constitutional’ understanding of purity
and the preponderance of moral purity. An additional aspect, ritual-
physical purity, comes into view in 1QS 3:3–12. Against earlier evidence,
it is this linkage of moral and physical purity, both interpreted ‘constitu-
tionally’, that in the texts going back to the yahad could be observed time
and again.44
In its own way, however, this combination is already found in Leviticus.
The major examples in the Priestly Code are the two he-goats of Yom
Kippur45 and, in the context of the purificatory ritual for scale disease, the
sacrifices following the sprinklings and washings that also have a moral
connotation.46 In the Holiness Code, the combination of moral and ritual-
physical purity can be discerned with respect to murder, fornication and
idolatry.47 But quite apart from the fact that the passages in Leviticus do
not explicitly combine physical-ritual and moral aspects of impurity, they
do not include the constitutional element of impurity found in the wis-
dom traditions discussed either.
It must be noted, however, that the passages from Leviticus are legal
texts, whereas the large majority of the Essene texts discussed are, in
terms of literary form, hymnic-liturgical48 or hortatory texts.49 In the

44 Priestly influence, however, can be observed elsewhere as well. It is an accepted

scholarly thesis that 1QS 5–9 is a later version of 4QS 256 and 258 reworked by priestly
circles linked to the Teacher of Righteousness; cf. esp. 1QS 5:2 and 4Q 256 ix 2–3 par 4Q258
i 2–3; 1QS 5:9–10 and 4Q256 ix 7–8 par 4Q258 i 7, and see Lange, Lichtenberger, “Qumran”,
57. Also see above, pp. 527–28, with the observations made on the parallel versions of
4Q258 i 5–8 and 1QS 5:13–14.
45 The offering of the he-goat selected for sacrifice is meant to cleanse the sanctuary
from all kinds of pollution, both physical (‫ )מטמאת‬and moral (‫;)ומפשעיהם לכל־חטאתם‬
cf. Lev 16:16 and see Milgrom, Leviticus, 857.
46 Cf. Lev 14:4–9 (ritual-physical dimension) and 14:10–20 (moral dimension). The “bat-
tery of all four sacrifices—reparation, purification, burnt, and cereal offerings”, mentioned
in vv. 10–20 is to make sure that “all possible misdemeanors” of the scale-diseased person
“have been covered” (Milgrom, Leviticus, 858). In view here, obviously, is moral impurity.
47 See Himmelfarb, “Impurity”, 12.
48 Cf. 1QH 9 [1]:21–26 and 1QS 11:9–15; further cf. the texts mentioned by Klawans, Impu-
rity, 78 (1QM 13:5; 1QH 4 [17]:19; 19 [11]:11; 4Q512 29–32).
49 Cf. 1QS 2:25–3:12 and 4:2–14; 4:20–22.
 purity conceptions in the dead sea scrolls 531

strictly legal parts of 4QMMT, CD/4QD and 1QS/4QS, the constitutional

dimension is missing, just as it is in Leviticus.

3. Ritual-Physical and Moral Purity in the Mirror of the

Purification Rituals: Purity Conceptions and Social Structure
in the Essene Movement

So far the argument of this paper is to a large extent based on 1QS. 1QS,
however, only reflects the perspective of one group within the Essene
movement. To round off the argument, the purity liturgies of Cave 4,
which reflect a different branch of the movement, need to be included.
As Regev has shown, the purity rituals of 1QS mainly serve to attain
moral purity. Prominent among them are “judicial scenes and ceremo-
nies . . . such as the stages of observing the character of a novice and dif-
ferent legal procedures against transgressing members”, the ceremony of
the “annual entry into the covenant” and, most importantly, the “ablution
in ‘the holy spirit’”.50 In contrast, 1QS only briefly mentions two rituals for
the attainment of ritual-physical purity. One consists of the sprinklings
and washings in the context of the annual entry into the covenant (1QS
3:3–12), the other of the washing before meals (1QS 5:13).
This is not to say that the community behind 1QS did not practice any
other physical rituals. Genital discharges, for example, although not dis-
cussed in 1QS, can be assumed to have been an issue in this community
as well and, consequently, to have been addressed by the corresponding
rituals. The fact that physical purity, as opposed to moral purity, hardly
plays a role in 1QS probably hangs together with the structure of the com-
munity behind 1QS. It seems to have been a community of men who per-
ceived themselves as a substitute for the Jerusalem temple. This explains
the high purity standards of the group as well as its separation from all
impurity, especially that of the men of injustice. The observance of the
rules of physical purity by the members of the group can be presupposed.
The importance given to moral purity in 1QS, however, indicates that
the social life of the group and the integration of new members were not
free from problems. This situation, then, is addressed by the rituals of
moral purity.
A different picture emerges from the purity liturgies of Cave 4, 4Q284,
414 and 512, which, albeit in different ways, deal with both the rituals

50 Regev, “Temple”, 272–73.

532 gudrun holtz

themselves and with the social structure of the group behind them. The
purificatory rituals described ideally consist of three elements, two physi-
cal rituals—immersion and sprinkling—and different prayers that inter-
pret the water rituals.51 The rituals are meant to cleanse a person from
ritual-physical impurity, especially that caused by contact with death or
by genital discharges. According to proto-Essene and Essene understand-
ing, impurity caused by genital discharges, on analogy to the procedure
prescribed in the Torah in case of impurity caused by death, demands a
purificatory period of seven days with purifications on the first, the third,
and the seventh days.52
According to 4Q Purification Liturgy, the following blessing is to be said
after the sprinkling at the end of the seven-day purification period, after
sunset (4Q284 3):
3 . . . Blessed are yo[u, God of Israel (‫ )אל ישראל‬4 [. . .] you engraved true
purity (‫ )טהרת אמת‬for your people (‫ )לעמכה‬to [. . .] 5 [. . . to be] purified
‫ )לה[טהר‬with them from all their uncle[an]liness (‫)מכול טמ]את[ם‬.53
‘God of Israel’ is not among the characteristic names used to address God
in the Essene parts of the DSS.54 The term defines God in relation to the
people of Israel as a whole. This pan-Israelite interest is also seen in
the expression ‘your people’. In using the term ‘true purity’, however, the
blessing at the same time points at demarcating the purity standards of
the group behind 4Q284 from those of other groups, namely those of the
Pharisees.55
The blessing 4Q Ritual of Purification A (414) 2 ii 3, 4 starts out similarly,
by praising the God of Israel for commanding the ‘purity of all’ (‫טהרת‬
‫)כול‬. In what follows, however, the moral and the exclusivist aspects are
stressed. According to the text as reconstructed by Eshel, the command-
ment aims at the separation “from all] 8 impure people (‫)מכול[ אנשי נדה‬
according to their guilt (‫)כא]שמתם‬, they could not be purified (‫ )יטהרו‬in
water of purification (‫”)מי רחץ‬.56

51 Cf. Eshel, Ritual, 136 with n. 7.

52 Comp. 11QT 49:17–21; 4Q274 1 i 4.7.9; 4Q274 2 i 1–2; 4Q284 2 i 3; 4Q284 2 ii 4; 4Q284
3 2; 4Q414 2 ii 3, 4 2; 4Q512 1–3 1; 4Q512 10–11 5; 4Q514 3.
53 Translation according to Baumgarten, Purification Liturgy, 127.
54 Cf. Lange, Lichtenberger, “Qumran”, 57.
55 The anti-Pharisaic dimension of the blessing follows from the timing of the prayer at
sunset; cf., e.g., Schiffman, “Halakhah”.
56 Texts from 4Q414 are given according to the reconstruction and translation of Eshel,
Ritual; here pp. 141–42.
 purity conceptions in the dead sea scrolls 533

In contrast to 4Q284 3, impurity in this text is both physical and moral.

It is ascribed to the opponents and seen to be caused by their sinful
refusal to submit to the purity law of the Community. Outsiders cannot
be purified. Still, the polemic against outsiders is linked to a pan-Israelite
perspective.57 Just as in 4Q284, this text combines the perspective of the
group with that of all Israel. Unlike 1QS, which advocates strict separation
from outsiders, 4Q284 and 414 reflect openness towards Israel as a whole,
comparable to CD.58
In explicitly referring to the sin of the praying ‘I’, the blessing 4Q512
29–32 stresses the moral dimension of the purificatory process. The
text says:
May you be blessed, [God of Israel, who] 9 [forgave me al]l my sins and
purified me from the shame of impurity (‫)ערות נדה‬/and atoned (‫)תכפר‬/so
that (I) can enter (‫)לבוא‬.59
In interpreting both physical and moral purity with regard to human con-
stitution, the blessing, as can be seen from 1QH 9, 1QS 3:3–12 and 1QS
11 especially, reflects Essene anthropological thinking. The moral side is
expressed in the motif of forgiveness of sin, the physical dimension in the
term ‘shame of impurity’.60 As in other Essene texts, the comprehensive
purification of the individual appears to be the presupposition of cultic
access to the presence of God and/or the angels.61
The pan-Israelite perspective of the Cave 4 purification liturgies seems
to correspond to the social structure of the group behind them. 4Q414 7
8–9—and similarly 4Q512 9 3—reads: “. . . in Israel’s purity to e[at and
drink in the cities of] 9 [their dw]ellings [and to be a holy people”. The
text of 4Q414 is followed by a reference to a “female and the menstruating
woma[n” (l. 11), whereas 4Q512 9 3 is preceded by mention of a man puri-
fied from discharge (l. 1) and followed by a reference to “his wife” (l. 4).

57 Cf. the inclusive terms ‘God of Israel’ (l. 6) and ‘purity of all’ (l. 7). The latter term is a
strong indication that the author has Jews rather than non-Jews in mind, since the purity
laws in biblical and early Jewish thinking apply to Jews only; cf. 4Q266 11 9–14.
58 For details, see Holtz, Gott, 318–25.
59 Translation according to García Martínez, Tigchelaar, Scrolls, 1039, with the excep-
tion of the rendering of ‫ערות נדה‬.
60 As in 1QH 9:21–24, ‫ ערוה‬and ‫ נדה‬here represent the physical dimension of
humans (see above, p. 523); also see Harrington, “Nature”, 614. According to Himmelfarb,
“Impurity”, 36, ‫ נדה‬implies the aspect of ‘condemnation’ as well, which points to a moral
dimension.
61 See above, n. 31.
534 gudrun holtz

The community that emerges in these texts is part of the Jewish people
both geographically and religiously, though a separate part.62 Similarly
to CD, the group visible in the purificatory liturgies comprises men and
women and most probably lives in families in the cities of Israel. Its main
purificatory rituals are physical in nature. Whether the group observed
distinctly moral rituals we do not know. As can be seen from some of the
prayers accompanying the physical rituals of immersion and sprinkling,
however, in articulating their sinfulness those reciting the blessings add
the moral dimension of purity to the physical one.63 This specific balance
between physical and moral impurity may thus be assumed to reflect the
lifestyle and social structure of this part of the Essene movement.
1QS and the purification liturgies of Cave 4 represent two different
forms of purity practice in the realm of the Essene movement. To both
groups purity has a ritual-physical and a moral dimension, but the impor-
tance of these aspects in each case differs. In 1QS the moral dimension
dominates, in the liturgies the ritual-physical one. The differences in the
ritual practice of both groups seem to reflect their specific social structure
and place within the whole of the Jewish people.

To summarize: (1) The relationship between ritual-physical and moral

purity in the non-legal texts of the community is best described in terms
of both aspects existing side by side; though intimately linked, they still
remain distinguishable. (2) What in these texts is often described as ‘moral
purity’ is rather to be understood as ‘constitutional purity’, since ‘moral’
acting here is the result of the innate constitution of human beings, not
of the free will of the moral subject. This dimension of purity is first to be
found in wisdom texts from the Hebrew Bible. (3) The diachronic model
developed by Klawans to illuminate the relationship between ritual-
physical and moral purity is based on chronological classifications of the
relevant texts from the DSS that meanwhile have been strongly refined.
Whether diachronic models based on such refined chronological classifi-
cations can be made, further research will have to show. What seems to
be clear, however, is that non-chronological explanations, among them,

62 For a further pan-Israelite tradition, see 4Q284 1 3–6 and Baumgarten, Tohorot,
94–95, and idem, Liturgy, 125.
63 Apart from 4Q512 29–32 9, see 4Q512 28 4 and 4Q512 34 3 (according to the counting
of García Martínez, Tigchelaar, Scrolls, 1036–41).
 purity conceptions in the dead sea scrolls 535

not least, literary form and social structure,64 can contribute to the under-
standing of the different perspectives in the DSS on the relation between
ritual-physical, moral and, as may now be added, constitutional purity.

Bibliography

Baillet, Maurice. “Rituel de Purification (4Q512)”. Pages 262–86 in Qumran Grotte 4.

III (4Q482–4Q520): Discoveries in the Judean Desert VII. Edited by M. Baillet. Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1982.
Baumgarten, Joseph. “Purification Liturgy (4Q284)”. Pages 123–30 in Qumran Cave 4.
XXV Halakhic Texts: Discoveries in the Judean Desert XXXV. Edited by J. Baumgarten,
T. Elgvin, E. Eshel, E. Larson, M. R. Lehmann, S. Pfann and L. H. Schiffman. Oxford:
Clarendon Press, 1999.
——. “Tohorot (4Q274–278)”. Pages 79–122 in Qumran Cave 4. XXV Halakhic Texts:
Discoveries in the Judean Desert XXXV. Edited by J. Baumgarten, T. Elgvin, E. Eshel,
E. Larson, M. R. Lehmann, S. Pfann and L. H. Schiffman. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1999.
——, ed. Qumran Cave 4. XIII The Damascus Document (4Q266–273): Discoveries in the
Judean Desert XVIII. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1996.
——. “The Purification Rituals in DJD 7”. Pages 199–209 in The Dead Sea Scrolls: Forty Years
of Research. Studies on the Texts of the Desert of Judah 10. Edited by D. Dimant and
U. Rappaport. Leiden: Brill, 1992.
Broshi, Magen. “Predestination in the Bible and the Dead Sea Scrolls”. Pages 238–51 in
Bread, Wine, Walls and Scrolls. Journal for the Study of the Pseudepigrapha: Supplement
Series 36. Edited by M. Broshi. London: Sheffield Academic Press, 2001.
Conrad, J. “‫ נדב‬ndb”. Pages 237–45 in vol. 5 of Theologisches Wörterbuch zum Alten
Testament. Edited by G. J. Botterweck. 10 vols. Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1986.
Eshel, Esther. “Ritual of Purification (4Q414)”. Pages 135–54 in in Qumran Cave 4. XXV
Halakhic Texts: Discoveries in the Judean Desert XXXV. Edited by J. Baumgarten, T. Elgvin,
E. Eshel, E. Larson, M. R. Lehmann, S. Pfann and L. H. Schiffman. Oxford: Clarendon
Press, 1999.
Frey, Jörg. “Different Patterns of Dualistic Thought in the Qumran Library: Reflections on
Their Background and History”. Pages 275–335 in Legal Texts and Legal Issues. Proceedings
of the Second Meeting of the International Organization for Qumran Studies. Published in
Honour of Joseph M. Baumgarten. Studies on the Texts of the Deserts of Judah 23. Edited
by M. Bernstein, F. García Martínez and J. I. Kampen. Leiden: Brill, 1997.
García Martínez, Florentino, and Eibert J.C. Tigchelaar, eds. The Dead Sea Scrolls: Study
Edition. 2 vols. Leiden: Brill, 2000.
Harrington, Hannah K. The Purity Texts. Companion to the Qumran Scrolls 5. London: T&T
Clark International, 2004.
——. “The Nature of Impurity at Qumran”. Pages 610–16 in The Dead Sea Scrolls: Fifty Years
after Their Discovery: Proceedings of the Jerusalem Congress, July 20–25, 1997. Edited by

64 Further explanatory models have to be taken into account as well. As regards the
differences to be observed in the purity halakhah of the DSS, Werrett, Purity, 301, sug-
gests that they might better be explained by exegetical reasons than by differences in
chronology. Furthermore, he considers them to reflect “legitimate disagreements” between
different groups. This suggestion comes close to the proposal forwarded in the present
paper. Differently from Werrett, however, the textual basis here, in re-examining the texts
interpreted by Klawans, is mostly in the field of non-legal texts.
536 gudrun holtz

L. H. Schiffman, E. Tov, J. VanderKam and G. Marquis. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration

Society, 2000.
Himmelfarb, Martha. “Impurity and Sin in 4QD, 1QS, and 4Q512”. Dead Sea Discoveries 8
(2001): 9–37.
Holtz, Gudrun. Damit Gott sei alles in allem: Studien zum paulinischen und frühjüdischen
Universalismus. Beihefte zur Zeitschrift für die neutestamentliche Wissenschaft und die
Kunde der älteren Kirche 149. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2007.
Klawans, Jonathan. Impurity and Sin in Ancient Judaism. Oxford: University Press, 2000.
Knibb, Michael A. The Qumran Community. Cambridge Commentaries on Writings of the
Jewish and Christian World 2. Cambridge: University Press, 1987.
Kratz, Reinhard G. “Gottes Geheimnisse: Vorherbestimmung und Heimsuchung in den
Schriften vom Toten Meer”. Pages 125–46 in Vorsehung, Schicksal und Göttliche Macht:
Antike Stimmen zu einem aktuellen Thema. Edited by R. G. Kratz and H. Spiekermann.
Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2008.
Lange, Armin. Weisheit und Prädestination: Weisheitliche Urordnung und Prädestination in
den Textfunden von Qumran. Studies on the Texts of the Desert of Judah 18. Leiden:
Brill, 1995.
——, and Hermann Lichtenberger. “Qumran”. Pages 45–79 in vol. 28 of Theologische
Realenzyklopädie. Edited by C. J. Thornton. 36 vols. Berlin, New York: de Gruyter, 1997.
Levine, Baruch A. Leviticus: The Traditional Hebrew Text with the New JPS Translation. The
JPS Torah Commentary. Philadelphia: The Jewish Publication Society, 1989.
Metso, Sarianna. The Serekh Texts. Companion to the Qumran Scrolls 9. London: T&T
Clark International, 2007.
Milgrom, Jacob. Leviticus 1–16: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary.
Anchor Yale Bible Commentaries 3a. New York: Doubleday, 1991.
Murphy-O’Connor, Jerome. “La genèse littéraire de la Règle de la Communauté”. Revue
Biblique 76 (1969): 528–49.
Newton, Michael. The Concept of Purity at Qumran and in the Letters of Paul. Society for
New Testament Studies: Monograph Series 53. Cambridge: University Press, 1985.
Regev, Eyal. “Abominated Temple and a Holy Community: The Formation of the Notion of
Purity and Impurity in Qumran”. Dead Sea Discoveries 10,2 (2003): 243–78.
Schiffman, Lawrence H. “Pharisaic and Sadducean Halakhah in the Light of the Dead Sea
Scrolls: The Case of Tevul Yom”. Dead Sea Discoveries 1 (1994): 285–99.
Werrett, Ian C. Ritual Purity and the Dead Sea Scrolls. Studies on the Texts of the Desert of
Judah 72. Leiden: Brill, 2007.
 PURE STONE: ARCHAEOLOGICAL EVIDENCE FOR
JEWISH PURITY PRACTICES IN LATE SECOND TEMPLE JUDAISM
(MIQWA’OT AND STONE VESSELS)

Jürgen K. Zangenberg

1. The Problem

Material devices of identity formation and group delineation are some of

the most controversial topics in the current debate about the character
of the material culture of ancient Palestinian Judaism. Among the most
prominent examples are those elements that seem directly indicative of
specifically ‘Jewish’ religious practices and beliefs, such as stepped pools
(miqwa’ot) or stone vessels. The fact that these objects only seem to occur
at sites that are otherwise known to have been inhabited by ‘Jews’, and
the fact that their very specific function invites connections with (nearly)
contemporaneous religious literature, makes them examples par excel-
lence for speculation about their roles in delineating and defending Jewish
identity in practice.1
As is so often the case, the debate rages less over cataloguing and
describing the objects themselves (they are well-known, although of
course even the largest number of items and types is never big enough)
than over interpreting them: exploring and determining how to put them
into a functional (how were they used, by whom and for what purpose?)
and ideological (what did people express about their identity and their
worldview when they used these objects?) context.
In this respect, recent authors have rightly warned against falling into
two traps:

a) What sort of Judaism are we talking about? Of what sort of Judaism are
these objects indicative? While some authors see ‘common Judaism’
at work without referring to group-specific habits, others stress
that miqwa’ot and stone vessels originally were products of halakhic

1 Meyers, “Aspects of Everyday Life”; Meyers, “Jewish Culture”; Berlin, “Jewish Life”
on the connection between Jewish presence and stone vessels/miqwa’ot. On the textual
aspects, see the contributions by B. Ego, G. Holtz and I. Werrett within this volume.
538 jürgen k. zangenberg

decisions of a single group that came to be representative of a theo-

logical and practical position most Jews would have accepted. A
prominent advocate of the former model is E. P. Sanders,2 and of the
latter, Martin Hengel and Roland Deines, who are convinced that the
Pharisees, with their ‘pietistic’ program of applying ideals of priestly
purity to common people, were the single most influential group in
Second Temple Palestinian Judaism.3 According to this view, stepped
pools (often taken to have a religious function and consequently used
synonymously with miqwa’ot) and stone vessels can consequently be
taken as evidence that the vast majority of Jews would have sympa-
thized with the Pharisees and followed a more-or-less Pharisaic prac-
tice in their daily dealings. Other elements of material culture (e.g.,
ossuaries or particular forms of burial) have been taken by other schol-
ars as indicative of other groups mentioned in Second Temple litera-
ture, attempts of which I myself am rather skeptical.4
b) What objects are we talking about? Were all stepped pools used for
ritual purposes? Are all products of the Second Temple stone industry,
or even all stone vessels for that matter, signs of a widespread interest
in purity ideals? Or must one differentiate between objects of seem-
ingly similar form (pools with steps) or the same technological back-
ground (craters, bowls, cups, table tops, ossuaries, etc., from the same
industry) on the one hand and their respective purposes on the other?
Might the large number of different objects not rather speak in favor
of a multiplicity of purposes as well?

I therefore want to begin my considerations with a quotation from an

archaeological study that should warn us against drawing premature
conclusions based on textual and archaeological data, and vice versa:
“Interpretation is insidiously ubiquitous. There are always choices and
judgments being made even in the most mundane and apparently empiri-
cal activities”.5 Material remains are no less in need of interpretation than
texts; neither of them is self-evident or plainly ‘objective’.

2 Sanders, Judaism; cf. Meyers, “Common Judaism”; Zangenberg, “Common Judaism”

on alleged ‘group-specific’ elements of material culture. See the important modification of
Sanders’ concept by Miller, “Complex Common Judaism”.
3 Hengel and Deines, “Review Article”; Deines, Steingefäße; Deines, “Pharisees”.
4 See Zangenberg, “Common Judaism”.
5 Shanks and Hodder, “Interpretive Archaeologies”, 8.
 pure stone 539

Rather than using stone vessels and stepped pools as illustration for
certain passages from the literature, like John 2:1–12, m. Kelim or m. Miqw.,
or immediately taking refuge in texts when interpreting these objects
(thereby constructing connections a priori that may or may not be there
in the first place), I want to pursue a different path and demonstrate how
diverse the material evidence is, how unclear these objects’ functions were
and how cautious statements about purpose and ideological context nec-
essarily have to remain.

2. Purity

Next to monotheism, circumcision and Sabbath observance, purity regu-

lations were the most obvious characteristics of ancient Judaism in the
Mediterranean world. The Hebrew Bible, especially the Pentateuch and
within it the Priestly Code, are full of regulations of Jewish life and prac-
tice (dietary laws, skin diseases, prohibition of certain animals, etc.); later
generations added to them, changed them and specified what was in
need of careful attention, creating a dense net of ‘halakhah’. Given the
vagueness and complexity of many biblical commandments and the rapid
transformation of Palestinian Jewish society in the Hellenistic age, it is
no surprise that debates about halakhah did not necessarily and always
produce consensual positions on the basis of what Stuart Miller calls
“complex common Judaism”.6 One disputed issue was how to restore
and preserve purity. While the vast majority of Palestinian Jews very
likely considered keeping and restoring purity an important element of
their religious identity, debates about details in purity halakhah were
equally essential in the formation of groups and tendencies in Palestinian
Judaism7 until the Jewish War and the destruction of the temple shook
the very foundations of Palestinian Jewish society and initiated a trans-
formation of halakhah, too.

6 Miller, “Complex Common Judaism”, modifying Sanders, Judaism; on the material

aspects, see also Meyers, “Common Judaism”; Zangenberg, “Common Judaism”.
7 For a first, brief orientation, see, e.g., the comparative chart on biblical, Qumranic
and rabbinic purity regulations in Harrington, Purity Texts, 134–38; Sanders, Judaism; Wise,
Miqwa’ot and Second Temple Sectarianism; Miller, “Complex Common Judaism”; Miller,
“Monolithic Miqwe”, on the relation between ‘common Jewish’ and ‘sectarian’ positions.
Although much more difficult to restore, opinions about Samaritan purity halakhah could
also be added.
540 jürgen k. zangenberg

(D)ivine holiness is perfection and power. When it is mediated into the

human sphere it easily encounters imperfection and impurity and is repulsed
or brings dire results. Thus, as its literal meaning implies, holiness must be
protected by separation and prohibition.8
Purity is the only quality that favorably relates to God, the source of all
holiness (Lev 11–16 esp., e.g., 11:44a; 20:26; 1 Sam 2:2; Isa 6:3); consequently,
God’s holiness does not tolerate impurity. Maintaining purity was essen-
tial for securing access to the temple, and because whoever was impure
was banned from coming into contact with the holy and therefore was a
source of contamination to others, purity was also essential for maintain-
ing social relations. Since priests, by birth and office, have constant access
to the temple, it was first and foremost this group that had to maintain
purity most strictly and who had themselves to be protected from impu-
rity conveyed by others.
According to halakhah, immediate sources of impurity were ubiquitous:
corpses—the most prominent source of contamination (Num 19); ceme-
teries; impure animals; impure food (Lev 11; Deut 14:3–21); idols, their wor-
shippers and what is connected to them; discharge of human fluids like
semen (Lev 15:1–18, 25–30) or blood from childbirth (Lev 12:1–8), wounds
or menstruation (Lev 15:19–33); and skin diseases (Lev 13–14) were all per-
ceived as different means of status transition. “People affected by these
major changes of status, which have to do with life, death and reproduc-
tion, were to stay away from what was holy”.9 Since impurity is contagious
and mobile, it spreads from one object to another (vessels, furniture, etc.)
and from one material to the other (e.g., food) by mere touch or vicinity
(e.g., entering the shadow of an impure object)—only to be restrained
by objects made of material that is explicitly said to be unsusceptible to
impurity.
Impurity, however, has no moral connotations per se and should con-
sequently be carefully distinguished from ‘sin’:
Most impurities were not forbidden and (. . .) a majority of purity laws
affected only entrance to the temple and handling or eating ‘holy things’. It
was not wrong to contact semen, bury the dead, have a child or menstruate.

8 Harrington, Holiness, 147; see in general esp. 11–44; on Leviticus in general, see, e.g.,
Milgrom, Leviticus.
9 See Sanders, Judaism, here 217. The literature on purity is vast and cannot be dis-
cussed here in any extensive way. See, e.g., Harrington, Purity Texts; Poorthuis, Purity and
Holiness. On impurity of corpses see recently Hieke, “Unreinheit”.
 pure stone 541

These caused impurity, which one must not convey to the sanctuary, but in
and of themselves they were right, good and proper.10
Many people in Second Temple Palestine considered purity a desirable
state irrespective of whether a person was to enter the temple or not,11
and thus even people not planning to enter the temple would actively
try to preserve purity and remove impurity. On the basis of Josephus,
Antiquitates 3.262, Sanders even speaks of a “tendency to make purity a
positive commandment, with the consequence that remaining impure
was regarded as a transgression”.12
Depending on its kind and origin, impurity can be removed in different
ways, ranging from simple passage of time (sunset) to ritual bathing and
presenting of sacrifices. Many consider stepped pools and stone vessels
the most important material means of assistance in keeping and restoring
purity. We will now turn to them.

3. Stepped Pools (miqwa’ot)

Water was essential for removing many kinds of impurity by immersing

the body or the impure object. Securing sufficient and suitable water,
however, is difficult in a region where few people had access to water
from springs or rivers. Instead, pools, into which water could be chan-
neled and kept available for immersion, were dug into the ground.13
Ever since Yigael Yadin discovered the first examples of such pools dur-
ing his excavations on Masada in 1963–1965, and Rabbi David Muntzberg
and Rabbi Eliezer Alter confirmed that these fulfilled the requirements
of halakhah and could consequently be called proper miqwa’ot, these
installations have played a major role in the discussion of Jewish religious
practice in Second Temple Palestine. In the wake of Rabbis Muntzberg
and Alter’s judgment, the question of what allows us to call a stepped
pool a miqwe has not ceased. According to the latest studies by Jonathan
Lawrence and Stefanie Hoss, more than 600 examples of miqwa’ot are
known today from Hellenistic to Byzantine Palestine, more than twice
as many as Ronny Reich had available for his still-unpublished Hebrew

10 Sanders, Judaism, 214. See also Harrington, Holiness, 173–80.

11 Sanders, Judaism, 218.
12 Sanders, Judaism, 219.
13 On washing in general, see, e.g., Lawrence, Washing, esp. 23–154.
542 jürgen k. zangenberg

University dissertation from 1990.14 Katharina Galor has made important

clarifications about the etymology and function of miqwa’ot from Qumran
and Sepphoris.15

Muntzberg’s confirmation that the pools on Masada are halakhically suit-

able suggested a uniformity that has served more to obstruct a differen-
tiated view than to help it—as if conformity with Mishnaic regulations
were the only criterion to call a stepped pool a miqwe. Standardization,
however, is a late phenomenon intended by the Mishnah but not fully
achieved even in the post-Mishnaic period. While regulations about impu-
rity are quite elaborate in the OT, they are often sparse when it comes
to methods of purification (Lev 11:36). Especially limited is the level of
practical information that these early OT texts contain, e.g., about where
and how to immerse and how exactly a purification basin should look.
Consequently, there was both a great need and enough room for experts
to interpret these passages, fill in gaps, answer practical questions and
so make the fundamental OT regulations workable. We can assume that
intensive discussions took place in the period “between the Hebrew Bible
and the Mishnah” about when, by whom and where certain purification
rituals should be held, but little of that debate left any traces in contempo-
raneous literature. The ‘invention’ and early development of using stepped
pools for ritual purposes, therefore, went largely uncommented upon and
remained more or less an anonymous process. The oldest sources about
purification in pools are archaeological, representing a piece of ‘halakhah
in stone’.
The result of these debates and developments was a wide variety of
stepped pools, often not much different from normal cisterns (which also
began to be plastered at that time) but clearly on the way towards a new
and distinct architectural style. Most of these pools shared common fea-
tures: “cut into bedrock, deep enough for complete immersion, steps lead-
ing to the bottom, filled by means of channels that carried rain or spring
water”16 (Figs. 1–4). But individual installations could vary dramatically.

14 Berlin, “Jewish Life”, 453, mentions the number 300. On the evidence, see Lawrence,
“Washing”; Wright III, “Jewish Ritual Baths”; Hoss, Baths and Bathing, 4–5; 104–19, and her
“Selective Catalogue of Miqwa’ot in Roman and Byzantine Palestine”, 179–96.
15 Galor, “Plastered Pools”, 291–92 and 316–17; Galor, “Sepphoris Acropolis”, 201–3.
16 Sanders, Judaism, 223; Hoss, Bath and Bathing, 114–15, on “components of the
miqva’ot”.
 pure stone 543

Seeing the variety of forms that could exist side by side, it is difficult to
claim that this development was systematic.
Not before the Mishnah do we find detailed discussions about the
form, capacity and use of stepped pools suitable for ritual. It is likely that
some of these regulations date back to the period before 70 ce, but the
clear tendency to name criteria for ‘pure’ (i.e., suitable) and ‘impure’ (i.e.,
unsuitable) stepped pools reflects the rabbinic desire to collect, system-
atize and standardize older tradition rather than actual pre-70 practice.
In fact, it is interesting to see that standardization ‘on the ground’ lagged
somewhat behind the uniform picture presented by 2nd c. and post-2nd
c. rabbinic texts.
But the method of purifying in stepped, plastered pools is not only a
product of learned textual exegesis and halakhic debate. It is just as much
a result of technologies that only became available during the Hasmonean
period (plastering).17

The oldest miqwa’ot date from the time of Alexander Jannaeus, i.e. the
early to mid-1st c. bce (Fig. 5–7), and are therefore roughly contempora-
neous with the first clearly dated Palestinian synagogues and about two
generations earlier than stone vessels.
Large accumulations of stepped pools, some of which certainly served
as miqwa’ot for ritual purification, are known from, e.g., Masada, Jericho,
Qumran, Jerusalem and Sepphoris.18 No stepped pools for ritual washings
are known from outside Palestine, the examples from Transjordan quoted
by Lawrence requiring reexamination.19 Apparently, diaspora Jews used
other means such as large fountains to purify or wash hands before enter-
ing a synagogue (cf. Sardeis, Ostia).

Most miqwa’ot were half built-up with stones and mortar and half sunk
into the ground, were connected to an inlet and outlet for water and were
carefully plastered. Form, size and capacity, however, vary considerably.20
Not all pools were connected to a water pipe; some were supplied by
drawn water from a nearby cistern, others through rain water from the

17 Porath, “Hydraulic Plaster”; Galor, “Sepphoris Acropolis”, 202–3.

18 Galor, “Sepphoris Acropolis” (Sepphoris); Grossberg, “Ritual Baths” (Masada); Galor,
“Plastered Pools” (Qumran); there are no equally systematic studies on stepped pools in
Jericho and Jerusalem, but cf. the summary discussion in Hoss, Baths and Bathing, 179–96;
on the Bethesda pool and Jewish purification practices, see Gibson, “Pool of Bethesda”.
19 Lawrence, Washing, 168–72.
20 Hoss, Bath and Bathing, 114–15, on “components of the miqva’ot”.
544 jürgen k. zangenberg

roofs (Sepphoris). Some pools had a small settling pool attached to them,
some had a low plastered wall dividing the steps; the number of steps was
far from standardized and pools with steps could be used for non-ritual
purposes, such as a collecting basin or part of an industrial installation, as
well. It is therefore likely, though not proven, that some pools may have
been used for ritual and secular purposes.21
The architectural context of these pools equally varies.22 While some
pools were integrated into normal domestic buildings (Sepphoris) and
sometimes were even part of a sophisticated bathroom with a normal
pool for hygiene nearby (Upper City in Jerusalem), others lacked such
luxuries. Pools were found near private homes (Fig. 8–10), synagogues
(Fig. 11), potters’ kilns (Fig. 12–13), industrial (Fig. 14)23 or agricultural (Fig.
15–18)24 installations, tombs (Fig. 19–20),25 or were built as public pools.26
Judging only by sheer size and architectural context, some pools were
clearly intended to serve large groups of people, others only a family.
It is especially interesting that miqwa’ot occurred not only in
Jerusalemite Jewish contexts but also among a second Palestinian group
closely related but in fierce competition with Second Temple Judaism: the
Samaritans. If Yitzhak Magen is correct that the bathtubs in the Hellenistic
city on Mount Gerizim (destroyed by Johannes Hyrcanus in 110 bce) were
(also) used for ritual purification, we have evidence for parallel develop-
ments that predate the oldest Samaritan halakhic texts by many centuries.
These bathtubs are found in many luxurious homes of the Gerizim elite
(possibly priests; Fig. 21–23) and strikingly resemble examples found at
Delos and other Mediterranean sites from the Hellenistic period.27 I am
therefore very skeptical that the tubs only served purificatory purposes.
Clearer is the situation at Qedumim, where miqwa’ot were already being
built next to wine presses in the 1st c. ce (Fig. 15–18).28 These data suggest

21 Rightly emphasized by Galor, “Plastered Pools”; Galor, “Sepphoris Acropolis”. Exem-

plary is the heated debate about the character of the stepped pool from Sepphoris; see
Eshel, “Note on ‘Miqvaot’”; Eshel, “Pools of Sepphoris”; Meyers, “Pools of Sepphoris”; Reich,
“Great Miqve Debate”.
22 See Lawrence, Washing, 179–83; Berlin, “Jewish Life”, 453.
23 See, e.g., the dense, often hardly discernible mixture of industrial and ritual pools in
the industrial area F north of Herod’s Third Palace; Netzer, Palaces at Jericho II, 39–144.
24 See, e.g., Adler, “Agricultural”.
25 See, e.g., Adler, “Adjacent to Tombs”.
26 See, e.g., the discussion on the large public pools near the Temple Mount in Regev,
“Temple Mount” and Adler, “Temple Mount”.
27 On pools from Gerizim, see, e.g., Magen, Mount Gerizim II, 24; 33; 38.
28 Magen, “Immersion”.
 pure stone 545

a parallel development in ‘practical halakhah’ between Palestinian Jews

and Samaritans. Sanders is right, therefore, when he writes:
The use of immersion pools was common to one and all: aristocrats, priests,
the laity, the rich, the poor, the Qumran sectarians, the Pharisees and the
Sadduceans.29
Unlike stone vessels, to which we turn now, miqwa’ot continue to be in
use down to this very day.

4. ‘Stone Vessels’

Stone vessels were hardly noticed before the 1960s, when intensive
excavations in Jerusalem by Kathleen Kenyon (Ophel), Magen Broshi
(Citadel), Nahman Avigad (Jewish Quarter), Yigal Shiloh (City of David)
and Benjamin Mazar (Temple Mount) began to turn up large quantities
in different types and forms. Delay in publication of these excavations
hampered research for quite some time, but since the 1990s sufficient
material from current excavations and a couple of systematic studies have
become available: Jane Cahill made the first large corpus of material avail-
able for research (City of David) and proposed a first detailed typology.30
Shimon Gibson and Yitzhak Magen added to it substantially by refining
typology and publishing production sites.31 In the meantime, more cor-
pora have been published (e.g., Masada, Jewish Quarter in Jerusalem)32
and other important ones are in preparation (Qumran, Sepphoris). Since
2002, Yitzhak Magen’s systematic study of the production techniques,
types, find places and ideological background presents the evidence

29 Sanders, Judaism, 223; Moreover, Galor, “Sepphoris Acropolis”, 211, assumes that “it
is not unlikely that most people continued to immerse themselves in natural, rather than
artificial installations”. This could be the reason why no miqwa’ot have been found so far
in Capernaum. Berlin, “Jewish Life”, 452, follows a different path compared to Sanders: “I
would not identify Second Temple period observance from later legal protocols, and I hold
that differing find spots of mikva’ot may signify varying behaviours and concerns”. This,
however, is not necessarily a contradiction: while not all stepped pools should be taken
as ritual baths (Berlin), it cannot be taken for granted that the known ritual use of some
pools is a result of Pharisaic piety (Sanders).
30 Cahill, “Chalk Vessel Assemblages”, but cf. Magen, Stone Vessel Industry 1988 (if not
otherwise stated I quote from the larger, 2002 English edition; see also Deines, Steingefäße,
49–60, as an example for early classification.
31 Gibson, “Stone Vessels”; Magen, “Jerusalem as a Centre”; Magen, Stone Vessel
Industry.
32 So far, only the ‘stone mugs’ from Masada are published; see Reich, “Masada”,
195–206; Reich, “Stone Vessels”; Geva, “Stone Artifacts”.
546 jürgen k. zangenberg

conveniently.33 Fortunately, these joint scholarly efforts have pushed

stone vessels from an often-overlooked piece of material culture to one of
the best-known and most intensively discussed indicators of Jewish reli-
gious practice in Second Temple period Palestine.

Chronology and Geography

The widespread use of stone vessels is amply demonstrated by the large
number of sites in Jerusalem, Judea, the Jordan valley, Jewish-inhabited
parts of Perea, Galilee and Western Golan where such vessels were found,
while only very few have come to light in Samaria (is that only a result
of less intensive research in this region?).34 Only a few stone vessels have
been found in graves,35 and no comparable examples are known from the
diaspora. The current state of publication unfortunately does not allow
us to identify “regional variation between assemblages of vessels derived
from different parts of the country, nor has petrography been employed
in studies”.36
So far, stone vessels have largely been dated to the ‘Herodian Period’, dur-
ing which they were certainly in wide use. Despite a great number of finds,
it has not been possible to identify or define broad typological changes,
although at least at some places minor developments can be discerned.37
Precisely when stone vessels came to be used is still unknown. What is
clear is that they are absent from late Hellenistic sites such as the early
stages of the Hasmonean palaces at Jericho.38 From the late 1st c. onwards,
stone products rapidly spread into all segments of Jewish Palestinian soci-
ety, apparently reaching a climax in the three or two decades before the
outbreak of the First Revolt.39 The destruction of Jerusalem, “the center of
chalk vessel production, marketing, and use”,40 led to the decline of the
industry. Often, the destruction of the temple is seen as the reason for a

33 English version of Magen, Stone Vessel Industry.

34 On the distribution, see Cahill, “Chalk Vessel Assemblages”, 196–97; 225–31; Gibson,
“Stone Vessels”, 300–1; Magen, Stone Vessel Industry, 148–62 and 167–73. Recently, Yitzhak
Magen published “a number” of limestone craters (one of which very obviously resembles
a metal vessel) that for stratigraphic reasons can only date before 110 bce and whose qallal-
like form clearly demonstrates their luxury character (Magen, Mount Gerizim II, 210; 216
Fig. 289).
35 Geva, “Stone Artifacts”, 219.
36 This statement in Gibson, “Stone Vessels”, 300, still holds.
37 Geva, “Stone Artifacts”, 218–19.
38 Gibson, “Stone Vessels”, 301–2; Magen, Stone Vessel Industry, 162.
39 Gibson, “Stone Vessels”, 302; Geva, “Stone Artifacts”, 218, speaks about “more than
100 years of production”.
40 Magen, Stone Vessel Industry, 162.
 pure stone 547

reduced interest in purity, but this is not necessarily the case.41 That the
interest in purity could remain strong even without a functioning priestly
caste is demonstrated by the Mishnah, which collected, commented on
and expanded many purity-related traditions. The social consequences of
the catastrophe were equally devastating; many artisans and customers
were killed, and large groups of the population were displaced or exiled.
It seems rather that the social basis for these objects had broken away. In
any case, the use of lathe-turned vessels seems to have ceased earlier than
circulation of hand-made vessels. After the Bar Kokhba Revolt, interest in
stone vessels seems to have ended entirely, no such objects occurring in
contexts dated after the mid-second century.

Stone vessels were mass produced at locations where raw material (hard
mizzi, medium or soft nari limestone) could easily be quarried. Six such
sites are known, five of them in the vicinity of Jerusalem—“probably the
largest center for the production of stone vessels in the Early Roman
period”42—near the Golden Gate, on Mount Scopus, at Hizma, Jebel
Mukaber and Tell el-Ful, as well as Reina close to Nazareth. In addition,
stone material cut out of the hundreds of tombs in the Jerusalem necropo-
lis might also have been used as raw material for such products.43 Miller
therefore sees a direct connection between building activities and the rise
of the stone-vessel industry.44
In addition to production at quarry sites, cut stones and half-products
could have been transported to towns in order to be fully processed and
sold there; Jerusalem and several sites in the Galilee, such as Capernaum,
Sepphoris or Nabratein, as well as Gamla in the Golan, provide evidence
of such intramural workshops.45
Proper stone vessels were never the only objects produced at quarry sites;
they were only part of a much larger output of the late Second Temple
stone industry, in which ‘measuring cups’ were produced next to qallals,

41 See, e.g., Magen, Stone Vessel Industry, 162: “Upon the devastation of the Temple the
purity laws lost their focal point”. Against this opinion Miller, “Observations”; Reich, “Stone
Vessels”, 263: “The reasons for the sharp decline in use of stone implements in Jewish
settlements in Galilee, Golan, the Shephela and southern Hebron Hills after the destruc-
tion of the Temple are not entirely understood”.
42 Berlin, “Jewish Life”, 430; Gibson, “Stone Vessels”, 300; on Hizma see Gibson, “Hizma”;
Magen, Stone Vessel Industry, 5–17.
43 Gibson, “Stone Vessels”, 289–91.
44 Miller, “Observations”, 414; Miller, “Complex Common Judaism”.
45 Avigad, “Jerusalem Flourishing”; Magen, “Jerusalem as a Centre”; Berlin, “Jewish
Life”, 430.
548 jürgen k. zangenberg

geometrically decorated table tops, ossuaries, architectural elements or

sun dials, all objects of the refined lifestyle of an increasingly prosper-
ous elite that readily adopted elements of Hellenistic decorative language.
Next to these ‘domestic consumer products’, large quantities of regular
building stones were hewn out of the same rock by the same workers. All
products were either sold on the spot or transported to towns and villages
to be marketed there.46

Forms and Functions

Two basic types of stone objects can be distinguished: hand-cut and
lathe-turned. Both methods allowed mass production and document the
high and effective technological skills of the producers.47 Hand-cut and
lathe-turned types can each be divided into several sub-types ranging
from small cups to veritable architectural elements or specialized objects
such as sun-dials or ossuaries.48 On the basis of the combined finds from
Hizma, the Temple Mount and the City of David, Magen lists the follow-
ing types:49

I. Lathe-Turned Vessels
1. Small vessels turned on a small lathe:
A. Bowls
i. Small bowls
ii. Small, shallow open bowls
iii. Large, shallow open bowls
iv. Deep open bowls
v. Mortar bowls
vi. Hemispherical bowls
B. Cups
C. Goblets
D. Inkwells
E. Spice bowls

46 Gibson, “Stone Vessels”, 289; examples for pieces of architecture in Reich, “Stone
Vessels”, 271–74; Geva, “Stone Artifacts”, 228–29.
47 Gibson, “Stone Vessels”, 294–300; Magen, Stone Vessel Industry, 116–31.
48 For details, see the increasingly detailed typologies in Cahill, “Chalk Vessel Assem-
blages”, esp. 190–91 and passim; Gibson, “Stone Vessels”, 291–94; and finally Magen, Stone
Vessel Industry, 63–115 (on the finds from the Temple Mount) and systematically (Temple
Mount, Hizma and City of David), 174–80.
49 Magen, Stone Vessel Industry, 174–80.
 pure stone 549

F. Lids
G. Stoppers
H. Debitae
I. Cores
J. Lathe-turned/hand-carved cores
2. Large vessels turned on a large lathe
A. Trays
B. Kraters (several sub-types)
C. Holemouth jars
D. Large lids
E. Rounded tabletops
II. Hand-Carved Vessels
A. Mugs
B. Pitchers
C. Bowls
i. Large bowls (four forms)
ii. Small bowls (two forms)
D. Lids
E. Trays
F. Basins
G. Rectangular tables (tabletop, pillar support, column support,
table base)
H. Pressing vessels
I. Grinding vessels
J. Gaming boards
K. Sundials
L. Ossuaries

Cups, bowls, stoppers and lids are especially frequent elements of domes-
tic assemblages, either whole or in fragments. Also very common were
small, lathe-turned or hand-cut, mug-like vessels (type II A) with or with-
out handle, which are often misleadingly called ‘measuring cups’ (Fig. 24
and 25).50
The only container type that is not relatively widespread is the large
jar (qallal), whose sheer size, material value and transportation must
have made it quite an expensive item. It is widely assumed that qallal

50 Reich, “Stone Mugs”, 201–6, rejects the idea that ‘stone mugs’ were used as measur-
ing devices.
550 jürgen k. zangenberg

jars imitate Hellenistic crater/calyx forms made of bronze, granite, mar-

ble, alabaster or other kinds of stone known from outside of Palestine as
representative and decorative containers for liquids like water or wine.
In late Second Temple Palestine, such craters/calyces were copied and
produced from the only material locally available: the usual soft nari
limestone. Apart from Jerusalem, small numbers of mostly fragmented
examples were found in Judaea (e.g., En Feshkha) or Galilee (e.g., Tiberias
or Sepphoris). The question is whether Palestinian qallals were used for
the same purpose as craters/calyces in Hellenistic culture, namely the
preparation of wine for consumption by mixing it with water or spices.
If John 2 refers to qallals, such use indeed seems to be the case (Fig. 26).
Reich discusses the question of whether qallals “contained ordinary water,
drawn from the cistern and kept in the house for domestic use, or were
related to the rites involving sin-offering water. Unfortunately, we have
no information concerning the dispensing of this means of purification”.51
In any case, their elaborate form and large size suggest that qallals were
predominately used by wealthy families.52

A couple of observations may be useful when it comes to the tricky ques-

tion of the functional context of stone vessels. While some stone vessels
resemble ceramic types and demonstrate something like a ‘duplication’,
at least in certain segments of the typological spectrum (especially bowls),
other types are only attested in a single kind of material. Mug- and cup-
like types, e.g., largely occur in stone, while stone vessels are predomi-
nantly confined to open types; closed vessels like cooking pots, jugs,
juglets or lamps are rare or totally absent from the stone corpus. The
reason may well be that such forms are difficult to carve out of the soft
limestone. While the vast majority of stone vessels are small and come
from domestic contexts, no large stone vessels are known that could be
connected to storage and transport. To protect the contents of storage
vessels from impurity, jars usually seem to have been sealed with a lime,
gypsum or clay cover. At least this is how Magen interprets a number of
sealed storage jars from Qumran.53

51 Reich, “Stone Vessels”, 267.

52 Cahill, “Chalk Vessel Assemblages”, 207–9; Magen, Stone Vessel Industry, 81–90;
Deines, “Steingefäße”; on qallal as an elite object, see Reed, “Stone Vessels”, esp. 392–99,
and Miller, “Observations”, 418; Reich, “Stone Vessels”, 266–67. This is also suggested by
the early specimen from the temple city on Mt. Gerizim; see Magen, Mount Gerizim II,
210; 216 (Fig. 289).
53 Magen, Stone Vessel Industry, 139–40; skeptically, Miller, “Observations”, 415.
 pure stone 551

In contrast, stone and ceramic vessels are usually found together in

the same domestic contexts, so they were very likely also used together.
Much to the contrary, ‘dung vessels’ are so far known only from Masada,
and nothing is known of ‘earthen vessels’. But how exactly clay and stone
vessels would have been used together is rarely discussed and largely
remains unclear.54 How do I picture the use of stone vessels alongside
ceramic dishes in an average household? Did stone vessels supplement
or occasionally replace ceramic vessels? Perhaps, but when would people
turn to a stone vessel in place of a ceramic one? Some forms are indeed
suitable for bringing liquids into contact with pure water for purification
(see above). Were they used to scoop up and consume foodstuffs that
needed to remain pure? Would fruit—for example—have been kept on
stone plates to keep it pure? Were stone vessels given to people of unclear
purity status to enable them to take part in the same meal? Were ‘measur-
ing cups’ used to pour water when washing hands? Perhaps. Questions
like these are almost impossible to answer only on the basis of archaeo-
logical finds, and textual evidence is of no great help either.
Information about possible functions of vessel types is necessary,
however, to asking when people would have turned, e.g., to a stone bowl
instead of using a ceramic bowl and why that might have been the case.
The uncertainty about the factual use and functional relation of the most
frequent stone vessel types to ceramic vessels in the context of everyday
household life impedes us in coming up with clear answers to the last and
most widely discussed question: what was their ideological context?

Purity Purpose?
The geographical distribution of stone vessels suggests that they were
made and also predominantly used by the Jewish population of Palestine.
During the period of production of these vessels, Palestinian Jewish soci-
ety underwent dramatic transformations: economic growth, social differ-
entiation, increasing Mediterranean influence on material and immaterial
culture and the gradual loss of political independence after the end of the
Herodian dynasty.

54 See Berlin, “Jewish Life”, 429: “There is (. . .) neither textual evidence for nor scholarly
agreement on how and in what specific circumstances many of these stone vessels were
used, and thus no real insight on what inspired and sustained demand for the precise array
of vessels produced”.
552 jürgen k. zangenberg

In the context of these developments, Eyal Regev sees stone vessels—

next to stepped pools—as the most important indicator for the concept
of ‘non-priestly purity’ spreading across Jewish society after the late 2nd
c. bce, i.e., the quest in non-priestly circles to attain priestly standards of
purity in everyday life.55 Regev emphasizes that priests used stone ves-
sels when preparing and spreading the ashes from the Red Heifer during
temple service (m. Parah 3). This was—according to Regev—the motiva-
tion for pious laypeople to likewise use stone vessels when they wanted
to avoid impurity in daily life.
While biblical texts only list information about vessels that attract
impurity: metal, wood, leather, bone and ceramics (Lev 11:32–40; Num
31:22–24), the Mishnah is more specific. Vessels that maintain their purity
and do not attract impurity are mentioned in the Mishnah: dung vessels,
stone vessels, earthen vessels (m. Kelim 6:2; 10:1; cf. further m. Parah 5:5;
m. ʿOhal. 5:5; m. Yad. 1:2; t. Šabb. 16:11).56 As stone does not transmit impu-
rity, vessels made from this material can protect liquids contained in them
from impurity and therefore limit its expansion (m. ʿOhal. 5:5). There are
also traditions stating that impure water can be purified by pouring it into
a stone vessel (such as, e.g., a cup) and bringing it in contact with pure
water in a miqwe: then its status changes, it is purified and is ready again
for consumption (m. Beṣah 2:3).57
Why stone was associated with this quality is not entirely clear, but it
may have to do with the fact that it does not change its material charac-
teristics and consistency in the process of production. The advantages of
this material, however, are evident: Since stone vessels and the liquids and
foodstuffs contained in them are protected from impurity, impure and
pure individuals can use the same vessels and share from the same meal
without violating the laws of non-priestly purity.

55 Regev, “Non-Priestly Purity”, 229; similarly, Deines, Steingefäße, esp. 1–23; Hengel and
Deines, “Common Judaism”; Magen, Stone Vessel Industry, 163.
56 Magen, Stone Vessel Industry, 138–41. On ‘dung vessels’, see Bar-Nathan, Pottery,
235–43. Two very special kinds of objects associated with ritual purity were found in zealot
contexts on Masada: one complete example of a ceramic hand basin (plus three more frag-
ments) for washing hands and a number of crude ‘dung vessels’ (handmade from animal
dung and clay) that are almost without parallel so far and were used for storage and as
stoppers. It is likely that these objects need to be seen in connection with the strict purity
observance of this radical group, but the lack of parallels from other sites should prevent
us from seeing this as a more widespread phenomenon.
57 Magen, Stone Vessel Industry, 141–44.
 pure stone 553

I doubt, however, that this was the only or even the decisive reason
for the use of stone vessels in late Second Temple Palestinian Judaism.
Their widespread distribution all over Jewish Palestine does not support
the assumption that stone vessels were used by only one group, such as
priests or Pharisees:
Attempts to link such vessels specifically with priestly families living in
Jerusalem and in its hinterland, or with Pharisaic groups that were suppos-
edly imitating the purification practices of the priests, must remain matters
for speculation.58
Moreover, the general designation of the wide array of types and forms as
mere ‘stone vessels’ obscures more than it clarifies. I doubt if such a com-
plex set of evidence can simply be lumped together into such an unspe-
cific category only on the basis of the material used. By no means were
all objects produced from nari limestone directly connected to purity
halakhah. It makes no sense, e.g., to store bones in a stone ossuary to hold
back impurity.59 Qallals, some bowls, tabletops, spice bowls and sundials
were easy to decorate with fashionable patterns and were in increasing
demand by an elite that gradually opened up to Hellenistic style and taste,
replacing much more expensive metal or imported fine-ware equivalents.60
Such objects belong to a more utilitarian context, rather than being con-
nected with purity concerns, but they also convey a message:
Stone dishes were (. . .) recognizably local, made from the land itself, and—
most obvious and important—of a material that was religiously privileged.
Stone vessels would have communicated ethnic pride and attentiveness to
Judaism. Their appearance demonstrated conspicuous religious solidarity.61
Equally important for the use of nari limestone, therefore, was that it
was readily available and easily workable. In contrast, some very purity-
sensitive vessel types were never produced in stone: cooking pots, casse-
roles, jugs, jars and lamps.
Other forms, such as certain types of deep jars and the ubiquitous han-
dled or non-handled mugs, however, were new and are not attested in any
material but stone. These “may be plausibly connected with specific reli-
gious uses: holding water for purification rites (. . .) and, probably, hand

58 Gibson, “Stone Vessels”, 302; see also Miller, “Observation”; Miller, “Complex Com-
mon Judaism”; Berlin, “Jewish Life”, 431.
59 See, e.g., Magen, Stone Vessel Industry, 132–37.
60 Berlin, “Jewish Life”, 431.
61 Berlin, “Jewish Life”, 433.
554 jürgen k. zangenberg

washing”.62 I therefore follow Jonathan Reed, Stuart Miller and Shimon

Gibson and do not consider stone objects as general evidence for an all-
encompassing quest for purity.63 The fact that the same material was used
for all these objects is not sufficient reason to assume that they are moti-
vated by one and the same purpose.

Chronology is also important. At locations in Judea that were already

abandoned in the Hasmonean period, no stone vessels were found (Tirat
Yehuda, Bet-Zur, Nebi Samwil). The oldest specimens come from the
late Hasmonean phases of the palaces in Jericho, but the number is still
very small.64 In fact, stone vessels did not become widely used before the
Herodian period, in the 2nd half of the 1st c. bce. Eyal Regev remarks
that this date overlaps with the lively debate on purity between Hillel
and Shammai in the time of Herod and takes it as evidence for the con-
nection between stone industry and a supposedly growing awareness of
purity matters under Pharisaic leadership, but the question is if this is
more than a coincidence. Regev himself emphasizes, however, that the
quest for purity is older than the debate between Hillel and Shammai,
so the two rabbis cannot be the impetus for such a widespread regional
phenomenon. It rather seems that international contacts, growing pros-
perity and the increasing internal social differentiation of the Herodian
period provided Palestinian Jewish society with the artistic and material
means to give traditional religious needs new ways of appropriate expres-
sion. The booming limestone industry was one example of how to satisfy
a growing market of common and luxury goods; some of its products were
status symbols for the better-off, while others may well have been used by
others to fulfill halakhic purposes.
If there was anything like a common quest for non-priestly purity, it
seems that it existed without stone vessels for quite some time and even
continued when the use of stone vessels decreased and eventually ceased
during the 2nd c. ce, just at a time when textual sources begin to speak
about stone vessels with increasing intensity.65 While there was obviously
a continuum of common Jewish tenets such as purity, we lack a corre-
sponding continuum in the field of material culture.

62 Berlin, “Jewish Life”, 431.

63 Reed, “Stone Vessels”; Miller, “Observations”; Gibson, “Stone Vessels”; see also Zan-
genberg, “Common Judaism”.
64 Magen, Stone Vessel Industry, 162.
65 On that important phenomenon, see Miller, “Observations”.
 pure stone 555

Figs. 1–4. Types of Miqwa’ot. Hoss, Baths and Bathing, M Cat. Nr. 1.
556 jürgen k. zangenberg

Figs. 5–7. Stepped Pools from Gezer. Hoss, Baths and Bathing, M Cat. Nr. 9.
 pure stone 557

Fig. 8. Stepped Pool A(L)350 from Herod’s Second Palace at Jericho. Netzer,
Palaces I, 217, Fig. 311.

Fig. 9. Detailed Plan of Stepped Pool A(L)350 from Herod’s Second Palace at
Jericho. Netzer, Palaces I, 216, Fig. 310.
558 jürgen k. zangenberg

Fig. 10. Plan of Area R in Gamla: Miqwe in Domestic Complex. Hoss, Baths and
Bathing, M Cat. Nr. 6.

Fig. 11. Stepped Pool next to Synagogue in Gamla. Stern, The New Encyclopedia
of Archaelogical excavations in the Holy Land. Vol. 2, 459.
 pure stone 559

Fig. 12. Pools from the South-East Annex at Qumran. Galor, Plastered Pools, 313,
Fig. 25.
 560
jürgen k. zangenberg

Fig. 13. Western Half on Industrial Building FB1 with Pottery Kiln and Stepped Pools at Jericho Palaces. Netzer,
Palaces II, 84, Fig. 111.
 pure stone

Fig. 14. Schematic Plan of the Main Industrial Building in Zone F during Phase 3a at Jericho. Netzer, Palaces II, 132, plan 21.
561
562 jürgen k. zangenberg

Fig. 15. Stepped Pool next to House and Oil Press in Qedumim/Samaria. Hoss,
Baths and Bathing, M Cat. Nr. 30.
 pure stone 563

Figs. 16–18. Stepped Pools in Qedumim/Samaria. Magen, Immersion, 188, fig. 3–5.
564 jürgen k. zangenberg

Figs. 19–20. Mourning Enclosure with Stepped Pool in Jericho Herodian

Necropolis. Hoss, Baths and Bathing, M Cat. Nr. 12.
 pure stone 565

Fig. 21. Domestic Quarter on Mount Gerizim: Plan of the North-Western Block of Western
Quarter with Bath Tubs. Magen, Gerizim II, 29, fig. 46.
566 jürgen k. zangenberg

Fig. 22. Bathroom L-14 in Building A-1 (see Fig. 21). Magen, Gerizim II, 33, fig. 54.

Fig. 23. Shoe-Shaped Stone Bathtub in Bathroom L-14 of Building A-1

(see Fig. 21). Magen, Gerizim II, 33, fig. 55.
 pure stone 567

Fig. 24. Chalk Kraters (qallal) and Mugs from the Jewish Quarter Excavations at
Jerusalem. Magen, Stone Vessel Industry, pl. 13a.
568 jürgen k. zangenberg

Fig. 25. Chalk Vessel Assemblage from the Excavations near the Temple Mount in
Jerusalem. Magen, Stone Vessel Industry, pl. 9.

Fig. 26. Kraters from the Jewish Quarter Excavations at Jerusalem. Magen, Stone
Vessel Industry, pl. 13b.
 pure stone 569

5. Conclusion

Differentiation is necessary when it comes to contextualizing stone ves-

sels and stepped pools in Jewish culture of Greco-Roman Palestine. The
vagueness of OT commandments on how to practically regain and main-
tain purity inspired lively discussions and technological innovation, partly
inspired by Hellenism (e.g., hydraulic plaster, turning lathe); and grow-
ing prosperity during the late Hellenistic (‘Herodian’) Period provided
Palestinian Judaism with the means to practically fulfill the demands of
purity through material objects or installations. It would be too restrictive,
however, to subsume all stone vessels and stepped pools under the rubric
of products used in a common quest for purity.

Bibliography

Adler, Yonatan. “Ritual Baths Adjacent to Tombs: An Analysis of the Archaeological

Evidence in Light of the Halakhic Sources”. Journal of Jewish Studies 40,1 (2009): 55–73.
——. “Second Temple Period Ritual Baths Adjacent to Agricultural Installations: The
Archaeological Evidence in Light of the Halakhic Sources”. Journal of Jewish Studies 59
(2008): 62–72.
——. “The Ritual Baths Near the Temple Mount and Extra-Purification before Entering the
Temple Courts: A Reply to Eyal Regev”. Israel Exploration Journal 56 (2006): 209–15.
Avigad, Naham. “Jerusalem Flourishing—A Craft Center for Stone, Pottery and Glass”.
Biblical Archaeological Review 9,6 (1983): 48–65.
Bar-Nathan, Rachel. The Pottery of Masada: Masada VII: The Yigael Yadin Excavations
1963–1965 Final Reports. The Masada Reports. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society,
2006.
Berlin, Andrea. “Jewish Life before the Revolt: The Archaeological Evidence”. Journal for
the Study of Judaism 36 (2005): 417–70.
Cahill, Jane M. “Chalk Vessel Assemblages of the Persian/Hellenistic and Early Roman
Periods”. Pages 190–278 in Excavations at the City of David 1978–1985 Directed by Yigal
Shiloh. Qedem 33. Edited by A. DeGroot and D. T. Ariel. Jerusalem: The Institute of
Archaeology, 1992.
Deines, Roland. “The Pharisees between ‘Judaisms’ and ‘Common Judaism’”. Pages 443–504
in Justification and Variegated Nomism: Vol. 1: The Complexities of Second Temple Judaism.
Edited by D. A. Carson, P. T. O’Brien and M. A. Seifrid. Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen
zum Neuen Testament 2: Reihe 140. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2001.
——. “The Pools of Sepphoris—Ritual Baths or Bathtubs? They’re Not Ritual Baths”.
Biblical Archaeology Review 26,4 (2000): 42–45 and 49.
——. Jüdische Steingefäße und pharisäische Frömmigkeit: Ein archäologisch-historischer
Beitrag zum Verständnis von Joh 2,6 und der jüdischen Reinheitshalacha zur Zeit Jesu:
Wissenschaftliche Untersuchungen zum Neuen Testament. 2. Reihe 52. Tübingen: Mohr
Siebeck, 1993.
Eshel, Hanan. “A Note on ‘Miqvaot’ at Sepphoris”. Pages 131–33 in Archaeology and the
Galilee: Texts and Contexts in the Graeco-Roman and Byzantine Periods. South Florida
Studies in the History of Judaism 143. Edited by D. R. Edwards, and C. T. McCollough.
Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1997.
570 jürgen k. zangenberg

Galor, Katharina. “The Stepped Water Installations of the Sepphoris Acropolis”. Pages
201–13 in The Archaeology of Difference: Gender, Ethnicity, Class and the ‘Other’ in
Antiquity: Studies in Honour of Eric M. Meyers. The Annual of the American Schools
of Oriental Research 60/61. Edited by D. R. Edwards, and C. T. McCollough. Boston:
American Schools of Oriental Research, 2007.
——. “Plastered Pools: A New Perspective”. Pages 291–320 in Khirbet Qumrân et ‘Ain
Feshkha: Vol. 2: Études d’Anthropologie, de Physique et de Chimie: Studies of Anthropology,
Physics and Chemistry. Novum Testamentum et Orbis Antiquus: Series Archaeologica 3.
Edited by J. B. Humbert and J. Gunneweg. Fribourg, Göttingen: Academic Press, 2003.
Geva, Hillel. “Stone Artifacts”. Pages 218–38 in Jewish Quarter Excavations in the Old City of
Jerusalem Conducted by Nahman Avigad 1969–1982: Vol. 3: Area E and Other Studies: Final
Report. Edited by H. Geva. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 2006.
Gibson, Shimon. “The Pool of Bethesda in Jerusalem and Jewish Purification Practices of
the Second Temple Period”. Proche-Orient Chrétien 55 (2005): 270–93.
——. “Stone Vessels of the Early Roman Period from Jerusalem and Palestine. A
Reassessment”. Pages 287–308 in One Land—Many Cultures: Archaeological Studies in
Honor of Stanislao Loffreda OFM. Studium Biblicum Franciscanum. Collectio maior 41.
Edited by G. C. Bottini et al. Jerusalem: Franciscan Printing Press, 2003.
——. “The Stone Vessel Industry at Hizma”. Israel Exploration Journal 33 (1983): 176–88.
Grossberg, Asher. “The Miqva’ot (Ritual Baths) at Masada”. Pages 95–126 in Masada VIII:
The Yigael Yadin Excavations 1963–1965: Final Reports. Edited by J. Aviram, G. Foerster
and E. Netzer. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, The Hebrew University of Jerusalem,
2007.
Harrington, Hannah K. The Purity Texts. Companion to the Qumran Scrolls 5. London:
T & T Clark International, 2004.
——. Holiness: Rabbinic Judaism and the Graeco-Roman World. Religion in the First
Christian Centuries 6. London: Routledge, 2001.
Hengel, Martin, and Roland Deines. “E. P. Sanders’ ‘Common Judaism’, Jesus and the
Pharisees: Review Article of Jewish Law from the Jesus to the Mishnah and Judaism:
Practice and Belief by E.P. Sanders”. Journal of Theological Studies 46 (1995): 1–70.
Hieke, Thomas. “Die Unreinheit der Leiche nach der Tora”. Pages 43–65 in The Human
Body in Death and Resurrection. Deuterocanonical and Cognate Literature Yearbook
2009. Edited by T. Nicklas, F. V. Reiterer and J. Verheyden. Berlin: de Gruyter, 2009.
Hodder, Ian, and Shanks, Michael. “Processual, Postprocessual and Interpretive
Archaeologies” Pages 3–29 in Interpreting Archaeology: Finding Meaning in the Past.
Edited by I. Hodder, M. Shanks, A. Alexandri, V. Buchli, J. Carman, J. Last and G. Lucas.
London: Routledge, 1995.
Hoss, Stefanie. Baths and Bathing: The Culture of Bathing and the Baths and Thermae in
Israel from the Hasmoneans to the Moslem Conquest (with an Appendix on Miqva’ot).
British Archaeological Reports: International Series 1346. Oxford: Archaeopress, 2005.
Lawrence, Jonathan D. Washing in Water: Trajectories of Ritual Bathing in the Hebrew Bible
and Second Temple Literature. Academia Biblica 23. Leiden: Brill, 2006.
Magen, Yitzhak. “Immersion in Ritual Baths and the Maintenance of Purity among the
Samaritans”. Pages 183–95 in The Samaritans and the Good Samaritan. Judea and
Samaria Publications 7. Translated by E. Levin. Jerusalem: Staff Officer of Archaeology,
Civil Administration for Judea and Samaria, 2008.
——. Mount Gerizim Excavations: Vol. II: A Temple City. Judea and Samaria Publications 8.
Jerusalem: Staff Officer of Archaeology, Civil Administration of Judea and Samaria,
Israel Antiquities Authority, 2008.
——. The Stone Vessel Industry in the Second Temple Period: Excavations at Hizma and the
Jerusalem Temple Mount. Judea and Samaria Publications 1. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration
Society, 2002.
——. “Jerusalem as a Center of the Stone Vessel Industry during the Second Temple
Period”. Pages 244–56 in Ancient Jerusalem Revealed. Edited by H. Geva. Jerusalem:
Israel Exploration Society, 1994.
 pure stone 571

——. The Stone Vessel Industry in the Days of the Second Temple. Tel Aviv: Society for the
Protection of Nature, 1988 (Hebrew).
Meyers, Eric M. “‘Common Judaism’ and the Common Judaism of Material Culture”. Pages
153–74 in Redefining First-Century Jewish and Christian Identities. Essays in Honor of Ed
Parish Sanders. Edited by F. Udoh. Notre Dame, Ind.: Univ. of Notre Dame Press, 2008.
——. “Aspects of Everyday Life in Roman Palestine with Special Reference to Private
Domiciles and Ritual Baths”. Pages 193–220 in Jews in the Hellenistic and Roman Cities.
Edited by J. R. Bartlett. London: Routledge, 2002.
——. “Jewish Culture in Greco-Roman Palestine”. Pages 135–79 in Cultures of the Jews: A
New History. Edited by D. Biale. New York: Schocken Books, 2002.
——. “The Pools of Sepphoris: Ritual Baths or Bathtubs? Yes, They Are”. Biblical Archaeology
Review 26,4 (2000): 46–49.
Milgrom, Jacob. Leviticus: A Book of Rituals and Ethics: A Continental Commentary.
Continental Commentaries. Minneapolis, Min.: Fortress Press, 2004.
Miller, Stuart S. “Stepped Pools, Stone Vessels, and Other Identity Markers of ‘Complex
Common Judaism’”. Journal for the Study of Judaism 41,2 (2010): 214–43.
——. “Stepped Pools and the Non-Existent Monolithic ‘Miqveh’”. Pages 215–34 in The
Archaeology of Difference: Gender, Ethnicity, Class and the ‘Other’ in Antiquity: Studies in
Honor of Eric M. Meyers. Edited by D. R. Edwards and C. T. McCollough. Boston, Mass.:
American Schools of Oriental Research, 2007.
——. “Some Observations on Stone Vessel Finds and Ritual Purity in Light of Talmudic
Sources”. Pages 402–19 in Zeichen aus Text und Stein: Studien auf dem Weg zu einer
Archäologie des Neuen Testaments. Texte und Arbeiten zum neutestamentlichen
Zeitalter 42. Edited by S. Alkier and J. Zangenberg. Tübingen: Francke, 2003.
Netzer, Ehud. Hasmonean and Herodian Palaces at Jericho: Final Reports of the 1973–1987
Excavations: Vol. 2: Excavations, Stratigraphy and Architecture. Jerusalem: Israel
Exploration Society, 2004.
——. Hasmonean and Herodian Palaces at Jericho: Final Reports of the 1973–1987 Excavations:
Vol. 1: Stratigraphy and Architecture. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 2001.
Poorthuis, Marcel J. H. M., and Joshua Schwartz, eds. Purity and Holiness: The Heritage of
Leviticus. Leiden: Brill, 2000.
Porath, Yosef. “Hydraulic Plaster in Aqueducts as a Chronological Indicator”. Pages 25–36
in The Aqueducts of Israel. Journal of Roman Archaeology: Supplementary Series 46.
Edited by D. Amit, Y. Hirschfeld and J. Patrich. Portsmouth, Ri.: Journal of Roman
Archaeology, 2002.
Reed, Jonathan L. “Stone Vessels and Gospel Texts: Purity and Socio-Economics in John 2”.
Pages 381–401 in Zeichen aus Text und Stein: Studien auf dem Weg zu einer Archäologie
des Neuen Testaments. Texte und Arbeiten zum neutestamentlichen Zeitalter 42. Edited
by S. Alkier, and J. Zangenberg. Tübingen: Francke, 2003.
Regev, Eyal. “The Ritual Baths Near the Temple Mount and Extra-Purification before
Entering the Temple Courts”. Israel Exploration Journal 55,2 (2005): 194–204.
——. “Non-Priestly Purity and Its Religious Aspects according to Historical Sources and
Findings”. Pages 223–44 in Purity and Holiness: The Heritage of Leviticus. Edited by
M. J. H. M. Poorthuis and J. Schwartz. Leiden: Brill, 2000.
——. “Pure Individualism: The Idea of Non-Priestly Purity in Ancient Judaism”. Journal for
the Study of Judaism 31,2 (2000): 176–202.
Reich, Ronny. “Stone Mugs from Masada”. Pages 195–206 in Masada VIII: The Yigael Yadin
Excavations 1963–1965: Final Reports. Edited by J. Aviram, G. Foerster and E. Netzer.
Israel Exploration Society, The Hebrew University of Jerusalem, 2007.
——. “Stone Vessels, Weights and Archaeological Fragments”. Pages 256–91 in Jewish
Quarter Excavations in the Old City of Jerusalem Conducted by Nahman Avigad 1969–1982:
Vol. 2: The Finds from Areas A, W and X-2: Final Report. Edited by H. Geva. Jerusalem:
Israel Exploration Society, 2003.
——. “They Are Ritual Baths: Immerse Yourself in the Ongoing Sepphoris Miqwe Debate”.
Biblical Archaeological Review 28,2 (2002): 50–55.
572 jürgen k. zangenberg

——. “Area A-Stratigraphy and Architecture: Hellenistic to Medieval Strata 6–1”. Pages
83–110 in Jewish Quarter Excavations in the Old City of Jerusalem Conducted by Nahman
Avigad 1969–1982: Vol. 1. Edited by H. Geva. Jerusalem: Israel Exploration Society, 2000.
——. “The Synagogue and the Miqweh in Eretz-Israel in the Second-Temple, Mishnaic
and Talmudic Periods”. Pages 289–97 in Ancient Synagogues: Historical Analysis and
Archaeological Discovery: Vol. 1. Studia Post-Biblica. Edited by D. Urman, and P. Flesher.
Leiden: Brill, 1995.
——. “The Great Mikveh Debate”. Biblical Archaeology Review 19,2 (1993): 52–53.
——. “The Hot Bath-House (balneum), the Miqweh and the Jewish Community in the
Second Temple Period”. Journal of Jewish Studies 39 (1988): 102–7.
Sanders, Ed P. Judaism. Practice and Belief 63 BCE-66 CE. London: SCM Press, 1992.
Selkin Wise, Carol. “Miqwa’ôt and Second Temple Sectarianism”. Pages 181–200 in The
Archaeology of Difference. Gender, Ethnicity, Class and the ‘Other’ in Antiquity: Studies in
Honor of Eric M. Meyers. Edited by D. R. Edwards and C. T. McCollough. Boston, Mass.:
American Schools of Oriental Research, 2007.
Stern, Ephraim, ed. The New Encyclopedia of Archaeological Excavations in the Holy Land:
Vol. 2. 5 vols. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1993.
Wood, Bryant G. “To Dip or to Sprinkle? The Qumran Cisterns in Perspective”. Bulletin of
the American Schools of Oriental Research 256 (1984): 45–60.
Wright, Benjamin G. III. “Jewish Ritual Baths–Interpreting the Digs and the Texts: Some
Issues in the Social History of Second Temple Judaism”. Pages 190–214 in The Archaeology
of Israel: Constructing the Past, Interpreting the Present. Journal for the Study of the Old
Testament: Supplement Series 237. Edited by N. Silberman, and D. Small. Sheffield:
Sheffield Academic Press, 1995.
Zangenberg, Jürgen. “‘Common Judaism’ and the Multidimensional Nature of Material
Culture”. Pages 175–93 in Redefining First-Century Jewish and Christian Identities: Essays
in Honor of Ed Parish Sanders. Edited by F. Udoh. Notre Dame, Ind.: University of Notre
Dame Press, 2008.
 INDEX OF MODERN AUTHORS

Abegg Jr., Martin 502n33 Carroll, Michael P. 338

Achenbach, Reinhard 361f, 379n28, Carter, Charles E. 359
385n40, 405n104 Casadio, Giovanni 262f
Albertz, Rainer 317, 359, 469 Castelli, Silvia 477
Alexander, Phillip 502n33 Charpin, Dominique 56, 58f
Alter, Eliezer 541 Choksy, Jamsheed K. 191n16
Anderson, Gary 485 Cole, Susan G. 225n114
André, Jacques 267 Collins, John 478
Arbesmann, Rudolphus 263 Conrad, J. 527n36
Assmann, Jan 132, 278 Cowley, Arthur E. 361

Baentsch, Bruno 382n35 Daumas, François 276

Barmash, Pamela 405n104 Davidson, James 266f
Bartelmus, Rüdiger 478, 482 Davies, Eryl W. 382
Baudy, Dorothea 294 Davies, Philip 315
Baumgarten, Joseph 485, 497n15, 522n20, Deines, Roland 538
523n23, 523n25, 532n53, 534n62 Deshours, Nadine 211n58, 217n82
Bedenbender, Andreas 478 Detienne, Marcel 263, 268, 276
Bell, Catherine 9f, 352f, 356f Dickinson, Oliver 203n20
Bendlin, Andreas 290 Dillmann, August 326
Bergen, Wesley J. 314, 358 Dimant, Devorah 478
Berger, Klaus 485 Donceel, Robert 496n12
Berlejung, Angelika 389n50, 392n59, Donceel-Voûte, Pauline 496n12
394n65, 394n66 Döring, Lutz 477
Berlin, Andrea 547n42, 551n54, 553f Douglas, Mary 4–10, 115, 159, 166, 269,
Bernabé Pejares, Alberto 262, 265, 277 314, 316, 325f, 342, 350–352, 358
Bernays, Jacob 281 Dumont, Louis 329
Bibb, Bryan D. 314, 319 Durisch, Nicole 272
Black, Matthew 478
Blenkinsopp, Joseph 359, 459, 473f Edelman, Diana 359, 361
Block, Daniel I. 438 Ego, Beate 341, 478, 483, 485, 486
Blum, Erhard 314, 338 Eilberg-Schwartz, Howard 329f
Bömer, Franz 223n107 Eisenman, Robert 502n33
Bonnet, Corinne 269 Erbele-Küster, Dorothea 483n28
Borchardt, Ludwig 272 Erbse, Hartmut 209
Borgeaud, Philippe 224n110, 261, 265, Eshel, Esther 532n51, 532n56
269, 278f
Boyce, Mary 390 Fehrle, Eugen 196n4, 225n113
Brakke, David 270 Flusser, David 497, 497n17, 497n18
Broshi, Magen 526n35 Frandsen, Paul J. 271
Brownlee, William 497n19 Frevel, Christian 311, 329
Bruit, Louise 263, 265 Frey, Jörg 526n34, 526n35
Bruneau, Philippe 210n53 Fried, Lisbeth S. 361
Büchler, Adolf 343 Frymer-Kensky, Tikva 328
Burkert, Walter 200n17, 263
Galor, Katharina 542, 544n21
Cambiano, Giuseppe 267 Gamer-Wallert, Ingrid 272
Carr, David 318 Gane, Roy E. 321, 326, 345–349, 373
574 index of modern authors

García Martínez, Florentino 486, Houston, Walter 336

502–504, 507, 508, 512, 513, 527n36, Howe, Timothy 216n78
533n59, 534n63 Hundley, Michael 327
Gärtner, Bertil 500 Huppenbauer, Hans 498
Geertz, C. 350 Hutter, Manfred 390n53, 390n55
Gerstenberger, Erhard S. 358, 483
Gibson, Shimon 546n36, 553, 554 Ikram, Salima 272, 276
Gilders, William K. 345
Ginzberg, Louis 495 Jameson, Michael 281n59
Golb, Norman 496n12 Janal, Jiří 146f
Goldenberg, Robert 478 Janowski, Bernd 346
Goldin, Simha 489 Janzen, David 465
Gorman, Frank H. 328 Jenson, Philip P. 320, 336, 350
Götze, Albrecht 164 Johnston, Sarah I. 261
Grabbe, Lester L. 362 Jost, Madeleine 209n45
Graf, Fritz 261 Jürgens, Benedikt 346
Grätz, Sebastian 362 Junker, Herrmann 122
Greenberg, Moshe 430
Grimal, Nicolas 272 Kazen, Thomas 337, 344
Grottanelli, Cristiano 263, 275 Keil, Josef 229n128
Grünwaldt, Klaus 349 Keimer, Ludwig 276
Gunneweg, Antonius H. J. 440n28 Kellermann, Diether 382n35, 401
Kellermann, Ulrich 489
Haber, Susan 477 Kern, Otto 262, 265
Hagedorn, Anselm C. 317 King, Helen 200n14
Halpern-Amaru, Betsy 485 Kiuchi, Nobuyoshi 335, 348f, 371
Hanson, Paul 478 Klawans, Joachim 321, 327f, 337, 342,
Haran, Menahem 316, 336 344, 477, 494n1, 494n2, 507–509, 512f,
Harrington, Hannah K. 328n44, 363n125, 519–524, 526n32, 530n48
458, 502, 502n34, 504, 505–507, 511n57, Knibb, Michael 478, 528n39
522n15, 523n21, 533n60, 540n8 Konkel, Michael 396n69
Hartley, John E. 323, 326 Kretschmer, P. 213n67
Hartmann, Fernande 276 Kugler, Robert 487
Hartog, Francois 273f
Harvey, Davies 268 L’Hour, Jean 320
Hausleiter, Johannes 263 Lange, Armin 481, 482, 522n14, 522n16,
Hayes, Christine 471f, 477 525n30, 526n35, 529n41, 530n44,
Hempel, Charlotte 513n60 532n54
Henderson, Jeffrey 200n15 Lawrence, Jonathan D. 541
Hengel, Martin 538 Lee, Won W. 380n30
Henten, Jan W. van 489 Lehnart, Bernhard 389
Herda, Alexander 245n3 Lemaire, André 359, 361
Herrmann, Siegfried 418 Levenson, Jon D. 430n6
Hieke, Thomas 381n33 Levine, Baruch A. 338, 345, 373f, 394,
Himmelfarb, Martha 481, 482, 485, 441n32, 523n24
520n8, 521n11, 522, 523n21, 530n47, Lichtenberger, Hermann 522n14, 522n16,
533n60 525n30, 526n35, 530n44, 532n54
Hoffmann, David 335, 337 Lichtheim, Miriam 272
Hoffner, Harry A. 164, 168 Lightfoot, Janet L. 211n57
Hölscher, Tonio 292 Lim, Timothy 502n33
Holtz, Gudrun 363, 477, 525n28, 533n58 Lipschits, Oded 359
Hornung, Erik 132 Liss, Hanna 275
Horst, Pieter W. van der 269 Losekam, Claudia 478, 481f
Hoss, Stefanie 541 Lozachmeur, Hélène 361
 index of modern authors 575

Maccobi, Hyam 393n63 Qimron, Elisha 481

Macris, Constantinos 261, 263
Magen, Yitzhak 496n12, 544–546, 548 Rabin, Chaim 495, 495n6
Malul, Meir 330 Rattray, Susan 339
Marx, Alfred 311, 327 Ravid, Liora 477
Maul , Stephan M. 89, 96–98 Reed, Jonathan L. 554
Meeks, Dimitri 271 Reed, Annette Y. 478
Meier, Sam 332 Regev, Eyal 320, 342, 363, 477, 519–523,
Meshorer, Ya’akov 361 531n50, 552, 554
Metso, Sarianna 496n13, 528n39 Reich, Ronny 549n50, 550
Michel, Diethelm 389 Reinach, Théodore 279
Milgrom, Jacob 311, 320, 323f, 326, 328, Repici, Luciana 267
332, 335, 337f, 340f, 343–346, 348, 371f, Rhodes, James 477
374f, 396, 399, 402–404, 442, 449, Riedweg, Christophe 263
463n21, 465, 477, 483f, 494n2, 523n24, Ringgren, Helmer 498
530n45, 530n46 Robinson, James 497n19, 502n33
Milik, Jósef T. 478, 479, 482, 497, Rooke, Deborah W. 360
497n14 Rose, Wolter H. 360
Miller, Stuart S. 539, 547, 554 Rösel, Martin 388n46
Mohrmann, Douglas C. 342 Rudhardt, Jean 281
Montet, Pierre 271 Rudnig, Thilo A. 435n17
Moreno Garcia, Juan Carlos 276 Ruiten, Jacques T. van 483–485
Morris, Sarah P. 206n36 Ruwe, Andreas 316
Moulinier, Louis 198n11
Mullen, Theodore E. 315 Sabbattucci, Dario 263, 268
Muntzberg, David 541f Saleh, Mohamed 272
Murphy O’Connor, Jerome 528n39 Sallaberger, Walter 48
Sanders, Ed P. 538, 540–542, 545n29
Nagy, Agnès A. 276 Sarkady, Janos 203n20
Naville, Edouard 272 Scarpi, Paolo 266
Neusner, Jacob 477, 499–501, 504 Schäfer, Peter 278
Newsom, Carol 478, 479 Schaper, Joachim 351, 354, 361
Newton, Michael 501, 501n30, 501n31, Scharbert, Josef 374
501n32, 504, 522n20 Schechter, Solomon 495
Nickelsburg, George 478–482 Scheid, John 293, 299
Nihan, Christophe 313f, 316, 325, 329–330, Schiffman, Lawrence 496n12, 532n56
336, 338–340, 347f, 354, 360, 372, 375, Schmitt-Pantel, Pauline 263
403, 404 Schott, Siegfried 132f
Nilsson, Martin P. 196n5, 222n102, Schwally, Friedrich 414
246–248 Schwartz, Daniel 488f
Noam, Vered 275, 391n57, 393n64 Scullion, Scott 211n59
Noth, Martin 382 Seebass, Horst 389, 405n100, 405n104
Seidl, Theodor 346
Obbinck, Dick 281 Seitz, Gottfried 422
Olyan, Saul 320, 468, 472 Sethe, Kurt H. 271
Otto, Eckart 420 Shanks, Hershel 502n33
Sklar, Jay 373
Parker, Robert 115, 198–200, 224n110, 247, Smith, Robertson 4–7, 211n59
263, 268, 281, 328, 330f Sokolowski, Franciszek 210n51, 213n67
Paschen, Wilfried 326, 416, 483 Sourouzian, Hourig 272
Peleg, Yuval 496n12 Sporn, Katja 221n97, 236n143
Pfann, Stephen 502n33 Staubli, Thomas 374, 483
Poorthuis, Marcel J. H. M. 270 Stern, Menahem 281
Purcell, Nicholas 267f Stevenson, Kalinda R. 430n6
576 index of modern authors

Strauß, Rita 164f, 170 Watts, James W. 314, 318

Stuckenbruck, Loren 478 Weinfeld, Moshe 416, 419n14, 423
Sukenik, Eleazar 496, 496n8 Wellhausen, Julius 429
Suter, David Winston 478 Wenham, Gordon 326, 483
Werman, Kana 477
Taggar-Cohen, Ada 169 Werrett, Ian 363, 510n50, 510n53, 513n60,
Tigchelaar, Eibert J. C. 502n33, 527n36, 521n9, 521n10, 522n19, 535n64
533n59, 534n63 Whitekettle, Richard 323, 328f, 331, 483
Toorn, Karel van der 48, 332 Wilhelm, Gernot 165
Tov, Emanuel 502n33 Willems, Harco 147
Trümpy, Catherine 203n21, 211n59 Witte, Markus 478
Wright, David P. 311, 321f, 325, 327, 334,
Uhlig, Siegfried 478 337f, 349–351, 354, 374, 478, 479, 483
Wuthnow, R. 350n93
VanderKam, James 457n2, 477, 496n13
Vaux, Roland de 495n5, 496n13 Yadin, Yigael 391n57, 497n16, 505n40
Vernant, Jean-Pierre 198n11, 268 Yoyotte, Jean 278
Vogt, Ernst 434
Volokhine, Youri 269, 272 Zenger, Erich 346
Vos, Clarence 483 Ziehen, Ludwig 213n67, 231n134
Zimmerli, Walter 433
Wacholder, Ben Zion 502n33 Zografou, Athanassia 268
Wächter, Theodor 196n4, 215n75, 263 Zunino, Maddalena L. 217n82
Wandrey, Irina 478
 INDEX OF SOURCES

Egyptian Texts

Amenemhet, Annals of 141 P. Berlin 3055 116

P. BM 10446 142
Book of the Dead 145, 151 P. Brooklyn 47.218.50 128
chapter 30B 118 P. Busca 128
chapter 64 118 P. Carlsberg 386 + 123
chapter 105 146 P. Berlin 14938
chapter 125 148–150 P. Carlsberg 658 135
chapter 140 118 P. Chester Beatty
chapter 145 147 IX vs. B 12, 10–13, 9 138
Book of the Temple 119 IX vs. B 17, 4–18, 7 138f
Book of Thot 150 IX vs. B 18, 7–10 139
P. Gardiner 1–4 146
CT VII 449, d–e 150 P. Louvre
2424 142
Daily Temple Ritual 116 2431 142
Dendara 2443 142
IV 249, 16–17 128 P. Westcar
VIII 92, 2 118 10, 1–2 143
11, 18–19 143
Edfou Philae, Inscription from 121
III, 78, 10–79, 4 125f Piye, Stela of 141
III, 360, 12–362, 4 123–125 Pyramid Texts 145
Esna 197, 16–21 119, 140f § 218c 271

Gatseschni, Book of the 144 RAD 75, 4–8 (Elephantine 122

Death of Scandal)
Ritual of Amenophis 116
Kom Ombo, text 878 123–125 Ritual of Opening the Mouth 117, 139f

Mena, letter of 141 Senmut, Tomb of 147

Neferti, Prophecy of 141 TT 60 140

Tomb Inscription, Teti 143
Ostracon Narmouthis 109 123 Cemetery

Mesopotamian Texts

BAM 3, 318: iii 23 87 Curse of Agade

BM 50503: 1‘ 73 129–130 73
BRM IV, 18: 1–7 90 16–17 76
BRR, 112: 2–5 81 29–30 57

Civil, Forunners of Marû 62 Enki and Ninḫursaĝa 60

and Ḫamṭu, col. iii 8–25 63f
51–59 67f
578 index of sources

Enlil and Ninlil: 64 63 Rīm-Sîn F: 18–22 70

Enlil Hymn A: 41–42 72
SAA
Gudea 8, 231: 3’-6’ 87
Cyl. A: col. xiii, 3–4 76 10, 69 82
Cyl. B: col. i, 12 54 10, 212 82
Cyl. B: col. iv, 17–20 66 10, 277: 9–15 82
Cyl. B: col. iv, 6 54 10, 352: 13–21 103
SAACT
Haya Hymn: 38 68 5, tablet 16: 88–92 104
Ḫendursaĝa Hymn: 18 62 7, tablet I: 43–120 91
7, tablet II: 108–111 92
Inana and Šukaletuda: 82 77f 7, tablet II: 5–9 91
Schol. Ov. Ib. 451 215
KAR Sîn-iddinam to Utu: 21–29 78
177: r. iii 42–ii 6 86 Šulgi A: 56–60 76
178: r. 55–56 86 Šumma ālu 83, 86, 96
Kusu Hymn: 20–24 69 CT 39, 38: 8–15 83
Šumma izbu
LKA n 112 96–98 tablet 1: 69 87
Ludlul bēl nēmeqi 91–93 tablet 37–49 96
Šurpu 62, 88f, 92,
Maqlû 98–100, 98–100,
102–104 102–104
tablet I: 18–20 101
Nanna E tablet II: 100–103 89
10–11 67 tablet V–VI: 1–34 92
27–31 68 tablet V–VI: 35–39 98
38–39 68 tablet V–VI: 62–72 101
40–41 69 tablet VII: 81 62
54–55 68
left edge 63n66 TMH 3, 10 (Lugalbanda): 70 75
Nergal Hymn (SRT, 12): 58 72
Nin-Isina’s Journey: 20–21 69 UET
Nippur Lament 5 366: 6–18 75n112
54 72 6, 1 (Enki and Ninḫursaĝa): 60
59 71 col. ii: 16–18
86–88 79 6, 1 (Enki and Ninḫursaĝa): 60
Nisaba C: 6 55 rev. col ii
Nuska hymn (SGL II): 11 71, 72 6, 414: 14 56
Ur Lament: 350–351 72
Proverbs URU-KA-gi-na RIME 1.9.9.1: 63
1.19 54 col. xii 41–44
2.115 54
3.161 75 VS 17, 17: 6–8 (incantation) 77
3.8 75
 index of sources 579

Hittite Texts

CTH 471 170 24.2 obv. 18–19 164

24.3+ 164
Hittite laws 29.7 + Rs.48ff. 167
§44b (Hoffner) 167 43.58 i 40ff 160
§164–165 (Hoffner) 170
Samuha ritual (CTH 480; 167
KUB KUB 29.7+ Rs. 48ff.)
17.10 iv 8–19 168

Phoenician and Punic Sources

Cherchell 1 177, 181 KAI

CIS I, 165 (12) 176 14,7 179
37 A 6.11 176
Guelma N 35 177
Umm El-Awamid No. 9,20 176
Hr Guergour N 9 177

Persian Texts

Avesta 184, 191 Sad da-e Nasr 34 184n7

Pahlavi books 184, 187n12 Vendidad 187n12, 190

Hebrew Bible

Genesis 43:32 141

1:1–2:4a 485 43:31–33 275
1:20 388, 392 47:18 388
1:21 388, 392 50:25 387
1:24 388, 392
1:30 388, 392 Exodus
2:7 390 3:21–22 278
2:19 392 4:6 386
3 327, 371 11:1–2 278
3:1–24 485 12:14 397
4:1 485 12:15 397
6:1–4 478 12:17 397
9:5 392 12:19 398
9:6 393 12:30 387, 398
9:5–6 405 12:33 398
9:10 388, 392 12:35 278
9:12 388, 392 12:38 398
9:15 392 12:48 397, 466
9:16 392 13:19 387
15:11 387 18 447
17:12 331 20:22–26 436
23:4 387 21:34–36 387
23:6 387 22:12 388
23:8 387 22:30 388
31:39 388 25:8 383
580 index of sources

Exodus (continued ) 5:1–6 348

25:9 335 5:2 313, 338, 387
25:23–30 439 5:2–3 348
26–27 336 5:14–16 332
26:31f 176 5:14–19 465
27:21 397 6:2 313
28–29 360 6:2–6 281
28:35 402 6:7 313
28:43 402 6:9–11 335
28:39–43 443 6:11 397
29:9 398 6:18 313
29:36 376 6:19–23 335
29:45 383 7:1 313
29:46 405 7:11 313
29:45–46 335 7:19 397
30:10 375 7:20 398
30:20 402 7:20–21 324, 335
30:21 397 7:21 397, 398
31:14 398 7:24 387, 388
34:15–16 469 7:25 398
35–40 315f 7:27 398
39:39–43 443 7:36 397
40 316 7:37 313
40:17 316 8 336
40:34–35 314, 335 8–10 314
8:15 376
Leviticus 115, 400, 401, 9–12 336
405, 408 10 400
1 176, 316 10:1–7 441
1–7 313f, 316 10:1–8 400
1–16 315 10:2 402
1:1 281 10:3 400
1:1–2a 314 10:6 402, 445
1:5 438 10:7 402
1:11 438 10:9 397
2:11 281 10:9–10 447
3 335 10:10 313, 320, 353,
3:2 438 357, 403
3:8 438 10:10–11 468
3:13 438 11 313, 322, 328,
3:17 397 336–338, 341, 344,
4 322, 345f, 349, 355, 357,
348–350, 354 384, 392, 400,
4:2 346 403, 406
4:4 438 11–15 313, 326f, 348,
4:3–12 346f 357, 377, 387
4:13–21 346f, 358 11–16 313, 540
4:15 438 11–20 338
4:22–26 346–348 11–26 407
4:24 438 11:1 357
4:27–35 346–348 11:1–2a 356
4:29 438 11:2–23 313
4:33 438 11:2b–23 337
5 373 11:4–8 336
 index of sources 581

Leviticus (continued ) 13–14 324, 326, 331, 356,

11:8 313, 344, 387, 392 384, 386, 406
11:9–12 337 13:1 357
11:10 388, 392 13:2–8 324
11:11 387 13:2–44 329
11:13–20 336 13:2–46 319, 324f, 332
11:20–23 337 13:9–17 324
11:24 387 13:18–23 324
11:24–25 387, 392 13:24–28 324
11:24–28 313, 337, 344 13:29–37 324
11:24–38 338 13:38–39 324
11:24–42 338 13:40–44 324
11:24b–25 338 13:44 386
11:25 387, 392 13:45 386
11:27 387 13:45–46 325f, 328, 332,
11:27b–28 338 352
11:27–28 392 13:46 386
11:28 387, 392 13:47–59 319, 325, 329,
11:29–38 337f 332
11:31 392 13:52 325
11:32–40 552 13:55 325
11:35 387 13:57 325
11:36 387, 542 13:59 313
11:37 387 14 386
11:38 387 14:1 357
11:39 387 14:1–32 325
11:39–40 313, 336–338, 392 14:2 332, 386
11:39b 338 14:3 325, 386
11:40 338, 387, 392 14:4–9 530n46
11:41–45 337 14:10 325
11:43 337 14:10–20 530n46
11:43–45 403 14:12–18 332
11:44 337, 385 14:21–32 325
11:44a 540 14:23–29 332
11:44–45 320, 326, 328, 14:33 357
337, 383, 403 14:33–53 319, 325, 329,
11:46 392 332
11:46–47 313 14:40–41 325
11:47 357 14:40–42 332
12 322–324, 326, 14:43–45 325
328–332, 349 14:49 376
12–15 321f, 324–331, 14:52 376
334–339, 341, 14:54–57 313, 325
344–346, 349 15 322–324, 326,
12:1 357 329f, 386, 406
12:1–2a 356 15:1 357
12:1–7 483, 484 15:1–2a 356, 402
12:2b 323, 331 15:2–15 322, 329f, 333,
12:3 331 349
12:4b 335 15:2–17 322
12:5a 323 15:4–5 322
12:7 313, 523n24 15:5 322
12:6–7 324 15:6 322
12:8 324 15:7 322
582 index of sources

Leviticus (continued) 17:4 398

15:8 322 17:7 397
15:9 322 17:8–9 420
15:10a 322 17:9 398
15:10b 322 17:10 398
15:11 322, 333 17:11 390
15:12 322 17:14 398
15:13 387 17:15 387, 388, 420
15:13–15 322, 330 17:15–16 336
15:14–15 387 18 339f, 342,
15:16–17 322, 329f, 355, 494
333, 357 18–20 341, 338
15:16–18 494 18:2–5 337, 339, 342,
15:18 323, 329, 333 350
15:19b 331 18:6–16 342
15:19–24 322–324, 18:6–18 339
329, 331, 333, 18:6–23 340
494, 509 18:17 342
15:19–30 322 18:17–18 342
15:21–22 323 18:18 342
15:24 521 18:19 339, 520, 521
15:25–30 322, 329, 331, 18:19–20 342
334, 349 18:19–23 339, 342
15:28 387 18:20 339
15:28–30 323 18:21 339f
15:30 402 18:22 339, 343
15:29–30 387 18:23 339
15:31 321, 335f, 341, 18:24–30 339f, 342,
345, 349f, 402, 350, 355
403, 404, 465 18:24–27 464
15:31b 345 18:26 343
15:32–33 313, 329, 401 18:27 343
16 344–349, 354, 18:29 343, 398
358, 494 18:30 343
16:1–34 495n2 19 353
16:2 402 19:2 320, 341, 353,
16:3–10 347 493
16:4 443 19:4 494
16:11–19 347, 350, 358 19:8 398
16:12–13 344 19:12 385
16:13 402 19:13 393
16:14–15 344 19:19 443f
16:16 343–345, 348, 19:28 388
403, 530n45 19:30 320, 341, 353f
16:16a 345, 347 20 339f, 342,
16:20b–22 347 349, 355
16:21a 347 20:1–5 494
16:24 347 20:2 349
16:29 344, 398 20:3 345, 398
17 436 20:3b 343
17–26 314f, 320, 341, 20:4–5 349
447, 508 20:5 398
17–27 313, 315 20:6 398
17:3–4 438 20:7–8 320, 341
 index of sources 583

Leviticus (continued) 23:21 397

20:9–16 349 23:26–32 344
20:10–21 340 23:29 398
20:10–26 494 23:31 397
20:13 343 23:41 397
20:17 398 24:3 397
20:18 349, 398, 24:17 392
523n24 25 353
20:22 340 25:29–31 319
20:22–24a 340 25:32–34 319
20:22–26 320, 340, 342, 26 343, 350
350, 355f 26:2 320, 341, 353f
20:23–24a 340 26:3–45 354
20:24b 341 26:11 402
20:24b–26 340f 26:30 387
20:25 355 26:34–35 343
20:25–26 326, 328, 337f, 26:46 316
403 27 316
20:25b 341 27:11 397
20:26 341, 385, 540 27:34 316
20:26a 341 31:35 392
21 448 31:40 392
21:1 388, 400 31:46 392
21:1–4 392, 397, 399,
407 Numbers 400
21:1–15 329, 336 1 316
21:1b–4 336 1–4 377, 378, 380,
21:2–4 388 383
21:5 445 1–10 316
21:6 336, 447 1:1 316
21:7 388, 470 1:36–45 385
21:7–8 447 1:51 402
21:9 397 3:4 402
21:10 445 4:18 398
21:11 336, 388, 389, 5 407
397, 400 5:1–3 369
21:14 473 5:1–4 369, 376, 380,
21:15 397 381–385, 406,
21:14–15 471 415
21:13–15 388, 446, 470 5,1–10,10 380
21:17–20 503 5:2 388, 395, 398,
21:23 493 399
22:2 335, 402 5:2–4 329
22:3 398 5:3 LXX 383
22:4 386, 388, 400 5:6 372
22:4–6 397 5:7 372
22:4–7 398 5:11–31 369
22:4–8 335 6 373, 407
22:8 336, 387, 388 6:1–21 369
22:9 397 6:6 389
22:31–33 320, 341 6:6–12 396
23 320 6:7 373, 396
23–25 314, 353 6:8 396
23:14 397 6:9 373, 396
584 index of sources

Numbers (continued) 18:9–10 459

6:11 373, 374, 388 18:9–14 370
6:12 373 18:22 402
6:14 373 18:23 397
6:16 373 18:32 370
7 372 19 370, 378,
8 369, 374, 377 391–400, 406,
8:5–7 374 407, 494
8:7 374 19:9 374
8:8 374 19:10 398
8:12 373, 374 19:11 387, 388, 392
8:21 375, 376 19:11–22 329, 448
9 399, 407 19:12 374, 376
9:1–5 397 19:12–13 376
9:1–14 369 19:13 374, 376, 387,
9:3b 377 388, 392
9:6 388 19:14 373
9:6–10 400 19:14–16 392
9:6–12 397 19:16 393
9:7 388 19:17–19 373
9:10 388 19:18 387
9:10–12 397 19:19 376
9:11 388 19:20 374, 376
9:13 392, 397, 398 19:21 374, 398
9:14 397 20–25 378
10 378 20:13 400
10:8 397, 398 21 379
10:11–28 378 21:11 396
11–14 378 25 361, 441
11–15 401 25:5–15 370
12:9 332 28–29 372, 375
12:10 386 28:15 372
12:10–15 325, 386 28:22 373, 375
12:11 372 29:5 373, 375
12:12 328 29:11 373, 375
12:12–15 370 30:3 370, 397
14:21 387 31:12 378
14:32 387 31:12–24 370
14:33 387 31:13 399
15:15 397 31:19 329, 376, 396
15–17:6 370 31:19–24 394, 400
15:22–31 375 31:20 376
15:24–25 373 31:22–24 552
15:27 373 31:23 374, 376
15:27–28 373 31:24 396
15:30 398 32 379, 400
15:30–31 345 32:23 372
15:31 398 34 379
16–17 378, 400 34:1–12 450
16–18 361 35 404
16,26 372 35:29 397
17:13 387 35:33–34 370, 377, 378,
17:16–26 361 404, 405, 417,
17:28 402 494
18 400 35:34 384, 404, 405
 index of sources 585

Deuteronomy 19:29 387

1:13–18 448 20:6 396
6:1–3 318
6:4–9 318 1 Samuel
7:3 469 2:2 540
12 436 20:26 329
12:15 413 31:10 388
12:16 414 31:12 388
12:22 413 31:13 387
12:23 391
13 425 2 Samuel
14 313, 336 1:10 360
14:1 387, 388 3:29 325
14:3 418 14:2 387
14:3–20 313 21:12 387
14:7–8 416 21:13 387
14:21 419 21:14 387
14:22–23 427
15:22 413 1 Kings
17:8–13 447 1:39 360
19:17 447 5:19–24 175
21:1–9 448, 417 6–8 176
21:5 448 7:13–14 175
21:22–23 422 7:40 175
21:23 387 7:45 175
22:1–12 420 8:65–66 450
22:8 421 11:1–13 469
22:9–11 444 13:2 387
22:11 443 13:22 387
22:13–21 447 13:24 387
23:2–9 440 13:25 387
23:4–9 467n38 13:28 387
23:10–15 385 13:29 387
23:11–12 387, 415 13:30 387
23:11–14 385 13:31 387
24:1–4 421
24:8 313, 356 2 Kings
25:7 447 5:27 332
26:14 387, 416 7:3–10 325
28:26 387 8:5 387
31:9–13 317 9:1 360
32:3–4 495n5 9:3 360
9:12 360
Joshua 9:37 387, 394
8:29 387 11:4–8 438
8:31–35 317 11:12 360
9:1–2 LXX 317 13:21 387, 396
9:21–27 438 15:5 325
22:19 405 19:35 387
24:32 387 23:6b 394
23:14 387, 395, 396
Judges 23:16 387, 395, 396
6:25 282 23:18 387
14:8 388 23:20 387, 395,
14:8–9 388 396
586 index of sources

2 Kings (continued ) 37:1 387

23:30 360 37:2 396
25:22–23 359 37:3 387
37:4 387
Isaiah 37:5 387
5:25 387 37:7 387
6:3 540 37:11 387
14:19 387 37:26 361
26:19 387 39:15 394
30:22 325 39:20 439
37:36 387 40 431
40:3 508 40–42 434f
59:3 459 40:5 434
60–62 359 40:38–43 439
60:7 359 41 432f
60:13 359 41:8 434
63:3 459 41:21–22 439
42:1–12 433
Jeremiah 42:13–14 433
2:7 417 42:20 431f, 434, 435
7:33 387 43:7 405
8:1 387 43:7–9 396, 434
9:21 387, 394 43:13–46:24 431, 435–436
16:4 387 44:1–3 436
19:7 387 44:1–27 449
26:23 387 44:4–6a 436f
31:40 396 44:4–16 436–442
34:20 387 44:4–46:18 435, 440
36:30 387, 394 44:6–9 447
40:7–10 359 44:6–11 437f
41:9 387 44:16 448
44:17–27 442–449
Ezekiel 429, 471 44:17–31 449
1:11 388 44:19 445
1:23 388 44:20 445
2:7–8 437 44:21 447
4:14 388 44:22 388, 446
6:5 387 44:23 313, 356
7:19–20 325 44:23–25 396
7:19–29 526n32 44:24a 448
8–11 452 44:24 448
9:7 396 44:25 387
11:19 529n43 44:25–27 448f
11:23 438 44:28–31 439
18:31 529n43 44:31 336, 387, 388
21:31 360 45:8 438
22 343 45:1–8 449
22:26 313, 356 46:1–12 439
27:13 392 46:19–20 433
33:8 402 46:19–24 431, 436
33:9 402 46:21–24 431f
34:23–24 361 47–48 449–451
36:17 526n32, 325 47:1 438
36:25 529n43 47:9 392
 index of sources 587

Ezekiel (continued) 15:14–16 529n42

47:13–48:29 435 20:11 387
25:4 525n30
Amos 2:1 387 33:20 387

Nahum Ecclesiastes (Qoheleth) 4:2 387

2:13 388 (et al.)
3:3 387, 388
Lamentations
Zephania 3:4 313, 356 1:17 526n32
3:6 387
Haggai 4:14 459
2:11 313, 356
2:12 445 Daniel 1:8 459
2:13 388
Ezra 405
Zechariah 1–6 359, 461
1–8 359f 2 459, 470
3 360 2:1–70 459
3:7 360 2:43–58 438
6:9–15 360 2:61–63 462
13:1 526n32 2:62 460471
2:70 175
Malachi 3:7 175
1:7 439, 460 6:21 355, 463,
1:12 460 466
2:1–9 470 6:19–22 459, 461f,
3:6–12 360 466
7 363
Psalms 7:12–26 362
16:10 390 7:26 362
19:10 181 8:24 461, 465
30:4 390 9 463–465
31:13 387 9–10 459, 469
49:16 390 9:1 462
51:4 529n42 9:6–15 464
51:7 525n30 9:11 472
73:1 181 9:12 377
79:2 387 9:14 463
88:6 387
89:40 360 Nehemiah 405
99:9 495n2 3:7 359
104:29 390 6:18 470
110:6 388 7 459, 470
141:7 387 7:6–72 459
7:64 471
Job 8 316f, 362f
4:17–19 529n42 9:37 388
11:20 390 11:1 467
12:10 390 11:18 467
14:1 525n30 12 459
14:3 529n42 12:30 467
14:22 390 12:27–43 467
15:14 525n30 12:45 467f
588 index of sources

Nehemiah (continued) 6:35–38 440

12:47 176 10:12 387, 388
13 457, 467–472 16:42 176
13:1–3 317 26:12 176
13:4–9 362, 473
13:10–14 360 2 Chronicles
13:26 469 3:14 176
13:28–30 473 17 463
13:29 460 19:8–11 447
13:30–31 440 23:19 176
26:16–21 325
1 Chronicles 26:18ff. 332
5:21 392 30 462
5:27–41 440 32:13 463
34:5 387

Old Testament Apocrypha

Tobit 1:17 394 2 Maccabees

6:1–11 502
Ecclesiasticus (Ben Sira, 441 6:18–31 487–489
Sirach) 25:23–25 7:1–42 487, 488
8:1–4 488
1 Maccabees 10:5–9 489
1:41–54 280
1:62–63 487

Old Testament Pseudepigrapha

1 Enoch 12:4 480, 481

6–16 478–483 15:3 482
7:1 479, 481 15:3–4 480
7:4–6 479
8:1 479 Jubilees
8:3 479 2:14 485
9:8–9 480, 481 3:8 484
10:4–8 480 3:8–14 483–487
10:9–13 480, 481 3:10–11 484
10:16–11:2 480 3:13 484
12–16 480–482

Qumran Texts

1QHabPesher 510n51 3:3b–9a 498, 499

1QS 496n7, 497, 3:4b–9a 509
498, 499, 500, 3:6 509
503, 507, 3:6–9 509, 529n43
510n51, 512 3:13–4:26 522, 525n28,
1:7.11 529n40 526, 527n35, 530
2:2.5 529n40 4:2–8 526
2:25–3:3 524, 530n49 4:2 530n49
3:3–12 523, 524, 528, 4:9–11 526
530 4:10 526
 index of sources 589

1QS (continued ) 4Q251 510n51

4:10–11 509 1–2 6 511n54
4:20 526n33 17 2–3 511n55
4:20b–22a 498 17 7 511n55
4:21 509 4Q256
4:24–25 526f ix 2–3 530n44
5:1–2 527 ix 7–8 530n44
5:2 530n44 4Q258
5:9–10 530n44 i 5–8 527f,
5:13 499, 531 530n44
5:13–14 526n35, 528, i 10–11 528n37
530n44 4Q265 510n51,
5:13b–14a 498 513n60
6:16–17 499 73 511n54
6:22 499 7 11–17 511n55,
6:25 499 513n60
7:3 499 4Q266 513n60
7:16 499 6 i 1–2 521n10
7:17–18 509 6 ii 1–2 521n11
7:19 499 6 ii 5–12 511n55
7:25 499 6 ii 10b–11 513n60
8:5 501 11 9–14 533n57
8:6 501 4Q269
8:12–16 508 8 ii 3b–6 496n7,
8:14 503 511n54,
8:16–18 509 511n55,
8:16–19 528n38 512n58
8:17 499 8 ii 4b–6 511n55,
8:24 499 511n56
9:3–6 500 8 ii 6 496n7,
9:3–9 504 511n54
11:9–15 525–26, 4Q272 1 ii 3b–7a 511n54
530n48 4Q273 5 4–5 521n9
11:21 525n30 4Q274 512
1QSa 510n51 1–4 509
1QSb 510n51 1 i 0–2 511n54
1QM (War Scroll) 512 1i5 511n55
9:7–9a 393 1 i 8b–9 511n54
7:6 523n24 2 ii 2–3a 511n54
7:6b–7 511n55 4Q274–278 510n51
13:5 530n48 4Q277 512
1QH 510n51, 512 1 ii 2 511n54
1QHa 1 ii 5b–7a 511n55,
4 [17]:19 530n48 511n56
9 [1]:21–26 530n48 1 ii 7 511n54
9 [1]:21–24 523, 524, 1 ii 7b–10a 511n54
525n29, 533n60 1 ii 10b–13 511n55
9 [1]:22 526n33 4Q284 510n51
9 [1]:31–33 526n31 1 3–6 534n62
19 [11]:10–14 526n31 3 3–5 532
19 [11]:11 530n48 72 526n31
20 [12]:25 523n24 4QMMT 503, 507,
4Q159 510n51 508, 510n51
4Q174 1–2 1 6 500 C 6–9 520
4Q249 510n51 C7 503
590 index of sources

4Q394 45:11–12 505, 507,

3–7 i 16–19 496n7, 511n54 511n54
3–7 i 17–19a 511n55, 45:12–13 503
511n56 45:15–17a 511n55
8 iii 9b–19a 511n55 45:17 507
4Q396 1–2 iv 4–11a 511n55 46:13–16a 511n55
4Q414 510n51, 512 46:16b–18 505n40,
2 ii 511n54 511n54
2 ii 3, 4 7–8 532–33 48:14–17a 511n54
3 511n54 49:5–21a 511n54
32 511n54 49:9–10 511n54
7 8–9 533 49:16a-20 511n55,
13 5 511n54 512n58
4Q472a 510n51 49:16b–21 511n54
4Q512 512 49:20–21 496n7,
1–6 xii 5–6 511n54 511n54
9 3–4 533 50:4b–9 511n54
10 x 1–2 511n55 50:4–7 391, 393
11 x 2–5 511n55 50:10–16a 511n54
28 4 534n63 50:20–51:5a 511n54
29–32 8–9 533 57:15b–17a 511n55
29–32 vii 8–9 509 63:10–15 511n55
29–32 9 526n31, 534n63 66:16–17 511n55
34 3 534n63
4Q512–514 510n51 CD (DD, Damascus 510n51
4Q513 2 ii 2–5 511n55 Document)
4Q514 4 7 523n24 5:6–7 521
4Q543 1 5–6 1–7 511n55 5:6b–15a 500
11Q18 frg. 30 439 5:7–11 511n55
11Q19 (Temple Scroll) 400, 503, 6:11–17 521n13
505n40, 6:15 528n37
507f, 510n51, 512 12:1–2 507, 511n54
col. 22:4 439 12:15b–17a 511n54
3–13:8 512 12:17b–18 511n54
30:3–47:18 512 19:15–21 511n55
45:7–12 507 20:22b–24 500

New Testament

Matthew 1 Corinthians 15:36–38 230

23:27 394
27:51 176 1 Timothy 60–61 220

John 2 550 Revelation 3:7–13 221

 index of sources 591

Rabbinic Literature

ʿAbodah Zarah 3,4 179 3:1–2 496n7

b. Sanhedrin 22b 445 3:7 496n7
b. Yoma 71b 440 5:5 552
m. ‘Ohal 5:5 552 m. Sheqalim
m. Kelim 1:1 394
1:8 438 1:46 394
6:2 552 m. Shevu’ot 1:4–5 373
10:1 552 m. Yad 1:2 552
m. Megillah 3:5 317 m. Zevahim 3:1 438
m. Parah Midrash Sifre Zuta 393
3 552 t. Sabb. 16:11 552

Greek and Latin Sources

Aelian, Varia historia VIII 3 233 De Dea Syria 8 180

Aeschines, In Timarchum 3.77 291 Decree of Canopus 144
Aeschylus, Prometheus vinctus 209 Diogenes Laertius
941–1093 (Life of Pythagoras)
Antiphanes, Rich Men fr. 34, 5–6 267 VIII 17 283
Appian, Bella civlia 1.15 299 VIII 19 263
Appian, Punica (Λιβυκή) 66 298 VIII 22 264
Aristophanes, Acharnenses 44 295 VIII 33 262, 265
Aristophanes, Ecclesiazusae 128 295 VIII 39 276
Aristophanes, Plutus 820 293 Dionysius of Halicarnassus,
Aristophanes, Ranae Antiquitates romanae
1032 262 3.61.2–3 298
327,335 230 3.61–62 298
334,385 230 6.17.3 300
355 230 9.71.4 298
404–12 230
Athenaeus Eighth Book of Moses 152
7, 325 A 268 Eleusis, Inscription from 121
IX 78, 409f–410b 233 Epigraph from Korope 258
54f 267 Euripides, Cretans 472 269
Augustine, De civitate Dei VI 11 282 Euripides, Electra 791–4 291
Euripides, Hippolytus 952 262
Bacchylides, Epinika xiii 139 212 Eusebius, Praeparatio 280
evangelica IX 2
Cato, De agricultura 293 Eustathius of Thessalonica, 209
(De re rustica) 141 Ad Odysseum 22.481,
Cicero, In Catilinam 3.23 301 p. 1935.5
Cicero, Orationes philippicae 301
14.37 Festus, p. 500 L 299
Clement of Alexandria,
Stromateis (Aulus) Gellius, Noctes 264
I 15.72.5 281 Atticae 4, 11 1–13
IV 22.142.3 231 (Gnaeus) Gellius
V 1.13.3 230 4.6.6 293
10.15.4–5 297
592 index of sources

(Gnaeus) Gellius (continued ) IKios 16 226

10.15.9–12 297 ILLRP 3 233
15.19 297 ISmyrna 728 228
15.24 297 Istros (Fragmente der 295
GHI 494–505 254 griechischen Historiker) 334
Graeco-Egyptian magical 151 F 16
papyri IvMagn 215 227
GSL
4 224 Jerome, Adversus Jovinianum 262
8 223 libri II 2, 14
John the Lydian, De mensibus 276
Hecataeus of Abdera, Apud 361 IV 42
Diodorus Siculus XL, 3,5 Josephus, Antiquitates Iudaicae
Herodotus 249, 250 3.224–225 281
36 274 3.262 541
37 141, 261, 4.208 443
274, 276 13.171–73 496n9
41 141f, 274 18.18–22 496n9
47 275 227 438
81 261 Josephus, Bellum Iudaicum
104 273 2.119–61 496n9
171.2–3 225 5 494
Hesiod, Opera et dies 161–63 215 Josephus, Contra Apionem 1.179 281
Hesiod, Catalogue of Women 204 Justin 36, 2 278
Hippocrates, De victu 2.46 268 Juvenal
Homer, Ilias IV 8, V, 908 205 10.39 298
Homer, Odyssea 10.43 298
4.759–761 291
V 123, XVIII 202, XX 71 219 LIMC V (1994) Hermes 168 198
VI 102–9, 151–52 291 Livius
XXII 481–82, 493–94 234 2.37.9 299
Homeric Hymns, Dem. 355; 231 3.7.7 301
Aphr. 58 4.54.7 297
Horace, Carmina 5.41.2 299
151. 25–26 206 5.52.14 293
I5 224 8.33.20 301
Horace, Epodi 9.21 298 10.23.2 301
Hyginus, Fabulae 10.7.9–10 298
185.6 220 21.62.9 301
274.10–13 199–200 22.10.8 301
24.10.13 301
Iamblichus, De vita 276 25.12.15 302
Pythagorica 191 25.3.14 299
IEph 2 219 26.9.8 301
ICr I xxiii 3 232 27.4.15 301
lines 3–4 221 27.51.9 302
IG 30.15.11–12 298
II2 1177 255 30.21.10 301
II2 659 253 31.50.7 297
IV 1² 47–48, 615 232 31.8.2 301
IX 2,1109 256 32.1.14 301
V, 514 257 33.25.7 299
XII 1, 677 255 34.1.4 299
XII 3 p. 30 232 34.53.2 299
 index of sources 593

Livius (continued ) 115 B 50–59 200,

34.55.4 301 235
36.37.5 301 Lysander 206e–207a 293
40.37.3 301
40.4 301 Macrobius, Saturnalia
43.13.8 301 1.16.9 297
43.16.9 299 1.16.9–10 293
45.2.6–12 301 3.10.7 293
45.36.1 299 Marinus, Vita Procli 19 265
LSAM Megalopolis, Inscription from 121
6 226 Menander, Epitrepontes 440 199
12 210
16 lines 30–33 225 Orphic documents, fr. 32 b iv 221
18, lines 9–15 220 (Kern, Orphicorum fragmenta)
20 (=TAM V 3, 1539) 221 Ovid, Fasti IV 771–72, Col. VII 3.11 223
29, lines 4–7 220 Ovid, Metamorphoses X 686–704 220
51 219
68 lines 2–3 215 P. Washington University 123
84 228 (P. Oslo 2 vs)
LSCG Pausanias
36 255 2.38.2–3 209
39 253 4.1.5–9, 2.6,3.10 217
56 233 4.33.4–6 217
56, lines 5, 8, 11 200 8.22.2 208
59 line 21 215 9.3.1–2 220
65 216 I 24.4, 28.10 233
68 223, II 15.1 234
257 VIII 42.1–7 223
68, lines 11, 15–16 222 VIII 53.1–3 235
83–84 256 VIII 8.1–2 223
97 A 25–26, 29–30 200 α 150 209
115 B 1–23 218 δ 18 209
124 213 Philo, Quod omnis probus 496n10
124 213 liber sit 75–91
130 231 Pindar, Dithyramb 2.8–14 220
136 255 Plato, Hipparchus 229a 231
151 A 46, B 12 211 Plato, Leges
LSS VI 782c 262
31 235 XII 950 A 270
32 225 Plato, Respublica
33 225 328c 293
59 210 372a–373d 266
60 215 403–405 267
65 234 Pliny the Elder, Naturalis historia
82 231 5.17, 4 [73] 496n11
91 210 15.137 298
108 231 18.119 297
112 236 28.146 297
115 200, 213 33.11 298
115 A 11–20, 32–79, B 40–59 213 Plutarch, Aemilius Paullus 34 298
115 A 16–17, 19, tris 200n16 Plutarch, Alcibiades 34.1–2 289
115 A 40, 41 200n16 Plutarch, De E apud Delphus 212
115 B 3, 5, 7, 21 200n16 20, 393 C
115 B 26 200n16
594 index of sources

Plutarch, De Esu Carnium 2, 273 Servius, Commentarius in 294

996 E Vergilii eclogas 3.77
Plutarch, De Iside et Osiride Suetonius, Divus Augustus
6, 353 C 271 43.5 299
6, 353 D 271 94.6 299
26, 361 B 263 Suetonius, Vespasianus 5.7 299
Plutarch, Lycurgus 27, 6–9 270 Syll.3
Plutarch, Quaestiones romanae 338 255
et graecae 375 253
44 297 999 257
109–111 297 1157 256
113 297
Plutarch, Quaestiones 281 Tacitus, Annales 14.12 301
convivales IV 6, 2 Tacitus, Historiae 5, 4–5 279
Plutarch, Septem sapientium Tertullian, De spectaculis 7.2 299
convivium Theophrastus, On Piety 230
16, 159 B 273 (= fr. 9 Pötscher)
16, 159 C 262 Theophrastus, Characteres 16 264
Polybius 6.53 298 ThesCRA II (2004) 33–35 198
Porphyry, De abstinentia 262 Thucydides
II 2 265 I 5.3–6.3 215
II 19.5 230 1.134.2 291
II 26 280 Thucydides, History of the 250–253
II 53 265 Peloponnesian war
IV 3 269 Tibullus 2.1 294
IV 5 270
IV 6–8 127, 270 Valerius Maximus
IV 10, 3–5 273 1.1.16 299
IV 19 269 4.4.5 299
IV 20 269 Varro, De lingua latina 6.30 293
Porphyry, Vita Pythagorae Virgil, Eclogae 5.74–75 294
34 263
43–44 263 Xenocrates fr. 100 263
44 265, 276 Xenophon, Anabasis
7.1.40 293
SEG VII 8,4 281
IX 72, A 26–31 254 VII 8,5 281
XXXII 218, lines 43, 84, 131 219 Xenophon, Cyropaedia VIII 3,24 281
L 1352 231 Xenophon, Hellenica
Servius, Commentarius in 1.4.12 289
Vergilii Aeneida 5.3.19 291
1.179 297 Xenophon, Memorabilia 3,14 267
2.104 293
4.262 297 Zosimos VVIII, 1–2 180
 INDEX OF SUBJECTS AND TERMS

Subjects

Aaron 357, 440, 447 Benben-house 138

abortion 195, 200n16, 211, 214, 229, 235 birth 189, 195f, 206, 212–214, 216, 219, 223,
access (to sanctuary/temple) 37, 118–122, 235, 237, 247, 250, 323f, 331, 385, 524
135f, 140, 143f, 150, 296, 437, 439f birth-house (childbed arbor) 143
Acco 179 blood 12, 85, 277, 344, 346, 375, 386, 391,
Adam and Eve 483, 485f 459f, 481–484
Afqa 179 bloodguilt 404
Ahura Mazda 186 Bodashtart 179
Alektrona 255, 257 bone 131, 185, 387n95, 394, 553
Alexander the Great 245 Bostan esh-Sheikh 179f
altar 280, 346, 436, 439 Bostrenus 179
amulet 129, 133, 146 boundary 8, 41, 291f, 294
angel 478–483 Busiris 139
Angra Mainyu 186 Buto 134
animal 121, 271, 336
antagonism 138 carcass 253, 269, 338, 344, 372, 387, 392
Antiochus Epiphanes 502 cattle (also calf, cow) 130, 133, 141
Aphrodite 179 Chemmis 133
Apis 134 Chios 249
Apollo 212–218, 225–226, 255f circumcision 136, 141, 331
A. at Andania 217 Cisjordan 379
A. at Chryse 213 cleaning 48, 56f, 62, 75, 77, 81f, 160, 275,
A. of Delphi 252 372, 374, 386, 392, 448, 543, 554
A. of Milet 245 cleansing see purifying
A. on the island of Delos 212–213, 250 clothes 117, 123, 189, 219n91, 222, 224, 225,
Apopis 137 229, 249, 257, 261, 443f
Apsû 69–70, 72, 77 coiffure 127, 195, 197n5, 222, 120, 144, 445
Artemis 218–219 communication 293, 299f, 302
Asclepius 229–232 consecration of statues 117
Asclepius Fluvius 179 contamination 81, 85, 89f, 371
Astarte 179 Coptos 130, 134
Athena 210–211, 225n117, 246, 249, 251f corpse 184, 187, 190, 250f, 253, 329, 373f,
A. Chalkioikos 251 378, 387f, 405f, 448
A. Poliuchos 249 covenant 470, 473
Athens 246, 249, 252f cult 15, 166, 263, 376f, 386, 395, 408, 439,
atonement 255, 344, 377, 469, 498, 448, 458, 461, 466, 525, 533
523–525, 533 Cult of the Donkey 279
Atum 130, 134 cultic law 435f
axis mundi 500, 508 cultural context 12
curse 57, 100, 138
Baal Peor 441 curtain 175f
baboon 126f Cyrene 245, 255
Bambula 180
baptism 497 Danaus and Cadmus 277
Belial 521, 529 Day of Atonement 344f, 375, 443, 494n2,
believer 180, 184, 186, 192f, 290 530
596 index of subjects and terms

death 195f, 200, 211–214, 216, 219, 220, 223, fish 136, 267f, 271
229, 237, 246f, 250, 326–329, 373, 376, food 69, 84, 89f, 96, 139, 196, 384, 399,
381, 388–391, 394f, 402, 523, 532 459f, 528
Deir el-Medineh 140 f. offering 117, 125, 127, 137, 149
Delos 544 f. regulations 121, 123, 127, 140, 142,
Delphi 250 144f, 151, 276, 313, 487, 488
demarcation see separation foreigner 41, 141, 270, 275, 277, 438, 449,
Demeter 207, 224–226, 253, 255, 257 461f, 466, 471, 473f
Despoina 257 fornication 521, 530
diet see food fumigation 118, 139
Dilmun 60–63, 65, 67, 73 funeral (also burial) 145, 184f, 273
Dionysus 207, 227–229, 249
discharge 385f, 397, 399, 402, 406, 523, gatekeepers (of temple) 176
531–533 gaze 188
disease 120, 139, 331f, 324–326, 385f, 397, Geb 130
399, 406 genitals 322, 329, 330
divine 48–49, 54, 56–57, 65f, 72–74, 76, God 374, 377, 396, 402, 526f, 532f, 533n57,
78, 80–82, 84f, 91–93, 99, 105–107 540
divine judgement 480 Great Goddesses 222–223
diviner 80f, 91, 92, 95f
divine vacuum 291, 303 Haburah 495
divine world 80 Halakha 477, 482, 487, 539, 540, 553
Djed-pillar 129, 131 Hand of the Gemini 95
dominion (hieroglyph) 135 Hasmoneans 487, 504, 543
doorkeepers 121, 125f Hathor 149
dromos 120 Hecate 268
dualism 523, 525f, 528, 530 Hedjhotep 138
Dun-Awi 130f, 134 Heliopolis 133, 136, 148
Helios 268
ecstatic 214, 221 Hellenistic crater (calyx) 550
Egypt 272f, 277–283 Hellenistic Imperial Cult 482
Eleazar 440 Hellenization 39f
Elephantine 130, 134 hemerology 86f
Enki 66–68 Hera 208f, 252
Enoch 480 Heracleopolis 148
errant demons 129, 139 herdsmen 120, 141
eschatology 527, 529 Hermes 209f
Eshmun 179 Herodotus 248–250
Essenes 496, 496n13, 503 hierarchy 38, 358
ethnicity, ethnic 342, 355 high priest 345, 360–362441, 445f, 468,
eunuch 214, 221 471
excarnation 184f Hittite 159f, 161, 166
exchange 7, 13, 40f holiness 15, 320, 377, 380, 383, 396, 465
exclusion 460f, 467, 471, 473 area of h. 434, 437, 440, 449, 451
excrement 135, 187 concept of h. 430, 465
exorcist 47, 52, 57f, 68, 77, 79, 82, 92–97, graded h. 441
101–103 h. of community 385
expulsion 277, 352 h. of god 326f, 337, 403, 447, 460, 525,
Eye of Horus 130–131 526, 540
Ezra (person) 462 h. of humans 335, 405f, 447, 449, 452,
462f, 527f
feast 123, 397 h. of Israel 341
festival calendar 211–212, 216–218, h. of sacred space 385
222–223, 225–228, 235, 238, 372, 375 system of h. 449, 451
 index of subjects and terms 597

transmission of h. 445 Judas Maccabaeus 502

holiness code 401, 405f, 447, 520, 530 Judea 273, 277–283
Holy Spirit 524, 527, 529–531 judgment 126
Horus 125–127, 129–135, 137, 147f
human 37, 186 Ka 146–147
human being 523, 525 Kamid el-Loz 179
moral subject 524, 527, 534 Kerkyra 252
Hurrian sources 162 king 119, 125, 128–138, 360f
hygiene 48, 75 king’s offering 117f, 131
Kition 176, 180f
Ialysos 256, 257 Kizzuwatna 163
Ibis 135, 151 knowledge 147, 150
identity 282, 389, 457, 465f, 468, 472f, 537 Korope 256
ideology 318, 351, 464 Kylon 251
idolatry 530
impurity 13–18, 246, 344, 353, 371, 377, Lagaš 65f
540, 550 laity 35, 414, 439, 449, 505f, 545
concept of i. 254f, 257, 311, 326, 362, law 314, 339, 406f, 449, 524, 528, 533
384, 465, 471 Letopolis 134
constitutional i. 519, 522, 524–530, 534f Levites 374f, 377f, 381, 437–439, 448, 461,
genealogical i. 248, 377, 471f, 525 467, 525
i. of peoples 464 Leviticus (Biblical book) 352, 385
moral i. 42, 188, 191f, 249, 321, 338, life (hieroglyph) 135
342–344, 348f, 356, 371, 376, 377, 468f, liminality 16, 19, 36, 41, 160, 166, 380, 383
472f, 519–535 lover 220
objects causing i. 195f, 250, 469, 540 lunar month 138
persons causing i. 468, 471 Lykosura 257f
physical i. 246, 376f
ritual i. 42, 321, 338, 348f, 377, 468f Maat 148f
ritual-physical i. 519–535 marriage 185, 441, 445f, 462–465, 469f
sexual i. 481 Mars 277
system of i. 396 martyrdom 487f, 498
transmission of i. 16, 160, 188, 248, Masada 541f, 545, 551
322f, 334, 375, 348f, 468f, 521, 540, 552 measuring cups 549
incest 520 membership 353, 355
inclusivism (also inclusion) 18f, 473, 532f, men 322, see also women
533n57, 534n62 menstruation, menstruant 74, 85, 142,
infection 138 185, 189, 192, 196, 247f, 322–324, 385f,
intention 344, 348 481, 520f, 533
intramural workshops 547 Menedemus on Cynthnos 215
inundation god 133 Mesen 134
iron 139, 195, 214f Mesopotamia, Mesopotamian 169, 391, 451
Isdes 130 Meter 220–222, 232
Isis 130, 134, 137, 274 Milet 246
Israel 314f, 319, 341, 351, 355, 378, 397, Min 130, 134, 149
402, 430, 437, 447, 451, 525, 532–543 Mishnah 542, 547, 552
Mizpah 359
jars 120, 125 moral impurity see impurity
Jericho 546, 554 moral purity see purity
Jerusalem 278, 280, 313, 359, 361, 467, moral subject see human being
472, 544, 545, 547 Moses 277–280, 357
Joseph (Biblical person) 275 mouth 57, 68, 75, 80–84
(Flavius) Josephus 496, 496n13 murder 166, 251, 252, 530
Judaism 2f, 41
598 index of subjects and terms

Nahr el-Awwali 179 Pronaos 119

nation 525 prophets (Egyptian priests) 119f, 123
natron 120, 122, 146 proselytes 525
Nazirite 373f, 396 Ptah 133
Nedit 134 Punt 130
Neith 129, 134 purification 248, 250, 353, 369, 398, 467f,
Nephthys 133f 471, 483–487, 498, 523, 526–530, 532f,
Netjeret 134 542, 550f
New Year 137 concept of p. 117f, 159, 171f
Nut 137, 146 p. liturgies 530, 531, 532, 533, 534, 553
p. ritual 9, 160, 166, 168, 189f, 253, 255,
offering 117, 176, 371, 373, 387 327, 334, 343, 344f, 352f, 354, 357, 524,
ointment 117, 123, 133, 149, 151 531f, 534
open court 119 p. tent 144
Osiris 119, 131f, 146–150 purifying 189, 192, 289
othering see separation purity 13–18, 189f, 250, 253, 257f
outsider 473, 523, 531, 533 concept of p. 2, 3f, 37f, 117f, 159, 161,
197, 202–210, 215, 237–238, 269, 311,
Pan 223–24, 225n117 362, 369, 377, 383, , 405, 407, 430, 460,
paradise 485 552
Passover 397, 399, 461, 466 ideology of p. 458
Pe 134 moral p. 19–21
Pentateuch 315–319, 429–430, 438, 440, p. law 183f, 186f, 193, 355, 385, 392n61,
442–449, 539 467, 539
perjury 78, 88, 93, 98, 101 p. of mind 196, 229–232
personal divinity 83, 86, 91 p. of nature 197–200, 202–205, 216f,
Pharisees 496, 496n7, 503, 532, 538, 545, 224–226
553 p. of the land 339–341
Philo of Alexandria 496 p. ritual 189f, 254f, 392, 404, 448, 543
Phinehas 441 ritual p. 19–21, 264
Piye 136 state of p. 9, 187, 330, 399
plants 121 system of p. 183, 192, 396, 446, 472
Pliny the Elder 496, 496n13 purple 176
pollution 5f, 160, 166, 171, 197f, 200, 216, Pythagorism 263
232–237, 321, 329, 353, 369, 374, 383, 392,
399 quarry 547
sources of p. 184, 187, 321f, 330
spiritual p. 192f Re (Sun-God) 117, 126, 129, 132f, 136–139,
Pomerium 295, 304 146
pork 63, 64n70, 271, 275f, 280 refuge 220f, 235f
Poseidon 205, 208 Re-Harakhte 133
prayer 91–93, 189, 234f, 489, 525n28 Rīm-Sîn I (king of Larsa) 59–61, 67
precious stones 139 rite 48, 55–58, 66–69, 71–73, 77–80, 85,
predestination 525 526 98–101, 103–106
priest 47, 54–59, 61, 65, 67, 72–79, 94, ritual 70, 76f, 161, 167, 248, 250, 253f, 278,
160, 169, 190, 193, 258, 271f, 296, 298, 330
313, 335f, 357f, 370, 372, 374, 378, 384, r. agents 12, 10, 36, 38
387–389, 392, 396, 399, 400, 406, 433, r. efficacy 151
442–449, 452, 460f, 467, 470, 525, 545, r. system 116, 348f, 354
552f r. theory 352f
priestly competence 356–358 river 167
primeval ocean 131–133, 138
procession 289, 291, 300 sacral densification 291, 305
p. lustratio 294 sacral presence 290f, 299, 304
p. supplication 301 sacral space 16f, 291
 index of subjects and terms 599

sacred objects 292, 299 Tatenen 131f

sacrifice 262, 264, 280–282, 291, 298, 332, taxonomy 351f
372, 375, 436, 438, 465 Tebtunis 118
sacrilege 249, 251f Tefnut 126
Sadducees 496n12, 503 Tell Amrit 180
Samaria 313, 315, 544, 546 temple 295, 319, 336, 353, 355f, 431–435,
sanctuary 37, 199, 207f, 210, 216f, 220, 450f, 458–363, 461, 466, 520f, 531, 540f
222f, 292, 296, 335f, 344f, 349, 480, Tent of Meeting 440
483–485, 489 Thot 126, 130f, 134f, 137f, 149
Saponaria 77 Torah 313, 318, 341, 356, 369, 387, 398,
Sarapis (at Rhodes) 231 400, 405, 407, 439, 444, 447, 449, 466
Scarab 118 transformation 36, 38
scholar 49, 53, 59, 79f, 87, 94 Transjordan 379
Selkis 134 trespasses see sin
semen 322f, 330f transgression 346
separation 18f, 150, 451, 461f, 466, 531f
Sepphoris 544, 545, 550 Udjat-Eye 118, 127f, 148f
Septuagint 374, 383, 388 uncleanness 371, 380, 387, 392, 396, 402
Serapeum 134 Ur 60–61
Seth 129, 131, 134 Uraeus 130, 139, 149
sexual intercourse 120, 124, 136, 145, 151, Urim and Tummim 460
185, 195f, 199n14, 200n16, 213f, 217, 219, urine 189f, 192
220–224, 226, 231, 235, 236f, 247f, 323,
329, 339 vegetarianism 262–264, 282
sexuality 166, 246, 249, 270, 326–329 verses 196, 198f, 204, 219, 226, 228f,
Shabbat 469n45, 471 230–232
shaving 120, 127 virgin 446
shoes 195, 197n5, 214f, 230 255, 257
Shu 126 washing see cleaning
Sidon 179 water 163, 178–181, 189f, 254, 374, 386,
sin 371, 374, 375, 498, 520, 523–526, 533f, 398f, 402, 524, 527f, 532, 541, 550, 553
540f way-opener 134
singing 125 wealth 521
social order/structure 7, 11, 36–38, 166, weapons 210, 214f, 394
168, 171, 188, 318, 330f, 334f, 346, 357f, widow 446
362f, 448, 351, 457, 465, 531f, 534f wild bull 134
society 539f, 552 wine 151
Sokar, barque of 133 winepress god 134
sorcery 57, 90, 98–100, 102, 104, 106 women 120, 136, 189, 322
spirit of dead man 132 wrath 49, 65, 84, 91–92, 99, 106
spitting 75
state cult/religion 245f xenophobia 41, 270, 440
stealing 124
Story of the Watchers 478–483 Yehûd 379, 473
Sun Goddess of Arinna 164
sun-disk 139 Zadok 440
superstition 229, 264f Zadokite 439–449, 495
symbolism 5, 9, 327–329 Zarathushtra 187
Zazû 51
taboo 3f, 49, 85, 86, 88, 90, 99f, 246f, 257, Zeus 210–212, 222, 232, 502
275, 400 Zoroastrian 390, 405
Takhbeti 134 Zosimos 179
600 index of subjects and terms

Terms

Sumerian ikkibu 86
išippu 55, 58, 94, 106
abrig 58–61
išippūtu 94
a-tu₅ 76
kapâru 52, 82
dadag 50, 61–63, 71
la ellu 52
išib/isib 58, 72
lapâtu 90
lipšur 89
ki-sikil 50, 74
lu’’ātu 90
Ku₃-dLugal-ban₃-da 50n5
ku₃-zu 53f
māmītu 88, 90, 95, 98, 101–103
Kug-dInana 50n5
mašmašu 57
kug/ku₃ 50f, 61f, 71
mesû 71
Kusu 68f
mullilu 58
musukkatu 85
lu₂-mu₁₃-mu₁₃ 77
lu₂-mu₇-mu₇ 57
namburbû 82, 95f, 103
luḫ 71
nemsû 56
maš-maš 57
qadāšu 52
na-de₅ 50, 78
ru’ātu 90
ruqqum 62
saĝĝa₂ 58
šen 50, 61f, 71
šā’ilu 92
urudu
šen 73f, 77
šar pūhi 103, 104
sikil 50f, 61–63, 71
Šuluhhû 52, 56, 71, 72
šu-luḫ 68, 71, 73
takpirtu 82
um-ma 57
tašrîtu 86, 87
usug₃-ga 74
tēbibtum 51n10, 52
Utu 68, 70
uz-ga 72
urruštu 85
utukkû lemnûtu 104
Akkadian
abriqqu 58–61 wašāpum 58
ašipûtu 95
Asû 94 Semitic
bʿl mym 181
bît rimki 98f, 102, 104
bny ysr’l 385
bryt 423
ebbu 50–51, 55, 62
ebêbu 51, 84
ḥṭ’ 337, 346, 348, 421
ellu 50–52, 63
ezib 88
kpr 346n88
kpr(-rite) 344–346, 373, 375
gudapsû 72, 76
lʿm 438
harištu 85
hīṭu 84
mrzḥ 178
 index of subjects and terms 601

nblh 419 deisidaimonía 264

npš 395 díkaion 232
ʿn ydll 179
eusébeia 264
prkm 176
katharós 197–202, 236–238, 247
qhl 440 katharà gnōmē 196, 231
qll 549f, 553
‘íeros 216f, 247
sha’atnez (laws) 481f ‘ieròs lógos 249, 261

tʿbh 418, 424, 425, 426, 463 miarós 197, 200–202, 247
ṭʾr 177
ṭhr 177f ‘ópson 27, 266f
ṭhwr 343, 413, 461, 467, 471 ‘ósios 247
ṭmʾ 343, 413, 415, 419, 424, 463
ṭmʾt 345 pólis 246

yhd 499–501, 503–510, 513–515 sarkophagía 262f

sîtos 27, 266f
Greek
témenos 250–252, 256–259
‘ágios 200, 247
‘agn 199, 207, 219
‘agnós 197–202, 208–210, 237f, 247